It is true that one’s core personality is resistant to change. Many fine motor skills also require considerable practice to tune up the muscles and nerves – although even here, the correct training regimens can make a massive difference. Despite the fact that in many ways the brain is resistant to change, it is also a powerful information processing device. It has on the order of 100 trillion synapses, all operating in parallel at millisecond speeds, and each synapse is itself a tiny processing engine. Sometimes the brain needs constant repetition over a long time to learn – and sometimes it grabs it in an instant.
Consider that, of the 20,000 words in a basic vocabulary, children learn the vast majority of them with just a single repetition. Just one sound in the correct context, and the word is engraved in the brain for the rest of the child’s life. The brain is both resistant to change, but also capable of rapid and efficient learning. One cannot instantly reformat a human brain with new software as one can a digital computer, but on the other hand, there is still much that can be done by simply feeding it with data.
It is almost humorous – people will believe that faster-than-light travel is possible, or that net energy can be extracted from the quantum vacuum, or that years of meditation with a mystic cult will allow one to directly control one’s cellular metabolism, yet they refuse to accept that books allow us humble Librarians Temporal to do the things that we do.
The almost visceral disbelief in the power of words held by so many is instructive. Some of this must be a reaction to long years of propaganda. The corrupt elites shy away from clear thought, as a rat scuttles away from the sun. They do not want the masses to think clearly, and so, both with deliberate malice and also through their own unconscious aversion to the truth, they subtly warp and ruin the structure of human knowledge. Oh, they don’t have giant billboards proclaiming “words are not powerful,” it is only that they have left the average person with the feeling that nothing can come of careful scholarship – or if not nothing, then very little and at the cost of great and painful effort. Instead, they are seduced by the flood of mere flashy information, and see data as just shallow diversion. Through long experience they are conditioned to the status of a serf, or even a domestic animal, that cannot imagine any other existence and only accepts the boundaries that their masters have laid out for them.
Clear thought is a deadly threat to those oligarchs who rule by dint of unearned power and social domination. Whenever they encounter clear thought their first instinct is to destroy it. I am sometimes asked if the Librarians Temporal are opposed by evil librarians that seek to use knowledge for ill. I wish that it were so, for that would be an easier enemy to fight. No, our enemy is the chaotic and miserable state of human knowledge that has been created by rulers of bad character.
Thus it is that, first and foremost, the Librarians Temporal are sworn to the truth and the correct cataloguing of data. For we do not serve mere books: these are but the physical carriers of the divine. For what is data but thought, and what is thought but the soul? Corrupt the data, and the links between data, and you corrupt thought. Corrupt thought, and you corrupt the soul. This, the Librarians Temporal are sworn to prevent.
May the blessings of Dewey fall upon you all.
Afterwards: Notes on Writing and the Cybertanks
It all began one night when, during a fit of insomnia, I thought: what if a giant robot tank fought Godzilla? In a burst of manic intensity I dashed off about three thousand words, emailed a first draft of “Cybertank vs. Megazillus” to my genius editor brother (a published historian of no small note), and went to sleep.
I figured that would be the end of it, but to my surprise, he sent me an email back with words to the effect ‘oh my goodness this is great this is awesome write more please please please!’ And for better or worse, I did.
I have been a lifelong science fiction fan, although I never thought that I would write any. Once in high school I started to write a story about an evil dictator who saves the world, but it was so bad that it made Jim Theis (author of “The Eye of Argon”) look like F. Scott Fitzgerald, and I quickly abandoned the effort.
In my day job I am an electrical engineer and a systems neuroscientist. I’m probably about as much of a renaissance person as it is possible to be in real science today without turning into a dilettante (although I wouldn’t know a promoter gene if it jumped up and bit me on the Krebs cycle). It has been said that a scientist is first of all a species of professional writer, and perhaps all those years of writing papers and grants and abstracts, etc. have finally turned a terrible writer into a sometimes-acceptable one (I did mention that I have a genius editor brother? Behind every middling-good author there is a better editor).
(Ed. note. Many of the Old Guy stories actually originate with dares such as “I bet you can’t write a story that includes…” To which Tim replies, “eh, that’s a dumb idea.” A few days later he sends email cursing me as the idea rolled around in his brain for a while and he thinks he figured out a way to write it. A while later I get a really fun story to read. Never underestimate the power of having lots of bad ideas. Some turn out to be good ones.)
What other authors have inspired me? That’s a hard question. I’ve read so much. I grew up, of course with the ‘big three’: Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clark, and Robert Heinlein. While I liked all of them, even as a youth, I thought Asimov’s writing was stilted, Clark a bit too pedantic, and Heinlein I enjoyed most of all. Since then? One of my absolute favorites is Stanislaw Lem. In my opinion, he really gets, to the extent that any mere human can get, what it would be like to deal with truly alien minds. Certainly Iain M. Banks and his “Culture” universe was greatly influential for me. Other authors, in no particular order, include Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle, Gene Wolfe, Frank Herbert (NOT his offspring, sorry), Peter Watts, H.G. Wells, Jules Verne, Charlie Stross, Peter F. Hamilton, David Brin, Gregory Benford, Ray Bradbury, David Bunch (‘Moderan’)[1], Neil Stephenson, China Mieville, list truncated for brevity.
What about Keith Laumer and his “BOLO” series of books? Sigh. I have read some of these, they are enjoyable, but in my opinion Old Guy lives in a totally different universe and my cybertanks have nothing to do with Laumer’s BOLO tanks. If anything I think the cybertanks have more in common with Iain M. Banks’ self-aware spaceships of his Culture series (although even here, the resemblance is limited). Saying that Laumer’s BOLOs are like my cybertanks is like saying that Star Trek is like Star Wars because they both involve white-painted spaceships. I like both, but they are not the same.
Still, I suppose this is unavoidable. There are tons of works out there with humanoid robots or giant space ships, so if someone writes a novel about a humanoid robot or a giant space ship you don’t get a piling on of ‘oh you’re ripping off Asimov’ or ‘oh you’re ripping off George Lucas.’ On the other hand there are relatively few novels involving giant self-aware robot tanks, so I guess I’ll just have to live with it. I can only say: read a cybertank story, and read a BOLO story, and other than the presence of giant robot tanks, you are just not going to find much in common. I’m not saying that one is better than the other: just that they are different.
Do I have any writing advice? Until I sell a million copies the short answer would be no. You want professional fiction writing advice, check with Stephen King.
The long answer is that, for authors who are not going to be the next Stephen King (which would be 99.99999% of us out there), yes I do. Most writing advice is for people who want to break into the pro ranks. I’m going to do something different here, and give you:
Timothy J. Gawne’s rules for non-elite fiction writing:
1. Keep your day job. There are billions of people out there in the world, a hundred million more every year, and lots of them are smart and have word processors and far too much free time on their hands. Human ability is increasingly of very little economic value, and no matter how talented you are, only the luckiest fluke will make it possible to earn a li
ving writing fiction, let alone get rich.
You are not special. Deal with it.
2. Write for your own enjoyment. Write only to please yourself. Write what you would want to read, write about ideas that you feel strongly about. This may not be a very professional attitude, but as with rule #1, you are not going to be a professional, so go with it. Writing fiction is a hobby, like knitting or gardening or solving Sudoku puzzles. If other people like it, great, if not, not. But don’t make yourself miserable trying to be what you aren’t. If you are going to write fiction that will not make the best-seller lists, why suffer?
Advice for professionals always says that you should be disciplined and set a consistent time aside every day for writing etc. Don’t do that! Write only when you feel like it. If someday it no longer moves you, do something else and never look back.
As a side note, writing fiction is an absolutely wonderful and affordable hobby. Take a cheap laptop and regardless of whether you are stuck in an airport or a doctor’s office, etc. etc. you can kill infinite time writing and proofing. And it’s cheap! Think of the money you can save not paying for movies or video games.
This is also a great excuse. You are not wasting time writing. You are using the time that you would otherwise be using to watch YouTube videos of kittens or kill aliens in a video game. Don’t use the time that belongs to your day job: use the time that you would use for entertainment. No guilt!
3. Get a decent editor. Even if you are an amateur, you need an editor. A writer without an editor is like a bicycle without a seat. Except that the bicycle inflicts less pain on the customer.
The last I checked my genius editor brother is available for rates that are hardly more than nominal. (ed. note: rates go up if it involves vampires, teenagers who are ‘special’ or teenagers who are ‘special’ and in love with vampires.)
4. The editor is always right. Well, mostly. Forget about “The Force”: trust in the power of the editor. As an author you are free to ignore editorial advice. I suggest that perhaps you should do so no more than 1 out of 100 times (although often I will take the editor's advice, but adapt it to my own taste – that doesn’t count).
Here’s a trick: often the editor will leave a comment like ‘this doesn’t make any sense!’ So, explain why it does make sense! Bingo, another 300 words done!
If the editor is wrong because they didn’t understand you, then you weren’t clear enough, and they are still right.
The author who consistently rejects editorial advice because ‘I’m a genius and you just don’t understand my geniusness,’ is headed down the road to literary damnation where dwell the unspeakable horrors whose names we dare not speak and such people should be eaten by shoggoths. IMHO.
My editor suggested that I write a brief ‘Notes on the Cybertanks’ section at the end of this novel. At first I was skeptical, but as I thought about it, I could see the point. Now it’s late at night and I am having big fun with it! Hooray for rule No.4! (ed. note. The editor is only right if they are a good editor. Editing is much more than proofreading- it is looking for plot holes, looking at the story from sideways, and pondering if something cool needs to be left out, or put in. If you can find an editor that you like working with, that’s half the battle! Also, as editor, knowing when to quit beating on a dead horse is important. I may know for certain that adding a love scene between two characters will dramatically improve the book, but if the author cannot be swayed by my arguments, then let it go).
5. Backup your data. In different locations. SYSTEMATICALLY ORGANIZE your backups. Keep multiple versions. Virtually all fiction writers now use computers. As someone who grew up during the dark age of electric typewriters, computers are wonderful. However, files can be lost and corrupted. So backup early. Backup often. Put your text on a USB thumbdrive and lock it in your safe. Etc. Also have multiple versions of your files, because sometimes Microsoft Word will mangle a file and you can’t recover parts of it. Be systematic about your versions: having a thousand randomly named files hanging around and you can’t tell what is what is almost as bad as losing the data entire. I use suffixes “V001”, “V002”, etc., making a new version about every few thousand words, but whatever system you use, be consistent. (ed. note. This is V040 if anyone cares).
6. It is better to be unique than to be blandly competent. If you want to take writing classes and learn the ‘correct’ way to write fiction, knock yourself out. But remember rule No.1: you are not going to be making a living from this. So do what you want. And remember: William Shattner has had a much better career than any number of more technically proficient and interchangeable acting school graduates.
No, I am not saying that writing classes are bad. I might take one someday – it could be fun. But take classes and such only for the intrinsic challenge and enjoyment, NOT because you have dreams of being the next Tom Clancy.
7. Be a craftsman. This might seem to conflict with rule No. 6, but not really. Having a unique (or even ugly) style is one thing, being sloppy is another. Proof your work. Spell check. Grammar check. Have your editor proof it. Have another person proof it. Proof it again. Read it through yourself out loud after some period of time and see if it still has the right rhythm to it. Just because you are an amateur does not mean that you should not exhibit pride in your craft. Have your own style, but don’t be incomprehensible.
Note that I do NOT recommend that you endlessly tinker with the core work. If after two or three drafts you are still rejiggering the main plot or adding and subtracting characters, you are over-thinking it. A work must be finished, so that you can move onto the next (unless of course you want to tinker with the same unfinished piece for the rest of your life - see again rule No. 2). I am mostly talking about finding typos and awkward sentences and repeated words, etc. For most amateurs, getting rid of these takes a lot more effort than you would expect.
8. Obey the rules of your universe. Whatever fictional setting you choose, obey the rules. These rules will be not just physical (faster than light travel is or is not possible etc.), but also psychological, attitudinal, and stylistic.
9. Respect the audience. If you are going to write something and seal it in a vault and never let anyone else see it, this rule does not apply. However, most non-elite writers will want their works read by others. Even if you post it for free, your audience is going to spend valuable time reading it. Respect the ‘energy’ (time+money) that they are investing in your work (I kinda stole this from Frank Herbert), and give back value. This means: no tricking people with really short works masquerading as full-length novels, no killer first chapter preview followed by endless poorly written dreck, no un-proofed copy, etc. No ending the story early and claiming it is “Book 1” making them pay to read the next book when it really should have been in the first one. Even if, for whatever reason, nobody else likes it, don’t let it be because you didn’t do your best.
10. There is no work of fiction that cannot be improved by adding Nazis. “MegaHitler” was an Old Guy adventure published in Perihelion SF Magazine. It was 237.65 % better because it had Nazis and Hitler in it. I’m not sure if the link will still be up by the time you read this (Google “MegaHitler” and “Gawne” – you’ll find it if it’s still there). If not it will be the lead story in the forthcoming “Full Frontal Cybertank” anthology!
11. Keep your day job. You’ll thank me later.
OK, so much for the free advice. On to the cybertanks! Now, as with most non-elite writers, I don’t make outlines or scripts, I just write and let the characters themselves decide what’s going to happen. Some professionals argue for this approach, but I do it simply because making an outline is boring and I’m writing for fun. So the cybertank universe just evolved on its own. Still, I have a few rules for my creation that came out of my long experience reading science fiction.
No Bad Alien Sex. I’ve never much cared for the bad alien sex bit – you know, the throbbing purple genitals, the female humanoid with multiple breasts, e
tc. (I’m not going to name names – you know who you are). (Oh, I make an exception for the one scene in the movie “Galaxy Quest”). I’m no prude, if bad alien sex floats your megaship have fun, but it’s not how my universe works. Characters enjoy each other’s company off camera, and while the cybertanks do have something that might be called sex (see the second chapter of “The Chronicles of Old Guy”), it’s purely mental so that doesn’t count.
Aliens are Alien. One of my great disappointments in science fiction is reading about a really weird alien species, and at the end they are psychologically just like humans in rubber suits, with the same petty jealousies, etc. Granted, it’s hard (impossible?) to write about minds that are so fundamentally different that we can never understand them. Some authors I think succeed: Stanislaw Lem and Gregory Benford come to mind. Myself, I decided that in my universe alien species are essentially unknowable and mostly keep to themselves. That does limit things – I can’t just have the characters go to a planet inhabited by reptilian humanoids with a culture like feudal Japan, and then go to a planet inhabited by avian humanoids with a culture like Native Americans, etc. My aliens are a black silence and have little to do with the main characters. This does mean that I tend to dredge up survivors from the human past (vampires, Space Nazis, old human-class sentient weapons systems, etc.) to provide a variety of human-relatable experiences. Still, it’s my universe and them’s the rules.
Of course, we have no idea what real aliens – if any – are like. Maybe in this universe convergent evolution will result in every species having a fundamentally human psychology. Or they could be truly un-knowable. We won’t know until we meet them. But for now, the cybertank aliens are inscrutable, and I will not have them turn out to be just like us.
Splendid Apocalypse: The Fall of Old Earth (An Old Guy/Cybertank Adventure Book 5) Page 29