Everything comes around

I've been continuing my trawl through my new copy of the Writers' and Artists' Yearbook this week. And I've had a pleasant surprise, for once.  The number of agents who now say they represent SF authors seems to have grown a great deal.  

I can remember back a decade ago, when I could find only five or six agents to submit to who had any affinity for SF.  'No SF' was a common part of the listing of an otherwise promising agent.  The five or six who did profess an affinity for SF got sent every novel I had - and rejected them all.  I hit a brick wall, with nowhere else to go, and that's when I took a step back from the genre for a few years.

It pained me.  I fell in love with SF in my twenties, and started writing it soon after.  My first attempts were derivative, and definitely not publishable.  But by the time I'd finished novel number twelve I'd learned my craft, found my voice, and knew what I wanted to say.  The trouble was that nobody was interested in what I had to say.

I call that my fallow period, the time when I went on writing, because that's who I am and what I do, but I didn't submit anything for years.  It was a dark time when I found it hard to believe that I'd ever get the chance to be published.

But the wheel has turned again, and SF is back in fashion, but, more excitingly, it's moved on.  Social media has given women SF writers a strong voice.  VIDA has started measuring the under-representation of women in reviews and as reviewers.  That has spurred some editors to come out of the woodwork to say that they value women's voices, but don't get enough submissions from us.

Last year we had the Women in Science Fiction panel in London, which again highlighted the challenges women SF writers face.  I now feel that it's not me, that I'm not alone in this struggle. I have  sisters who are challenging the status quo and calling out the inequality. I have the feeling that we're on  the verge of a step change in the genre, despite, or maybe because of, this year's hiccup in the Hugo nominations.  For the first time for a decade I now have hope that there might be a place for me in the genre, an agent who will be willing to take me on, a publisher willing to print my words.

Wendy Metcalfe is the author of Panthera : Death Spiral and Panthera : Death Song and the short story collection Otherlives.  Find out more at www.wendymetcalfe.com

An end to second -guessing editors

This week I've invested in the 2015 issue of Writers' and Artist's Yearbook.  This weighty tome is essential for trawling through editor and agent listings and trying to find a home for my work.  But the book is also packed with articles offering advice on the world of publishing and the struggle to get published.

One theme leapt out at me from several of the articles.  Rachel Joyce advises 'Take yourself seriously,'. Nathan Filer says 'Take responsibility for your novel. Your opinion counts.'  Neil Gaman says 'write the books you want to write'. Their words have given me a much-needed reminder that I must write what I want to write, what I believe in, and then find an editor who also believes in my vision and wants to publish it.

I've been running up against the rejection barrier again recently, and I seem to be going backwards.  I thought that maybe my feminist stories were turning off male editors, so for my last submission to one of them I switched tack.  I sent him a humorous contemporary faerie/SF mash-up.  And got back a rejection almost by return.

Considering that all the other rejections from him had some words of praise for the story in them, and  this one didn't, I'd guess my idea to stay 'safe' and not to submit controversial stories backfired rather badly.

So I've decided I've had it with second guessing editors.  I've had it with reading published stories that don't have beginnings, middles, and ends, or any narrative drive.  I've had it with studying the market and finding stories where nothing happens.

From now on, I'm writing what I care about.  There'll be no compromises.  And I'll keep throwing my stories at enough editors until I wear one down enough to publish me.  Or I find one on my wavelength who can't wait to take the work of an unknown, feminist, writer.

Wendy Metcalfe is the author of Panthera : Death Spiral and Panthera : Death Song, and the short story collection Otherlives.  Find out more at www.wendymetcalfe.com

Unicorns and lions - recycling old tropes

I've been writing a short story about unicorns this week.  I know they're an old trope, but I hope I'm recycling it in a different way.  For starters, they're miniature horses, about the size of a Labrador dog.  And they have language.  And, most conveniently for my story, they're telepaths.  And even more handily, so is the reporter who befriended them.  

He needs to report on a trade convocation, but his paper's been barred from the proceedings. Cue the attack of the miniature unicorn.  The President is hosting this convocation, and she keeps unicorns as pets.  She never seems to notice how many of them are wandering around the palace, so it's an easy matter for my reporter to get his special friend smuggled in.   Where he will listen to all the conversations and stream them telepathically to my barred reporter.  Problem solved.

Another trope I've recycled in Genehunter is the lion-predator.  My alien Yull is certainly big, powerful, and predatory, but that's not all he is.  His people live in prides like lions, although there are many males in a tribe.  And they elect their leader in a democratic process, not by fighting.  They have written and oral language, and a fair degree of tech too.  And they have two arms and hands in addition to their four legs.  Yull is a complex, intelligent being, with his own problems and challenges.  

And I think that's the key to successfully recycling old tropes.  We usually think of unicorns as fantasy creatures, but my story is firmly SF.  We're on a different world, and the unicorns are natives there.  With Yull, I've retained the lion's pack-hunting way of life on the savannah. I researched lion hunts, and found that they too have their favourite positions.  They have their flankers and the individual who goes in to make the kill.  That was something I could easily adapt for the Ur-Vai.

So although unicorns and talking lions might be old ideas, there are still new ways of using them within a story.  And now I just hope that Villjo survives his fight with the upstart Ur-Vai Ahri.

Wendy Metcalfe is the author of Panthera : Death Spiral and Panthera : Death Song and the short story collection Otherlives.  Find out more at www.wendymetcalfe.com

Choreography, darling - the trouble with fight scenes

This week I've been writing, re-writing, and re-writing a fight scene. I always find them problematical, but I thought this was just me, with my aversion to violence.  But then I stumbled over a blog post from Writeonsisters, and realised fight scenes are a problem for many writers.

Phew, what a relief!  Often when I'm reading other authors' fights I'll consider them over-detailed and far too long.  Part of this is my childlike mind.  Despite having two Masters' degrees and being a qualified Solicitor (lawyer), I still read a bit like a wide-eyed child.  And I very quickly get bored with too much detail and description of a scene.  Which poses a problem for writing fight scenes.  It means I have to force myself to slow down, to choreograph each character's moves, to put in the detail that I normally skip over when reading.

This week's fight scene was also challenging because of the number of characters involved.  I had four baddies, who were holding my heroine hostage.  Then I had three rescuers.  That's eight people to keep track of.  And I didn't want any of my baddies killed.  I wanted them to escape so they could cause trouble in book two.  And I needed to tip the odds in favour of my outnumbered rescuers.

So I had some shots exchanged while the rescuers dive for cover.  When they fire back, two of the renegades run for the exit.  I think I can justify that because they've already been portrayed as losers, and one as a whinger too.  So now I had two renegades, a hostage, and three rescuers.  Better odds.

My alien Yull charges at the hostage-taker and frees Aris, but gets stunned in the process.  The move sends the remaining two renegades running for the exit, leaving Aris on the point of fainting after being throttled, and Yull in a coma induced by the energy blast be took.  That gives me a tense scene where nobody knows if Yull will wake up.

I'm not the only writer to tie myself up in knots about fights.  My friend Eileen Robertson had seven characters in the confrontation scene at the end of her first book.  She worked on it for months, sorting  out problem after problem with the choreography.  Oh, what we writers put ourselves through!

Wendy Metcalfe is the author of Panthera :Death Spiral and Panthera : Death Plain and the short story collection Otherlives.  Find out more at www.wendymetcalfe.com

Making my characters suffer

This week I've been continuing with my rewrite of Genehunter.  I've been leading up to the Supreme Ordeal, where Aris is kidnapped and asked to do something she can't.  In my original version she didn't really come to any harm, and the danger was muted.  She wasn't subject to any violence, and she was rescued too easily.  It was a cop-out, and it was totally devoid of dramatic tension. What was happening to her wasn't even being seen through her eyes.  

This time, I've put the scene into her viewpoint and she is subject to violence, but only a small amount.  They don't hurt her badly, and that's another decision I've made about the scene.  For me, toughening up the story and letting my characters suffer is a balancing act.  I don't do dark and violent.  I'm responsible for the energy I put out into the world, and I don't fill the universe with such things.  The trick is deciding how little violence I can get away with while writing such scenes.

I've read several young adult books recently which have described violence in great detail, violence meted out to the main character on the page.  I've been surprised, and sometimes shocked, by the level of darkness in these books.  I've also read a YA book recently which described the teenage heroine being forced to kill for the first time.  The author has included a lengthy section of the character's reactions to her action, but this still makes the book uncomfortably dark.

The trick is to provide enough danger and challenge to the main character to make what happens to them matter while not alienating the reader.  The stakes need to be high, yes, but I don't need a detailed description of the gruesome death that will await my character if she gets caught by the villain.

I freely admit that I err on the side of being too soft with my characters.  Often I let the violence happen off the page.  My challenge is toughening up enough to make the scene feel realistic versus becoming so dark that it loses my readers.  And I think that getting this balance right is crucial. There is one bestselling YA series I refused to read beyond book one because of the excessive violence at the end of that book.  The right degree of toughness matters.

Wendy Metcalfe is the author of Panthera : Death Spiral and Panthera : Death Song and the short story collection Otherlives.  Find out more at www.wendymetcalfe.com