by Neil Clarke
In my experience, different readers like different things in worldbuilding. Some want the worldbuilding to stay in the background, to be skim-able, not to get in the way. Others (like me) love an immersive world, one that feels “real” as you read, as if you could actually walk through it and see the sights and smell the cooking and hear the street sounds and know the touch of the air. As a worldbuilder I try to build those elements by using glimpses into daily life and what those routines and pieces of material culture mean to the people of that world; and also through showing how people interact with others, because social relations tell us a lot about a culture and its views of the people who live within it.
In the Unconquerable Sun setting I wanted to write about a set of cultures whose understanding of ancient Earth (that is, the world they came from generations before) is as fragmented and limited as our understanding of an ancient culture like the Sumerians or Mohenjo Daro, of which we have bits and pieces that we try to put together to understand who they might have been. But we’ll never fully know.
What excites you most about the new series, and what do you want readers to know about it?
All the Easter eggs hiding in the text.
You’ve mentioned that the book is influenced by the K-pop band Big Bang. Can you talk a bit about how this shows up in the book itself?
I saw Big Bang in concert a few years ago and literally walked out of the concert with Channel Idol in my head, a combination news and entertainment channel created and run by the government as a propaganda arm to build and sustain unity among a people involved in a long-term military struggle. It’s right there, immediately in the first chapter, impossible to miss. I don’t want to say more because this is a theme and element that plays out across the trilogy.
Your Kirkus review describes the book as action-packed and enthralling, edge of your seat. What is your approach to writing action?
First, make the reader care about the characters so that, when the action starts rolling, the reader cares about the outcome. Action for action’s sake, a sequence of running or fighting (etc.), is not intrinsically compelling without character investment. Layer your characters’ emotional struggles and needs into how the action plays out.
Second, deploy the Tade Thompson Fight Scene Clarity Test. It boils down to this: Establish early the landmarks, so the reader knows where everything is. Reference those landmarks as needed so the reader knows where the characters are (and what weapons they have). Make the lines of emotional tension clear.
Third, if you’re me, make sure you don’t interrupt action with tangents. If you need a quiet moment or a tangent, let any given sequence of action complete (however briefly) and use the quiet moment or tangent for breathing space before the next action sequence or as a way of putting a period on that particular bout of action. Vary the intensity. Don’t make it all one volume or speed. Use contrast, a pause for a whispered conversation or a sudden frantic race to a closing gate, to heighten the effect.
Behind the scenes, you have actually mentored other authors who’ve become successful in their own right. What does it mean to be a good mentor, and how do new authors develop that kind of relationship with someone more established?
I value so highly the connection between writing generations. Genre is always in conversation with itself. None of us pop up out of nowhere. The discussion constantly changes as new people come into the field while the global dynamic shifts around us. Change is bound to happen, and it has to happen to keep the genre alive and growing. A stagnant field is a dying field, and who wants that? I don’t. Someday, the evidence suggests, I will be dead, and I like the idea that the genre I’m part of stays alive as it grows from where it is now into something I won’t ever see.
So, it’s an honor for me to be able to do what I can to help aspiring writers of whatever age and young writers growing into their creative vision. Sometimes mentoring might simply be giving an encouraging word at the right time. Sometimes it involves reading a manuscript and offering critique. Sometimes a more experienced writer can give useful publishing advice to people who are struggling to figure out the basics of what to do and how to proceed. I was that new person once. The people who welcomed me and those who extended a helping hand made a difference in my career.
What makes a good mentor? Mentoring can’t be about you, the mentor, but rather must be about the person you are mentoring and what they may need. Mentoring should reflect the historical and generational conversation we are all involved in, how we reflect on what came before, interact with what is going on now, and create hopeful possibilities for the future.
How does a new author develop that relationship? That’s tougher to answer. Often it can be a matter of acquaintance. Get to know people at conventions, conferences, or online. It’s okay to ask questions. Remember that some writers don’t have the time, energy, or inclination to mentor, which is fine. Others might feel comfortable enough with a new acquaintance or friend to ask them if they want advice or help—and by the way it is always okay to say no, in either direction. You don’t have to mentor if you can’t manage it. You don’t have to accept an offer of mentoring if it doesn’t feel right to you. Look for organizations that welcome newer writers (and make sure they are legit and not predatory); look for zines that publish new writers. SFWA (Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America) has a Mentoring Initiative, which you can check out here: www.sfwa.org/other-resources/for-authors/mentoring-initiative
More than anything, I’d say mentoring is about community.
About the Author
Arley Sorg is a 2014 graduate of the Odyssey Writing Workshop. He writes SF/F/H, reviews for Cascadia Subduction Zone Magazine, and is associate editor at both Locus and Lightspeed magazines.
Editor’s Desk:
The Most Science Fictional Worldcon Ever
Neil Clarke
In recent years, I’ve had the privilege of being able to attend several Worldcons. It’s one of those rare occasions where I get to meet readers and authors that I might not normally see at the regional conventions I regularly attend. Last year, I made the trek to Dublin, Ireland to visit family and attend the convention. This year, I was all set to teach at Clarion West and then fly from there to New Zealand, the site of this year’s Worldcon. Of course, we all know what happened to everyone’s travel plans this year . . .
As a result, CoNZealand (conzealand.nz, July 29-August 2) has transitioned to a virtual convention and entered the history books as the first entirely digital Worldcon. In doing so, it also becomes the most internationally-accessible Worldcon ever. No matter where you live, if you have Internet access, you can become a member and attend this year’s panels, Hugo Awards Ceremony, and many other events. The increased opportunity for people to participate is fantastic, and I, for one, look forward to that. One of the aspects I’ve particularly enjoyed about the Worldcons I’ve attended outside the US has been the presence of attendees from a greater variety of countries. This was a big reason I was looking forward to heading to New Zealand.
This won’t be a traditional Worldcon experience. Some of it will mirror what we’ve come to expect, but the Worldcon experience can’t fully transition to this medium. Virtual parties, for example, aren’t the same. (Maybe everyone should crank up the heat in their homes while those are going on.) It might even be a little harder to replicate those chance meetings that happen so often in hallways, bars, airport shuttles, and hotel lobbies. I’ve had so many interesting conversations happen under those circumstances.
On the other hand, it might be easier for some people to participate this way than it is for them in a face-to-face event. If they can engage more, that’s something extra being brought to the table. Sometimes shaking things up a little is good and from what I’ve seen at other recent online cons I’ve attended lately, this is definitely an opportunity for our community.
Nothing like this should be expected to be error-free. This is relatively new territory for fandom and technology do
esn’t always behave the way we expect. If I’m on a panel and there’s a tech problem, no big deal. I’ll try to work with the other panelists and staff to find a workaround if there is a glitch. Just pretend a virtual pipe has burst in the room and that we are scrambling to find somewhere else to go. Perhaps you’ll have to catch the panelists in the consuite later. Relax and enjoy the ride. Technical difficulties and all. It’s a Worldcon and you should leave with a story.
As I mentioned, the Hugo Awards will be virtual as well. I’m one of this year’s finalists, so I know that they are hoping to have the winners accept their awards live on video. They have asked finalists for pre-recorded video acceptances, just in case. Seems wise to me, even if I find the thought of recording such a beast terrifying. It’s a good indication of how they are approaching things.
Being a finalist this year has been something a surreal experience, detached from reality. The thing that amuses me the most, however, is that I’ve spent so much of my career in this field working in a primarily online environment. If this should be the first year I win a Hugo for Editor Short Form, it will be online and international—two of the things that have been at the core of my professional experience. That’s pretty cool.
If I lose, well, that’s ok too. I see myself as just a side character in this story anyway. I’m always rooting harder for our authors and while none are in the running for a Hugo this year, A. T. Greenblatt recently won a Nebula for Best Short Story for her 2019 Clarkesworld story, “Give the Family My Love,” so I’m already ahead for the year.
The whole idea of a virtual Worldcon or Hugo Awards is something that would have been considered science fiction when I was a kid. (And if you toss in a global pandemic, murder hornets, and my cyborg parts failure, among the rest of this chaos—ok, maybe not good SF.)
My only regret for this science fictional Worldcon and Hugos is that this year’s winners won’t have the opportunity to experience taking a rocket-shaped award through airport security. Everything else will fall into place or relatively nearby. We’re science fiction fans, we should be able to handle this. If we can’t, no one can.
Hope to come across some of you at this year’s Worldcon. Please say hi if we happen to be in the same virtual space. It’s always a pleasure to meet the people who read and support all the work we do here. That’s no different when it’s digital.
About the Author
Neil Clarke is the editor of Clarkesworld Magazine and Forever Magazine; owner of Wyrm Publishing; and a eight-time Hugo Award Nominee for Best Editor (short form). His anthologies include Upgraded, Galactic Empires, More Human Than Human, Touchable Unreality, The Final Frontier, Not One of Us, and the Best Science Fiction of the Years series. His latest anthology, The Eagle has Landed, was published last July by Night Shade Books. He currently lives in NJ with his wife and two sons.
Cover Art:
Family Portrait
Yigit Koroglu
About the Artist
Yigit Koroglu is a freelance artist focusing on illustration and concept art. He has worked in the video game industry and created illustrations for card games and fantasy books for clients such as Wizards of the Coast, Adultswim, Titmouse, Bushiroad, Bandai Namco, Applibot, Fantasy Flight Games, NGMOCO, and Paizo.