Speculative Fiction: The Genre of "What if...?"

by SS Hampton Sr.

“Speculative fiction is an umbrella term encompassing the more fantastical fiction genres, specifically science fiction, fantasy, horror, supernatural fiction, superhero fiction, utopian and dystopian fiction, apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic fiction, and alternate history in literature as well as related static, motion, and virtual arts.” (Speculative Fiction, Wikipedia)

Now that that’s out of the way, everything begins with “What if…?” What if something strange and mysterious found its way into our world? How? Where?

I remembered an article I saw on the Internet about one of the earliest trees—archaeopteris, from the Devonian Era. And, in the 1990s a hiker in Australia discovered a grove of trees whose physical appearance matched prehistoric tree fossils some 200 million years old. The newly discovered trees, proven to be descended from the prehistoric trees, were named Wollemi Pines.

Sooo… Where is this archaeopteris discovered? Some place remote, out of the way. I thought of Minnesota, overrun with lakes and forests, which has some of the oldest rocks in the world. On a map, I saw a mountain range called Mesabi, and thought the name sounded delightfully strange and mysterious. Add to that, the area is also known as the Iron Range. Thus, the Mesabi Iron Range was born. Giving the trees an ordinary nickname, such as Yarmouth Fern, was just yanked out of the air.

Aaand… I’ve lived in Colorado, and always wanted to grow a few Christmas trees.

The character of a crusty old Clint Eastwood-type sitting on the back porch of his home in the Colorado Rockies with an AK-47 across his lap was born. He watches the sun go down, and the valley that contains a branch of his Christmas tree farm is filling with shadows and mist. And he’s staring at a grove of Yarmouth Ferns in the marshy terrain across from his home.

But, I remember reading about fairy trees (ash and oak trees, and hawthorn bushes). Each one reputedly has magical properties, but when all three are found together…

Finally, I have the mysterious ferns, the location, the character, and the idea that where something “prehistoric” and alive, is growing, something else might happen. Maybe something like a doorway opening, especially during a full moon (I’ve always wanted to believe that there’s something magical and mysterious about the full moon).

I open with the sun going down and the old guy sitting on his porch having a beer. He knows there’s something in the Yarmouth grove across from his home. He hears stealthy movements.

Then, flash back to his first hearing of the Yarmouth Ferns, ordering a dozen, and planting them. Add to it the passage of time and (hopefully), a rising tension of something in the valley. His hired help senses something too, and they blame the ferns. The workers report “shadows,” and sometimes see something out of the corner of their eyes. The old guy discovers that the ferns have spread through releasing spores, and small, wild groves have taken root throughout the valley. Add that the weather doesn’t feel right—the clouds are grayer, darker, and the atmosphere is oppressive. Sometimes at night he wakes with a sensation that something is lurking outside his bedroom window. Finally, the workers quit and he’s left alone.

Back to the present. The full moon rises, an ocean of moonlit mist creeps into the valley, and something is moves in the grove. The story ends with gunfire and the old guy screaming in terror.

For me, there have to be enough facts to blend with fiction to create something believable. Add a believable character, and build the suspense—build the suspense—relying on what makes most people nervous, or even fearful—a gut feeling, something in the air, and shadows. Perhaps the most frightening thing of all is the feeling of being in danger, yet you can’t see what’s closing in on you.

My approach isn’t the only way—there are as many successful ways to write speculative fiction as there are writers. As long as you have a goal and map your route to that goal, the details will fill themselves in.

Good luck, and I hope I didn’t bore you too much!

SS Hampton, Sr. is a published photographer and photojournalist, an aspiring painter, and is studying for a degree in anthropology. His writings have appeared as stand-alone stories and in anthologies from MUSA Publishing, (The Lapis Lazuli Throne), Melange Books (Intimate Journeys; R.U.S.H.; Christmas Collectibles 2010; and Hearts of Tomorrow), Ravenous Romance (Back Door Lover), and Dark Opus Press (In Poe’s Shadow), and as stand-alone stories in Horror Bound Magazine, Ruthie’s Club, Lucrezia Magazine, The Harrow, and River Walk Journal, among others. In 2012 he has another story forthcoming in an anthology from Edge SF & Fantasy (Danse Macabre), as well as a stand-alone story releasing from MuseItUp Publishing.

Counting Sunrises

by SS Hampton, Sr.

Ray Bradbury died on 5 June 2012. He was an iconic science fiction and self-proclaimed fantasy writer. I grew up in Kansas reading his stories and, as a result, learned of the many worlds that lay beyond the flat, tornado-prone state. His death is a loss to the literary world, and his loss is a reminder of my own mortality.

I was young when I began brooding about death, my own in particular. In that respect I preceded the Gothic culture and its’ death-obsessed kids that became popular 10-20 years later. Now, in my late fifties, I find myself brooding about it once again.

If memory serves me correctly, I think Captain Jean Luc Picard said it far more eloquently than I could have ever dreamed of (ahem, yes, I know he’s not a real person): “There are far more sunrises behind me, than before me.”

During those angst-filled days on the Kansas prairies, I read an article about Vincent Price, the classic horror actor of the 60’s. You know, The Fall of the House of Usher(1960), The Pit and the Pendulum (1961), The Mask of the Red Death (1964), and other horror movies of a similar vein. It seems he was an art collector, gourmet cook, writer, and when Sears & Roebuck wanted to offer fine art reproductions for the average homeowner, they asked Mr. Price to choose the art. It was reported that even a museum or library asked him for all of his personal papers so that future historians could access his history and thoughts.

I was stunned by reading of such a request. Imagine—historians going over your personal correspondence to and from family, friends, even editors and publishers; reading your notes, perhaps even charting the evolution of a story from first notes, first draft, second draft, and then, a final manuscript. For someone to receive such a request seemed, to me, to never be forgotten. Never disappear from history. The idea was almost like...immortality.

Fast forward…

I kept writing, I even started seeing success—no Pulitzer Prize in Literature, or multi-million dollar contract yet, but one can always hope. In 2004 I joined the Army National Guard, was mobilized for active duty, and after almost two years stateside, I and many other Cavalry Soldiers volunteered for deployment. Suddenly, pre-deployment training was finished. We were headed for Kuwait, though the mission would take many Soldiers into Iraq every day, where insurgents waited with AK-47s, RPGs, and IEDs.

Again, my sense of mortality became somewhat acute.

I made sure I packed all of my writing folders, books, magazines, and personal papers. Each folder contained story drafts and final manuscripts, research material for that particular story, and e-mails between myself and the website or e-magazine that published the story. I wrote the museum that serves my tribe, for I am a Native American and explained where I was going. Though the possibility might be slight, I asked if they would accept my writings and personal papers, “just in case.”

The museum said “yes.” It was with a sense of relief and a smile that, during our brief leave before deployment, I set off on my “farewell tour” to visit my children, my grandchildren, and my mother and step-father—just, in case.

Fortunately, there was no “just in case.”

So, once more I am reminded of my own mortality due to the passing of someone I never met, but whom I admired and respected.

But, no matter how many sunrises remain before me, I know that when I cross over, somewhere in this world my name will remain. Maybe there won’t be many people beyond family and friends who will remember me, but my name is out there on e-books and e-stories waiting to be downloaded by someone, someday. And maybe someday, a person may pluck a thick writing folder from a special collections shelf, and wonder what the first draft of a story looked like compared to the final manuscript. They might even think, “Who the hell was SS Hampton, Sr.?”

Gee. If that ever happens it’s almost like…immortality.

SS Hampton, Sr. is a full-blood Choctaw of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma, a divorced grandfather to 13, and a veteran of Operations Noble Eagle (2004-2006) and Iraqi Freedom (2006-2007). He continues to serve in the Army National Guard, where he holds the rank of staff sergeant.

Hampton is also a published photographer and photojournalist, an aspiring painter, and is studying for a degree in anthropology. His writings have appeared as stand-alone stories and in anthologies from MUSA Publishing, (The Lapis Lazuli Throne), Melange Books (Intimate Journeys; R.U.S.H.; Christmas Collectibles 2010; and Hearts of Tomorrow), Ravenous Romance (Back Door Lover), and Dark Opus Press (In Poe’s Shadow), and as stand-alone stories in Horror Bound Magazine, Ruthie’s Club, Lucrezia Magazine, The Harrow, and River Walk Journal, among others. In 2012 he has another story forthcoming in an anthology from Edge SF & Fantasy (Danse Macabre), as well as a stand-alone story releasing from MuseItUp Publishing.

See It Before You Write It, Then Get Busy Daydreaming

by Robert Lowell Russell

Every writer has his or her own way of starting a story, so with the caveat that what works for me isn't going to work for everyone, here's how I do it (fair warning, I'm a "pantser").

My stories usually start with a single visual scene in my head, and when I have the scene fixed in my mind, I add a second scene. My job then becomes making sense of the two scenes. It may seem easy to get characters to go from point A to point B, but I often have no idea who my characters are at this stage, and there may be no obvious connections between points A and B.

There are probably certain advantages to starting with characters, then building a world around them. But I like building my world first, then plunking the characters into it and letting them fend for themselves. I also think starting with visual scenes makes it easier to "show" rather than "tell."

With Path of Stones **spoiler alert**, I deconstructed Hansel and Gretel. I started by visualizing a trail of white stones running through a fairy tale forest, then added a scene of a man sitting in a bar, staring at one of the stones in his hand. The challenge was then explaining how the man fit into a story about a couple of kids, and how I got from a fairy tale world to a modern day setting. It was an interesting process. The story started at 1.6K words, ballooned to 6K, was pared to 4K, and was finally condensed to 3K. During the rewriting process, I lost the original bar scene, the Empire State Building, Charles Darwin, Annie Oakley, a sexy witch, and bunch of other stuff.

One advantage of the "plotter" style may be that a writer doesn't end up with as many unusable parts when he or she is finished with a story (Though I tend to recycle my best story fragments. Sexy witches = writing gold!). But I like getting messy, and I like getting weird. My two starting scenes usually serve as corner pieces of an elaborate jigsaw puzzle, and with those scenes in my head, I daydream about my story, twisting and turning the middle pieces, deciding what fits and what doesn't. This lets me "work" even when I'm not sitting with an outline in front of a computer, and I've learned to trust my instincts when I write.

However, if you're going to write this way, you need to be able to track a lot of things in your head simultaneously, and make sure you have solid critics reviewing what you write. Our brains work to fill in the gaps of what we perceive, so you need more than one set of eyes to spot the inevitable gaps.

Some final words of advice: bang it out, polish it, fire it off, then cross your fingers. And if you're not having fun, you're probably doing it wrong.

Robert Lowell Russell once aspired to become a history professor, but found working with the real world too constraining. His works in progress, a series of short stories and a novel, incorporate elements of his previous research in Native American history and culture.

For links to more of Rob's stories (or to see him dressed like a ninja) visit his blog.