I’ve read numerous articles on how to make your character (pro- or antagonist) more believable by knowing the symptoms of various psychological disorders.  Some people take their research seriously and will invest a great deal of time by reading up, asking around or interviewing to get just the right information they require to write.  I tend to just rely on what I’ve read, experienced or watched in a movie or on TV.  That will probably change as I continue to grow as an author.  Even Fantasy writers need to do research.

My last entry in which my father discussed PTSD reminded me of an article I read that tackled this issue when it comes to writing fiction and using PTSD as a plot device. That first article in the series basically spells out what people get wrong when using PTSD as a way to move the plot in the direction they want.

Perhaps your protagonist suffers from PTSD. You can certainly use that as a reason for said character to go ballistic at the drop of a hat. The problem is, “losing it” is an extremely rare symptom of PTSD sufferers.  Most of the time they simply react differently when they have memory flashes, they may be harsher, more stubborn, whatever. The point is, they aren’t acting like themselves, but the change isn’t hugely dramatic in most cases. Yet authors will time and again use PTSD as a justification for a normally “good” character to do something totally out of character.

The other problem with using PTSD is that an author may use it to move a plot forward, but then once that part is over, the character suffering from PTSD will go back to normal.  PTSD is an on going condition. One does not simply have it some of the time. And truly this can be said of any plot device. You can just pick something up and then ignore it because it’s no longer needed. Your readers will know and they will call you on it.

The second post the author, Arachne Jericho, wrote on PTSD describes a few instances where she believes authors mostly got PTSD right. Mostly.

I’m unfamiliar with her first example, which is from Babalon 5. However, I am a Lord of the Rings lover from the word go, so I know exactly what she’s talking about when she mentions Frodo and his inability to return to his life after being the ring barer and returning from the Ring’s destruction.

Ms. Jericho writes:

The type of “fit” that Frodo has is more usual to PTSD sufferers; it’s outwardly quieter, but no less consuming than the Set Piece version that has people rampaging through corridors with weapons. Indeed, Frodo is so despairing and not at all psychotic that people who know only the stereotypes of PTSD would say that he’s more depressed than traumatized. Especially since everyone knows that he endured; these days it’s all too common for people to forget that those inflicted with PTSD have it because they endured in a situation others might have committed suicide over and did not, in fact, break entirely.

I think many of us forget that psychological disorders effect different people in different ways.  Frodo was not just depressed, he was distraught and unable to resume his life.  He was, when the Fellowship of the Ring began, a carefree and curious hobbit.  Not so when Return of the King comes to an end.

In the third installment of PTSD articles, the author tackles two more cases of PTSD in fiction that she believes are even more realistic.  The first being a book called World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War by Max Brooks, which is a fictional documentation of what would happen if the world really were over run by zombies.  This book is on my to-be-read list because I’ve heard a great many good things about it.  And this is simply another push to get me to read it.

The author of the article writes, in regards to WWZ’s mention of PTSD:

A zombie invasion raises an interesting question: is such an event a force of nature, since zombies are without sentience (in most literature at least, including World War Z)? Or, because zombies used to be living people, still look like people, and in the worst cases are actually loved ones, is this perceived by the human mind as being violence with human intent, even betrayal? Whatever the answer, PTSD is as guaranteed to be involved with a not insignificant portion of the human population, just as hundreds of WWI veterans suffered from PTSD.

The book also tackles a new form of PTSD, Apocalyptic Demise (or Despair) Syndrome (ADS).  I can certainly see how this might be a possibility.  You aren’t directly involved yet the fear of the total annihilation of your species would be a huge shock to many.

The other piece of fiction she mentions is the West Wing. I’ve never seen an episode of this, but I’ve heard some good and bad reviews. It’s just not my cup of tea. However, if you’d like to read more on her evaluation of how the West Wing handles PTSD, her article does a wonderful summary.

The final article on PTSD by Ms. Jericho tackles a character she believes was well written and handled PTSD as an on going condition.  The character is Lord Peter Wimsey, written by Dorothy Sayers.

In the article, the author mentions that the first Lord Wimsey novel, a detective novel, is in the public domain. So I believe I’ll be reading Whose Body? within the next few months.

Obviously there is a great deal on PTSD and most psychological orders that I do not know.  However, it wouldn’t take much, especially in this day and age, for me to do a simple bit of research to find out exactly what the symptoms of PTSD are.  Articles like the ones Ms. Jericho has written are excellent in that they give us examples of what’s good and bad to reference.  If you’re like me, you require visual examples. Even if those examples are the written word and not tv or movies.  If I have something I can go over, something tangible to work with, then I can better understand a subject.  And Ms. Jericho’s articles do just that for me in regards to PTSD.

And, with that in mind, it’s not hard to see why my father’s friend took his own life ten years ago.  He struggled with it for many years, since the early 70s. And he was never properly treated for PTSD.  It’s a tragedy.  But it’s also a lesson we can learn from.  And one writers can apply when writing.  I know I’ll think twice before I give a character an affliction again.  I certainly don’t want to fall into the trap of using something as a plot device only to simply drop it later on with no thought.

(My apologies for the lateness of this article. I’d meant to write and publish this much sooner.  However, I still believe it needs to be shared, so here it is, late though it may be.  Enjoy.)

Tags: Research, Sci-fi, Writers, Writing

A very happy new year to all of you.  My apologies for my lack of updates to this blog.  With the end of the year looming it seemed everything hit me at once and somethings I wasn’t entirely expecting, including an unexpected move.  Luckily my mother showed up for Christmas and we had a good time together.  It was nice to have a loving presence when my daughter wasn’t there to fill the void.

A few wonderful things have happened to me since my last post, including getting a new place that has more room for my daughter and myself. A promotion that came complete with a pay raise that allowed me to pay for the new place.  A wonderful Christmas gift from my mother in the form of a new couch and new bed for my daughter.  And finally, I started a webserial.

The serial in question is named the Deep Underground.  The serial is, as the site banner (done by none other than the lovely Nancy Brauer of Strange Little Band fame)  states, Bladerunner meets Tank Girl.  Take a dystopian future complete with mutants and cyborgs and throw in a woman who is blue from head to toe and loves to blow stuff up and you have the Deep.  Though I suppose the Smurfs fit in there some where too.  Of course the main character, Ada Kaze, would likely blow me up if she knew I said that, so let’s just keep that amongst ourselves, hmm?

Along with a prologue and a part one of chapter one of the Deep being up. I’ve also posted the beginning of a Universe hopping escapade that’s slated to span two months, with lots of time between posts for all the respective authors to have time to interact with the bad guy who is the glue that will bind all of these universes together.  And that bad guy is none other than the leading antagonist from my webserial, the Deep: Aaron Waldgrave.  The Strange Little Band LJ Commuity will be hosting all of the posts to allow for authors to interact via comments once the initial scene is set.

Along with that I’ve been taking a gander at another web serial by a very talented woman named Lyn Thorne-Alder.  Her web serial is titled Addergoole and it is all together engrossing.  I’ll be doing a review of it once I’ve actually caught up on it. I’m about half way and I have to say, it’s been hard to put down.

I have a half finished entry just waiting for me to finish regarding psychology in literature.  I’ll do my best to get it spruced up and ready for public consumption soon. And then, really, it’s back to my genre review. No really!

Tags: Webserial, Writers, Writing

Since I was very small my father has always instilled a sense of justice in me.  If my two brothers or I did something wrong, he would sit us down and talk it out.  Punishments were usually mild. It was the sense that we’d let him down that was more of a punishment than anything else.  Just one look from my father was enough to make us toe the line.

My father is a Veteran.  It wasn’t until I was much older that he was even willing to discuss his tours with me and even then I could tell it didn’t sit well with him to talk about it.  Regardless of that, he served his country and he was proud of it.  He hung a flag on our front porch for years and usually seemed maudlin around this time every year.  Possibly because his birthday is only a few days away from Veterans day, but I doubt it.  Dad never did care how old he was.

For the past few years, since my departure from college and the rampant use of e-mail has taken over everything, my father has sent out his thoughts on Veterans Day and what it means to him.  I’ve gained his permission to republish what he has to say this year.  It is something that I think everyone needs to read at least once.

The first Veteran’s Day I observed after my military service was in 1972 and the paper of record in my local area printed an essay depicting the battlefield epic of a Revolutionary soldier describing his heroics. I don’t normally think of one single soldier as an individual, including those I served with from 1968-71 in the US Army.

To do so relegates the heroics of the many support personnel, the medics and corpsmen, and the families back home to a secondary status. America has been either at war or at war-alert status since I was old enough to remember. Born in the post-WWII year of 1950 and being the son of Navy vet of Pacific campaign in WWII I have essentially not known a time of total peace in my lifetime considering Korea, the Cuban missile crisis, the Vietnam Conflict, and the subsequent engagements leading up to the Gulf War, which still continues at this moment.

The recent shootings at a Texas military installation, along with the involvement of military veteran in the D.C. sniper-shooting a few years ago, and the numerable and little publicized suicides of veterans should be a reminder to all citizens of this warlike nation that casualties don’t occur only on the battlefield.

The American culture has done its best to support the members of the actively serving, but are still many in America that give little, if any, thought the service of men and women in the military. America does a very good job of distracting itself with music, media, and technology. The various sounds of music notes and subsequent battle-like sounds of a computer game in no way reflect the actual happenings in a live-fire situation. The drug culture and the neighborhoods it thrives in have shootings on a daily basis but none of shooter’s or the death of victims rank in the category of valor and honor to Nation, merely they relegate themselves to addicted and twisted joy-riders killing the innocent during the commission of felonious assault. No one mourns when
gang-bangers die for all the obvious and just reasons.

When all the high-school bands strike up a tune to celebrate the service of Americans on Veteran’s Day, they don’t have in mind the many vets who join organizations or do individual efforts to bring about a dialogue for peace. The young men and women in our schools and universities are taught to respect and honor the veterans for their service, while possibly considering such service for themselves. They are not given equal access to the veterans that have served honorably and converse about the real cost of war in America. Those who served in Vietnam, saw the elephant firsthand, and were wounded as young men and returned home and desire a peace that could be reached if only hands were extended.

The men who determine the fate our youth that go to war are rarely the same men that serve and know war. There are some exceptions, and sadly, a few become tainted with the corruption of political office and disgrace the service of all.

This year 2009, is a longtime past my discharge date. I reflect on the many who have given their lives in the time that has past and those that suffer the ravages of wartime injuries for the rest of their lives. That includes PTSD. Anyone that served understands the return fire, boobie-traps, road-side explosives, in-coming rounds, napalm, Agent Orange, and depleted uranium rounds, as well as a plethora of stealth weapons.

PTSD is a hidden killer. A terrorist in its own right. American men and women who serve in the Reserves or National Guard are subject to the realities of regular duty in this age of perpetual war on terror. Most are not prepared for the ravages of conflict and join the ranks of many who served in the long-ago 10,000 day war who come home to suffer a recurring horror.

He is no one unique. He grew up in Hialeah, Florida and lost his father to an auto accident when he was a young teen. He wanted to be an anthropologist. As a young teen he spent time in the Everglades. He could have gotten a deferment, but chose to serve his country in Vietnam. Several in his unit were killed in action in 1968. He made his way to the end of his commitment and once again joined the civilian ranks.

Because we had served together he came to visit me in 1973. A long journey to Nebraska from Florida. He brought his wife, the proverbial girl next door. Anecdotally, the boy at the other next door was KC of KC and the Sunshine Band fame. Pat was indicative of all young men who served during Nam. He was bright, aspiring, and a damn-straight-shooter. He returned to Hialeah and stayed until 1983 when the only place he could get counseling at the VA was in Gainesville or Lake City and he moved north.

Pat was not exceptional other than I trusted my life with him, but due to the distance we lost contact over the years. Whether the society failed, the system failed, or Pat failed himself, he took his life in the year 2000. The year Bush and Cheney would bring a new era of war to the warlike nation of America.

Pat was not the kind to let issues pass without comment. He brought to the fore the treatment of blacks in the military during his active service. During the US Army transition to all-volunteer he made brave comments about the second-hand treatment of blacks, both draftee and volunteer.

I don’t know what evils Pat couldn’t conquer in that election year. I do know that as decided to end his life a dramatic change came to America. We became a warlike nation once again after 9-11. The men who decided that were not military men. Our military men were silent and the decision was made by political men. Those of age to serve in Vietnam when Pat did, but never made the grade.

We lose men and women daily now. Most Americans are oblivious. Too wrapped up in their personal Facebook, or Twitter, or who’s hot in Hollywood. Americans seem to want to be distracted. They don’t want to know the horrors of war, in the zone, or back at home, long after the shells have landed.

On Veteran’s Day morning, as I have done for now 38 years, at sunrise I will salute the men who gave their lives for me to have the right to stand before a flag that represents the home of the brave and land of the free. But in my heart of hearts, Pat took away a life that was more valuable than many who stand oblivious to the true sacrifice of the veteran.

America is a warlike nation and yet too many do not understand the sacrifice nor the horror. I fear it never will.

- Denny Cautrell

I am not a veteran, but I am the daughter of one.  And I salute all veterans, past, present and future.  This day is for you.  And I’m including a link to a video that my father sent as well.  I hope you enjoy it. It certainly speaks volumes and with a catchy tune.

\”I Don\’t Wanna Be Your Soldier Anymore\” by The Bombay Sweets

P.S. Thank you, Dad.  You’re the best.

Tags: Commentary, Holiday

I’ve been terrible about keeping up with this blog. One thing leads to another it would seem and I put it off for another day.  I will eventually get back to my genre dissection.  For now, I’m going to discuss something that happened to me in a bit more detail and attempt to apply it as a writing lesson.

About a month ago I was at home, napping on the couch.  I heard someone knock on the door a time or two, but I ignored it. I’ve had people harassing me for the past year by knocking on my door and fleeing, so I assumed it was more of the same.

As I was up from my nap anyway, I decided to make supper. So I turned on the lights, and started cooking.  While the food was heating, I sat at my desk.  That’s when I noticed some strange noises coming from the window in my bedroom.  At that point in time we had roofers working on our apartments, so at first I assumed it was one of them.  The noise stopped after a moment, so I didn’t investigate.

When the noise returned, followed by the crunch of breaking glass, I felt a sense of dread weigh down my body.  As I carefully approached my bedroom window and opened the blinds I saw first the corner of the window broken through and then saw the perpetrator nonchalantly exiting my back gate.

Fear raced through me giving me a shock as if I’d touched an outlet with a wet finger.  The first thing I did was grab my phone and dial 9-1-1. The second thing I did was grab the heavy duty flashlight that was sitting on my kitchen counter.  After calling the police, who said they’d send someone over, I called the apartment manager and turned on every light in the house.

Trying to calm myself, I sat at my desk to wait for the police.  I couldn’t sit long.  I got up and began pacing and worrying.  It took me a few moments to realize I was having a panic attack.  Once I realized it, however, I was able to calm myself.  To quote one of my favorite books, Dune by Frank Herbert, “Fear is the mind killer.”  I was allowing fear to override my good senses and wandering around aimlessly, which was doing me no good.

When the police finally arrived it was to approach my back door first to inspect the damage.  I was out of the bedroom, however, so my first thought, when I heard someone walking around back there, was that the burglar was back. Flashlight in hand, I looked into my room to see a policeman standing there.  He made a calming motion, then stepped toward my back door. Fear still gripping me, I didn’t move until he stepped back in front of the window and motioned for me to open the door.

At first I was fairly shrill with worry as I spoke to him, but  once I started talking I almost burst into tears.  Reality had finally hit me.  Someone had tried to break into my home. My home.  The policeman was very professional, but kind, even when he told me not to get upset.  He did what he could, drove around, took my statement, gave me information. And then he suggested something I wouldn’t have thought of; to brace the window that was broken with something.  For some reason the unused shower rod in my closet and one of my giant tiger poster frames came to mind after only a moment’s thought. I usually am terrible at remember things.

And so once the officer left, I called my brother and then my father. I searched around on the net, looking for some place local that sells pepper spray.  I eventually found a place, drove there and spent the entire time in the store staring wide-eyed around me and wondering just how I could ever trust any strangers ever again.

I almost slept with all of the lights on in the house that night. I didn’t, because I find I sleep poorly if the lights are on, but it was a near thing. And truly I don’t think anyone could blame me if I had for just that night.

The reaction of my apartment management was less than concerned when I called the next day. “Oh you need a window fixed because someone tried to break in? We’ll get someone over there when we have time.”  Apparently they hadn’t received the message I left with them the night before.  Nor did they know of the request when I stopped by after work that day. (Almost a month later they still haven’t fixed the security light outside of my front door.)

Obviously this situation was mild compared to what could have happened.  I was lucky that the man trying to break in was a chicken in the end and didn’t want to get caught.  I’ve heard stories of a few people who weren’t so lucky.

The reason I bring all of this up and attempt to describe how it felt, is because I’m going to attempt to use those emotions that I had when I work on my novels.  Can a person truly write fear if they don’t experience it?  I don’t think so.  And while I’ve never felt terror, I can certainly guess at how it might feel now that I’ve had this experience.

I wanted to take something positive away from the experience because so often I take away only negative things. I’ve asked myself recently how I can possibly continue to call myself a writer if I allow things to stop me from writing.  My answer was, I can’t.  Which then led to me questioning why I’m allowing anything to stop me from doing something that I truly love to do. The answer was fear, just not the kind that makes your knees lock and your gut fill with moths.

If I can talk myself down from intense fear and anxiety, then I should be able to talk myself down from the fear of failing as a writer.  And so, that is exactly what I’m doing by entering NaNoWriMo in November.

I also realized that pressure from an outside, impersonal source, to write works to keep me motivated.  The 3-Day Novel Contest worked wonders for my productivity.  Hopefully NaNoWriMo will as well.

And now I leave you with a poem that I wrote when I was in High School titled No More Fear.  I’ve always been a fan of rainstorms, but I found the title and theme of the poem to be appropriate for this post.  Enjoy.

No More Fear
by Heidi Cautrell

The blazing light of the red sun shows,
Autumn leaves swirling gently in the breeze,
And tree branches dancing in the wind.
Rain suddenly lashes out at the world.

The sky is pierced by nothing.
Darkness is absolute.
Then thunder booms and roars.
Lightening cracks like a whip.

Rain beats upon roof tops.
Trees bow and beg for mercy.
Tall grasses bend and break,
Under the mighty power of the storm.

The rain gives into the world.
Water gently trickles down the glass pane.
Wind sighs gently through the grass.
Trees groan as they raise their heavy branches.

A slight piercing of the stars in the sky.
The silver moon, a circular cloud of mist.
The once angry black clouds, turned gray, float away.
A child sighs and has no more fear.

Tags: Commentary, Poetry

Strange Little Band is a site I stumbled upon that posts a serialized sci-fi story “with a dollop of romance.”  The story is co-authored by Nancy Brauer and Vanessa Brooks.

The story itself is full of intrigue, mental acrobatics (literal and figurative) and quit a bit of steamy byplay. Oh my.  These ladies certainly know how to write.  And they pull no punches when they do.  There’s swearing and crude behavior, but as I’ve told them more than once in comments on their posts, those things make it real without going overboard.

Last week I left a comment on Chapter 8:  The Devil You Know – Part 5. I was just being my normal, abnormal self and making a lame joke.  Surprisingly, Nancy didn’t find it so lame. In fact, she loved it.  The comment was this:

I think Triptych needs a new company motto. “Looking to the future of innovation — in bed.”

Ever play the fortune cookie game? Just put in bed at the end of all your fortunes.

Nancy Twittered it shortly after that–the motto, that is, not the fortune cookie bit.  And much to my surprise came back a bit later and asked if she could use the motto on a T-shirt coupled with the logo for Triptych, the mega-corp from the story.  I happily agreed after I got over my surprise.

Once Nancy had the shirts up on Zazzle, she offered to buy me one as a thank you.  This is the part that truly got me thinking.  At first I balked.  How could I accept a gift for simply spouting nonsense in a comment?  They were just words weren’t they?  As soon as I had that thought, however, I knew that wasn’t true.  Words are powerful.  Any writer worth their salt knows that just the right words are hard to come by.  If I took that stance, I would be diminishing her gratitude and my own worth as a writer. As well as Nancy’sworth as a writer and reader.

And it’d be just plain rude. (See Mom, I totally learned stuff from you!)

So I made a compromise.  I accepted Nancy’s gift and bought the other shirt on display as well.

Strange Little Band is going on hiatus until November 9th, 2009, so now is a great time to start reading the story from the beginning to catch up to where they are right now.

Once Nancy and Vanessa are back from hiatus I’m sure we’ll see the same quality, enjoyable writing as we did before.

Thank you, ladies, for putting out such wonderful work and sharing with us all.

Tags: Review, Sci-fi, Writers

Heart of Louisiana Logo

Though I started this blog after I joined Heartla, in my livejournal blog I did a write up of Heartla’s Reader’s Luncheon after I attended in October 2008.  At the time, I was simply another reader and I enjoyed the food, the table conversation and the speakers at the luncheon.

This year I had an entirely different perspective.  Though I didn’t participate in much of the planning, I helped pack goodie bags for attendees and was present when the all the myriad of things needed were discussed at our monthly Heartla Meetings.  This year’s meeting was even more wonderful in terms of speakers because both speakers were true romance novelists.  Not that the speakers last year weren’t wonderful, but this year Cynthia Eden (Hello sexy books about hot-blooded demons!) and Kelley St. John (Hello smart, sexy writing!) were spot on speakers for this Reader’s Luncheon.

Ms. Eden spoke about her favorite books (she even brought her first romance ever along!) and how one book set her on track to be a romance lover to this day.  She picked up her first romance in 1990 (I was about a year behind Cythia, so ha!) and she was hooked.  I think all readers of all genres can relate to that.  I was hooked when I read the hobbit and again when I read my first Harlequin (sadly, I cannot remember the name, though I remember the story clear as day.)  Ms. Eden’s speech was fun and uplifting.  As a writer of sci-fi, fantasy and romance, I tend to feel torn on my passion for all three subjects.  Romance is usually frowned upon by all genres.  But, as Ms. Eden pointed out, it’s also the largest book market today.  And boy are we romance lovers loyal.

Mrs. St. John (I know she’s a Mrs. because I met her husband!), was a wonderful speaker as well.  Her speech had quite a bit of humor and some tear jerking moments as well.  She spoke of the readers and how authors, any authors, would not be where they are without their readers.  Never, ever say you are just a reader.  You are a reader and the reason that so many people write.

And that’s what this Luncheon is about, the Reader.  We writers would be nothing without you.  Now I may never be published, but I will always be thankful to anyone who reads my work; regardless of whether you actually enjoyed it or not!

The turn out for the Luncheon was wonderful and though things didn’t go as smoothly as some would like, Heartla received positive comments from all quarters, authors and readers alike.  And, of course, this wouldn’t have gone off without the help of the Luncheon committee who put in a great deal of effort and I’m sure where quite exhausted once everything was said and done.

It was fun to be on the other side of the event and still get to participate as if I were just a reader too.  I even won a raffle basket!  It contained all the goodies any aspiring writer needs and believe you me, I’ll be using those tools to their fullest when I begin working on my novel for NaNoWriMo in November.  Along with the gifts, I was given a certificate for Silken Sand’s Writer Conference, which is put on by the Gulf Coast Chapter of RWA.  And I was offered a 50 page critique by Cynthia Eden.  Needless to say, I was one giddy writer.  But now I find myself torn on what I should send to Cynthia.  I believe I’ll work on my fantasy story, which has the greatest balance of romance and fantasy of any of my other stories.

And so I proclaim, with only a small amount of bias, the Heartla Reader’s Luncheon of 2009 a success.  Thank you, once again Ladies, for doing an outstanding job.  You all deserve a round of applause and chocolate.

Tags: Event, Heartla

The word Lollapalooza is an American idiom originally meaning “remarkable or wonderful person or thing.”  I think Cyberpunk is a remarkable thing.  It was just the beginning to a change in the way writers and readers viewed the science fiction genre.

In this post I’ll be discussing all the other “punk” derivatives and what I think is wonderful, or not so wonderful about them.

Postcyberpunk

Lawrence Person wrote in an essay he posted to the Internet forum Slashdot:

Postcyberpunk uses the same immersive world-building technique [as cyberpunk], but features different characters, settings, and, most importantly, makes fundamentally different assumptions about the future. Far from being alienated loners, postcyberpunk characters are frequently integral members of society (i.e., they have jobs). They live in futures that are not necessarily dystopic (indeed, they are often suffused with an optimism that ranges from cautious to exuberant), but their everyday lives are still impacted by rapid technological change and an omnipresent computerized infrastructure.

The idea that cyberpunk has changed because the authors that read the original cyberpunk novels, went on to use the genre and improve upon it is amazing to me.  I’m not sure how deeply I would go into researching such things, but it’s certainly enjoyable to read what others have come up with in regards to the changes in science fiction.  I’d say this sort of evolution is to be expected.  Much like technology itself is always advancing; we see a thing then we improve upon it.

To quote Wikipedia for examples:

Good examples are Neal Stephenson’s The Diamond Age and Bruce Sterling’s Holy Fire. In television, Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex has been called “the most interesting, sustained postcyberpunk media work in existence.”^[4] In 2007, SF writers James Patrick Kelly and John Kessel published Rewired: the Post-Cyberpunk Anthology. Like all categories discerned within science fiction, the boundaries of postcyberpunk are likely to be fluid or ill defined.^[5]

Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex has to be my all time favorite television show.  Hands down.  It explores so very many aspects of what could happen if technology were able to take over our lives and minds so easily. And it does it WELL.

Cyberprep

I mention Cyberprep only because any punk worth his salt would scoff at the use of the word “preppy”.  Cyberprep is the opposite of cyberpunk in terms of quality of life.  Instead of dark and dangerous, life is happy and bright.  Cyber technology is used to upload one’s awareness for leisure or recreation.  Most definitely not the gritty cyberpunk I know and love.  If anything gang wars in cyberprep would be like West Side Story with cybernetics.   That image alone is horrifying.  Moving on!

Biopunk

The name should say it all, but if not then I’ll add a bit of detail.  Biopunk focuses on the underground biotechnology revolution that was thought to be a major part of the 21st century.  Biopunk focuses on what would happen if synthetic biology was used to modify humans instead of straight technology.  Usually these worlds have totalitarian governments or mega-corporations involved to muck up the works.  Biopunk is admittedly less popular than cyberpunk, but is just as firmly planted in modern technology as its predecessor.

A series of books that can be describe as Biopunk are the Xenogenesis trilogy by Octavia E. Butler.  Movies of note for biopunk leanings are the Fly, Jurassic Park (huh!), and Gattaca (a personal favorite of mine).

Clockpunk

Clockpunk was a term coined by a role playing system named GURPS.  Much like Steampunk, Clockpunk shows advanced technology set in a post-modern world with the exception of using springs and cogs as opposed to steam.

This one doesn’t strike me as particularly more fascinating than Steampunk.  I suppose I just don’t have the appreciation of clocks that some people do.  I like my digital alarm, okay?

Dieselpunk

The absolute first thing that should come to everyone’s mind is Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome, right?  Actually, not so much.  (Though anyone who doesn’t think of Mad Max is just out of touch.  Why haven’t you seen this movie!?)

Dieselpunk has some Steampunk elements in it, but has progressed past steam to using petroleum as its primary source of power.  Along with this there is a sort of modern noir setting to it that might remind you of Casablanca if they had laser beams.  A good example of this would be the movie Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow.  Another movie I enjoyed though I don’t think it did well in the box office.

I’ve not yet read a book with this theme that I can remember, but I will likely seek a few out to see how the genre holds up on the page.

Cyberpunk Wannabe Derivatives

Apparently these last few are not officially recognized sub-genres; they’re just made up terms by readers or even by authors in a tongue in cheek reference to their own work.

Elfpunk was suggested as a subgenre of Urban Fantasy where elves and fairies are transplanted to modern day settings.  One example that I know of is Laura K. Hamilton’s Merry Gentry series.  Though if that series is like Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter, there are lots of blood, violence, violent sex and then some words of love tossed around as if they have any place in such a setting.

Er… what was I talking about?

Mythpunk takes myth and folklore, tosses it into a blender, then adds urban fantasy, a twist of some academic fantasy and pours it over the rocks of world building.  Truly I’m not sure I understand the reasoning behind this particular title, except that it’s not using mythology, but rather myths, like the Rougarou in Louisiana, as its basis.    Wikipedia lists Theodora Goss as a writer of Mythpunk.

Perhaps it’s time to expand my reading horizons and check this made up genre out.

Nowpunk is the most confusing of all the made up “punk” genres to me.  I’ll quote from Wikipedia because I just can’t seem to wrap my head around it.  It sounds like normal fiction to me.  Perhaps someone out there can set me straight.

Nowpunk is a term sometimes applied to contemporary historical fiction set in the time period in which the fiction is being published.^[21] The most noble example of the sub-genre in recent history is The Zenith Angle by notable cyberpunk author Bruce Sterling.^[21] The Zenith Angle follows the story of a hacker whose life is changed by the September 11th, 2001 attacks.^[22] What makes it nowpunk is that the story concerns the way the real world was actually being affected by a real event and that it was written as those changes were occurring, not afterwards, with the benefit of an historical perspective.

Like I said, sounds like… contemporary fiction to me.  I think someone is splitting hairs, but that’s just me.

Now then, there is one final entry mentioned on the Cyberpunk derivatives page in Wikipedia, but as I’m not a horror fan, I’ll only mention its name.  Splatterpunk.  I don’t even want to know because that name alone squicks me.

Punkapalooza Wrap Up

So, all in all, Cyberpunk was the granddaddy to all of these other “punk” movements and yet it’s still the most popular, even with the postcyberpunk movement coming in to clean up after it.

Cyberpunk will likely always be my favorite science fiction genre just because it fascinates me.  That humans can build things in order to interface with one another in a manner that we weren’t born with is fascinating and scary all in one.  That’s one reason why I love science fiction.  It’s not real, but you have to wonder if it couldn’t be possible sometime in the not to near future.

My next series of posts will deal with Fantasy, my all time favorite genre ever.  I’ll have many more reading selections to offer in those posts because I’ve read much more fantasy than science fiction.

Not to worry gentle readers, I’ll be hitting on romance too.  It’s one of my other favorite genres.

Author Notes

And finally, a note of apology.  This post was supposed to be out last Monday and I had someone attempt to break into my house that afternoon while I was cooking dinner.   I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to write anything that night, nor the next few nights.  Thank you for your patience and understanding as I move forward in my attempts to make regular postings on this blog.

And, as always, thank you for stopping by to read, whoever you are.

Tags: Cyberpunk, Research, Sci-fi

First, I’d like to apologize for my lack of updates.  Two weeks ago I took a fall, that I’m blaming on my lack of coordination, and injured my right wrist and fore arm along with my left leg.  There were roots involved and some mild swearing that I kept to myself because my six year old was with me.  Needless to say, I wasn’t really up to writing anything that wasn’t mandatory.

That said, one week ago (over Labor Day Weekend 2009), I participated in the 3-Day Novel Contest.  I believe that even had I not been injured and taking several hundred milligrams of ibuprofen for pain, this contest would have been a major challenge.  As it was, I’m just thankful I finished the novel I planned to write and was able to do at least some editing before the deadline Sunday night.

I started the contest at 12:04 am on Saturday, September 5th.  When I sat at my computer in the dead of the night, I felt awake and charged with the desire to write.  Not having felt that desire in awhile, it was a relief.  If nothing else, I’d at least get something down for this novel by the end of the weekend.

Between napping, short breaks for working out stiff muscles and grabbing more food or drinks, I managed to write, all told, 26,000 words in 72 hours.  The final page count was about 101 pages.  That I was amazed I’d done it was an understatement.  I was practically glowing on Tuesday when I was back at work.  Monday was spent regretting I’d done it because I was in so much pain.  I slept most of that day.  And when I wasn’t sleeping,  I was medicated and icing down my injuries.

The contest rules state that you can write an outline before you begin the contest.  I made sure I did because I feared that if I didn’t have a general direction for my novel, I’d never get anywhere with it.  I deviated from the outline in a few places and added a new character when I started the second chapter, but beyond that, I actually used the entire outline.  I do believe that outline, combined with my determination to finish despite my injuries, is what got me to the end.

Though during the entire process I felt the pressure of time, I also realized that 72 hours can also feel like the shortest and longest amount of time all in one.  As the deadline loomed I worried I wouldn’t get to the end in time.  Once I did get to the end, it felt like the hours dragged as I waited for the time to finally expire.  Talk about a surreal 72 hours.

Now, two weeks after I mailed my manuscript, I’m having a hard time believing I actually did it.  Though 26,000 words is technically only a novella, it was still a great deal of work.  The contest gave me a brief glimpse of what it’s like to be an actual writer.  I’ve written thousands and thousands of words  in my life, but never that much for one story or subject.   It was an eye opener.  One I’m thankful for.

I’m proud of the story that I wrote.  Whether it will actually be a blip on the judges raidar, who knows.  I’m certainly hopeful.  I’m also realistic and just a little bit pessimistic.  And if I don’t win, I can always go back, edit and try entering it somewhere else or perhaps even make it a full length novel then find an agent for it.

The one thing, as far as the judging goes, that I’m curious about is the editing of the novels.  Seventy-two hours is a short period of time to write a novel.  If editing is lacking because of this time constraint, is that an automatic disqualification?  I admit to not being as up to snuff on all grammar and punctuation rules.  I tend to just write then hit spell check and let it pick out the things it thinks I’ve done wrong.  Obviously that’s not a very good practice if I want to be a professional author, but for this contest is it more or less important?  I don’t really see anything on the site that tells how the novels are judged.  I suppose I’ll find out once they announce the winners in January.

All in all, I  glad I did this contest.  This contest was an opportunity to get something written and to prove that I could do it in a small amount of time.  If I can write that much in 72 hours, how much can I write, using only an hour a day, in a month? Two months?  Perhaps I should find out.

I won’t commit to anything for next year, but I can see myself doing this again in the future.  Hopefully the next time I decide to enter this contest, I’ll do it and remain healthy at least until after the contest is over.

Punk Art Catalogue front cover: Miller, Ringma & Hoppe, "Smashed Mona," 1978

In a side note, the next post should be about the other “punk” genres and I’ll try to get it posted before next week.  And I hope to begin a weekly schedule of a post each Monday, though I can’t guarantee a specific time.

Tags: contests, submissions, Writing

What a post-industrial dystopia just might look like. Only cleaner.

Cyberpunk seems, to me, to be one of the more widely used science fiction genres.  There are so many books, short stories, comic books and movies that use cyberpunk.  The general setting is usually a post-industrial dystopia.  Basically you have lots of cheap technology (cybernetic implants, etc.) that everyone has access to while the majority of the cities are slums and the majority of people struggle to eat on a regular basis.

So why is this such a popular genre?  Most likely because it’s a situation that so many people fear we’ll find ourselves in very soon.  If technology continues to develop as fast as it has in the last half century, we’ll have cybernetics within a century or less.  And if that happens, what will happen to humans and their happy, shiny lives?  Technology makes things easier, but that tends to go hand in hand with a relaxing of work-ethics and morality.

At least, that’s what many people fear.  It certainly seems to be the case if you compare a farm of today with a farm from fifty years ago.  Then again, farmers still work hard, they just have machines to make things easier and allow them to do 20 or even 50 times the production their forefathers did.

The first cyberpunk story I encountered was Bladerunner.  Yes it’s a movie, but movies still tell stories.  And this movie just happens to be based on a story named Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick.  I have yet to read the novel (I know, I’m terrible), but even reading the wiki entry of the novel tells me right away that there’s things lacking from the movie that are important in the novel and to what makes the story uniquely Cyberpunk.  I won’t give spoilers, because I hate spoilers myself.  But I will say that the movie shows a great deal about how humans may and likely will deal with androids if we get that far with technology.  Exploring the difference between a human and a robot who looks human can at times be both fascinating and depressing.  In the end, one has to wonder if we aren’t just squishy robots who learned empathy.

Cyberpunk has always struck me as uniquely depressing because of the dystopia element that is almost always present.  But people (I include myself among that catch all word), tend to enjoy depressing settings for the stories they read or the movies they watch, but only if the ending is satisfying.  Let’s take the Matrix as another example.  The reality of what humans had become was monstrous and shocking.  And yet, Neo, the protagonist, was still willing to fight and in the end he prevailed.  His reality outside of the Matrix wasn’t the best, but at least he was free.  So the end was satisfying in that there was hope things would improve for Neo and the other free humans.

Humans, while generally pessimistic, still have that sliver of hope inside that tells them to fight no matter how bad things seem.  And to read (or watch) such a struggle is fascinating to us.  Obviously we don’t want to experience such a thing first hand, but we certainly like the entertain the idea that if we were in that same position we’d do the same thing.  Or maybe that’s just me.

Psion - The first of Three Cat Stories

The first book I read in regards to cyberpunk was Psion (1985) by Joan D. Vinge.  That book was one I couldn’t put down, I was simply fascinated by it.  The story is about a vagrant boy who gets taken into an institution and shown how to use his telepathic powers.  Of course said institution wants him to do their dirty work and he does because of his affection for a particular woman who took him under wing.  I was in high school when I read that book.  It didn’t occur to me at the time that the story was cyberpunk because the main focus wasn’t on the technology, but on the extra abilities of “Cat” (the main protagonist) and the others at the institute.  And yet, it still had the same kinds of themes as the other cyberpunk movies and books.

While sci-fi isn’t my first love, I do have a “world” and a character who is uniquely cyberpunk.  The character is a genetic mutation with extra powers at her disposal, though she tends to rely more on guns and explosives to do her mercenary work.  I have to say that my attachment to her is in part because I created her first as a roleplaying character on a roleplaying forum and I have fond memories of the people I played her against.  The rest of my attachment simply stems from this cyberpunk character being such a unique character to me.  She’s my one indulgence in pure science fiction.

This entry was more rambling than I would have liked, but I thought I’d try a more stream of consciousness style for this entry.  Cyberpunk is one of the many reasons that I love science fiction.  And while I rarely delve into the deeper meanings, it’s still interesting to take a peek into them now and then.  Cyberpunk is one way for us to examine our humanity in a world grounded in reality.

My next entry will focus on the sprinkling of off-shoots the “punk” movement has caused.  Dieselpunk, biopunk, even elfpunk!

"Or my tigers will eat your brains!"

Oh and as a side note I received an e-mail confirmation of my registration with the 3-Day Novel Contest.  So it’s official, I’m dedicated to do this Labor Day Weekend.  Keep your fingers crossed for me.  I need to find someone around here who’d be willing to be my witness for the contest.  Perhaps I’ll ask one of my writer friends or a co-worker.

Along with the e-mail confirmation they sent this nifty little graphic.  I like the caption.  They should add “Or my tigers will eat your brains.”

Never mind, I added it for them.  Ha!

Tags: contests, Cyberpunk, Research, Sci-fi, Writing