Sequel - yes or no?

An interesting conversation came up the other day at my writing group.  One chap lamented the dreary labour pains he suffered trying to write a sequel to his first book.  That novel didn’t have any cliffhanger ending or other factor that required a sequel, so he speculated on whether to bother with the effort.  

This position gave me my biggest gobsmacking moment of the week.

He explained that he felt horribly strait-jacketed by the previous book.  All the details and history and characters established as his world’s reality now hung on him like chains.

Well, let me say I am having the literal, 180 degree opposite reaction to the sequel to “Home on the Strange”.  I certainly enjoyed myself creating the fictional flatlands the Brewster sisters rode, no question there.  However, when I began the sequel, I practically giggled when an unexpected sensation of comfort came over me.  I can only liken this feeling to that moment when you’ve finished moving.  The truck is gone, the furniture is all arranged and the boxes are unpacked.  Now you can relax in your wonderful new digs and admire the view.  The combination of new possibility and secure cosiness sent sparks of energy flying from my fingertips and into the keyboard.

I can actually understand the other writer’s misery…but only if he was creating the tenth book in a series.  By then, I have no problem imagining the cozy new home is starting to feel cramped.  Many tales from literary history relate of famous authors being sick to the fargin’ teeth of their successful series, yearning not to write another one.

But the second book?  That’s too soon for me to even begin to puzzle out.  Obviously, anyone who feels that way should not write a sequel, no matter how much the marketplace fads favour them.  If it hurts that much, the pain and drudgery will ooze out of the prose and ain’t nobody gonna be happy.

Writing is EASY

lapping the sun

Suit yourself

Three Rules

"Spin" by Robert Charles Wilson

“SPIN” by Robert Charles Wilson

First published 2005

(I can't promise the following will be spoiler-free)

Spin is arguably the crown jewel of Canadian author Robert Charles Wilson’s work.  A nice sack of awards. Lots of four and fiver star reviews on Goodreads.  

I cannot deny the work is skillfully written and takes hold of some big SF concepts.

Yes, there’s a “but”…

For me the grand SF concepts became buried under an overlong examination of mundane human affairs.  There is no question that any SF story needs some rounded, real characters interacting with each other, but there has to be a balance.  I’m reading this genre for the spicy bits.  I found the final dish to have too many beans and not enough chilli.

And the bowl was too big.  That’s the nub of my complaint.  Spin needed to be 450 pages the way I need five spoons to eat.  350 pages would have made for a much more engrossing experience.

For the last 15 years, give or take, books have suffered bloat.  Forget about the obesity plague sweeping the citizens of the world, put novels on a diet!  Unlike many authors, Wilson’s writing talent is sharp enough that there is no obvious slabs of fat to easily slice away.  The pruning would have to be “surgical” and carefully done, but it definitely needs doing.  

The span of the book covers some thirty-five years, all done thru the, frankly, dreary viewpoint of Tyler Dupree.  When an unknown intelligence encases the entire Earth in a barrier bubble, there is a strong case to be made we need to stay grounded with the viewpoint of a pretty standard human.  In my opinion, this is one case where following the formula of major disaster books and movies might have been the way to go.  Multiple points-of-view from various walks of life around the world.  But that’s getting into the zone of an entirely new recipe-dish.  Let’s stick with this meal.

The other gimmick that burns my biscuits is time skipping.  I hate it.  I hate the gimmick the way TV overuses it and I didn’t enjoy it in Spin.  Right away, we’re thrust (as we later learn) near the end of the saga.  First, we’re left log-rolling in a confused effort trying to understand who’s what and what’s where, but we’re game to try.  We piece together that Tyler and Diane are fugitives in Asia, attempting something very risky with drugs.  At this time, we have no idea who these people might be, but they’re staunch allies and friends, at the very least.

And then, a chapter break to “35 Years Earlier”.  SIGH.

And by word count, the flash backs are not flash backs, but the main event.  We spend more time in the linear days starting from the first appearance of the spin effect barrier while tripping over these chapters in the future every now and then.

This choice turns many themes and moments of tension into flaccid yawns.  The story generates a speculation whether Tyler will ever reunite with his childhood crush Diane in any meaningful way?  Well, yes, yes they do.  So, all the pages we have to read about Tyler pining at some level for Diane is a waste of our time.  The author has told us they get together.  A sharp scene occurs with Tyler driving cross country with Diane dying in the back of the car.  Will he make it?!  Will she?  Well, yes, he will and she will because the author has already told us.  Yawn.

In some stories where this time bounce stuff happens, there will be some sleight of hand trickery.  It turns out the flash forward Tyler and Diane are robot duplicates or aliens that have stolen the humans’ identities or something.  But, not in Spin.

Well, I wanted to enjoy this book.  It came highly recommended.  The super science concepts really charged my imagination.  But, I guess some people just love a lot beans overwhelming the meat and spice.

Jargon

A decade or so ago, I took a creative writing class.  One of the top drawer teachers around, being knowledgeable and full of open-minded energy.  I, of course, submitted a science fiction themed story.  It amused me more than frustrated me that she had red pen circled “hyperspace” (and a few other similar SF terms), citing I need to explain such things in the story.

These last couple of months I attended a class in Canadian Science Fiction.  The class had a full spread of folks, from zero knowledge about SF to a couple like myself who have a black belt in the genre.  As a result, each class did at least one dance step around confusing terms and jargon words.

Jargon.  There is certainly no list of words to use without explanation or definition.  Where is the line?  It is a fascinating question to me.  What is the base level vocabulary a reader needs before jumping into the pool?

It is not a question endemic to Science Fiction.  Every genre requires a specialized vocabulary:

“Saddle up a cayuse and go check the dry wash in the north for stray dawgies.  Better pack some iron in case those bushwhackin’ polecats is still in these parts.”

“The COD for the vic was a single gunshot to the chest. We found prints and residue on the vic, so it was up close and personal execution.”

Westerns and crime-mysteries have an advantage in that movies and TV depictions are pretty in-line with their book cousins.  The rip-roarin’ space adventures that make up 90% of film science fiction are only a slice of the available material in books.

SF also suffers additional handicaps in that much of its jargon is totally made up.  Somewhere in the back aisles of time, some author had the privilege of coining the term “Hyperspace” for the very first time…and explaining it to his readers.  (hmmm…I wonder who that was?)  If there is any focus on the ‘science’ of science fiction, making it hard and crunchy, then the reader has to be something of a polymath to follow a story devoted to exploring biology, a story involving engineers building a ship and a story revolving around astrophysicists finding a new planet.

I guess the key safeguard is to have quality beta readers to go thru that first draft to not just spot structural holes and plot flaws, but to circle “Slip Space” in red pen and say it needs defining.  Clumsy writers stop the story to stiffly explain the term.  Good writers slip in hints and context so I somehow know what Slip Space is without even being aware of being taught.