Weightless Updates for 07/21/2020

MER: A Pygmalion/RUR mashup with no romance. I think George Bernard Shaw would approve.

F&SF: What inspired you to mix Pygmalion with R.U.R., and how did you bring those pieces together to write this story?

MER: I think it began after having a discussion with one of my daughters about the shared responsibility of teachers to teach and learners to learn. Teaching isn’t just a matter of opening a student’s head and pouring the information in—but that appealingly robotic image may have been what started me thinking about the story. After all, Henry Higgins, egoist that he is, believes that all the effort is his; even the flesh and blood Eliza in Pygmalion is a prop in his experiment, rather than a partner in learning. Henry Higgins does not do partners (Col. Pickering, in the original, and Rossum, in “’Omunculus,” are merely higher-status props in Higgins’ story). So I’ve got Henry Higgins and an automaton, which meant, me being me, that I would have to hook Higgins up with Rossum (a character who doesn’t exist in Câpek’s play). Pygmalion debuted in 1913; R.U.R. in 1920, so I figured my story takes place before Rossum improved his automata and sold the business to the characters in R.U.R. With the two of them—and Eliza—in place, the rest while not precisely easy, was pretty much laid out for me by the structure of GBS’ play.

The other thing that appealed to me was that there is no possibility of a Higgins-Eliza pairing if Eliza is a robot (it’s not that kind of story). I could go back to Shaw’s original material with a clear conscience (I yield to none in my fondness for My Fair Lady, but GBS was adamant that Higgins and Eliza did not wind up together). Since there’s no chance of a Freddie Eynsford-Hill and Eliza romance either (really not that kind of story) that left me free to come up with an ending that also made use of those two redoubtables, Mrs. Higgins and Mrs. Pearce. I have a serious soft spot for tough old broads, no matter how well mannered.

F&SF: Besides the soft spot for tough old broads, is there anything in this story that’s personal for you?

MER: I’m sure there is… I suspect that most women have had the experience of being underestimated and undervalued by a man who saw them as a prop in his story. I would not say this is revenge—I am not the vengeful sort. But I am human, and writing the scene in the theatre where Eliza breaks down—intentionally? Not intentionally?—was very satisfying.

MER: I’m still either glacially slow or fairly rapid—it doesn’t seem to matter what the text is: some pieces just drag me along and some require unearthing. What hasn’t changed is that while I know the emotional destination I’m heading for I often have no idea how I’m going to get there until I look around and Hey! Presto! there I am.

I never used to outline, but these days on most projects I almost always get to a point about two thirds in, where I realize I need at the very least to make notes on what has to happen and in what order. I’m also a lot more comfortable writing what I’d call placeholder text when I cannot nail down the exact phrase or word I want. Making myself crazy trying to nail the mot juste for a first draft is a form of procrastination; better to plough ahead and come back and fix things in the edit, as my recording-engineer partner says. I’m also much more aware of the sensory surroundings of my characters than I was as a younger writer—I think that came, in part, from a work-for-hire gig writing a Marvel novel staring Daredevil, who is blind but whose other senses are heightened. Since I couldn’t describe anything visually, I had to think of what the smells, and textures, and tastes were. It was a great experience.

Oh: and in the very beginning I wrote sitting crosslegged with my typewriter on my knees (it was a Selectric, and weighed the earth). Nowadays I write on a laptop and while I still sit crosslegged, my knees are happier.

MER: A fourth in my Sarah Tolerance alternate-Regency detective series (Point of Honor, Petty Treason, and The Sleeping Partner—all three can be found here), with a fifth beginning to distract me, which is not helpful. Also a fantasy novel set in contemporary San Francisco. And a challenge short story for my writing workshop. Sewing cloth masks for donation. And just at the moment, a loaf of sourdough bread. I am a Covid-cliche.

I have nothing coming out right now (see “glacially slow” above), but I am blogging at Treehousewriters.com, as well as at my own website, madeleinerobins.com.

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Issue 042 Author Interview: Rachel Brittain and “Moonlight Plastics”

Jul 14, 2020 06:08 am

LSQ: At first, Sana thought she was being rescued by a mermaid or a siren. Explain the idea behind Em’s prosthesis.

Rachel: That was actually the inciting image that inspired this story! I don’t know why, but the idea of someone appearing to be a mermaid, but whose existence could be explained by technical rather than magical means, just came to me one day. And I thought the idea of mermaid fin prosthesis seemed really awesome, to be honest. I’m not entirely sure how effective it would be in real life. But I liked the idea of a double amputee sort-of underwater recluse scientist making herself a prosthetic specifically suited to her environment.

LSQ: Talking about scars, Sana said, “It meant your survival was hard fought. Proof of life.” What does this say about Sana as a character? Or the society she lives in?

Rachel: Sana comes from a very corporate, capitalistic world, where the life and health of everyday people aren’t prioritized. It’s given her a survivalist mentality that, in some ways, reflects the society she was raised by—every person for themself. That said, I do think her perspective on scars is an optimistic one. It reflects the reality of her situation, sure—scars happen—but it also lends respect to those scars. Scars show the body’s ability to survive and heal. And for someone like Sana, they also show how hard you’ve had to fight to survive, all the times you’ve been shot down and gotten up again. She probably glamorizes them a little more than is healthy, though.

LSQ: Given the state of today’s oceans, how much of your story is meant to be a cautionary tale?

Rachel: I don’t know if it’s meant to be a cautionary tale so much as a reality, if a somewhat futuristic one. Part of the inspiration behind this story was when I stumbled across information on the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, a particularly polluted area of the Pacific Ocean where warm water currents from the South Pacific and cold water currents from the Arctic converge into this huge field of spinning debris. It’s mostly broken down microplastics that aren’t even visible to the naked eye. So that really does exist today.

I think it’s hard to see the reality of the effects we’ve had on the natural world and not think about where we’re headed. It’s not just up to individuals to make that difference, though. The fact that the corporate bottom-line matters more, in the end, than the choices either of these characters make is really telling.

LSQ: “Moonlight Plastics” is part science-fiction and part spy/thriller. What genre speaks most to you as you write. What was the part of your story that you found most exciting?

Weekly Updates for 07/21/2020

Interview: Madeleine E. Robins on “‘Omunculus”

Jul 15, 2020 01:26 pm

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Issue 042 Author Interview: Rachel Brittain and “Moonlight Plastics”

Jul 14, 2020 06:08 am