The Comfort of Old Friends

Taking a break from writing the other night, I looked over to my bookshelf and a book called out to me. Wondering what it had to say, I went over, picked it up, and ten minutes later I found myself deep in an adventure whose outcome I knew very well.

I had read “Plan B”, by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller, many times previously, so why did I pick it up? Why read it again? Back in the late 1980s-early 1990s, I worked on the DEWLine (Distant Early Warning Line), a chain of radar stations across the north of Alaska, Canada, and across Greenland, built to give warning of Soviet bombers coming over the pole to attack North America. A friend and co-worker, Keith, mentioned that he didn’t re-read books or re-watch movies. He didn’t seem to understand why I did, and I didn’t understand why he didn’t.

Each Canadian DEWLine Station had a library of sorts. Each month, each station would get ten new books. They’d usually consist of a non-fiction, a couple of best sellers, a couple of genre fiction books, and a few Romance books.

Why we ended up with so many Romance books, I don’t know. At any given time there were approximately 400 people on the 21 Canadaian DEWLine stations, and maybe seven or eight were women, and those mostly at one of the four Main Sites, not at the 17 Auxiliary Sites (10-14 man stations). One day I opened the box and found a copy of “How to Meet and Marry the Man of Your Choice”. I later discovered it at another station as well, so I had visions of that same book arriving at all 21 stations, and the guys standing around wondering why HQ would think this was a good idea. Being a voracious reader at the time, and deciding that knowing how ‘the other side’ thought, what tactics they might use, could bring me advantage, I read the damn thing, anyway. But I digress.

At one station, I picked up a copy of “Carpe Diem” by the above mentioned Sharon Lee and Steve Miller, and I fell in love with the characters, their tribulations, and their Universe. The next time I went South (going South meant holidays or ‘leave’ to Dewliners), I searched for and found “Agent of Change” the book that came before “Carpe Diem”, and I continued looking for several years before I found their 3rd book. I re-read those two books several times – as I tend to do – while working in the north.

If an author does it well, characters become like old friends, which makes the books old friends, too. And old friends tell each other stories – often over and over again through the years. Those on the receiving end usually listen politely, as if they had not heard of that particular incident a dozen or more times previously. That’s one of the duties of friendship. It’s all well and good if the storyteller has talent, and can draw you in, make you feel you were actually there; it’s something quite different if this is not the case. Then, you can tell the depth of that friendship. Lee & Miller have talent. As I mentioned in a previous post, stories give our lives meaning, give us a sense of progression, not just a feeling of random reactions to a series of random events. I could relate to the meaning in the lives of Val Con and Miri. They became my friends.

Someone, whose name escapes me at present, when asked why he was friends with another person, replied, “He listens to my stories.” Paraphrased, one could say, “He acknowledges that my life has meaning,” and that's a rare and wondrous gift.

Reading a new book, a new story, brings excitement, the wonder of a new world, the thrill of the unknown unfolding before one. Re-reading a book brings the comfort of the familiar, the satisfaction of living once more in a world you know well. It also allows more time for thought, and one sometimes peels away another layer of the onion that the author has presented. And then the jewel shines once more. And now, I think I understand Keith better. He desired the thrill of the unknown. I’ve not heard of or from him in over twenty years. I wonder if he has changed in this regard. I wonder if he now likes comfort as well as thrill.

So, I picked up “Plan B” for comfort, and perhaps to see if my life experience since the last time I picked it up would bring new meaning to some of the nuances of the story. And I wished to see if the jewel would shine again.

I have found that the same thing occurs with the books that I write. I reread them, too, upon occasion – not to compare my craftsmanship then with my more developed skills now, not to look for errors or places that I might have done better, but for the story. As I’m now writing another book in the ‘Courtesan – Pelgraff’ universe, I occasionally need to reference something that happened, and thus turn to the original documents. I have to take care, otherwise I get caught up in that story once again and an hour or more will pass before I get back to the job at hand.

Sometimes I get surprises. “Wow! I wrote that?” But it shouldn’t surprise me; I write the stories that I want to read. They should, therefore, attract me, draw me in, make me want to live again with ‘Mad Dog’ McLean, Mart Britlot, or Karsten and Arialla. They are old friends, comfortable friends. And they still speak to me.

I hope they still speak to others, too. And I hope that people new to my works will begin with the thrill of the unknown, and then progress to the comfort of the familiar for times they wish to once again live with old friends.

Whatever book you read, I wish for you the joy of discovery, and the making of new friends.

D.A. Boulter

For an update on my progress, check the ‘news’ section of this blog.

How We Got Here -- History in SF&F

Today is the twenty-first of May. I bring this up because it is a date that has historical significance – though not precisely to science-fiction or fantasy. On 21 May 1941, the German battleship KMS Bismarck left Norway to begin its ill-fated sortie into the Atlantic. Three days later, on 24 May, she sank the British battlecruiser HMS Hood; three days after that, on 27 May, the British sank the Bismarck.

In 1960, the film “Sink the Bismarck” came out, followed by the song of the same title by Johnny Horton. A few years later, as a young boy, I saw the film and became intrigued by naval warfare. I’d also heard the song many times.

The early 1960s were only 20-something years away from the events of 1941, and that history figured quite hugely in the psyche of the time. Hobby stores were filled with model aircraft, ships, and tanks from WWII, war movies mostly depicted that conflict, and one could find a whole raft of books dealing with the subject at the library of even such a small town as I grew up in.

Seventy-three years have now passed since the day Bismarck left Norway. My father, who was a young Canadian soldier stationed in Britain at the time, has passed on, as have the majority of people who remember those times. Living-memory history has become distant, time-shrouded history.

Bismarck started my involvement with the study of other historical periods, and that lasted a good many years. And this involvement has, I believe, stood me in good stead in the writing of SF&F.

SF&F, for the most part, differs from other genres in that its authors have to create whole histories (near-future SF and urban-fantasy stories excepted -- they mostly build on what we already have). When the Prince attempts to retake his rightful throne from the Usurper who killed his father, we have backstory – another name for history. Wherever we start this story – whether from the battle in which the King loses his throne (and life), or from the day the banished Prince begins his trek to retake the throne, or from the day the Prince’s troops start their campaign – the author always has to know the history of the events.

Why did the Usurper want the throne? What did he do in order to take it? How did the Prince survive? Who trained him, set him on his ‘noble path’? Some of this will be important to the story, and thus the author will include it for the reader; some of it won’t have significance, and thus the author will omit it. But the author knows that history. He, or she, created it. It’s How We Got Here.

Many years ago – getting close to twenty, now – I had a “what if” idea. That’s how most stories get their start. What if someone invented a submersible craft? “20000 Leagues Under the Sea”. What if invaders came from Mars? “War of the Worlds”. So, I had this “what if” idea, and it began percolating even as I did other things. At the time, I was busy struggling through a 10-year project that ended up being “Enemy of Korgan” – actually, my original idea for “Korgan” came in 1984 and I didn’t finish the first draft until around 2001, so it’s more of a 17-year project.

One of the things that an author needs to hang a “what if” on is a character. I found that character in a woman named Colleen in 2000. I wrote a short first chapter, and then went no further. I had realized that I needed some history for her. Then another idea, which became “Ghost Fleet”, came up, and I wrote its first draft with blinding speed (in comparison to “Korgan”) finishing in 2 months. But Colleen’s story beckoned, and in March of 2001 I wrote a new first chapter, much better, with my premise more fully formed. 

And that’s where History reared its head. In the middle of Chapter 1, I realized that in order to more fully deal with my saga, I would need a civil war on a planet. The character of “Alan McLean” came to me, basically took over, and wrote “Pelgraff” – a story which would take place after my 1st chapter, but I found so compelling that I couldn’t wait.

Authors do funny things to make their worlds more real. One is to give throwaway lines, mentioning some facet of history, of custom, of … well practically anything, in order to plump up the world. In “Pelgraff”, as Alan McLean sits on an interstellar liner just after the ship’s jump to hyperspace, the Public Address system comes to life, saying “Welcome to the J-Channel”, and telling the passengers they could now move about freely. “What is the ‘J-Channel’? I wondered. As Alan McLean’s persona had taken over my own, he decided to look it up in a reference. The reference told him that the J-Channel had been discovered by Jaswinder Saroya (hence the ‘J’ in j-channel), and how it was a non-linear representation of normal space (i.e. hyperspace). And that was it. Just a throwaway line telling the reader that this universe did, indeed, have a history.

However, as I continued to write “Pelgraff”, I began to wonder who this Jaswinder Saroya was. She began haunting me, asking me to tell her tale. So, in 2002 I did so. A short story named “Courtesan” came into being. This tied Ms Saroya to the same line as Colleen, but 450 years in the past. But, Jaswinder wasn’t through with me. She wanted more than a short story. She kept haunting me. So, to exorcise her, I gave her short story novel treatment. The short story became the first couple of chapters of the novel.

“Courtesan” also suggested how Colleen’s family had become so important; "Not With A Whimper", its sequel, will flesh that out. “Pelgraff” had also mentioned an alien named Korsh, whom I wanted to figure prominently in Colleen’s story. And that led to more ‘history’.

But now – late last year – at long last, I realized that the place to start the saga was with Colleen’s introduction to the spacing Family. Originally, I had intended that she be a descendant of Jaswinder, but then time and circumstance (studying the original premise, and mentally outlining) made it more logical for her to join the family. Going back further in ‘history’ would serve no purpose.

Thus I started plotting once again, the opening scene inspired by a song I’d heard and liked, which related to a poem I’d read and liked. After finishing the first draft of the fantasy novel (somewhat outlined above), I began writing Colleen’s story once more. This time, I have no further doubts as to where it’s going. The history is all behind me. I know How We Got Here.

I’m now over halfway though the first draft – while also working sporadically on the first draft of the sequel to “Courtesan”, and editing the Sword and Sorcery novel loosely outlined above (which still has no title).

Seventy-three years ago today, on May 21st 1941, the German battleship Bismarck began its fateful journey. Six days later, over 4000 men had died, and two mighty, historical ships lay on the ocean floor. Twenty-odd years later, its captivating story awaited a young boy, who began reading history. History, the forming of our lives into stories, has led me to Colleen and her story – as well as the story of her universe. And, having read history, I know that all my characters have their own histories … and I know that history, told properly, compels. I only hope that I’m up to the challenge.

Delivery Guaranteed

Others, much more intelligent than I am, have impressed upon me the need to have some place where people may go to find out about my books, about my progress (or lack thereof). They’ve recommended all sorts of new forums like Facebook, Twitter, etc., forums which I’ve no great interest in learning the intricacies of.

Basically, I’m a storyteller. Basically, we are all storytellers. It starts off very early in life with things like, “Tell me what happened today in school.” And we, in our struggling way to fit words to events, tell a story in fits and starts: “Timmy punched me, and the teacher made him throw his wrapper in the garbage.” Those, of course, are two completely different episodes, taking place at different times and having nothing to do with each other. But in our limited way, with thoughts jumping wildly about in our heads, it makes sense to put them together, no matter the look of confusion on our parents’ faces.

From there we graduate to longer stories, which hold up better under scrutiny. Some of those stories are true, some contain some truths, and others are just plain fiction. “Who broke the lamp?” “The dog. She got all excited to see me when I came home, started jumping up and down, pushed me near the table, and then she bumped the table, knocking over the lamp.” Right. Poor Perky, victim of not speaking English, and thus not being able to defend herself against vile slander.

We tell our lives in stories, striving to make sense out of random events, tying them together in order to get the feeling that we progress down a street, instead of hopping from dimension to dimension in a haphazard fashion. We invent things like Karma, to explain the good or evil that comes upon us. “If only I hadn’t lied about Perky 50 years ago, this wouldn’t be happening to me now.” And who knows, our invention of ‘Karma’ might be a stumbling onto a truth. It may exist. Cause and effect may work in ways we never even dream of. And some author will tell that story, too – because he or she did dream of it.

Ah, dreams. Those nightly visitations of strange and wondrous elements of mixed fiction and truth tell stories, too. And then we come to daydreams, where we consciously create the stories in our heads – how we will captain a pirate ship, a merchant ship, a spaceship. These stories can fill in the boring moments of our life – like arithmetic class. “Doug, Doug. Can you give me the answer?” Oh, oh, she’s caught me. What’s the question? A quick look at the blackboard. Ah. 7 + 3 = ? “Um, ten?” “Thank you, Doug. Next, we …” and back to the daydream of piloting a rocketship. [For more on this, see the wonderful cartoons by Bill Watterson: Calvin & Hobbes. He knew what little boys really think of during class.]

Unfortunately, during classes, the teachers kept interrupting my daydreams, my fantasy worlds. However, whilst on my paper route, I could dream to my heart’s content. While I delivered The Edmonton Journal to the doors of my customers, my mind oftentimes went elsewhere. To the Old West, the Atlantic during WWII, Space, and a dozen other places. I told myself stories.

Now, all grown up – though you might find others who disagree with that notion – I continue the human tradition of telling stories. In this, I’m no different than any other human. But, I’ve undertaken to write some of these stories down. And in this day and age, with electronic publishing, just like the little boy of almost 5 decades ago on his paper route, I (with the help of Amazon, Kobo, Smashwords, and others) continue to deliver to your door (or Kindle, Nook, computer).

I've chosen a Blog for my initial foray into the horrors of Social Media, because I value the telling of stories, and thus it seems an appropriate platform for me. So, drop by this Blog for the news (updates of what works are in progress, where I am on various titles, what I’m doing – in terms of writing), for stories of the past, present and future, and for calls to action: “Please, please, please, buy my book – the cat has nothing to eat.” Well, perhaps it is best to not believe that one. The cat, in his opinion, never has anything to eat – even if his food dish overflows.

So, thanks to those who have given me the final push (Charles, George, and Acheron’s Flow) I now have a blog.

EXTRA! EXTRA! READ ALL ABOUT IT!

And, you can subscribe if you wish: Delivery Guaranteed. (Well, mostly. When I start having flights of the imagination, who knows who will get your copy of the paper.)