by Tess Gerritsen
Those of us who make our living as writers know the basics of storytelling: plot, character, conflict, build-up, crisis, resolution. With those tools in our kit, we can tackle any project. So telling a story that just happens to be set in space should be a piece of cake. Just move your usual characters onto a spacecraft or space station, pit them against an antagonist, and churn out your story. Easy, right?
Those of us who make our living as writers know the basics of storytelling: plot, character, conflict, build-up, crisis, resolution. With those tools in our kit, we can tackle any project. So telling a story that just happens to be set in space should be a piece of cake. Just move your usual characters onto a spacecraft or space station, pit them against an antagonist, and churn out your story. Easy, right?
Well, maybe if you’re writing a space
opera in which real science and technology
takes a back seat. In space opera, a
writer’s only limit is his imagination.
Space stations with artificial gravity?
No problem. Spacecraft that travel at warp speed?
No problem.
Transporters and
death rays? Old hat. Readers aren’t going to question the technology because
they understand it’s all speculative. Readers are willing to
suspend disbelief and accept that the Starship Enterprise and the Millennium
Falcon are possible because they understand that technology isn’t the point.
The story is, and any writer can tell a story.
But what if you are writing a space
story set in the present or near future, a story told within the confines of
real science, and your story is about the technology? That
challenge requires far more than just a writer’s imagination; it requires a
working knowledge of what’s possible and what’s not. Suddenly you’re not just
writing a story — you’re also writing about, and translating, science. This is
something you don’t pick up by just surfing the internet. It requires months,
if not years, of specific research. Even with my advanced degree in science,
the prospect was more than just daunting — it was frightening.
But that was precisely my challenge a
decade and a half ago, when I wrote my book GRAVITY. In a 1999 interview with
Barnes and Noble, I described how I approached the research. Here’s an excerpt
from that interview:
Barnes & Noble.com: Tess,
thanks for taking the time to share with us some of your thoughts and
experiences with regard to your latest thriller, Gravity. The concept you’ve
created here is both fascinating and horrifying and utilizes science from the
fields of molecular biology, virology, medical technology, space exploration,
and marine biology, to name a few. It appears you’ve done a great deal of
homework researching both the facts and the possibilities. Without giving away
the true horror behind the menace in Gravity, can you speculate on just how
feasible the scenario you created might be in real life?
Tess Gerritsen: When I wrote Gravity,
my No. 1 goal was to create a scenario that was completely plausible. With that
in mind, I made certain that everything that goes wrong aboard the space
station actually could go wrong in real life, from the escape of the organism
into the space station’s air to the series of disasters that befall the station
and later the orbiter, to the political crisis that envelops NASA as a result…
The details about NASA, the shuttle,
and the space station were all based on months of research and conversations
with NASA sources. The space station in Gravity is based on the blueprints of
the actual International Space Station, which is now being launched in
increments. The details about environmental control, orbital docking,
commercial rockets, EVA’s are all based on fact. The book has since been read
by a NASA engineer and a flight surgeon, and both of them have told me how
amazed they are that I managed to get it right. As the engineer said about my
scenes in Mission Control, “I’ve been there, done that, and that’s how it is!”
bn.com: It’s certainly effective!
You’ve combined some very graphic horror — such as dead bodies, blood and guts,
and a few hair-raising descriptions of some pretty nasty ways to die — with
cerebral horrors like the anticipation of certain death, isolation, loneliness,
helplessness, and fighting an enemy one can neither see nor understand. So what
scares Tess Gerritsen?
TG: Airplanes! Heights! I’m definitely
a land-based humanoid.
bn.com: Several of the characters in
Gravity have had a lifelong dream of becoming an astronaut and traveling the
stars. Would you go to space if you were given the chance?
TG: Okay, I confess. Despite my fear
of heights, I wanted to be an astronaut! I think most of us have had that
dream, especially those of us who spent many happy hours as children watching
Star Trek… I can also say that the risks would make me think long and hard
about it. Space is not a place for amateurs and certainly not a place for
starry-eyed novelists. It takes training and skills to be an astronaut. To say
that anyone can just strap himself or herself in and lift off is like saying
anyone can perform brain surgery in ten easy lessons. Space travel, as it now
exists, is a job for professionals.
bn.com: By placing a lot of your
action on a space station where help and rescue are days away, escape is
impossible, and the lack of gravity adds a new layer of terror to some of the
more graphic scenes, you add a whole new dimension to the “ordinary” horrors of
medicine and science run amok. Where did you get the idea to combine all these
elements?
TG: I’ve always been fascinated by the
space program. I vividly recall hearing the broadcast of Neil Armstrong taking
his first steps on the moon, and even now, just thinking about that moment can
still bring tears to my eyes. Then, about two years ago, I was traveling in
Europe when I heard news about the collision between Progress and Mir. I
remember thinking: Three men are about to die up there. And it occurred to me
that that must be the ultimate horror, to be facing the prospect of your own
death, trapped in space, while the whole world can follow the final moments of
your life. With more research came more elements of horror: What is it like to
die of explosive decompression? How do you deal with a medical emergency in
weightlessness? What happens to blood as it pours out of an exsanguinating body
in a space station? Earthbound horrors are magnified in the hostile environment
of space.
bn.com: They certainly are! Your
descriptions of the way things behave in a weightless environment (some of them
things we wouldn’t want to encounter in any environment!) were very vivid and
often quite spooky. What sort of research did you do to create those scenes?
TG: I read everything there was to
read about life in microgravity. I read astronauts’ accounts, NASA reports,
space medicine textbooks. I combed research publications about microbial and
tissue culture behavior in space. I spoke to flight surgeons about emergency
medicine in orbit. After a while, I actually began to dream about
weightlessness (those were amazing dreams, too!), and when writing a scene that
takes place aboard the station, it became second nature to me to envision
everything without gravity. After I finished the book, it took months for those
dreams of weightlessness to go away.
bn.com: Obviously there was a lot of
hard work and lengthy research that went into the writing of this book. What
parts of the writing process were the most fun? And which parts were the most
drudgery?
TG: The research for Gravity was
absolutely the most fun part of creating the story. Since I have such a deep
interest in the space program, digging into the details of NASA was like
playtime for me. Getting the inside tour of Mission Control, having the chance
to talk to people at Johnson Space Center — these are the sorts of experiences
that remind me how lucky I am to be a writer!
For those of you who are interested in
science-y novels like GRAVITY, I can recommend a particularly fun book that
recently came out: THE MARTIAN, by Andy Weir. While it is speculative (it’s set
in the future, when we have manned missions to Mars) and it proposes certain
technological advances, all those advances are theoretically possible, and the
research that went into Weir’s storytelling shines through on every page.
Hard core science fiction fans may be the toughest to write for. If you read classic novels like The Forever War, the issue of space travel and Einsten's theory of relativity are taken very seriously. My bit of physics that was required for my engineering degree is enough to spot major flaws in some scifi, though I still enjoy them. I do plan on writing my own scifi series after my current YA series. For that, I read as much fiction and non-fiction as I can. Subjects like astrophysics rarely make it to the writer's conference, but they're necessary if you want to avoid major blunders.
ReplyDeleteI love Shane Johnson's astronaut book "Ice," based on Apollo 18, which of course, never flew. His scenario for the antediluvian era is so fascinating.
ReplyDeleteI regret never being in Florida during a shuttle launch. Having an insider view of the space centers would have been a joy.
What a great post and what great information. If nothing else, it reveals just how important research is and how in-depth it can be.
ReplyDeleteThe most frightening stories are those that are just outside the bounds of current reality, but that have a sound bases in current reality. One or two steps more, and real life has stepped into the story world.
It's even more frightening when I think of all the "science fiction" in the original Star Trek series that is now actuality. Cell phones, anyone? Flat screen TVs?
Thanks for sharing the 1999 interview, too. That was inspiring all by itself.
Best wishes,
Carrie