Inkican

I have a couple of books on my shelf, collections of short stories that eventually became episodes of the Twilight Zone. Always interesting to see how closely the episodes mirrored original stories, but in a larger sense it makes me aware of my debt to the series. Because of that, I think it’s time to discuss how the Twilight Zone shaped my scifi, and what that means when you see my short stories.

As with Gene Roddenberry, Rod Serling used his television show ‘as a vehicle for social comment, as networks and sponsors who censored controversial material from live dramas were less concerned with seemingly innocuous fantasy and sci-fi stories.’ In his own quietly subversive way, Serling shaped our culture; today we live in the future he helped create.

I think the old school scifi hands were onto something, when their stories poked holes in our emotional bubbles. But there’s something more that they did; it wasn’t until recently that I understood what it was.

The Twilight Zone and other scifi stories made me feel understood. They communicated with me on my level. No low-brow laugh tracks, no prosaic pratfalls, and no stale storytelling. When you watched a TZ episode, you know they were going to talk about something real, make you think, and talk to you like an intelligent human being. Try getting that out of The Big Bang Theory.

Look, I get it. I know that when people are watching television they’re trying to distract themselves from the stresses of life. But don’t forget: the world was a scary place when the Twilight Zone started. The Cold War, the Kennedy Assassination, and Vietnam all happened in the same time frame. Some tried to anaesthetize themselves with The Beverly Hillbillies and Gilligan’s Island, but those shows have aged like milk.

By contrast, the Twlight Zone just gets better with time and here’s why: Serling used those half-hour scifi universe to communicate hope, to appeal to the angels of his viewer’s better natures. Rod Serling, like all great men, was hard at work planting mental trees for the next generations, knowing he would not sit in their shade. Love or hate the show, you can’t deny the faint nobility in those kinds of gestures. Now more than ever, we need people like Rod Serling. We need the people who understand what he was talking about, too.

So that, in a nutshell is how the Twilight Zone shaped my scifi. I really appreciated how those stories made me think, made me feel understood and respected. I carry that tradition forward when I write and I think you see that when you read my stories.

For example, I know the pain of living in a body you feel ashamed of, and I wanted to explore that topic by thinking of how kids in the 2100s would solve that problem. That’s why I wrote ‘Body Issues.’ I’ve had to say good-bye to parents and parent-figures, family and adopted family, many times over the years. The Rocket is how I’ve processed that awful moment, having to say good-bye to someone I love in order to save my life. There are other backstories surround my shorts, but I’ll save those stories for another time.

So if you’re a TZ fan yourself, please know that Serling’s tradition lives on. I see you, I hear you. You aren’t alone. There are many people listening, when you tune into the right frequency.

 

 

Continuing from Monday, I believe very strongly that we need to stop with dystopian science fiction. Like, yesterday. I don’t have the data to prove a direct causal link between dystopian SF and what happened last week. Yet, the parallels between Hitler’s fascination with Old Shatterhands and last week’s rioters dressed as post-apoc NPCs is impossible to ignore. In fact, some have suggested that participants are unwittingly part of an ‘alternate reality game’ – creating a self-sustaining narrative as part of gameplay.

So again – this isn’t about politics – this is about my responsibility as a storyteller. The last twenty years of dystopian fiction may have some responsibility to bear in terms of how people perceive mass insurrections, popular uprisings. Would you, would I, want to be responsible for helping people think it’s okay to put themselves in harm’s way? You already know the answer to that question. Let’s now conclude with some reality checks for what life will be like in a true dystopian scenario:

Everyone You Care About Will be Gone

Stop for a minute and look at this picture on the right. It’s the photo of a German prisoner of war returning to his home town of Frankfurt to discover his house bombed and his family gone. Not evacuated, not homeless, gone. They died in the bombings of Frankfurt. Likely, he thought of his family time and time again as he drove himself to get home safe.

Now, let’s talk about you. Let’s remember that heroes become victims in the blink of an eye. War kills innocent victims far more than enemy combatants. Consider what will probably be waiting for you on the day you, by some miracle of chance, survive this coming dystopia. You’ll probably be injured, suffering from PTSD. Watch those old videos of war victims. Imagine realizing that those bodies aren’t strangers, they’re friends and family.

Imagine coming home to the smoking crater of your home.  Your parents, kids, siblings? They’re all gone, now. If you’re very lucky, you won’t have to see their dead bodies or dig their graves.

But again, let’s say that’s not enough. Maybe you think surviving the end of the world is a good thing, or you plan on prospering in a dystopia. You might be looking forward to being Mad Max or Maxine in the upcoming nitro-fueled wasteland. Well before you get there, sport, let’s keep going. Here’s why all that cool stuff isn’t going to happen to you:

You Will Not Survive the End of the World

Yes, dystopian fiction is ‘escapist fantasy.’ But not because the end of the world is a fantasy. The actual fantasy is that you will escape; that you will survive. You probably won’t, and here’s why.

Think about this: the Soviet Union lost 14% of its population during WWII. Europe lost 22% of its population during the Black Death. COVID has taught us that, even with modern technology, human infrastructure can fall apart fast under the wrong circumstances.

So, reality check: in a real dystopia, you will likely die. Pick a reason: War, from violence, disease, starvation, easily-treatable injuries that become lethal because hospitals don’t exist anymore. Remember that moment in the Postman where the protagonist takes care of his teeth because he remembers people dying of dental infections. It still happens, even in the 21st Century. Let that sink in the next time you decide to skip flossing.

Why I’m Telling You This

Make no mistake, I take no joy in writing any of this. This piece is designed to help explain my thoughts as a writer and human being. I think it’s important to use art to light the way to better places for mankind.

I also decided to say ‘please, stop and think’ to my fellow authors. We can write the most exciting stories, ever. If we’re not using our creative energy to make life better than others, then this may serve as an important inflection point. If we can imagine the end of the world, we can also imagine the start of a better one.

 

 

Like many of you, I’m shocked and horrified by what I saw last week on television. Don’t worry, this isn’t yet-another political treatise – I’m politically neutral. Taking a page from Jon Stewart, I don’t want to present another ‘overwrought speech.’ My job is to make you forget reality for a little while, and that’s what I will continue to do. But considering my storytelling responsibility, last week’s events reiterate what I’ve been saying for a few years now: Stop with the Dystopian Fiction.

Now you can read what I said for yourself, but for the sake of simplicity let’s cover some important reasons why we need to hit the Universal Pause button on Dystopian Fiction:

Dystopia Will Not Be Fun

Let’s be clear: I don’t hang complete or even direct responsibility for last week’s events on dystopian scifi. I love trashy old dystopian movies (Looking at you, Logan’s Run) like anyone else. What I noticed several years ago was a shift in how dystopian SF was being viewed. It stopped being about a future we wanted to avoid, and started treating the end of the world like a sexy Tough Mudder competition.

After watching the news last week, it occurred to me that many of those storming the Capitol were trapped in a roleplay with lethal stakes. They saw themselves as the heroes, here to liberate the oppressed. ‘Starting the revolution’ was exciting: you get to dress up in costumes, shout slogans and take selfies!

In a way, the events last week reminded me how Hitler was inspired by the insanity of Karl May novels. May was a nutcase, but he made a lot of money in the late 1800s by writing ‘Aryanized’ cowboy novels for German readers. Captivated by how May could whitewash the genocidal horrors of the American West, Hitler adopted those concepts and integrated them into his war plans. I’m not kidding, either. He sent 300K copies of May novels to officers near the Eastern front to inspire them, too. I’m sure you know the rest of the story.

Real dystopia isn’t that fun. That’s why dystopian and post-apoc SF can be called ‘escapist fantasy.’ Not because the end of the world is itself a fantasy but because another fantasy is involved. I’ll explain what I mean in a minute. For now, let’s consider what dystopia feels like:

• If you’re poor, people see you as a problem to be removed
• If you get sick or hurt, no one will help you
• Money is valuable, people aren’t
• You’re one of the billions on the bottom the rich guys don’t care about

At this point, viewing dystopia as a fun, entertaining experience says more about you than anything else. The only way you can be entertained by it is by having zero empathy for others’ suffering. But, say that’s not enough for you. Let’s raise the stakes a little …

Part II Publishes on Wednesday …

Know how they say ‘there’s no wrong way to eat a Reeese’s peanut butter cup?” Yeah, when it comes to Star Wars it turns out, there is a wrong way. I’ll explain:

A news article caught my attention last week, but I held off on commenting about it here. At first I thought it was a ‘toxic fan’ issue but I was wrong. Later, I saw another article and everything made sense. When it comes to Star Wars, there’s a wrong way do things. Lucasfilm exec Pablo Hidalgo did Star Wars proved that point. But then our hero Mark “Luke Skywalker Hamill showed us how to ‘Star Wars right.’ Let’s discuss what that means for scifi in general.

The Details

[Spoiler Alert] Luke Skywalker shows up at the end of The Mandalorian Season 2. NGL, I screamed like a little kid when this happened. Other fans, like Youtuber ‘Toos,’ got a little emotional. Online, Lucasfilm exec Pablo Hidalgo was less than sympathetic and an online backlash ensued.

The hero of the story, like the hero of the last episode of Mandalorian Season 2, was Mark Hamill. Rather than publicly siding with Toos or Hidalgo, Hamill simply expressed his appreciation for the fan love of his digital appearance in the show. On Twitter, he had a reaction to the episode that not only encompassed the moment but also his feelings for his relationship with the Star Wars universe itself:

Sometimes the greatest gifts are the most unexpected and something you never realized you wanted until it was given.#ThankYouJonAndDave 🙏 pic.twitter.com/4nNjSvbvIN

— Mark Hamill (@HamillHimself) December 30, 2020

The Takeaway

I’m sure Lucasfilm and Disney had a ‘Monday morning meeting,’ about the whole experience. What it (hopefully) taught them is that Star Wars is much more than a franchise to some people. Is that right? Is that wrong? That’s not for me to say.

What I can say is this: “Know what you’re messing with when you mess with it.” Hidalgo certainly didn’t expect the reaction he got, but if he thought it through a bit maybe he should have. If you can make a career out of loving something, it stands to reason that people have very strong opinions about it. Dropping a verbal hand grenade into the chat, shaming people for acting like it shouldn’t matter after they built their life around how much it matters, was a bad idea. Now, everyone should know it.

Why does this matter?

Now look, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – you can love Star Wars, but remember that Star Wars does not love you. Some people are content with loving something that doesn’t love them back, but that’s their trip. For the rest of us, I want to use this as a teachable moment and here’s what it is:

In the grand scheme of things, I look at the Star Wars universe as a template for whatever happens to my books in the future. I’d love that level of success, but I don’t want it if it comes with snark. I’d hate to think that success would strip me of the wonder and joy of the universes I build. That’s what happened here – P.H. lost sight of the joy and the emotions. This why I’m watching how to ‘do Star Wars right’ when it comes to Mesh or any other project.

After all, you as the reader deserve it.

I get it, BD wants to demonstrate their bot’s physical capabilities. And yet, like other examples of the uncanny valley, I find this adorably terrifying. Like, do we want to go to sleep tonight knowing that when the robots come to kill us, they’ll be able to do a little dance over our graves?

As for me, I see this as the weirdest sequel to ‘Dirty Dancing’ ever. Have a good Tuesday.