What makes SF special … is how advancing technology turns—or may yet turn—the not-yet-real into new possibilities.
Edward M. Lerner can’t remember when he didn’t have an interest in science and science fiction.
An award-winning author of non-fiction, science fiction and techno thrillers, Ed wrote Trope-ing the Light Fantastic: The Science Behind the Fiction to help genre readers better appreciate the underpinnings of hard SF, inspire readers to careers in science or technology, as a useful reference, and as a source of story ideas.
Lyndi: How do you define ‘hard’ science fiction and is it important to know what the term refers to?
Ed: As often as people speak of ‘hard’ science fiction, I’d retire the phrase if I could. Too often readers—and would-be readers turned off by a misinterpretation—take it to mean ‘hard to read.’
Granted, the intent is good, because ‘science fiction’ by itself has become an almost meaningless term. It’s somehow come to encompass fantasy, magic, and horror, as well as science-based storytelling. Just look at the gamut of fare offered by the Sy Fy Channel ….
The ‘hard science fiction’ label came into vogue (in the Forties? Fifties?) to distinguish fiction based on quantitative sciences, such as physics and chemistry, from fiction based on more qualitative sciences, such as biology and sociology—or from fiction altogether indifferent to the real world. Meanwhile, many once softer sciences have become as rigorous as any physics. Biology certainly has—and so, genetic engineering, and so, great biology-based SF.
The modern meaning is any SF whose storytelling stays consistent with what we (think we) understand about how the universe works. About what could be done with that knowledge, or by exploiting plausible extrapolations from that knowledge. Whether hard science or soft.
Lyndi: So, no faster-than-light travel allowed in hard SF?
Ed: That’s more of a maybe. Not everyone is onboard with this, but there’s a second interpretation: that hard SF can also look at the implications if what we know is wrong or incomplete. Lots of SF presumes faster-than-light travel. Often that’s pure handwavium—for example, Star Wars—and so, science fantasy. (And don’t get me started on “the Force.”)
When a wholly speculative technology has rules and constraints enforced throughout the story, that’s the second type of hard SF. Larry Niven’s ‘Known Space’ future history (full disclosure: within that setting, Larry and I collaborated on what grew into the five-book Fleet of Worlds series) is replete with stories and novels reliant upon imagined technologies, from FTL travel to near-indestructible spaceship hulls, to teleportation, all subject to logical rules.
To the second part of your opening question, is familiarity with the term ‘hard science fiction’ important? Absolutely, for selecting—or for those whose tastes run the other way, avoiding— this type of science-based storytelling.
The fiction I write is almost exclusively hard SF—some of each variety I’ve mentioned.
Lyndi: What is one trope you explore in Trope-ing the Light Fantastic: The Science Behind the Fiction and how does understanding its underpinnings help fiction writers?
Ed: Only one of the many? Clearly, faster-than-light (FTL) travel. It’s punnily right there in the title.
But first, a detour. Generally speaking, a trope is figurative language. It can be as simple as a metaphor (“All the world’s a stage”) or a simile (“Gone like the crease in ten-dollar pants”). But a literary trope can be as complex as an entire medieval culture repurposed into a fantasy setting.
If you think of a trope as words used other than literally, then a science-fiction trope—and I think this is my coinage—is science used other than literally. Such as, often, FTL travel. What makes SF special, and is the basis of this book, is how advancing technology turns—or may yet turn—the not-yet-real into new possibilities. With stories to match.
Back to FTL. That part of Trope-ing starts out by looking at why SF authors so often use FTL in their writing. In a word (channelling Douglas Adams and The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy), it’s because space is big. Years-long timeouts in story action don’t always work well.
In the book I review how current tech would take thousands of years to reach even the nearest stars. I survey prospectively faster—but still non-FTL—propulsion technologies. I look at the challenges, mainly biological, of keeping people alive for the years (or generations) of any slower-than-light travel to the stars. Lots of good SF, and Trope-ing gives examples, embraces these complications because, after all, storytelling is mainly about confronting challenge.
Then I get into more speculative science. How time dilation from traveling at near-light speeds makes a trip seemshorter. Whether worms holes exist, and if so, what kind of timesaving shortcuts they might offer. Whether, as string theorists would have it, the universe has dimensions beyond the four of familiar experience, and so a hidden dimension might offer shortcuts. Again, with examples from the genre.
Lyndi: How did you decide which genre examples to use to illustrate your tropes?
Ed: Choosing was hard. I wanted variety: stories short and long, TV series and movies. I didn’t want to use just bestselling authors and blockbuster Hollywood franchises. I did want to include early SF as well as the more modern. If all went according to plan, I achieved the balance.
Lyndi: Your numerous non-fiction articles and Trope-ing explore various scientific topics. Is there a particular area of science that captures your imagination?
Ed: By training, I’m a physicist and computer engineer. I worked in high tech, mainly telecom and aerospace. It’ll surprise no one that I’m partial to those areas. That said, the germ of a new novel or story is often something I decide to learn more about. Writing Small Miracles, a novel of medical nanotechnology, got me deeper into biology and anatomy than any class I ever took.
Lyndi: How do you determine if your novels will be stand-alone books or become a series?
Ed: I’ve never started a story or book intending to start a series. On the other hand, many of my stories end with some ambiguity or hint of future complications. Why? Because life is like that. If the implications of what might come next sufficiently nag at me (or readers do, or a publisher does)? Then I seriously consider a sequel. It’s happened several times.
Lyndi: In Déjà Doomed, your new ‘science fiction edged in darkness’ (new in May 2021), a robot exploring on the Moon discovers a desiccated alien body. Without giving too much away, what concerns arise as a result of this discovery?
Ed: The only thing immediately obvious is that the alien can’t ever have been native to the Moon, or even anywhere in our solar system. By human standards, only incredibly advanced technology could have gotten him here—technology that could convey an insurmountable advantage to whoever can find and master any traces of it. So, the Russian and American teams sent to the area distrust each other—even before the fatal ‘accidents’ begin.
Bio: Edward is a physicist and computer engineer (among other things). After thirty years in industry, working at every level from individual technical contributor to senior vice president, he now writes full-time. Mostly he writes science fiction and techno-thrillers, now and again throwing in a straight science or technology article.
More information about Edward can be found at www.edwardmlerner.com/
