Author Archives: mary

The Semi-True Story

I gave a copy of Fossil Lake:  An Anthology of the Aberrant to my parents with a proviso attached:  it’s not autobiographical.

fossilThe assumption would be easy enough to make.  My contribution to Fossil Lake, the short story “Mishipishu:  The Ghost Story of Penny Jaye Prufrock,” is set at a summer camp for kids.  The name of the camp in the story, Camp Zaagaigan (the Algonquin word for “lake”) is fictional; so is Lake Mishipishu (I actually checked on the maps and found a Mishibishu Lake…)  My parents, however, would be able to name the real camp and the real lake after they read the story:  from the cabin line to that infamous H-dock, the layout of Camp Zaagaigan mirrors its real-world counterpart, and they drove me there often enough to recognize it.

From there it’s just one step further to wondering how much more of the story is real.

I’m often asked whether the characters in my story are “me,” or whether the events are “real,” and all I can ever say is that I write semi-true stories.  Semi-true in that I’ve never been able to take a person, event, or revelation and transcribe it into fiction word-for-word.  As a writer friend of mine says, real life doesn’t have to make sense, but fiction does.  Even if I’m starting with something “inspired by a true story,” in order to make event or character coherent, I have to add things here, or take things away that might have happened in real life, but don’t add anything useful to the tale I’m telling.  Sometimes changes to the story make it more dramatic, more compelling, or more satisfying; and so the events “inspired by a true story” move ever farther away from a faithful reflection of reality.  After all, I’m writing fiction—I’m not required to report on reality.  I’m required to tell an engaging and powerful tale.

And semi-true in that I do my best to write characters who feel real:  who behave in realistic ways, who are recognizable and relatable, who are emotionally honest.  When I write them, I put myself in their position and see the world through their eyes; and yes, to an extent, I feel what they feel, and try to express that emotion in the words I’m writing.  Often this emotional connection is informed by my own real-world experiences.  I do know what being bullied feels like.  I do know what doing something I know is against the rules feels like.  I don’t know what it feels like to drown, but I do know what it feels like to not be able to breathe, so I write about that…and imagine one step farther, based on research and my own ideas.  These characters aren’t me, but they have pieces of my emotions inside them.

So no, I was never bullied at that summer camp you sent me to,  Mom and Dad.  No, I never snuck out of the cabin after hours.  No, I was never a suicidal twelve-year-old, and no, I’ve never lost sight of the line between reality and imagination.

…or at least, I’ve always found it again in time.

About Mary: 

Mary Pletsch is a glider pilot, toy collector and graduate of the University of Huron College, the Royal Military College of Canada and Dalhousie University. She is the author of several previously published short stories in a variety of genres, including science fiction, steampunk, fantasy and horror. She currently lives in New Brunswick with Dylan Blacquiere and their four cats.

“I Need Protection from the Things In My Head”

Jimmy Buffett sang “I need protection from the things in my head” in his song “Vampires, Mummies and the Holy Ghost.”  In the song, the character’s imagination proves to be far more frightening than any real-life horrors–even the murderer who lived on the character’s block!

downloadThe key to writing a great horror story isn’t buckets of gore or even necessarily a creepy new monster.  It’s the ability to make the reader’s imagination your ally.

Few things are as terrifying as the unknown.  When you leave gaps in your story for the reader’s imagination to fill in, they will almost always imagine something far creepier than you could describe, unless your phobias and reactions are identical to theirs.  Over-familiarity breeds contempt, taking horror into camp.  Sometimes this takes place because a description is too detailed, too unbelievable, and crosses the line between spooky and silly.

Use suggestion.  Hint, rather than stating outright.  Make your readers and your characters consider multiple possibilities.  Which ones are true–if any?  What if it’s something else entirely?  Build suspense by describing sounds, shadows, scents, movements, and leave readers and characters wondering for a while what is causing them.  Maybe it’s nothing.  This time.

By leaving spaces like these for your readers to use their own imaginations to “fill in the gaps,” you’ll not only have readers flipping ahead to see if they were right, or to find out what happens to your characters–you’ll also give them the opportunity to project their own worst fears into those spaces, to imagine their greatest terror, or to struggle to conceive of a horror so great it defies description.

We all know what a vampire is, and a werewolf, and a zombie…these monsters are hard sells in certain markets, now, because they’ve been used so often and become so familiar to the general public that it’s a lot more challenging to make them fresh and scary.  We’ve all seen movies where the “monster” is obviously a person in a suit, and instead of screaming, we laugh.  Or when the topic of shapeshifters turns to were-bunnies and were-deer, we giggle.

Except.  fossil

Imagine the anxiety, the constant panic attacks, seizing you out of nowhere and causing your skin to twitch.  You can feel the claws under your fingernails, the stretch in your tendons.  You can smell your great-aunt cooking a pie that reeks to you of corpses.  You are prey, constantly, and you can never relax, never calm down, even though you know that the mere act of being picked up off your feet can be enough to kill you.  To keep it together, you chew.  Constantly.  It helps.  A little.

…I think being a rabbit would be terrifying.

Again, your reader’s imagination is your ally.  If your readers can identify with your characters, see through their eyes, feel what they feel, then suddenly were-bunnies aren’t humorous at all, not next to the horror of constant panic attacks and the feeling of being an animal underneath your skin…a skin that threatens to shed itself without warning….

Buckets of gore and gruesome-looking beasties will never be as frightening as wondering what it might be like if something scary happened to you.  Wondering what might be lurking out there in the dark, or worse, what might be lurking inside your own skull, waiting for some unknowable cue to activate and change your life forever.  What could be the cause?  And what might happen to you next?

You don’t know.  You have to imagine.  And often, the things your own mind comes up with are the scariest things of all.

About Mary: 

Mary Pletsch is a glider pilot, toy collector and graduate of the University of Huron College, the Royal Military College of Canada and Dalhousie University. She is the author of several previously published short stories in a variety of genres, including science fiction, steampunk, fantasy and horror. She currently lives in New Brunswick with Dylan Blacquiere and their four cats.

Anthologies, Editing, and Wrestling with Gods

T-18-Cover-110x170-100dpi-C8Liana K and Jerome Stueart are the editors of Tesseracts 18:  Wrestling with Gods and the people I have to thank for selecting my story “Burnt Offerings” for publication in the anthology.  I’ve written previously (link) about my contribution, but recently I had a chance to ask a few questions of the editors themselves.  I asked about how editors select stories out of the slush, what an editor’s job is like and what it means to Wrestle with Gods in speculative fiction stories.

 

Of all the possible themes for an anthology, why did you pick religion, faith and speculative fiction?   What do you think speculative fiction can tell us about faith (and perhaps vice versa)?

LK:  The great thing about speculative fiction is that it can create distance between our reality and a fictional one. This allows us to examine things like religion without everyone involved freaking out.

What can it tell us about faith?  I think the book shows it can tell us many things. Too numerous to list here!

JS:  Personal beliefs make great strong characters, and cultural beliefs that may clash with personal beliefs–that’s good prime tension.  Religions ask big questions too— is there more than this life?  Are there others out in the universe?  How did we get here?  What’s our purpose?  Science Fiction asks those same big questions–and their answers are often just as profound and interesting–but I think there’s a special intersection that religion and science fiction has where you can stand and look down both streets.  Spec fiction lets us talk about faith in a very non-confrontational way, too–certainly a more interesting way. We don’t have to get caught up in the trappings of our own faiths and religions here to talk about “belief” and about “faith”.  We don’t have to say Rabbi or cross or bodhisattva–or Judaism, Christianity and Buddhism–but we can use a parable, of sorts, to talk about the ideas behind faith.  Sneak behind our biases and prejudices.  The alternate world allows us to examine faith in a way that doesn’t feel like we’re breaking any vows or betraying any of our gods.

 

Many of our readers at The Fictorians are hopeful authors or new authors.  Could you tell us about your process for choosing which stories you want to select for an anthology such as Wrestling with Gods?  I’m sure those readers would appreciate some advice as they edit their work for submission.  What makes a story “stand out” to you?

LK:  For this anthology, there had to be something about it that felt alive to me. We were really lucky in that there was a lot of overlap in what Jerome and I thought had that indescribable quality.  Many authors haven’t found their unique voice yet, so they copy styles and concepts. That’s great for a spec script, but not for something like this.

In the case of this book, we were also looking for an insider perspective, not some outsiders saying “what a strange people”.

Some stories didn’t get selected just because they didn’t follow the guidelines.  Simple things like word count, or the submission deadline. If you’re a hundred words over, no biggie. If you submit something that’s double the word count, that’s really pushing your luck.

JS:  When I pick up a good story, I am with a great character doing something interesting immediately, absorbed in his or her world, seeing specific things that lead me to a dilemma quickly–usually within the first paragraph, certainly within the first page. Confident, vivid language and a unique character I can know and empathize with quickly are also telltale signs that I can sit back comfortably and go where the author wants me to go.  On the other hand, characters that are not actors in their worlds, who make me have to follow long monologues in their heads, who give me nothing to see, who talk vaguely about their lives, or who drive endlessly while they think—these are stories that I can lay aside. That’s just me.  But every one of the stories in Wrestling With Gods fought for their space and earned it with me.

 

I’ve had readers tell me that they were pleasantly surprised to discover that Wrestling with Gods wasn’t biased for or against religion, or favouring any one faith in particular.  The previous question was about how to make an individual story stronger, so for this question, can you tell our readers more about how you “craft” an anthology–the skill set of being an editor and selecting the right stories from the slush?  It’s something I’ve not yet done.  What do you do to make an anthology the strongest it can possibly be?  

LK:  Well again, we had it easy in that there are so many religions that deserved representation.  And the poetry was so strong!

Once we had our choices, I tried to divide the book into acts, using those poems as breaths. Long stories were separated by shorter ones for pace as well.

We started with the Christian stories because they’d be the most familiar faith to most people. And Mecha-Jesus is just so fun that we thought it was a good introduction, especially since it contained Shintoism as well.  Rob Sawyer’s story then provided a balance, because it’s so haunting at the end.

That was our basic step. That pattern replicates throughout the book. I tried to arrange the stories so that there’s a journey for the reader with a crossover to something greater as the final act.

JS:  Pick good stories first.  I think we both made a pact to do that. I don’t think about “anthology” or “balance” or ANYTHING at the beginning.  I’m in the greatest store on earth and I get to pick up anything I like–and so I choose what I enjoy and what I love first.  (I’ll mark a maybe, or a “come-back-to-it-later”, but sometimes you go with the stories that grab you.)  So, first Pick What You Love.  If I fill an anthology with stories I feel passionate about, then I can defend my choices.  I don’t add in a story for a fictionalized reader in my head who might like paranormal romances…. if I don’t like the story, I don’t feel like I can put it in.

Once you get the sixty or so short stories that are rockin’ this world, then you have to make some tough choices and, if you are working with a brilliant co-editor who is on your wave-length (and I was lucky, very lucky), she will validate your passions and will also help you discern the ones that are good stories but that may not be AS good as others.

Then when you get the 25-30 selections, you balance them in a readable pattern.  I think Liana did a great job of creating for the anthology a reading experience where stories may have opposite effects on you, but have some link next to each other.  Each story and poem was linked to the ones beside them so it would seem, perhaps, that you were deep in a conversation about faith (or about heavy metal tattoo artists, or about space exploration…)

 

Is there anything else you’d like to tell our readers, either about writing in general or Wrestling with Gods in particular?

LK:  Just because a story isn’t good for a particular book doesn’t mean it’s not good. Write to write. If you’re willing to constantly hone your craft, your time will come.

About Wrestling With Gods, obviously I want people to read the book!

JS:  Don’t be shy about dealing with faith or religion in science fiction or fantasy.  I think it leads to some greater character depth.  You design characters with inner tension, right?  Well, there’s no tension like cultural or societal tension rooted in a belief system that the character has either bought into and believes, or has felt abandoned by, or has abandoned.  His/her worldview can emerge from this lost/deeply held belief system—and it is never, never, never a clunky cut-and-paste stereotype of “faith”.  Faith is the amalgam of our experiences and our beliefs together–and we trim our memories of experiences to match our beliefs (Uncle John would never have done that–so I’m not going to think he did) or trim our faiths to match our experiences (Uncle John sold his son to the Traders.  I thought our family had morals.)  Every person is unique; every belief emphasizes a bit more of this and a bit less of this because that worked for me and this didn’t. So cool characters can emerge from turning points and disappointments and miracles in their spiritual journey that is lockstep with their physical journey.  We craft our faiths, just as we are crafted by them.

You can get your own copy of Wrestling with Gods in digital or print format from Amazon or Indigo/Chapters.

Ad Astra and Can Con

As a Canadian, travelling out of the country to attend cons involves a big trip with advance saving and planning, and most years it’s just not affordable for me to travel internationally.  Fortunately, there’s some great cons in Ontario that have offered me some opportunities closer to home.

adastraAd Astra is held in April each year in Toronto.  Can-Con is an autumn convention that’s taking place this year in Ottawa from October 30 – November 1.  It’s my pleasure to be a panelist at Can-Con 2016 and for anyone reading who’s going to be with us in Ottawa this fall, I look forward to seeing you then!

Ad Astra is Toronto’s sci fi and fantasy convention with a focus on authors and other creative professionals.  Can Con, the Conference for Canadian Content in Speculative Arts and Literature, invites writers, editors, and academic professionals in fields that range from physics and astronomy to Renaissance Studies to speak in their areas of expertise.

Both of these conventions are different from the typical Comic-Con in that they put a special focus on writers and creators.  While these cons are still fandom-friendly, their focus isn’t on TV actors, cult film or licensed merchandise.  Both conventions offer a good variety of panels that include how-tos for hopeful authors, advice for new authors, discussion of issues of interest to or affecting the speculative fiction community, book launches, and more.

Since the focus of these conventions isn’t on commerce, I find the dealer’s rooms to be significantly smaller than at conventions such as Ottawa Comic-Con, GAnime, or HalCon.  However, the people who do go to those dealer’s rooms are going to be specifically interested in buying books (as opposed to licensed merchandise).  Getting a table is something I’ll be looking at doing in future when I have full-length novels to sell (right now, my stock consists of anthologies in which I am one of many contributors).

cancon

The last time I was at Ad Astra, I volunteered to sit at the Dragon Moon Press table with copies of When the Hero Comes Home 2, the anthology that published my first professionally-sold story.  Helping out was important to me for several reasons.  Because the publisher had paid for the table, there was no financial cost for me to meet people and help sell books.  I was able to watch and learn from my fellow contributors who’d worked at con tables before.  While I was sitting there, I got to form friendships with my fellow authors.  And as a matter of professionalism, in the future, I know the editors and publishers would rather work with someone who’s ready and willing to lend a hand, rather than someone who prefers to avoid work and responsibility.  It was easy to approach and talk to fans with a shared interest in speculative literature.

The down side of this arrangement was that since it was a specific publisher’s table, we couldn’t use the table to sell books or anthologies by other publishers.  Trying to sneak other books onto a table someone else had paid for would have been extremely disrespectful; we didn’t, and I don’t recommend it to anyone.  One of my fellow authors got around this restriction by volunteering to cover another author’s table while he was at lunch, panels, etc.; in exchange, the other author agreed to host her books at his table.  Another author held a book launch event at a restaurant off-site.  For my part, I talked about the different things I’d written and had a few interested buyers asking to purchase my other anthologies, which I was able to direct them to online.

Ad Astra was a valuable experience for me because I was able to meet my first publisher and editors face-to-face, and also network with my fellow authors.  The writing community is a relatively small one, which can be both to your advantage and your disadvantage.  Advantage, in that this little bit of networking has already opened up some excellent opportunities (more on those later, when I’m at liberty to discuss them!)  Disadvantage, in that news of poor manners and bad behaviour will circulate quickly.  Make sure the reputation that precedes you is a good one.

After only two years people are already beginning to recognize who I am and what I write.  How often do you get to build your professional career and have fun doing it?