It’s at least two generations since science fiction became mainstreamed – no longer popularly viewed as mere kiddie fiction and fodder for nerdish drop-outs, but a core part of everyday fiction consumption.
The cause of it, by and large, has been the combined impact of Star Wars and Star Trek – both so popular they’ve become culturally iconic, well outside the limits of the sci-fi genre.
So it’s OK to write science fiction, and a lot of credible writers do. For those writing sci-fi, of course – and I figure that a fair proportion of NaNoWriMo novels and other fiction will fall into that category – the challenge is always keeping the stories plausible. It’s this plausibility that establishes and then sustains the suspension of disbelief, however way out the setting might be. And that’s one of the keys to capturing and holding reader interest.
So how’s it done? To my mind one of the doyens of ‘plausible’ sci-fi was Robert A Heinlein, author of Stranger In a Strange Land among other classics, but also of a dozen ‘juvenile’ novels set in what – by 1950s standards – was a far-away future. But they were completely credible stories.
He did it in three ways. First off, he found a balance between wild imagination and realism. The realism became the foundation. In Have Spacesuit, Will Travel (1958) for instance, incorporated a very realistic description of a spacesuit, thanks to Heinlein’s own work designing pressure suits for the US Navy in World War Two. It was completely credible – in fact the A7L suits that NASA used for real on the Moon a decade later were pretty much to this specification. Much of his future was based on what he knew was plausible – and, from a 1950s perspective, on its way. His ‘atomic’ rockets used NERVA technology – a decade away from hardware when he wrote about them – to propel his interplanetary rockets on real-life Hohmann transfer orbits. His ‘torch’ ships employed the mass-energy equation E = MC <exp> 2, and were limited by Einstein.
This meant that readers didn’t blink when Heinlein also introduced an undefined magic space-drive to propel the Wormface ships in Have Spacesuit, Will Travel, adding a plot revolving around multiple dimensions and time travel. In fact, given that he wrote some of the hardest science fiction ever published, Heinlein got away with a great deal of hand-waving – telepathy in Time For the Stars, ‘monatomic hydrogen’ and the ‘mass-converter’ in most of his books, the Horst-Conrad ‘impeller’ drive that ‘gripped’ the ‘fabric’ of space-time in Starman Jones (that phrase really is woo woo, as Heinlein very well knew), along with artificial gravity in the same book. And then there were the FTL ships that ended Time For The Stars.
But those weren’t the only ingredients for suspending disbelief. Into that mix he also stirred credible plots based around realistic characters. And that is the secret, because it grounds the story, however way-out the setting, in the real world. In a world the reader can identify with. A world that is ‘different’, perhaps, but not ‘too different’. It all comes back to the fact that writing is all about people – people that you or I might feasibly identify with – or get to meet and know – doing things that you or I might also, quite feasibly, also do.
It’s all about character arcs, which remain the back-bone of novels – even science fiction stories. Heinlein was very well aware of this. His ‘juveniles’ brought it out particularly, because they were all coming-of-age stories. A well-established arc, and one of which Heinlein had complete mastery.
That’s why his stories were plausible. And those ingredients for plausibility also made his tales much more than just science fiction – with their realistic characters, facing realistic human problems, his novels demonstrated that Heinlein was one of America’s literary greats. In my opinion, he was up there with his near-contemporary, Ernest Hemingway.
Copyright ©Matthew Wright 2014