★★★★☐

• Full Title: Putting The Science In Fiction: Expert Advice For Writing With Authenticity In Science Fiction, Fantasy, And Other Genres
• Editor: Dan Koboldt
• Year: 2018
• Pages: 254
• Genre: Writing, How To
• Publisher: F+W Media
• ISBN 978-1-4403-5338-3 (trade paperback)
• Author’s Goodreads page

 

Summary

This book, which my wife saw in the local library and thought I would enjoy, is a collection of 59 short essays about getting the science right in fiction writing. It grew from editor Dan Koboldt’s blog series Science In Sci-Fi, Fact In Fantasy, where scientists, engineers, medical professionals, and other experts share their expertise. The idea, as Koboldt says in the introduction, is to “help others avoid these pitfalls [getting science wrong] in their own writing”.

 

Commentary On Style

The style varies from writer to writer (about 40 of them), but the overriding shared characteristic is brevity — all the essays are short and to the point. Each can be read in a matter of minutes.

Several use the debunking-myths organizational style, as in Chapter 15: Plagues And Pandemics, where author Gabriel Vidrine sets up three common myths seen in fiction and sets the record straight. Others take a here-are-the-basics approach, as Koboldt does in Chapter 9: A Whirlwind Tour Of The Human Genome. I don’t know what guidelines Koboldt provided to his panel of experts other than length, but each is informative.

The book is divided into categorical sections, grouping topics together:

• Part One: Research Labs, Hospitals, And Really Bad Ways To Die
• Part Two: Genome Engineering: It Never Ends Well
• Part Three: The Brain Is Wider Than The Sky
• Part Four: From Zero To Sixty (Legs, That Is)
• Part Five: Things To Know For When Skynet Takes Over
• Part Six: Earth And Other Planets. Yes, Pluto Counts!
• Part Seven: Sometimes, It Really Is Rocket Science
• Part Eight: Star Wars And The Far Future

 

Did I Learn Anything?

I did learn things. Several things. For example, I learned octopi have arms, not tentacles (and this came in handy when I was writing my recent short story, Timeline 614T, in which I changed Commander Jessica Haverton’s “tentacles” to “tentacle-arms”). When it came to rocket science and astronomy, lab work, computer hacking, robotics, and basic physics, I think I had a pretty good handle on it. Where I learned the most was in the health and mental health topics, and biology.

 

Points Off For...

One thing that bugged me were the several entreaties to “just ask an expert, before you get it wrong” (which is a good enough idea) but without any instruction on how to actually contact such experts. Some, of course, are fairly obvious. When I worked on stories that involved police work and thought about asking a police officer’s opinion, I knew exactly where to find one. But if I was writing about an archeological dig, I wouldn’t have the faintest clue about how to contact an archeologist. I mean... Do you just call the local junior college and ask if they have an archeologist standing by? (I’m sure I could find one, but only because of my newspaper experience; I don’t know about the average writer who’s just starting out.)

Another nit to pick: The knowledge level changed drastically from one essay to the next. Some were written at a basic beginner level, like the chapter describing the differences between observatories in movies like Deep Impact and real observatories. Others seemed way above my pay grade, like some of Koboldt’s essays on genetics. Depending on your level of general science knowledge, only some of this will match up with your level of need.

 

On A Personal Note

In my personal attempts to write science fiction, I am highly conscious that I, personally, am not a scientist. I don’t know the first thing about creating artificial sentience, designing space ships, or how biology might work on another planet. I’ve also watched plenty of movies during which at least half the viewers groan: “That’s not how that works!” So I try to question everything I write, to avoid such pitfalls.

The first thing I do is ask: how important is this bit to my story? Because if I can determine that a certain tool of archeology or a description of a programming interface is mere background information, then I can save myself plenty of time and effort by simply leaving it out. (Instead of “Jane used a reticulating musterlite spade to dig out the fossil”, I can just write that Jane carefully removed the fossil.) Avoid the need for research, interviews with experts, and save space in the story too. But if something does seem necessary to the plot, or character development, then I know to — at the very least — use a search engine (and evaluate the sources I find for veracity).

 

Conclusion

This book would be a decent basic resource to have lying around, and I will almost certainly buy it if I find it at a hefty discount. Until then, I have bookmarked Koboldt’s blog site for those times when I want to check something. (On second thought, I might just use his site. I checked the first 28 essays of the book, and they’re all on his site.)

I think even a non-writer might benefit from this book, simply because it contains general scientific information. And almost all of us watch or read fiction that gets the basic science wrong.

 

 

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