Star Trek, WorldCon, & Alien Romance

Folks:

First I want to say that I won't be posting next week, so someone else can snatch the Tuesday slot in this blog. And then I want to answer, in my usual roundabout way, a question Rowena asked yesterday -- a good question with a long answer.

I will be at the World Science Fiction convention. In 4 days of the 5 day con, I have 15 panels and a 3 hour Writing Workshop, so any of you who are there can find me easily.

On Friday night (you don't need a badge to come to this one) the Sime~Gen fans are throwing their annual Sime~Gen party at WorldCon, and featuring this year (40th anniversary of Star Trek) a tribute to Shirley Maiewski, long-time Chair of the Star Trek Welcommittee.

We've touched on the Alien Romance connection seething beneath the surface of Star Trek's various versions, but if you need a refresher just visit any Trek fanfic site! Whew! I'm scheduled for several Trek panels at Worldcon, no doubt much discussion of such relationships will ensue.

Having been involved in Star Trek fanzine fandom from the beginning (article in Spockanalia called Mr. Spock On Logic) (see my own Trek fanfic at http://www.simegen.com/fandom/startrek/kraith/ ) I watched the evolution of a field with great attention.

Star Trek fanzines arose out of Science Fiction fandom where "fanzines" never carried FICTION -- they were articles, and personal ramblings and letters of comment on novels, and reviews, and Q&A's with authors, and science and criticism and (best of all!) CON REPORTS!

Star Trek fanzines were started by people steeped in that tradition, but whose writers and readers wrote FICTION -- Star Trek fiction with ST characters from the aired shows, plus original characters. And that's what they published. At first many fanzines carried scripts in script format - stories that could have been filmed for TV. They had poetry, artwork, and most of all LETTERS OF COMMENT (LoCs).

At first all kinds of stories glumped together in any 'zine -- the distinguishing characteristic was the quality of the editing and demanding standards of the editors. They might be amateurs in publishing, but many were librarians or English Teachers -- people who knew story-structure and quality and were as qualified to edit fiction as any professional hired in Manhattan publishing. So the stories started good and got better and better -- surpassing in many cases stuff you could buy in Mass Market paperback.

Then a strange thing happened. With print runs topping 1,000 copies, fanzines began to differentiate on the basis of content. Paying $20 for as many words as $5 would buy in Mass Market made readers discriminating -- they wanted to be sure they would enjoy the stories before buying the 'zine. So they looked for subjects they loved -- characters featured, settings.

And fanzine publishers who footed the upfront costs and had to make them back began to invent GENRE -- one step at a time, right before my eyes, I saw market forces creating genre-rules, and I came to understand why genre exists, what it is and where it comes from.

It isn't a marketing tool some businessman invented to impose his taste on the market. It isn't a censorship tool. It arises from the READERS search for what they are willing to pay for.

If the readers searching for something to read can't recognize in the package the signs and signals that they will enjoy the contents, the publisher will lose money and not do any more things like that. If the reader thinks they'll like it, and then finds it's a dud, the reader won't buy anything that looks like that again, and a couple more tries later the publisher stops doing that.

The flaw in this system of developing genre is the lack of feedback from the end-user, the reader, to the publisher via the editor. In ST fanzine fandom, the feedback was immediate and detailed because every fiction 'zine carried LoCs that made it very clear what readers were looking for -- and often spurred writers to writing the next story.

In the commercial world, there was never any such feedback mechanism until the Internet. Even now, though, the feedback isn't making the message clear.

However, foment is churning up the fiction field and redefining genre. The leading edge of this chaotic change is in the e-book field where genres are being mixed, matched, melded and morphed into some totally new things. Alien Romance as a genre is an example -- SF AR takes it further.

The e-book field spawns these new definitions and leaders like Roweena and Linnea blast their way into the Mass Market arena.

[Rowena Asked]

Why should an industry professional who is judging my alien romances become confused and upset if my non-human, interstellar starjet pilot can levitate through the sheer force of his personality and will?

[end]

I have touched on the shape of publishing -- and the changes that morphed publishing in the 1980's and 1990's from an industry that served readers to an industry that serves corporate profit motives.

Way back when, editors bought books because they liked the book, because it seemed like a good book to them, because they knew other readers would want that book, or because they saw the book as a contribution of worth and value to the sum total of human creativity.

Today, that kind of editor has been drummed out of the business -- or retrained to think a different way. Today editors don't buy books -- they aren't the people who make the decisions on what gets published. Committees make those decisions, and the most powerful person on that committee is the MARKETER who makes the decision to buy or not buy on the basis of the one-sentence or one-paragraph description of the book -- "what can I sell this as?"

Movies and TV shows are bought or not bought on the basis of the same question. Not "what does this add to the sum total of human wisdom" -- but "what can I sell this as?"

So it's all about the marketer's perception of market (not the truth, the perception) -- and the reader's main tool these days is the internet, blogs, reviews, Lists, Boards, etc. There are websites where you can vote for books you like. There's amazon where you have half a dozen tools to make your opinions of a book or type of book known -- where you can TELL marketers what books are like other books by shaping your Wish Lists.

Some publishers' websites also allow comments and discussions.

As more of us use these tools to give publishers feedback on what we like, but more importantly WHY we like it, we will use the profit motive to supply us with more of what we really want.

Star Trek is a good example. When I started writing the Bantam Paperback STAR TREK LIVES! publishing was solemnly convinced that only adolescent boys watched STAR TREK and it was therefore trash. (that's the truth) The only value seen in that show was either silly, childish adventure wish-fulfillment or the techie yearning for a life without complex relationships (neck-up SF).

STAR TREK LIVES! exposed the content of Star Trek fanfiction which explained exactly why people really loved that show so much they wouldn't let it die.

That exposure ignited a fire by bringing together many more creative people -- people in what Spockanalia dubbed "Spock Shock" -- and what we today call Alien Romance -- that stunning realization of the pure sexiness of a non-human.

Today, TV Guide has admitted it in print, various books of criticism have admitted it in print, at least one TV Producer who worked on Star Trek, Ronald D. Moore, has admitted it, -- it's the RELATIONSHIPS driving the plot that make the action interesting.

At the time we wrote Star Trek Lives! that was a patently absurd notion when applied to science fiction. Today it's accepted.

The real question Roweena should be asking is not why should an industry professional become upset when she mixes levitation with sf -- (the answer is above: because they don't know how to pitch that to marketing) -- the question is how do we create an open feedback channel between reader and "industry professional" such that the "industry professional" and his/her marketer are hearing the same thing the writer is hearing from readers?

This blog is actually a BIG STEP in that direction -- but like the CB radio, blogging produces so much noise, chatter, and nonsense, that the message gets lost.

How can we sift our message out of the background noise and "beam it" directly into the brains of the marketers? How can we be effective at guiding marketers to serve us?

Jacqueline Lichtenberg
http://www.simegen.com/jl/

Beauty and the (Alien) Beast

I recently was pointed to a rather demeaning article about the romance genre as seen from the viewpoint of a visitor to a recent Romantic Times convention. Trashing the romance genre is nothing new; in fact, it seems to be the sport du jour of certain male types who are--strictly arm-chair psychoanalysis here--less than secure in their masculinity. Real men don't cry, fall in love or eat quiche.

But I'm not posting today to talk about crying or quiche. I'm talking about something in the article that caught my eye: the erroneous belief that all heroines in romance (and SF romance) novels are beautiful and unrealistically so.

That may have been true twenty years ago. I can't say for sure because although I was reading romances twenty years ago, I can't quote them chapter and verse and I don't own any of that era. But I vaguely remember that yes, the heroines were always portrayed to be head-turners--if not at the beginning of the book (in the case of those Regencies I loved to inhale where the heroine was often in disguise as a servant or stable boy), then at least by the half way mark.

But I've noticed less and less this devotion by authors to the perfectly beautiful heroine and am rather seeing the simple notation that the hero finds the female in question to be beautiful. That doesn't mean she's a head-turner. That doesn't mean that when she walks into a room all conversation ceases. It just means what I wrote: the hero finds the heroine beautiful. His best friends view her as plain as white bread. But when she's around, his heart beats a tad faster.

I'd like to take that concept into the genre of SFR because we like to talk about characterization here, and we like to talk about falling in love with an alien (and I don't want to get into the technical aspects of breeding--Margaret did that wonderfully in her blog. Suffice it to say, in my books, my main characters never start a nursery so it's not an issue).

Granted, most of our alien heroes and heroines are humanoid, human-like. Two arms, two legs, two eyes, a nose and a mouth. (We won't get into genitalia, either.) But I suspect that's because we are still very aware that our audience is human (at least, as far as we know). But writing SFR permits us to explore the -oid part of humanoid a bit more. And makes us think of how we define--if not beauty--then physical attraction between two characters.

In Gabriel’s Ghost I have a secondary character (who may yet get his own book) named Ren, who is distinctly alien, a Stolorth. His skin is a pale silvery blue, he has gill slits on the side of his neck and there's webbing between his fingers and toes.

Ren gets a lot of fan mail. Women love him. They adore him. And he's a blue-skinned alien.

I don't believe any where in the book do I define Ren as drop-dead gorgeous. I don't think anywhere in the book do I state that women fall in a swoon when he walks in a room. What I do let the reader experience in the book is Ren's personality, his compassion, his gentleness, his strength, his loyalty.

These are the same qualities that make other characters in the book (most notably, Dorcie, the ship's cook) find Ren very attractive. Okay, he's tall and buffed out. But he's not cover model handsome and nowhere do I typecast him as such. But I do typecast him as noted above: strong, gentle, loyal.

This type of characterization--whether with human male/female characters or alien male/female characters--is what I think is being misread by certain people as indidcative of characters possessing unrealistic beauty. That tells me they're skimming the book(s), not reading.

Yes, Dorcie thinks Ren is hot. But Berri Solaria finds him hideous (in fact, I do believe she refers to him exactly that way: "Hideous Stolorth!").

Whether or not Ren is attractive to a human female depends on the beholder. And that's how I like to craft my characters. Not unattainably perfect in face or form, but perhaps inexplicably but undeniably attractive, alienness and all. A contradiction in terms, for sure.

But--especially when crafting SFR--it makes for a better read.

~Linnea

Got Magic?

Ah! Is that a hot button for you? It is for me.

How many of us have read, or been told, that if it's Science Fiction there cannot be magic? If there's magic, it must be Fantasy.

I'd like a straw poll. If you've believe that there's no place for magic in SF --or if you've heard it, and wondered Why not?-- please comment.

It's easy. Click the crayon symbol to the right of the author's signature. You can be Anonymous. You just have to recognize the distorted alphabet soup. Sometimes, you have to do that part again because maybe a Z is really a z, but how could you tell?

Back to Magic... nor not... as a topic.
My position is that I don't appreciate being told what I can and cannot write.

That said, I was grateful for Guidelines when I was starting out. It's good to know the ten greatest "turn-offs" that might cause an editor, an agent, or a contest judge to read no further (metaphorically speaking).

Yet the rebel in me wonders: If it is scientificially OK, even desirable, for aliens from other worlds to have religions and spiritual beliefs, why shouldn't they have magic?

Is there a difference --as far as a third party observer can tell-- between a miracle and magic?

As we get older and wiser, do we "grow out of" magic?

Do we assume that a technogically advanced civilization capable of interstellar travel will be too sophisticated for magic? Will they have explained it all away?

We know the difference between a conjurer's act and something that truly cannot be explained.... don't we? Still we are fascinated when the pea under the shell is not where our senses tell us it should be, or when the magician catches the bullet between his not-even-chipped teeth.

When you think of jobs with legs, the entertainment industry must be one of the most durable... not counting the illegal occupations and the hereditary positions... there's singing and otherwise making music; news-and-story-telling; conjuring, juggling and magic-doing.

There's also cooking, farming and fighting.

There must be a reason why we need magic in our lives, whether it is Swords and Sorcery; dangerous, bottled-up, bald genies (why are they always bald?), wands and winged dragons; portals to parallel worlds; or the possibility of amorous and lonely hunks --pretty much like us, perhaps with two penises, or pointy ears, or fangs, or silver-bullet-semen-- travelling through the icy blackness of space in search of love and understanding.

Why should an industry professional who is judging my alien romances become confused and upset if my non-human, interstellar starjet pilot can levitate through the sheer force of his personality and will?

Suppose he glares intently at the heroine and sweeps her off her feet, literally, without recourse to magnets, nano-power packs, or other scientifically possible explanations?

Disclaimer: I don't mean to say that any industry professional that I know HAS become confused and upset by such seductive delights (on the other hand, my alien djinn heroes haven't --yet-- performed inexplicable magic, either). I'm simply reflecting the warnings I've heard from How-To enthusiasts.

I might also be contemplating a little genre rule-breaking, some time in the future. Is there anything else that we've heard is "Off Limits" in science fiction romance?


Best wishes,

Rowena Cherry

Interbreeding

If you haven't read Larry Niven's essay "Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex," check it out:
http://www.rawbw.com/~svw/superman.html

It analyzes the difficulties involved in a hypothetical mating between Superman and a terrestrial female, matters naturally glossed over in one of my favorite TV shows, LOIS AND CLARK. Niven deals at length with the problems posed by the probable bullet-like qualities of Superman's sperm, as well as his super-strength. Unless Kryptonians have self-control unknown to the men of Earth, he would crush Lois in his embrace "while simultaneously ripping her open from crotch to sternum, gutting her like a trout." Niven proposes an ingenious plan to get around these difficulties, using artificial insemination. He mentions but passes over more fundamental potential problems: Would Superman even find Lois sexually attractive, considering they belong to different species? What if Kryptonian women secrete sexual pheromones that human females lack? And wouldn't mating between them amount to bestiality (as Niven puts it, "sodomy")?

I maintain, in common with the guidelines of most erotic romance publishers, that if two individuals are sapient, they are "people" rather than "animals" to each other, so no bestiality is involved. As for the first question, Superman grew up in an Earth-human family. Like a duckling imprinting on a mother figure, he would identify with his foster-parents' species and would therefore find females of that species appealing. The really critical question about interplanetary interbreeding, however, involves genetic compatibility. What are the chances that an extraterrestrial would be fertile with a Terran? Niven suggests that Lois "could more easily breed with an ear of corn than with Kal-El."

Various authors present different solutions for this problem. It's not a factor in straight fantasy, of course (magic does the trick), but science fiction romance often has to deal with it. Some writers simply ignore it, as was common in older fiction. In Edgar Rice Burroughs' pulp classic A PRINCESS OF MARS, John Carter of Virginia manages to beget a son with Dejah Thoris of Barsoom, even though she lays eggs like a platypus. In my favorite H. P. Lovecraft story, "The Dunwich Horror," the hapless Lavinia is impregnated by the dark deity Yog-Sothoth, who is not only nonhumanoid but from an alien space-time continuum. Sometimes genetic engineering provides the mechanism for conception. It might be assumed that Sarek and Amanda had their half-Vulcan son Spock by this method, although Jean Lorrah's fiction (THE VULCAN ACADEMY MURDERS, THE IDIC EFFECT, and her "Night of the Twin Moons" fanfic series) postulates that the pregnancy occurred naturally. Another possible solution is a universe in which all human races throughout the galaxy were "seeded" by an ancient super-species and therefore have the same DNA. Susan Grant uses this device in her new novel YOUR PLANET OR MINE?, and the Star Trek canon contains hints of it. Although I don't say so explicitly, I assume in the background of my own vampire universe that organic compounds have been carried between planets and stars on comets and meteors, so DNA might be compatible among creatures evolved in different solar systems. In my current work in progress, I use the chimera concept (in the biological sense, not the mythological) -- the heroine's child has two fathers, one of them a monster from another dimension.

How would you handle the question of fertility between a hero and heroine from different planets or dimensions?

The Soul Mate

Folks:

Many Alien Romance stories show us how a human and an alien could nevertheless be soul mates, and after various harrowing difficulties convincing each other or themselves of the inescapable truth of that mating -- they give in to the inevitable.

OK, actually, I do have a well defined internal referent for "soul mate" -- and actually, as I see reality, there's no reason that souls might not incarnate as different species on different worlds.

See my post about worldbuilding on Linnea's post previous to this one where I touch on religion and spiritual philosophy as the ultimate result of worldbuilding.

Given an intelligent alien species that evolves under different conditions than we have on Earth, I can't see any way that they would NOT have souls equivalent to ours. And given that, no reason that some of our departed souls might not do a stint among some non-human species somewhere.

Given space travel, then there's no reason two individuals who are in fact soul-mates might not encounter one another. OK, the probability is vanishingly small, but that's what LOVE is all about -- the realization of the highly improbable. That's why it's called a "marriage made in heaven" -- only the Creator of the Universe who can manipulate probability could bring some marriages together.

Now, the kind of Alien Romance novel I'd like to see is one that focuses on the inevitable disparity of spiritual philosophies among soul-mates of differing species.

That would take a writer who has a deep and far-ranging grasp of some human spiritual philosophy or mystical view or religion, plus the imagination to be able to replicate the worldbuilding exercise I sketched in my reply to Linnea.

Has anyone read a novel like that? Cross-religion marriages are fairly common today -- I'd expect there would be a wide audience that wouldn't need detailed explanations about why religion in marriage is a problem, nor about the strategies and costs of dealing with that problem, especially when raising children.

What novel have I missed reading here?

Jacqueline Lichtenberg
http://www.simegen.com/jl/

It's Not Just Ships That Shoot...

I had a joyous email yesterday from a friend and sister author who's decided to start writing SFR. She already writes action-adventure romances--hot ones, actually. I think she'd be a great addition to the genre and Lord knows, we need more good SFR authors. And no, I don't consider other authors in competition with me. Readers read 'em faster than we can write 'em.

But that's an aside and not the real topic for Monday. The topic grew out of my writer-friend's query to me about writing SFR. What kinds of things do I consider when I write a story, where does the tech talk come from, how do I invent worlds? Those were a few of the things she asked.

Her email got me thinking. No one's ever asked me anything that quite in depth before. It forced me to give some serious thought about how I do what I do. And that generated a response from me that said, in essence, it's not just about ships that shoot.

The warp and weft of SFR--because it is a melding of two genres--is so much more than a riveting action scene in deep space. It's so much more than a technological puzzle on a space station or moon colony. It IS all that, yes. But it's also the characters, their reactions, their fears, their failings, their hopes, their dreams. Their challenges.

It's also the worlds, the settings: unique, unlikely, exotic, spartan, gadget-laden, surreal. It's about placing characters into these worlds, at the moment of conflict. Or as the venerated Jacqueline Lichtenberg quotes on her site (and I'm paraphrasing), it's when "I must" slams hard up against "You cannot."

Granted, some of these elements also exist in other genres. But in SF and SFR, things just seem so much more intense.

An Accidental Goddess grew out of an idea of a pressure cooker. I wanted a setting that was confining. I wanted pressure and problems to build without giving the characters a means of escape. So I plopped Gillie and Mack on a space station. I dismantled Gillie's ship so she couldn't run from her problems--she had to face them. I gave Mack a near impossible time deadline so he couldn't hop the next shuttle and take a vacation. Yeah, eventually they face ships that shoot. But the real crux of the story was forcing two people do deal head on with their emotions and their problems.

My upcoming Games of Command has a lot of shooting ships, one near crash and one major crash. It also has a half-human, half-cyborg main character, which certainly brings in the tech issues. But it's the characters reactions to these tech issues--not the tech itself--that drives the plot.

So SFR isn't just about ships that shoot. It's also about characters who strive and triumph. It's a good light show and an HEA.

I may have to design a seminar on the subject, either for an on-line class or one of the upcoming writer conferences. Would you take such a class, or attend one at at conference? If so, what kinds of things would you want to learn? What do you want to know about writing SFR?

I'm yours to command...
~Linnea

Afterthought

I should have posted this....

A step too far

Maybe I'm weird, but when I read a novel -- whether it is an alien romance, or totally terrestrial -- I expect to come across the scene on the cover, and I feel vaguely cheated if it is not there.

Does anyone else?

I'm not so bothered if the cover is an artistic grouping of artifacts, although... if there's a bejewelled dagger and a dragon feather, I suppose that I do expect them to be used to good effect in the novel.

Please do not misunderstand me. I'm not criticizing anyone's cover or art department. I am simply sharing my inner thoughts about covers in general, and my gut reaction to the gorgeous cover of my next book... and the hazards of hasty research.

The colors are fabulous, and the artwork is sexy. The alien sky is wonderfully ... alien. I couldn't ask for a better looking cover (unless I was absolutely out of my mind). It's just that the scene depicted on the cover of INSUFFICIENT MATING MATERIAL is a little more "romancy" than I had in mind.

An author friend who is a bit of an expert on cover psychology says that I should tell readers, especially male readers, to ignore the cover. But should I?

My gut instinct is that if the sex-in-an-alien-sea scene is suggested on the cover but is not in the book, then I have to --somehow-- write the scene and beg my editor to fit it in.

Is that extreme? Am I being too anal about this?

If only they'd given me a bare-chested hunk staring out to sea (face not visible, so his features could not be wrong) or up to his waist in the ocean... I should have suggested that! I'm not blaming the Art Department at all. I was warned that I could not have a god-like alien hunk in underpants out of respect for buyers' fine sensibilities.

Anyway, how many cover models would want INSUFFICIENT MATING MATERIAL displayed boldly across their groins?

Verisimilitude is important, and there are times when you just cannot ask your more exhibitionist friends to commit an illegal act and tell you how it felt.

Illegal? Well I think you can be pinched for doing the deed on a public beach, and I don't have access to any secluded ones in outer space.

In case any members of this planet's law enforcement community are reading this with professional interest, I must disclose at this point that the sea was too cold for my husband. (Mostly).

Suffice it to say that my scrupulous --and ingenious-- attempts at research took longer than expected. Either the tide was wrong (too far in or out), or the waves were too mighty, or too placid, or the sand was too gritty, or the light was wrong....

On the last day of my time by the sea, when my bags were packed and it really wasn't convenient to get my costume wet again, my dear husband and our child decided that despite the low tide, and a stiff onshore breeze, it might be fun to experience the surge of surf against parts south of their chests and north of their knees.

My mother went to get towels from the car, and we splashed into the North Sea (English Channel) to join dozens of screaming bathers and people surfing on one sort of board or another.
August. Low tide, but only a seven foot drop, not like the nine foot range one gets at the full moon or with the spring tides. For a month I'd watched the shallows at low tide for signs of sinister movement. That day... I forgot.

I did get to refresh my memory of whether there is any difference between the feel of sun-warmed, masculine, muscled skin in cold seawater (as opposed to in a fresh water bath, shower, or chlorinated swimming pool) but it's not useable. I mean, even in an alien romance, the hero's skin cannot be said to feel slightly slimy, can it?

Copping a feel was definitely not worth the risk.

If anyone in my immediate family had to step on a weaver fish, I'm glad it was me. I have very high arches, and go barefoot a lot. Thanks to that, only one spine got me, and it broke off before it could deliver much of the excruciating neurotoxin.

Knowing what had stung me, I flicked off the spine, got out of the water, got home as quickly as possible (luckily it was not far), and immersed my throbbing foot in the washing up bowl filled with water as hot as I could bear. And epsom salts. And more water.

That's what you do to draw out the poison, if you are unfortunate enough to step on a weaver fish or lesser weaver fish. They are spined, venomous little predators (they eat prawns, I believe) who like to bury themselves all but the spines in sand when the water is relatively warm.

Keeping the water as hot as possible until the pain was gone meant regular top ups. My dear husband was especially enthusiastic about this, and had no compunction about tipping very hot water onto my toes (the arch area was what needed it). I noticed an odd thing. Near boiling water feels almost cold for the first second or two as it is added to hot water. Then the brain resets, and registers that the water is very hot.

I didn't even limp the next day, as I lugged (schlepped) my little family's three heavy suitcases from Guernsey, to Gatwick, to Detroit. I was lucky.

I'm glad to have my feet under my desk again.

Rowena

King Kong

Last week I saw the most recent remake of KING KONG. I liked it better than I'd expected, except that I agree it's too long. The first hour of the three-hour film shouldn't have been required just to get the human stars to the island. I found Ann's gradual shift from fear of Kong to sympathy for him believable. The motif of communication between two "people" of different species without a common language is humorously illustrated by Ann's diverting Kong with her vaudeville act.

KING KONG is quite explicitly presented, of course, as a re-imagining of "Beauty and the Beast." In this version of the fairy tale, there is no possibility of a physical relationship between the human heroine and the Beast. In fact, on the romantic level, Ann has a human lover. The affection between her and Kong remains purely a friendship bridging differences, not an erotic love. Yet this film is already closer to science fiction romance than the original classic, in which the Ann character remains mostly terrified of Kong.

Could this love story be transmuted into a romance? Or do their differences render it too close to bestiality? If you were retelling the story, could you find a way to give Kong and Ann a happy ending? Aside from the question of eroticizing their relationship, what happy ending would be possible for Kong, other than returning him to his island? Once having experienced the sympathy of a human friend, would he be content in his former bestial existence, viewed only as an object of horror?

World Science Fiction Convention

Folks:

Congratulations Linnea -- Gabriel's Ghost is an absolute favorite of mine!

At LAConIV, (http://www.laconiv.org/ ) the World Science Fiction convention for 2006 in Anaheim California, there will be a significant presence of the EPIC organization (professional e-book writers), and Sime~Gen will probably be sharing party space with EPIC and perhaps some other groups. That's a Friday night party.

The convention's focus is on Hollywood, TV and film, as SF. Although not blatantly mentioned, I think you all can discern the AR slant beneath my panel assignments (15 - 90min panels in 4 work-days; plus the usual extra appointments for a Worldcon).

The opportunities to talk about Intimate Adventure, especially as AR, abound among these subjects -- Buffy is AR with a Vampire (or two), Fandom today writes AR online, Y.A. was the first to explore AR, Tarot archetypes are ABOUT AR (bondings with the "other"), Revising is where you add the Romance layer into plots from other genres, the three programs about alien invasion really fell short for lack of Relationship (nevermind romance - they didn't have any good aliens!), Adapting for the Stage you have to focus on the Relationship dynamic because you can't do huge vistas and dogfights in space, Books That Should Be Filmed (well, Gabriel's Ghost tops my list), FANTASY is really not so military, even when it's all battles, it's usually more Relationship focused (i.e. Intimate Adventure), and of course the query letter can NOW reveal the AR at the core of the work!

Here are the panels they put me on (tentative first schedule). I also have jigsawed in there somewhere a 2-3 hour Writing Workshop session and other appointments as noted in previous blog posts here.

A total of 15 program items.
----------------------------------------Panel 1: Wed 8/23 2:30 PM, 60-90 minutes. Title: BUFFY THE MASTERS THESIS Participants: Lorien Gray James P. Hogan Nancy Holder(M) Jacqueline Lichtenberg
----------------------------------------Panel 2: Wed 8/23 4:00 PM, 60-90 minutes. Title: STAR TREK FANDOM TODAY Participants: Jacqueline Lichtenberg Marah Searle-Kovacevic(M) Lee Whiteside
----------------------------------------Panel 3: Wed 8/23 5:30 PM, 60-90 minutes. Title: ISN'T Y.A. A GOOD THING? Participants: Hilari Bell James Frenkel Jacqueline Lichtenberg Catherine S. McMullen Sherwood Smith(M)
----------------------------------------Panel 4: Thu 8/24 10:00 AM, 60-90 minutes. Title: THE TAROT & WRITING Participants: Steve Englehart(M) ElizaBeth Gilligan Jacqueline Lichtenberg Kevin Andrew Murphy
----------------------------------------Panel 5: Thu 8/24 11:30 AM, 60-90 minutes. Title: REVISE, REVISE, REVISE! Participants: Peter S. Beagle James Patrick Kelly(M) Kay Kenyon Jacqueline Lichtenberg Louise Marley
----------------------------------------Panel 6: Thu 8/24 2:30 PM, 60-90 minutes. Title: THE "SURFACE" OF AN "INVASION" IS AT THE "THRESHOLD" Participants: Michael Cassutt Scott Edelman(M) Jacqueline Lichtenberg
----------------------------------------Panel 7: Thu 8/24 4:00 PM, 60-90 minutes. Title: BRITISH SF TELEVISION TODAY Participants: Paul Cornell(M) Simon R Green Jacqueline Lichtenberg Scott Alan Woodard
----------------------------------------Panel 8: Thu 8/24 5:30 PM, 60-90 minutes. Title: ADAPTING SF AND FANTASY FOR THE STAGE . Participants: Janet Wilson Anderson Brian Coghill Steve Collins Jacqueline Lichtenberg William Shunn(M)
----------------------------------------Panel 9: Fri 8/25 10:00 AM, 60-90 minutes. Title: HOW STAR TREK AFFECTED OUR LIVES Participants: Jane Espenson Jacqueline Lichtenberg Wendy Pini
----------------------------------------Panel 10: Fri 8/25 11:30 AM, 60-90 minutes. Title: BOOKS THAT SHOULD BE FILMED Participants: Michael Cassutt Jacqueline Lichtenberg Fiona Patton(M) Mary A. Turzillo Frank Wu
----------------------------------------Panel 11: Fri 8/25 4:00 PM, 60-90 minutes. Title: KEEPING STAR TREK ALIVE Participants: Linda Deneroff Devra Langsam Jacqueline Lichtenberg Marah Searle-Kovacevic(M)
----------------------------------------Panel 12: Fri 8/25 5:30 PM, 60-90 minutes. Title: A PROUD AND LONELY THING Participants: Linda Deneroff(M) Devra Langsam Jacqueline Lichtenberg
----------------------------------------Panel 13: Sun 8/27 10:00 AM, 60-90 minutes. Title: WHAT IS IT ABOUT BUFFY? Participants: Peter S. Beagle Jane Espenson Jacqueline Lichtenberg Lee Martindale(M)
----------------------------------------Panel 14: Sun 8/27 1:00 PM, 60-90 minutes. Title: WHY ISN'T IT MILITARY FANTASY? Participants: David Friedman James Hay(M) John G. Hemry Jacqueline Lichtenberg
----------------------------------------Panel 15: Sun 8/27 2:30 PM, 60-90 minutes. Title: THE QUERY LETTER Participants: Jean-Noel Bassior(M) Hilari Bell Jacqueline Lichtenberg Mary A. Turzillo

-----------------end program ---------------------
Live Long and Prosper,
Jacqueline Lichtenberg http://www.simegen.com/jl/
Creator of the Sime~Gen Universe
where a mutation makes the evolutionary
division into male and female pale by comparison.

A Good Day For SFR in the Galaxy

Short blog today because 1) my main pc is down thanks to an 'upgrade' by my firewall/anti spam/anti virus software, and 2) exhaustion. I'm just back from RWA National in Atlanta.

It was very much a shock. The RITA is probably the most prestigious award in the romance genre, and to have GABRIEL'S GHOST--a book shelved in the SF section--win it gives me hope.

More good news--CJ Barry's UNMASKED won the best overall in the Daphne Du Maurier Awards at the same conference in Atlanta. Why is that cool? The Daphne is a mystery award. CJ's book is both SFR and Mystery.

Woot!

Oh, the cat I already had. :-) You'll find him on the cover of my February 2007 release.

Hugs all, ~Linnea

The Most Extreme

Everything I need to know about constructing aliens, I learned from Animal Planet. Well, not quite everything, but an awful lot. That network has a series called "The Most Extreme," which features top ten countdowns of "extreme" animals in various categories, such as reproduction, courtship, partying, speed, acute senses, foul temper, endurance, gourmet eating, disgusting behavior, etc. (In our Eastern time zone, new episodes appear on Tuesdays, and reruns are shown at 7 p.m. Monday through Thursday.) Many real-world animals have such bizarre traits that a writer hardly needs to draw upon fantasy to create plausible aliens.

Chameleons display their emotions through color changes. Some creatures can sense electrical or magnetic fields or see into the infrared or ultraviolet spectrum. A microscopic animal called the water bear can endure freezing, boiling, hard radiation, or deprivation of food and water almost indefinitely; they have been known to survive in suspended animation for over a century and then "return to life." Bears hibernate for months without eating or excreting, and some snakes can live without nourishment for a year or more. On the other hand, shrews and hummingbirds have to eat almost continuously to sustain their rapid metabolism. Most people know male seahorses become "pregnant." Fewer know about the fish species (e.g., the angler fish) in which the tiny male attaches himself to the much larger female, drawing nourishment from her bloodstream, and atrophies to an inconspicuous lump on her body. Kangaroos can have three offspring in different stages of growth—one in the pouch, one hopping alongside, and one an embryo in suspended development waiting for the proper time to restart its biological clock and move to the pouch. Rabbits can be "a little bit pregnant," resorbing embryos if conditions aren't favorable for rearing young. Naked mole rats are mammals that live like bees or termites, with a single queen who produces all the colony's babies from her swollen abdomen. Some wasps lay their eggs in the living bodies of other insects. Some fish change sex from female to male according to the reproductive needs of their community.

Imagine the characters one could generate by assigning some of these traits to intelligent aliens. Octavia Butler's classic story "Bloodchild," as an example, features intelligent, sensitive giant-centipede-like beings who lay their eggs in the bodies of young people chosen from among the Terran colonists on their planet. Some other sources of weird and fascinating animal lore: BIOLOGICAL EXUBERANCE, by Bruce Bagemihl, surveys the almost infinite varieties of sexual behavior among Earth's animals (with particular emphasis on same-sex liaisons; the author does have an agenda). In OTHER SENSES, OTHER WORLDS, Doris and David Jonas examine the sensory abilities of animals who perceive their environment very differently from the way we do. Sarah Blaffer Hrdy's MOTHER NATURE draws provocative conclusions about human maternity from, not only cross-cultural anthropological findings, but also motherhood among nonhuman animals. Aliens are all around us!

Religious Warfare in Space

Here's the question.

Can romance -- or true love actually -- reach across a gulf between the stars dividing human and non-human and heal a breach caused by religion.

Or put it differently -- we love to write and read about "soul mates" -- a phrase that actually does imply the existence of some kind of spiritual view of reality (with or without a Supreme Being -- but something about a person that persists after death, the spirit).

So if your soul-mate is non-human from "out there" -- what does he/she believe in that's different from what humans believe in.

Well, yeah, somewhere on Earth you can find something that's probably LIKE what non-humans believe -- but just look around at today's world.

I've just done a quick browse through Moslem websites trying to find out what the beef is all about there -- Sunni, Shiite, Sufi, and dozens of other splits. Found a couple of good ones.

http://au.answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20060715214852AABQvZQ was particularly informative.

Now I have to figure out WHY they hate Jews and Israel. I know that some who already hate Jews and Israel have found justification in sacred texts, but I don't mean the excuse for hatred, I mean the real reason behind it.

Considering how bizzare all that Moslem point of view seems to me, it just occurred to me that we've given the interstellar situation short shrift when it comes to the religions that could divide human/non-human soul mates.

Oh, yes, a few novels address that problem -- then dismiss it with a handwaving, or find something so similar among the non-humans that the differences don't seem to matter.

But considering the modern trend to mixed-marriages, and bringing up kids in two or more religions plus the prevailing culture's irreligious attitude, -- and don't forget the difference between spirituality and "religion" -- well, with so much philosophical difference just among humans, what about the gulf between us and non-humans?

It suddenly seems unrealistic to portray a human/non-human soul-mate union without dealing head on with the problems of their religious views.

What do you think? Does religion and/or spirituality belong in an Alien Romance novel?

Jacqueline Lichtenberg

Isn't She Lovely?

How bitchy is too bitchy?

I had the divine good fortune recently to preview the first draft of a science fiction romance novel--it was excellent--and the author asked me an interesting question: did I feel the female protagonist was too bitchy?

My immediate thoughts were 1) I recognized the character had a strong personality at the outset and 2) what's wrong with being bitchy? Okay, don't jump all over me. I know what's wrong with being bitchy. Bitchy, in the true sense, defines someone complaining loudly and forcefully out of proportion to the problem.

That wasn't really the issue here. What we had was a female protagonist who, at the outset of the book (save for the first few pages when she's in a psychiatric ward), takes no crap from nobody. No way. No how. Because she realizes she's a dead woman and she's trying to survive any way she can--and rightfully suspicious as hell of those who are trying to help her.

Would we ask if a male protagonist was too forceful? Would we ask if he was too direct, too pushy, too aggressive in an action-oriented plot?

So how far can we go when we write strong woman in science fiction romance? Whether they be human or alien, how far can we push them before we lose our audience? Is this even something authors should worry about?

I do worry about synchronizing motivation when I write a character. Most authors do. So I'm not looking for the obvious answer of "as long as everything the character does makes sense, it's okay." I'm looking for something deeper. Science Fiction romance that takes on the kinds of action our books do, that explores the kinds of issues our books do, that opens the kinds of doors our books do is, by it's very nature, a genre that pushes the envelope. And science fiction and fantasy has long been the genre of larger than life characters.
But can we get bitchy?

In trying to answer this author's question to me, I thought of my Gabriel's Ghost. Another female protagonist who, at the outset, is threatened, both with rape and death. Her rescuer is the last person she'd nominate for the job; he's even a former enemy. It's a lesser of the two evils situation--much like the author's set-up with her character, Jax, in the psychiatric ward: do I stay here and let the shrinks mentally torture me to death or do I go with this total stranger who offers rescue for no salient reason?

Chaz's response--like Jax's--is to take that lesser of two evils but to do so with one hand on her weapon, her eyes wide open and her brain full of questions. And those questions do come out in the opening chapter, and not in the most polite of ways. So is Chaz too bitchy?

I've heard from a few readers who've said that Chaz Bergren in Gabriel's Ghost was their least favorite of all my characters, and some intimated she was "too military" (ie: forceful?) for them. Perhaps too alpha?

So I wonder--are we not yet to the place in science fiction romance where we can have a take-charge, kick-butt female protagonist? Or do we need to have more of them, so readers can experience and understand the loveliness of the bitch? If you find the strong, forceful female character bothersome (and tell me why you would), what would make her more palatable to you as a reader?

Inquiring minds want to know.
~Linnea

Empowerment or Assimilation?

Recently I read an article in a local paper about the trend of women in TV programs who are "empowered" by magic, psychic gifts, or other extraordinary abilities, such as in CHARMED, MEDIUM, and GHOST WHISPERER. The article cited BEWITCHED as the pioneer of this trend. Samantha, "empowered" by her magic? Not by any definition of the word I understand! She suppresses her powers to become a stereotypical housewife of the pre-feminist era. To please Darren, she agrees to refrain, as far as possible, from using magic, an agreement that of course gets constantly violated. Many of the episodes revolve around trying to hide or fix the consequences of magic use.

In the BEWITCHED universe, witches and warlocks are clearly a separate subspecies of humanity (as in the much later sitcom SABRINA THE TEENAGE WITCH, to which the term "empowered" might legitimately apply). They have their own society and culture, and the magical trait is inherited (and, judging from the example of little Tabitha, dominant). The series makes its theme of magic as a signifier of racial difference obvious when Darren remarks to his boss that Samantha's parents don't believe in "mixed marriages." Under pressure from her "mortal" husband, Samantha suppresses her natural heritage in an imperfect attempt to "pass." In the ultimate source text of this series' premise, Thorne Smith's novel THE PASSIONATE WITCH, the title character is a wicked seductress who uses enchantment to force the protagonist to fall in love with her. He eventually escapes her clutches and marries his true love, an ordinary human woman. In the movie based on this story, I MARRIED A WITCH, the witch and the male lead finally create a happy marriage, but the witch is still assertive and seductive. Domesticated Samantha, in the series loosely derived from the film, is something of a come-down from these prototypes.

I'm reminded of a horrifying story by Lisa Tuttle I read years ago in an SF magazine, called, I think, "Wives." An all-male group of human colonists has settled on an alien planet. Members of the native species, to survive, have attached themselves to the men as "wives." Their true appearance and anatomy aren't human, however, and they aren't even female in the sense of Terran gender divisions. (They may be hermaphrodites; I don't remember their actual sexual biology being explained.) They bind and mutilate their bodies to look like the human male ideal of sexually attractive women. The implicit social commentary is inescapable.

This issue applies to my favorite aliens, vampires. In fiction that presents vampires sympathetically, the hero -- the "good" vampire -- is often defined as the one who manages to behave most humanly. The clan patriarch in a made-for-TV movie, BLOOD TIES, featuring vampires as a different species, highlights this dilemma by calling a younger, progressive member of the family a "damned assimilationist," not only eager to be accepted among ordinary mortals but actually dating one, whom the old vampire derisively labels "the Pillsbury doughgirl." Weyland, the ancient, naturally evolved vampire protagonist of Suzy McKee Charnas' THE VAMPIRE TAPESTRY, when faced with the temptation of caring for his human "cattle," takes refuge in the long sleep (suspended animation) rather than risk becoming any more like them, becoming domesticated. It's not unusual in vampire romances, whether about supernatural or SF vampires, that a vampire, to qualify as the hero, must come as close as practicable to "passing" for human. Which leads back to the question of how humanized -- or domesticated -- a paranormal or alien hero can become without losing the otherness that makes him appealing in the first place.

What's Missing on Television

Folks:

At the upcoming World Science Fiction convention, I may have an opportunity (if schedules allow and appointments happen) to speak to some people actively making decisions about what gets onto your television screen. The Convention is in Anaheim, and the theme is Hollywood slanted this year. So there will be lots of media people there.

At the Sime~Gen party, Friday night, we may have a tribute to Shirley Maiewski, who headed the Star Trek Welcommittee for decades. We hope to share a party suite with EPIC, and perhaps a publisher or two. Who knows who might drop in!

Whole demographic swaths avoid going to movies -- or watching television -- simply because there's nothing there for them. But advertisers would like to reach them.

What's missing on television -- and in the movies? (yes, I know AR!) (How many times can you watch THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL?)

Think in marketing terms -- in terms of delivering an audience to an advertiser with just the right thing to sell that this audience wants to buy.

What audience (in the market to buy what kind of products?) wants what in entertainment?

What could we suggest to the powers that be that would lead them toward putting some really great Alien Romance on TV?

Forever Knight was Canadian - and though viable and wonderful, we lost it and Highlander because of the US Congress taxing imported shows so that they wouldn't be cost effective.

We've had aliens (Alien Nation comes to mind) who have a Relationship developing within the context of a larger story -- but what we really want is a story that is an alien romance, that has lots of other good stuff in it, but the Relationship drives it and shapes lives. (in other words, we want realism in our fiction!)

What ideas (ideas are non-copyrightable) can we offer to our TV moguls to "soften them up" and convince them that there's an audience for what we like?

Think for example -- would you set your recorder to capture this series premier:

On Jake's World, where they don't believe in Earth anymore, humans must trust each other or the empathic planet will destroy them.

Trust is one of the essential components in any bonded relationship, and an absolute deal breaker in a love relationship. (we've seen that on Smallville -- the pain Clark lives with for keeping his secret)

So a series about the ethics and morals of trust might be a wedge we could use. Trust the alien within us, and without. Trust that which can and will kill you, mangle you, bond you, submerge your identity.

What would the TV Guide entry for your favorite "missing" show be?

What images would you look for in the trailer to convince you that's your show at last!

If Trust isn't your issue -- what is?

Jacqueline Lichtenberg
http://www.simegen.com/jl/

One Picture Is Worth...

Even though I deal in words, I'm going to talk about pictures on this Monday. Images. Graphics. Cover art and how it influences the stories we tell and the stories you buy. Part of this is because I've just received the preliminary final (final preliminary?) of the cover art for my February 2007 release from Bantam, Games of Command. ::points to small image on left:: You can see the entire cover and read the current blurb provided to me by Bantam here:
http://www.linneasinclair.com/gamescover.htm

But I digress...

The other reason I'd like to talk about cover art is that it seems that our there in Readerville, there are some wild and wacky beliefs about same.

So I want to touch on why it's important (and is it? You tell me.). And why it's for the most part, fully out of the author's control (and I'm talking NY published books here, not small press where the rules can be vastly different).

I received a lot of fan mail about the covers of my Bantam books. My first cover artist for Finders Keepers, Gabriel's Ghost and An Accidental Goddess was Dave Seeley. A delight to work with. Brilliant, talented and kind. I was blessed--blessed!--to have him. I mean, he does Star Wars covers, for Pete's sake. And--shockerooni to me--he actually READ my books before doing the artwork. That's why the cover of Finders is an almost exact scene. Blew me away because I'd heard so many cover art horror stories.

My current cover artist is Stephen Youll. Now, I don't know Stephen and per Bantam edicts, am not supposed to be in touch with him, but from missives forwarded from my editor, he seems to be another gem. Plus he and his wife have a cat, which is not only a huge plus in my eyes but was a great help because I wanted a cat on Games' cover (and got one). Plus plus he also does CJ Cherryh's covers ::genuflect genuflect::.

So in the midst of this love-fest I'm having with my cover artists, let me explain one thing to readers: 99.9% of the time, authors have NO SAY in what goes on the cover.

If you click on the link to see Games' cover above, you're seeing exactly what I was sent a few days ago. And this is the first time I've seen it. No, I didn't see any preliminary sketches. No, no one asked me what my characters looked like or if I wanted a blue cover or red. No one asked me anything at all.

Now, when I was sent this image, my editor did ask if there was anything horribly, glaringly wrong. They do ask that. But even if there is, they don't correct it, 99.9% of the time. It's simply not cost effective to do so.

That's why my An Accidental Goddess cover has my main character, Gillie, who is a military adviser, looking like Space Bimbo From Hell in Red Spandex. That image is not remotely Gillie, not remotely in her personality or her wardrobe.

How did that happen? Marketing decision, I was told.

Well, sales have been brisk. I just hope buyers aren't too disappointed when the only place they're going to find Space Bimbo From Hell in Red Spandex is on the cover.

Which brings me to the main point of this blog (see, I do get there eventually). Just how important is the cover image? Science fiction and fantasy is a unique genre. Inside our pages are things, creatures, people, places never seen and only imagined. It's often difficult to correctly describe with words. It has to be that much harder to do so in images.

For that very reason, I feel the SFF/SFR covers are extremely important. But also for that reason, I understand why sometimes they can't be. The author's vision may be different from the artist's. And the artist has to listen to marketing, leave room for the title, name and any blurbs or tag lines AND still create something visually attractive.

So how much is the cover art worth to you, as reader? And you, as author (as we have other authors who comment here as well)? How much does it influence not only your decision to buy but your enjoyment of the book? Do you find yourself referring back to the cover art as you read?

And specifically with my new cover for Games. I understand that Bantam is going to shelve me--for the first time--in the romance aisles with this book. Will romance readers like the cover or be put off by it? And will my science fiction fans make the trek across the store to find me?

Inquiring minds want to know. So blog away, kidlings!
Hugs all, ~Linnea

Intimate Adventure with Dragons

Many SF and fantasy authors have written about bonds between dragons and human partners, notably Anne McCaffrey and more recently Mercedes Lackey in her Joust series. The latest series along this line, Naomi Novik's alternate history set during the Napoleonic Wars (Horatio Hornblower with dragons!), beginning with HIS MAJESTY'S DRAGON, portrays a deeply committed relationship between a dragon, Temeraire, and his aviator captain, Will Laurence, entirely from Laurence's viewpoint. In addition to the fascinating world-building and dragon biology and psychology, this story fits into the category of Intimate Adventure, a new genre defined by Jacqueline Lichtenberg at http://www.simegen.com/jl/intimateadventure.html. This proposed genre category, which crosses existing genres but is often found in Action/Adventure, replaces "Action" with "Intimate." The true core of the story focuses on the development of a relationship (not necessarily a romantic one -- often not, in fact) rather than on the outward action. As Jacqueline says:

"Instead of combat to the death on the field of Battle, the Protagonist must face trials and dangers, terrors and tests on the field of Intimacy.

"Instead of weapons of combat (guns, knives, swords, cudgels), the protagonist must wield the weapons of Life -- emotions, psychology. The protagonist must solve the problem faced in the world outside the Mind with the weapon of Emotional Honesty within the Self and within the Relationship."

In Novik's alternate world, dragons are used for aerial warfare to support armies and navies. Although ridden like cavalry horses, most have intelligence at least equal to human. They learn languages in the egg, from the speech around them, and hatch already speaking. Unless harnessed at hatching, they become feral and refuse to speak with human beings. A dragon bonds with the person who harnesses it, like a chick imprinted upon a parent figure at hatching, and the handler gives the dragon its name. It's clear that, although dragons could not possibly be compelled to obey people, they seem to need this relationship and gladly follow the directions of their human partners.

Aviators are regarded as an eccentric, rakish lot (unknown to the general public, they even allow women to serve in the Corps!), viewed with mild suspicion by the upper classes. An aviator's profession precludes the normal life of a gentleman. They live in areas remote from cities, with plenty of space for the quartering and training of dragons. Managing a landed estate would be impossible, marriage and a family very difficult. Laurence, a ship's captain in the British Navy, captures an egg from a French ship. To his dismay, the newly hatched dragon chooses him as a partner. Duty requires him to resign his naval commission and become an aviator, dedicating his life to the young dragon.

Despite his initial reluctance, he quickly grows to love Temeraire, who fiercely returns his devotion. The series (three books so far) exemplifies the theme of deep-rooted affection between members of two different species, a friendship with no possibility of romantic love. Although like a child at first, Temeraire grows so quickly he soon becomes more of a partner. Laurence discovers that dragons are not beasts like horses but complex, sapient individuals. He also comes to understand why being an aviator is not simply a career but an all-consuming way of life. The story focuses on the development of a relationship between equals bridging a radical unlikeness. By the second book, THRONE OF JADE, the officer who originally resented the loss of his naval career to a dragon has become willing to go to China, forsaking everything he knows, rather than be separated from Temeraire. The discovery of how dragons in China are respected and integrated into society confronts Laurence with a fresh crisis of conscience, continuing into BLACK POWDER WAR. His sense of justice and love for Temeraire incline him toward supporting the young dragon's determination to promote the rights of English dragons, but he feels his duty requires that such demands for social and political equality, and the upheaval they would provoke, be postponed for the duration of the war.

The publisher thoughtfully released all three novels at once (and in paperback, so we could afford them!). Now, however, we have to wait until sometime next year for a new installment. Very difficult to bear, when there's a teaser chapter in the back of the third book! Although this series isn't romance, it's a riveting tale of human-alien intimacy.

Designing Lovable Aliens

Why do we love aliens?

Could we love a yucky looking alien? A gooey blob? A slinky tube?

What is so attractive about someone vastly different?

How can we possibly read and write SFR?

Is it the haunted loneliness of Barnabas Collins that attracts us? The barriers of Mr. Spock? Or is it the lure of The Unknown?

That's the reason I read science fiction -- and the reason I write it. The "science" part has all kinds of questions about things that nobody knows -- "going where no one has gone before."

The adventure of exploring strange places, and the adventure of discovering things about here and now that have elluded others is irresistibly captivating.

But it's the same with the Relationships, the "fiction" part of Science Fiction, whether it involves Romance, Love, or friendship, or some adversarial tie -- or possibly a felial tie! (oooo, I adore half-breed stories!)

When you meet an alien, what you've been taught about his species may turn out to be wrong, and you have to become an explorer, discovering what makes this alien act and react. You have to become half-alien yourself, or at least more empathic than the ordinary human.

It is an adventure into the psyche -- yours and the alien's -- in exactly the same way that you must explore the science, with an open mind, willingly discarding what you "know" that turns out to be wrong.

That's why it's so puzzling that it has taken until now for us to begin to get SFR!

These two genres go together like Mom and Apple Pie, like Pizza and Beer. How can you have one without the other?

So tell me, what is it about aliens that you find so fascinating? Could you love a gooey glob?

Jacqueline Lichtenberg
http://www.simegen.com/jl/

It's No Laughing Matter: Humor in SFR

Sometimes, when I read blog comments or reviews posted about my books or other SFR works on the internet, I have this overwhelming urge to reach through my computer's monitor and throttle the poster on the other end.

Why? Because he (and I'm not being sexist here; it's usually a he) just doesn't get it; just doesn't get the fact that a good percentage of my prose is deliberately tongue-in-cheek. Humorous. Space Opera. A romp. Campy. Fun.

Now, if no one got it, I'd unplug the keyboard, dust off my badge and gun, and go back to searching the back alleys for missing persons and deadbeat dads. But most of the readers get it. So it's not those I'm scratching my head over. It's the ones who quote out sentences or paragraphs from my novels as 'proof' the books aren't worthy of consideration in the speculative fiction field. Mostly they're sections where one of the protagonists is tallying up the physical merits of the other AND doing so in a light-hearted way.

That light-heartedness, that twist of the phrase, that nudge-nudge-wink-wink aspect seems to totally escape certain SF bloggers/reviewers.

Don't these people EVER JOKE AROUND?

And it's not just my work. I remember seeing similar comments about Rowena's totally delightful and fully hysterical FORCED MATE--a book which had me chortling out loud when I read it. Yes, it was on an SF site or blog and the fact that Rowena was parodying and poking fun at the romance genre in prose went--zip!--right over these people's heads. They read every word as if it were gospel. And had the usual negative knee-jerk reaction to it.

Why must science fiction be so damn, bloody serious or it's not SF? Why must each page drip--not only with blood--but angst? Why is being obtuse preferable to being funny?

I happen to love Peter David's Captain Calhoun books for the Star Trek (r) series. Now, there's some funny shit. But why is it when a female author--under the cross-genre heading of SFR--writes the same way, it's panned and damned? (And please don't tell me it's because the science is correct--there's nothing scientifically accurate about Peter David's "dogs of war" characters who ARE dogs running on all fours and yet function as humanoids...or the character who's an overgrown brick wall...). I mean, I LOVED Mel Brooks' SPACE BALLS.

When you lose the ability to have a good giggle at yourself (or your characters), IMHO you're losing something very important. SF is the venue of IDEAS not angst or worse, not intellectual snobbery.

So the question then becomes: if a character giggles in space, will anyone hear it?

I await your erudite and thoughtful input.

Hugs all, ~Linnea

Aliens, housecleaning -- Isn't it romantic?

Would I want to see Mr Spock vacuuming up my dustbunnies?
No.
I don't think the spectacle would be either romantic or funny. Not for me, anyway.

I imagine that Mr Spock, if confronted with the need to use alien household appliances, would locate the appropriate user manual, study the instructions, and carry out the domestic operation with great efficiency and a deadpan expression.

Maybe he'd raise a quizzical, Vulcan flying eyebrow. Actually, that might be romantic in a traditional Regency romance sort of way.

Of course, in my home, a highly intelligent and efficient alien might have trouble finding instruction manuals. If I were to write a blow-by-blow account of the exercise, I think an alien would comment. His remarks would probably be very funny to everyone except myself, the butt of his cool wit.

I am sure many authors have written scenes where their aliens have issues with human housecleaning appliances....

Dara Joy's splendid early novel, Knight Of A Trillion Stars, comes to mind. What was it her alien hunk attacked with his broadsword, thinking it was a rival? A TV? An answering machine?

I could check, but that wouldn't start a discussion. For me, that book is a Keeper. I keep all my Keepers in a library/closet I made under my very broad staircase, the trouble is, right now it's a bit hard to get into that closet for reasons I won't go into. Its door still shuts and locks, though.

Is chopping up the furniture the closest that any alien hero has come to housework? If not, I'd love recommendations. Generally, I think alien heroes tend to be extremely macho. They are world rulers, starship commanders, space pirates, intergalactic diplomats or trading tycoons.... they have servants, or orderlies, or androids to do the domestic dirty work.

Maybe I just haven't read the right books. No one seems to wash their clothes, or scrub toilets in an alien romance. Susan Kearney said that her aliens' clothing was self cleaning (smart!!! and with nano-technology, this is becoming a reality). Intelligent spaceships have aircleaning devices that work a lot better than the monsters we keep in our human furnace rooms. I once thought of modeling an alien toilet on a whole-house vacuum.

Then I read a joke about a sexually adventurous man who did himself a mischief.

In FORCED MATE my alien prince does have a little bit of trouble drawing a bath, mostly because he takes a macho stand (sitting on its edge, waiting for the heroine to take her clothes off and get in) without realizing that human baths don't automatically stop filling once the water reaches a sensible level.

He also has trouble with a shopping list. To his chagrin, he learns that Marijuana is not the fragrant, feminine toiletry product that he'd assumed it was.

And... he has trouble with the heroine when she discovers that his spacecraft toilets perform automatic urinalysis and a few other functions and announce the results. Romantic? Maybe not, but it appealed to my low sense of humor.

And then, there's recycling. We all do it, I suppose. Like Susan Sizemore, I like military books. I find them a treasure trove for research, for instance for battlefield uses for urine (to make communications equipment work). My heroine of FORCED MATE is grossed out when she learns how spacefarers obtain yeast to make deep space bread. But that's getting into cuisine, and housekeeping, rather than house cleaning.

My "thing" is to gaze at the underbelly of an alien character's lovelife and poke fun at it. And, you might not have guessed it, but of all the sciences in science fiction, Biology is my favorite.

I'll be gone for the next four weeks. Do you know the ins and outs of a crab's sex life? I do. :-)

Best wishes,
Rowena Cherry
Newsletter: www.rowenacherry.com/newsletter
with excerpts from Linnea's Accidental Goddess and Brenna Lyons' Last Chance
and an Exotic Male Entertainer

Shooting Star

My December release, Shooting Star. This is my favorite cover on all of my books. And of course I love the story.

Fast talking, hard hitting, devil-may-care Ruben could outmanuever anyone who sought to attack him, charm any he chose to befriend. At the helm of his starship he was invincible, when driving a hard bargain, unbeatable, in the bedroom of a beautiful woman, unstoppable. But the secrets of Ruben's past were about to catch up with him and put everything he thought he knew about himself to the test. Now his ship has crash-landed on a primitive world, the voice of his long-lost brother whispering in his mind was causing him to question his sanity, and a mysterious beauty had cut through all his defenses to the lonely man beneath. In Tess's arms he would find his true elf, igniting a love that blazed through the night like a Shooting Star.

Vampires and Mr. Spock

What does a vampire have in common with Spock on STAR TREK? No, I'm not suggesting that the average vampire has a hyper-rational mind, pointed ears, or green blood. For me, however, the appeal of these two figures is similar. Both epitomize the allure of the Other in a form I find particularly attractive. When I first read DRACULA at the age of twelve, I was fascinated by the vampire because of the sensuality of blood-drinking. The scene in which the Count forces Mina to drink his blood was my favorite from the beginning. Many years later, I figured out that I responded this way because sharing blood represents the ultimate intimacy, and I still find such scenes deeply stirring. But I'm also drawn to vampires because of the same reason I love Spock. In each case, the character occupies the liminal position of "almost human but not quite," a person who looks a lot like us, yet with enough physical differences to appear exotically attractive, and thinks something like us but differently enough to embody a skewed perspective on the human condition.

Another appeal of both Mr. Spock and the typical vampire of fiction springs from his special relationship with the heroine. A Vulcan rigidly controls his emotions, never expressing them in the presence of others except during Pon Farr. The average vampire regards himself, with considerable justification, as superior to "mortals" (a term I don't find quite satisfactory, since vampires CAN be killed, but oh well) and views most of us as prey or, at best, pets. The heroine, whether a fan author's Mary Sue alter ego or a vampire novel's unusually strong woman, becomes, through her unique qualities, the Vulcan's or vampire's exception to the way he treats most of us mere mortals. In Suzy McKee Charnas' incomparable THE VAMPIRE TAPESTRY, psychologist Floria Landauer is the ancient vampire Weyland's "exception," just as, to cite an extreme example, Clarice Starling is Dr. Lecter's "exception." Depending on the behavior and attitudes to which our heroine becomes the exception, this situation may open a deeply troubling can of ethical worms, but that topic holds material for another entire essay. That's my main problem with the misnamed film BRAM STOKER'S DRACULA. Unlike many fans, I find Vlad unattractive (well, aside from his physical appearance, which strikes me as silly, not sexy) because his “love” for Mina constitutes making her an exception to the cruel way he behaves toward most other people, including Lucy, a pattern of evil and cruelty the film apparently expects us not to notice.

For a fascinating treatment of the reasons why the Beauty and the Beast motif appeals so strongly to many women, why we love monsters and feel regretful when the Beast turns into a handsome prince, go to Suzy McKee Charnas' website (www.suzymckeecharnas.com) under the “Byways” category and read her enthralling essay “The Beast's Embrace.” You can find these principles explored fictionally in her VAMPIRE TAPESTRY and her unforgettable Phantom of the Opera novella, narrated by Christine telling the TRUE story, “Beauty and the Opera, or the Phantom Beast” (reprinted in Charnas' collection STAGESTRUCK VAMPIRES AND OTHER PHANTASMS).

Another provocative examination of the allure of the alien monster, the Other, is presented in James Tiptree Jr.'s short story “And I Awoke and Found Me Here on the Cold Hill's Side.” A character in this tale, cautioning the narrator against falling prey to the fascination of meeting his “first real aliens,” theorizes that human beings throughout our existence as a species have been erotically attracted to “the stranger” because exogamous mating “kept the genes circulating.” With aliens from other planets, although mating may sometimes occur, interbreeding can't (unlike in the STAR TREK universe). But many people find aliens irresistibly attractive because of the “supernormal stimulus” effect. If we innately desire the Other, we desire aliens most of all because they're EXTREMELY Other. Tiptree's story presents this compulsion as completely negative. The human species is having its soul bled away by this fruitless yearning for aliens.

Needless to say, I don't find the situation quite so hopeless. Friendship or love between human and nonhuman is the central theme of many of my favorite stories. One reason I was a devoted fan of the TV series BEAUTY AND THE BEAST was that there was absolutely no chance of Vincent's ever becoming “normal” in appearance. Vampires appeal to me on the same level. Therefore, I'm always a bit disappointed when a paranormal romance ends with the “cure” of the vampire, which, to me, negates the very aspect of the character that attracted me. Hence, unlike many vampire fans, I don't respond strongly to the resonance of the “repentant bad boy” theme, in which curing or at least reforming the “evil” or “cursed” undead monster plays an integral part. Having the human partner become a vampire doesn't please me much more, in most cases. (There are exceptions, of course. A talented writer can make either of these scenarios satisfying to me for the duration of a novel.) The ongoing challenge of two unlike characters embracing across the distance between them is what I enjoy reading and writing about. My own vampires are members of a different species who appear human and live secretly among us. Like human beings, they have the capacity for ethical choice and can be either good or evil. I've written an entire book of literary criticism about this kind of vampire fiction, DIFFERENT BLOOD: THE VAMPIRE AS ALIEN, published by Amber Quill (www.amberquill.com). The bibliography contains many titles that would interest fans of alien romance. For my own series, all the stories and novels are listed in internal chronological order at the “Vanishing Breed Vampire Universe” link on my website (www.margaretlcarter.com).

Another series that fascinates me because of its “alien vampire” dimension as well as the search for understanding between people who differ from yet depend upon each other is the Sime~Gen series by Jacqueline Lichtenberg and Jean Lorrah. It takes place in a distant future when humanity has mutated into two halves (“larities”). Gens look like us but produce the essence of life-energy, selyn. Simes, who look like us except for tentacles on their forearms, need selyn to live but don't produce a measurable amount themselves. They have to draw this substance monthly from Gens or die in agony. You can learn about this universe in depth at www.simegen.com. When the first book, HOUSE OF ZEOR, was newly published, I saw Jacqueline on a TV interview in which she said the novel would appeal to fans of vampires and STAR TREK. It sounded like my kind of book, so I read it, and she was right. In fact, on the Sime~Gen website you can also read about how the “Star Trek effect” shaped the writing of HOUSE OF ZEOR. Which brings us back to vampires and Mr. Spock!

Romancing the (SF Shy) Romance Reader

Other side of the coin this week, kidlings.

I've often said that writing Science Fiction Romance is like being the bastard child of two genres who never much liked each other in the first place. Traditionally (as noted last week), science fiction readers get the yips at any mention of romance. And romance readers get the ickies when the word science fiction is mentioned.

Now granted, romance readers--in my humble experience--are far more likely to at least give SF a chance. But there are still those--and they invariably end up at my table at a book signing--who state: "Science fiction in a romance? Oh, I could never read that! Because [pick one or more and yep, I've heard all these excuses]:

1 - I'm not smart enough
2 - It's too full of strange words
3 - I failed science in high school
4 - I only read about familiar places
5 - It's all about weapons and ships

and so on and so forth.

This baffles me, as much as I'm baffled by SF readers who balk at romance, never considering that romance is as much a part of our existence as gravity, never considering how--duh--they came to exisit in this world (you think what, Immaculate Conception?).

But let's take them one by one:

Not Smart Enough - Egads, what a horrible thing to say. "But you DO read books?" I ask (being we're in a book store, it's an obvious conclusion though they could be there for the coffee). "Oh, I love books!" Ima Dummy answers and rattles off a list of authors from the NYT and USA Today best seller lists. Aha, so you can wrap your mind around a who-dunnit set in London or follow a family saga with more players than the Super Bowl, but you're can't read SF.

Strange Words - And "reticule" isn't? (if you all read my parting comment on last week's post then you know this already). Surcoat? Are "gainsay" and "fortnight" words you routinely use (well, maybe Rowena does). When's the last time you had ratafia or orgeat?

Those are all terms routinely found in historical romances. If the reader can wrap her brain around them, what's so problematical about "transporter"?

Failed Science in School - Did you fail People 101 as well? SFR books are about people. Granted, some may be androids or have blue skin, but they're people: people striving for something, people getting into trouble, people falling in love, people facing danger.

Remember, to YOUR grandmother or great-grandmother, your current existence in 2006 is high-tech. Wouldn't your grandmother be interested in reading your life story?

Familiar Places - I often respond to that with: "Ever read or watch the tv movie, Shogun?" And follow it with, "And the last time you went to Japan was...?" Now, once in a while I get someone who goes there routinely. Like dear 747 Captain Susan Grant. But Sue reads and WRITES science fiction romance (damn good ones, too!). So she's excused.

But how about 16th century Scotland? That's certainly not familiar. Or present day Moscow, Sao Paulo, Oslo or Amsterdam? Point is, one of the reasons we read is to explore unfamiliar places. I'm sure if I went to the outbacks of Australia it would be as bizarre to me as the red deserts of Riln Marin.

And a space station? Try going to the Sawgrass Mills Outlet Mall (Ft Lauderdale FL), especially around the winter holidays. Talk about an enclosed CITY with every conceivable language! I did a book signing there last winter and, sitting in the entry way of Books-A-Million, between hearing Russian, Yiddish, Spanish, Haitian, French (Canadian and Continental), Portuguese (Brazilian and Continental) and at least four other languages I couldn't identitfy AND watching the teenagers lope by in their Goth outfits... my own space station of Cirrus One (An Accidental Goddess) seemed damned bland and normal by comparison.

Bang bang, Zoom zoom - All about weapons and ships? No, it's about people but yes, there could be weapons and ships. And those pirate romances you love to read are, what, set in a lounge chair with feather wands? Okay, so maybe you're never been in a starfreighter, but I've never been in a hansom cab or a coach-and-four or a chariot. And I'll bet dollars to doughnuts there are a lot more among us who haven't ridden a horse than have. Or a camel. Or a donkey.

Reading is all about expanding our experiences. Well, let me back up for a moment. Reading is about fun. But after the fun it's also about expanding our experiences, stepping into someone else's shoes (or gravity boots), tasting their fears, feeling their joys. Seeing life through a different set of eyes.

To me, there's no better palette to create with than science fiction romance where I'm immersed in a new world and everything comes to me fresh and untested. In the same way that 17th century England is new and unusual to me. I just don't know why some romance readers can't see that correllation.

So, what are your thoughts, your suggestions for bringing the wary romance reader to our books? I look forward to your input.

And now I think I'll down a quick ratafia, grab my reticule and head out for the nearest jumpgate in my huntership...

Hugs all, ~Linnea

YE ALIEN GODS!

Is he a god from outer space? Or is he --or she-- simply perceived to be a god because his or her technology is so superior, and because he (or she) can do things we can't explain away?

At some point, the reader is going to want to understand what this person does that makes him or her be recognized--or mistaken--for a god or goddess.

It's not enough to call a Regency hero a rake if he isn't sexually active. If the romantic hero is a pirate, he really ought to attack another ship. If he is a highwayman, he has to rob someone. If he is an alien, he probably ought to have different morals, and believe (rightly, if he's here!) that his own civilization is superior and more advanced than ours. Would he think we're cute? Quaint? Backward?

If he can read minds, how can the heroine keep any secrets? If he is all-knowing, where is the internal conflict? If he does mind sex, how does he feel about the common or garden variety?

So, if the hero is supposed to be a god....
What does an author of good taste and delicacy do?

Is it enough to say he is a god, and maybe have him indulge in a bit of shape-shifting, like Zeus? The Greeks and Romans have such great precedents! If he's only THOUGHT to be a god because he's an alien with superior technology, and a better body, how much does he need to do to convincingly maintain his status while he is visiting?

So far, my alien djinn romances haven't shown my alien "gods" at home. Apart from staging impressive displays of apparent "levitation" and secretly surveilling everyone, they've been too busy with their sex lives, reinvigorating a decadent gene pool, and dealing with various political crises including assassination attempts and royal weddings that don't go off with the proper dignity, pomp and splendor.

I think I'm onto something with the wire-tapping, though, if my next hero is going to be --to coin a phrase-- the answer to a maiden's prayer. Maybe not my "next" hero. I'm trying to write a swordfighting hero's story, but the incorrigible Djohn-Kronos (from MATING NET) keeps rearing up and demanding his own Happy Ever After.

Happy 4th everyone!

Rowena Cherry

Making it up as I go

The one truly cool thing about writing in this genre is that you get to make things up. The hard part about that is making sure that the reader understands what it is you're saying.

So I try to come up with creative names for metal since I figure that in the future that technology would advance. Also new slang is always fun, especially since I try to keep the cursing to a minimum in my books. My mom is going to read them. The latest wip has a new put down for my characters to call each other in exasperation. After all they are brother and sister so it's not as if they call each other sweetie and darling.

Joss Whedon is really good at this. In Firefly his characters cussed in Chinese and had great slang. I thought the entire thing was "Shiny"

But the best thing the my creative juices have invented is the Murlaca. Yep, even made up the name. The Murlaca was introduced in Stargazer and is a gladiator type match fought between two men. Their only weapons are a series of hooked blades that they wear on their forearms and use to slash each other to pieces. The government uses the Murlaca to assasinate its criminals. My evil race of witches, the Circe uses the Murlaca to get rid of their enemies and in Phoenix, my current work, my two heroes will wind up unknowingly fighting each other in a death match.

Its all kind of bloody. But I'd love to see it on the big screen.

Monstrous Matings

I've been a fan of H. P. Lovecraft since I first started reading horror at the age of twelve and discovered HPL through "The Dunwich Horror" in an anthology. Like Arthur Machen's "The Great God Pan" (to which a character in the Lovecraft story alludes), it concerns a woman impregnated by a monstrous deity from another dimension—in the Machen story, through a mad scientist's experiment, and in the Lovecraft story, through a dark ritual. I'm totally out of sympathy with HPL's mechanistic-materialist world view, but I love the Cthulhu Mythos with its ancient lore, forbidden tomes, and tentacled monsters from outside our universe. (I've written an article about how Stephen King uses Lovecraftian motifs in the framework of a different philosophy in IT; the article, "The Turtle Can't Help Us," is archived on www.strangehorizons.com.)

It would take only a slight tilting of the viewpoint angle to change "The Dunwich Horror" from horror into a first contact story. Viewed objectively, what's so dreadful about mating with an intelligent entity of a different species? (Of course, this plot premise has roots in the early twentieth-century visceral horror of degeneration and miscegenation, a driving force behind the exclusionary, racist immigration laws of the time—sentiments shared by HPL—but that's a whole other topic.) Marion Zimmer Bradley was heard to say indignantly of half-human Wilbur Whateley in "The Dunwich Horror," "What's so terrifying about a poor deformed boy?" I've speculated about what sexual union with a Cthulhu Mythos entity would be like (perhaps analogous to a love affair with a deity in classical myth—Zeus visited his lovers in numerous nonhuman shapes) and how a half-human character fathered by such an entity would experience the world. My collection HEART'S DESIRES AND DARK EMBRACES (www.amberquill.com) includes a story in which the hero was fathered by an extradimensional entity but chooses his human side for love of the heroine. Currently I'm working on a novel about a woman whose little boy was begotten by a Lovecraftian "deity" possessing the body of the hero, her boyfriend.

The concept of a child's having two fathers, one of them not human, isn't completely outside the realm of SF plausibility. Look up "chimera" on the Internet, and you'll find that fusion of two zygotes within the womb to form a single organism can occur naturally, and fusion of the embryos of different animals has been done artificially. A Chinese experimenter actually created a hybrid rabbit-human embryo. (It wasn't allowed to grow, of course.) While this sort of experimentation has to proceed under stringent ethical limitations in the real world, imagine what a vast, amoral entity with superhuman intelligence could do along these lines.