Feo Takahari
Auror
It's primarily Alban Lake's way of promoting the stories he publishes, but there's some interesting writing advice in there as well. I found this in the latest issue:
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Here’s one example. A while ago I was schmoozed by a publisher to write a novella about a pulp superhero. Think “The Shadow,” frex. As an alternative, I was allowed to create one, if I wanted. And that’s what I did. I took inspiration from a news article I came across, about a pro bono lawyer in India who was filing to get girls’ names changed. It seems that in various places in India, girl children are given Hindi names that mean “Useless,” and “Unwanted,” to cite just two examples. The lawyer filed a sort of class-action suit to change the girls’ names to something more respectable, and she has had some success with this project.
As soon as I read the article, I had my superhero, a young woman named Nakushi, which means “Unwanted.” She is hardscrabble poor, and lives with her younger sister in a lean-to in a muddy slum of Bombay. She sells herself for food. One night, after receiving literally pennies from a Portuguese sailor for her services, she loses it, and runs out into a thunderstorm and screams to the gods for help. The god of thunder and lightning, Agni, responds by striking her with a bolt. Afterwards, Nakushi discovers that she can transform into a blue superhero named Bombay Sapphire, with fantastic powers, if she but utters a magic word, and she can save people and do good and fight oppression.
But what do I know about India? I’ve read about it, including Piggott’s “History of Prehistoric India,” an otherwise excellent book that does me a lot of good for 1961 Bombay, which is when and where the story takes place. But I didn’t need a book. What I needed was something, or someone, who could help me with some details to lend an air of verisimilitude to the story–to make the setting and characters and plot credible. That’s all I needed.
Tangential thought: what lends an air of verisimilitude? Well, for one thing, correct geography. There are slums in Mumbai, formerly Bombay. I could have chosen one of them for the setting. But this story takes place in 1961. I needed to know what slums there were in Bombay in 1961. In fact, I needed a general overview of the city for 1961.
Why 1961? Because Nakushi, as Bombay Sapphire, is going to work to get the Portuguese out of India, because they are cruel, colonial oppressors. This actually occurred on December 18, 1961. It took a long while for Nehru, the Prime Minister at the time, to act; by 1961, the French and English and Dutch were long gone. Only the Portuguese held onto their enclaves, just like they did in Macao in China. Why did Nehru delay? Uncertain; perhaps he was growing old–he died in 1963, another verisimilitudinous fact. But the story postulates that the activities of Nakushi [no, I won’t spoil the story for you by telling you exactly what she did] forced Nehru to act.
Now, most of this helpful info can be found in varios “pedias,” as well as almanacs, and so forth. Easy.
What’s not so easy, unless you happen to speak Hindi, is to insert a few phrases in Hindi to add a linguistic flavor to the narrative. What’s not so easy, unless you happen to be of India, is to present foods and clothing correctly, and to create characters that are culturally accurate–at least within the confines of artistic license.
The solution is simple: find someone from India. That too is fairly easy. Try Indian restaurants; perhaps a taxi driver of your acquaintance; maybe a student you attend university with; someone in your apartment building; a teacher; someone where you work. Most folks will be more than happy to tell you about their country, especially when you mention that you’re trying to write a story that takes place there. And who knows, you might make a new friend.
No, people aren’t resources [despite what some folks in the Federal Government think]. But the information they have, can be.
[And thank you, Priya Sridhar, for advising me about Bombay Sapphire and helping with the Hindi. And for the record, the publisher has accepted the novella, and it will be out early in 2015].
That’s one example; here’s another. Several years ago I was writing a science fiction story with the somewhat unconventional side-thread of abortion in outer space. [The story is “Fade To Rose,” now a chapter in a novel titled “The Quinx Effect.” Among other topics, the story answers the question of where moons come from]. What I needed was quite simple: the active ingredient in the so-called morning-after pill. I suppose I could have looked it up. But it was so much easier just to ask my pharmacist. [The answer, btw, is mifepristone].
What’s the bottom line here? When you’re writing a story, and plan to be diligent as to detail, sometimes a little face time with a friend is more helpful than an online search. In other words, there’s more than one way to skin a squid.
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I'm a bit sketchy about the story, but I can personally vouch for the advice.
-- -- -- --
Here’s one example. A while ago I was schmoozed by a publisher to write a novella about a pulp superhero. Think “The Shadow,” frex. As an alternative, I was allowed to create one, if I wanted. And that’s what I did. I took inspiration from a news article I came across, about a pro bono lawyer in India who was filing to get girls’ names changed. It seems that in various places in India, girl children are given Hindi names that mean “Useless,” and “Unwanted,” to cite just two examples. The lawyer filed a sort of class-action suit to change the girls’ names to something more respectable, and she has had some success with this project.
As soon as I read the article, I had my superhero, a young woman named Nakushi, which means “Unwanted.” She is hardscrabble poor, and lives with her younger sister in a lean-to in a muddy slum of Bombay. She sells herself for food. One night, after receiving literally pennies from a Portuguese sailor for her services, she loses it, and runs out into a thunderstorm and screams to the gods for help. The god of thunder and lightning, Agni, responds by striking her with a bolt. Afterwards, Nakushi discovers that she can transform into a blue superhero named Bombay Sapphire, with fantastic powers, if she but utters a magic word, and she can save people and do good and fight oppression.
But what do I know about India? I’ve read about it, including Piggott’s “History of Prehistoric India,” an otherwise excellent book that does me a lot of good for 1961 Bombay, which is when and where the story takes place. But I didn’t need a book. What I needed was something, or someone, who could help me with some details to lend an air of verisimilitude to the story–to make the setting and characters and plot credible. That’s all I needed.
Tangential thought: what lends an air of verisimilitude? Well, for one thing, correct geography. There are slums in Mumbai, formerly Bombay. I could have chosen one of them for the setting. But this story takes place in 1961. I needed to know what slums there were in Bombay in 1961. In fact, I needed a general overview of the city for 1961.
Why 1961? Because Nakushi, as Bombay Sapphire, is going to work to get the Portuguese out of India, because they are cruel, colonial oppressors. This actually occurred on December 18, 1961. It took a long while for Nehru, the Prime Minister at the time, to act; by 1961, the French and English and Dutch were long gone. Only the Portuguese held onto their enclaves, just like they did in Macao in China. Why did Nehru delay? Uncertain; perhaps he was growing old–he died in 1963, another verisimilitudinous fact. But the story postulates that the activities of Nakushi [no, I won’t spoil the story for you by telling you exactly what she did] forced Nehru to act.
Now, most of this helpful info can be found in varios “pedias,” as well as almanacs, and so forth. Easy.
What’s not so easy, unless you happen to speak Hindi, is to insert a few phrases in Hindi to add a linguistic flavor to the narrative. What’s not so easy, unless you happen to be of India, is to present foods and clothing correctly, and to create characters that are culturally accurate–at least within the confines of artistic license.
The solution is simple: find someone from India. That too is fairly easy. Try Indian restaurants; perhaps a taxi driver of your acquaintance; maybe a student you attend university with; someone in your apartment building; a teacher; someone where you work. Most folks will be more than happy to tell you about their country, especially when you mention that you’re trying to write a story that takes place there. And who knows, you might make a new friend.
No, people aren’t resources [despite what some folks in the Federal Government think]. But the information they have, can be.
[And thank you, Priya Sridhar, for advising me about Bombay Sapphire and helping with the Hindi. And for the record, the publisher has accepted the novella, and it will be out early in 2015].
That’s one example; here’s another. Several years ago I was writing a science fiction story with the somewhat unconventional side-thread of abortion in outer space. [The story is “Fade To Rose,” now a chapter in a novel titled “The Quinx Effect.” Among other topics, the story answers the question of where moons come from]. What I needed was quite simple: the active ingredient in the so-called morning-after pill. I suppose I could have looked it up. But it was so much easier just to ask my pharmacist. [The answer, btw, is mifepristone].
What’s the bottom line here? When you’re writing a story, and plan to be diligent as to detail, sometimes a little face time with a friend is more helpful than an online search. In other words, there’s more than one way to skin a squid.
-- -- -- --
I'm a bit sketchy about the story, but I can personally vouch for the advice.