What if I call it a spaceship and alien science-fiction-action-adventure-thriller with a touch of erotica (not overdone, but what’s there is bloody good), right? Hmmm. Okay.
Science fiction on its own sounds so dry, doesn’t it? An awful lot of people tell me they really liked my book, The Khekarian Threat, even though it’s not their genre of choice. Friends, family members, even complete strangers have told me this. Hey, some got the follow up, The King’s Sacrifice, so I’m doing something write – oops, right – as an author.
I understand people who aren’t attracted to science fiction. I really do. I got into science fiction because I had such a bad time with it as a kid. I hated it. I’ve written elsewhere that whenever I read a book I didn’t enjoy, or saw a movie I thought could be better, I’d rework it in my mind to be the way I wanted it to be. I did that a lot, usually as I drifted off to sleep or when I sat in a boring class (occasionally both at the same time). Most of all I did that with science fiction. That’s how I became a writer.
I wanted science fiction but I didn’t like it because usually it did not give me what I thought science fiction should be. I wanted it to be about people. I wanted it to be about living in space or on new and alien worlds. I wanted it to be exciting and full of exotic challenges. I wanted to feel as though I was there!
I did find books like that occasionally, and what bliss they were, but for the most part, when I was a kid, science fiction was about politics (usually oppressive) in the future on Earth – as though any kind of future made it “science fiction”. It didn’t. Ten years – or fifty – in the future does not a science fiction make, at least not if you’re still stuck on planet Earth. This is my view, of course, yours may differ. For me, it had to be hundreds of years to qualify. I wanted space travel to be normal. I wanted colonization to be in place, albeit to different degrees, each pioneering town with its own rules and laws (not necessarily nasty, not necessarily nice). What I got, though, was a bunch of grey and dreary people I didn’t even get to meet properly, let alone care about, and they had nothing to do with spaceships or aliens.
What I wanted, I now write. Colonization in place, rules and laws varying according to location and character of the founders, action and adventure, a bit of thrill, human needs and human striving. In other words, life.
Sex, too, you bet, and properly done – not some halfhearted grope then call it satisfaction. No. Nor am I talking about the small scenes along the way, I’m talking about the big scene, the one that runs for 30 pages (allowing for a bit of plot running through it, but hey, you won’t notice). After reading that, you’ll need a cold shower afterwards, or a partner – whatever – but I digress.
Ahem. What was I saying? Oh yes. More importantly, perhaps, I write about people full of character, people you can care about, all different, all realistic, people with a sense of fun and adventure. Aliens, too, but not too outlandish. I follow scientific outlines for the evolution of tool-using hunting animals that fill the same niche on their worlds that we do on ours. I do, however, make some important changes to make these people stand apart…
Hang on a sec – you’re not listening now, are you, you’re back a few lines, wondering if my writing is so damn hot. 30 pages, huh? Yes. Not a typo.
Okay, okay, well, you know where it’s at, you’ll have to check it out for yourself.