There is a common misconception that writing science
fiction or fantasy is simple, easier than writing other kinds of fiction.
This view of things tends to come from people who haven’t read much if
anything in either genre but who’ve noticed just how much sf and fantasy
there is on the shelves, and who’ve seen a few films. Throw in a few
rocket ships or a sprinkling of elves, that all-important quest, and the
job is done, surely. I mean, just how difficult can this be?
More difficult than you might imagine, if that’s the
approach you plan to adopt, for make no mistake, writing sf and fantasy is
just like writing any other kind of fiction. As Lisa Tuttle notes in
the introduction to this writing guide, not only are the skills an sf or
fantasy writer needs the same as those required by any other form of
fiction, both genres generate a constant awareness in reader and writer
that the reality they’re engaged with is very different to their own,
which requires a different kind of attention in reading and writing. For
some readers, it’s an impossible task – witness the monotonous regularity
with which mainstream newspaper reviewers unhelpfully say ‘I don’t get
this’ – and, sadly, for some writers too, as mentioned above. However,
for those who do ‘get’ it, science fiction and fantasy provide genuinely
exciting reading, and fascinating challenges for people who want to write
it.
Most successful writers of fantasy and sf have read a
good deal of it already, and Tuttle stresses that this is key to
understanding how the genres work. If you don’t usually read sf or
fantasy, it is probably worth asking yourself why you want to write it.
Successful writers know, for example, that science fiction is usually
driven by the question, ‘what if?’, and that all the good ideas in the
world will not save a science fiction novel if it’s poorly plotted and if
the characterisation is weak or non-existent. They know too that fantasy
asks the same questions in a different way, looking for emotional truths
in recurring mythic patterns. SF writers tend to want originality while
fantasy writers look more towards grounding their work in tradition.
Both genres tend to be plot-driven and writers are always looking for a
good idea or a fresh approach to a familiar situation.
Having described the distinctive features of each
genre, Tuttle then focuses on a number of writing issues which, if not
peculiar to sf and fantasy, are nevertheless often unusually problematic
for writers new to the genres, including world-building (surprisingly
often writers pay rather too much attention to this) and characterisation
(writers too often pay insufficient attention to this, believing the ideas
will carry the novel; generally, they don’t) and addresses such knotty
matters as research. Many people suppose that it’s impossible to write
science fiction without being a scientist one’s self. While it’s true
that many sf writers are scientists, just as many, if not more, are
watching the world around them, reading New Scientist and asking
‘what if …?’ In the same way, fantasy writers may be reading collections
of old folktales but wondering how these might apply to the world in which
they live. Again, ‘what if …’
While the guide covers a certain amount of familiar
territory – use of language, rewriting, formatting a manuscript, finding
an agent – it also includes such useful features as advice from editors
about what they’re looking for in sf and fantasy novels, and in
particular, it discusses the short story, the quintessential sf and
fantasy writing form, and still very popular among readers and writers.
In all, this is an excellent guide for anyone
interested in writing and publishing science fiction and fantasy. Lisa
Tuttle knows the genres and the industry incredibly well and draws on her
own wealth of experience to provide exactly the right kind of information
and advice for the budding writer.
