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We Need More Aspirational Art

/ Logan Sidwell / Leave a comment

Art holds a mirror to society.

Through stories we see aspects of ourselves and the world we live in. The Circle shows us a world where social media becomes ubiquitous and inescapable. The Fifth Season quietly highlights the bubbling fury of institutional oppression and racism. Neuromancer blurs the relationship between people and technology. Every time, these dark stories end in tragedy. A mirror that reflects a dark and cruel world where people in power serve themselves and sacrifice others without a second thought. 

These stories keep us grounded. They keep us connected to how the world really works. 

They’re also a self-fulfilling prophecy. Too many sad stories about an irredeemable world and people start to believe it. In a world with no principles, staying committed to a moral fiber becomes the losing move. We become cynical and jaded. Once a community stops protecting one another and each individual focuses on fending for themselves, it stops being a community.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. A mirror doesn’t have to highlight our worst instincts, it doesn’t have to reflect our darkest selves. It can do the opposite. It can show us our best selves, an aspirational vision of who we wish we were. Stories of idealists like Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, or of a new society like the utopian days of early Star Trek.

We need more aspirational stories.

In 1986, Star Trek: The Voyage Home, transparent aluminum was introduced as a curious futuristic invention. A novelty. But not to the chemists and engineers that watched that movie. Transparent aluminum now exists, a case of life imitating fiction. It’s not the only time this has happened. Mobile phones, tables, and voice controlled computers were all first Star Trek tools before they became our reality.

The opposite is just as true. War of the Worlds told the story of a highly advanced alien invasion involving chemical warfare, lasers, tanks, and aircraft. Fifteen years later, we saw almost all these inventions in WW1. Squid Game told the story of increasingly desperate contestants in a lethal competition, now the competition is a real game show (except for the lethal part).

We underestimate the power of collective thought. A politician achieves their ambitions by convincing enough people something is possible. A stock rises or falls not based on the company’s performance, but its perception. If an expert tells a country they are in decline, it becomes true.

So what happens when the only stories we tell of the future are dark and cynical? Black Mirror stops being a warning and instead becomes a checklist. Every person sees every other person’s action in the worst possible light. Billionaires take notes on dystopian stories and program them into their product. The scientists that grow up on these stories fear the consequences of their inventions.

In 2023, Alexander MacDonald, NASA’s chief economist said about the impact of sci-fi writers. “We don’t go to space because we have the machines. We go to space because we have a culture of people who are inspired to build the machines.”

We need science fiction stories that imagine and inspire, that tell the stories of heroes saving the day and technologies that transform life in the most wonderful of ways. Most importantly, we need sci-fi stories that dream of a bright future.

But this isn’t just a problem with science fiction, it extends into fantasy and thrillers and mystery and every other genre. We keep telling stories about vigilante superheroes in corrupt societies. What about the leaders that shine a light on corruption and fight to make things better? Instead of cynical wheeling and dealing in the west wing, what about an idealist that manages to get a piece of impossible legislation passed because they inspire their peers?

It’s something I’ve been wanting to adjust in my writing. I want to dream of a better world and a better universe. I want to know that the stories I write inspire a materials scientist thirty years from now to invent bendy glass, or bouncy steel, or non-toxic mercury.

We’ve spent a long time critiquing the present. For incremental change, critique is incredibly important. It keeps us moving forward. But it won’t be revolutionary. It won’t reinvent how we live.

The only way for that to happen is for us to change the types of stories we tell ourselves. Fill the world with moral, upstanding heroes by telling stories of moral, upstanding heroes. Advance technology to improve the human experience by telling stories of technology that improves the human experience.

It’s naive. It’s idealistic. But that’s what storytelling is for. For us to one day live in a utopia, we first have to imagine it.

Boost Your Writing Productivity with Pen and Paper

/ Logan Sidwell / Leave a comment

I write every day. 

This is a big improvement for me. In the past, I’d try to write everyday, but the words wouldn’t end up on the page. When I thought about writing, it felt big. Like an overdue errand, or kicking off a workout. Even when I was in my chair staring at the computer, my fingers wouldn’t tap on the keys. It was stressful work, and all that stress wasn’t even producing any words.

Three changes made all the difference. The brain didn’t want to write, so I figured out how to change its mind.

Pen and Paper

I used to prewrite on a computer. I’d sit down, let my mind wander, and type out every idea that came to my head. The funny thing was, I’d end up with three pages of pre-written dialog, plot points, and outline. But the moment I started writing for real, it all went out the window. The thinking I had done hadn’t stuck.

There is something fundamental about scrawling words onto a page. Even with my terrible handwriting, I can feel it in my head. You can’t just think of an idea and tip-tap the words with paper. Your brain has to take an idea, turn it into a few words, and convert that into muscle-movements. As the ink goes on the paper, the idea takes on a bigger meaning. Here’s a study confirming it.

When you sit down to write, start with pen and paper.

Nothing real, nothing committal. Just loose ideas, whatever comes to mind, an outline that keeps your brain thinking. My poor pre-writing pages are a junkyard of random notes, doodles, and aggressively circled sentences.

I’ve always found the first real sentence to be the scariest. It was like I had dragged my brain out of a sunny park, into a theater spotlight, and yelled “Perform!” from offstage. But for some reason, ever since I started using a pen and paper, my mind always finds its mark. 

Scheduled Time

My writing used to be inspired. By which I mean I’d wait until motivation struck, then charge into my writer’s room and ride that initial surge of inspiration for all it was worth. Now I’m writing 100,000 word novels and the artist’s inspiration doesn’t visit so often.

I’d always tell myself I was going to start at the bottom of the hour, then it’d be 3:02pm, and I’d tell myself I’d start at 3:30pm. Around 8pm, I’d be exhausted. Worn out by the stress of needing to write, and the reality that the writing wasn’t happening.

Then I put a meeting on my phone. Writing: 12:00pm-2:00pm. 

And I showed up.

My phone buzzes a half hour before. As soon as I see it, I finish lunch, do a last check for texts, plug the device in downstairs, and sit down in my writer’s room. On rough days, I even lock the door. The lock isn’t to keep people out, it’s more of a symbolic commitment to being in the writer’s space for the afternoon.

Writing is an open-ended task. A nebulous thing that half-fills your entire schedule. You can start at any time, even late at night if you feel so inclined. It’s like the cable repairman telling you he’ll be there between 8am and 6pm. Technically the day isn’t full, but you sure can’t do anything else.

Do yourself a favor and turn your writing into a meeting. Here’s a few ground rules: It’s okay to be late to a meeting from time to time. It’s okay to be early. Sometimes you sneak in a snack. But the important thing is that you are present and committed for the majority of the time block. Nobody likes a no-show.

And try not to reschedule your writing day-of. It’s easy to let other tasks push your writing around. To feel like it can happen later in the day, or that it isn’t a priority. Scheduling that time out is a statement to yourself. Your writing matters, and that two hour block belongs to you.

In my experience, turning that nebulous cloud of writing into a 2 hour block will give you more time in the day, not less.

Don’t spend your energy planning to write, spend it writing.

Momentum

Writing is tough. There are so many layers to a good scene, so many details to a story. The unfortunate truth is that it’s too much for one brain to remember for long.

If you stop writing for a week, you forget the upcoming scenes.

Stop for a month, you’ll forget the whole story.

Stop for three months and you’ll forget how to write in the first place.

The hardest day to write is your first day back from a break. Before you can prewrite, you have to remember the story all over again. Worse, you’ll have to remember why you liked it in the first place.

I wish it weren’t the case, but the only way to keep yourself from the pains of ‘returning to writing’ all the time is to never stop. There are two approaches here, daily goals and a writer’s streak.

Daily goals are the recognition that the only way to keep your brain thinking about a story is to make sure that story moves forward every time you write about it. I have a daily goal of 1,200 words. The benefit here is that each time I write, I’m about six pages and a scene further into the story. The downside is that writing 1,200 words can sometimes feel like scaling a mountain. If you can reach your goal everyday, it’s useful. If it’s so large it scares you, you risk exacerbating your existing reluctance.

The Writer’s Streak is a whole lot more forgiving. Each day, you only need a single word for the writer’s streak to continue. In time, writing becomes a habit. You wouldn’t throw away a 150-day writer’s streak just because you’re feeling a little tired, right? It’s a tool to keep you writing on the hard days, and thinking about your story every day.

No matter what method you choose, remember the real goal: keep the story moving, and keep your brain thinking about it.

Writer’s Reluctance

The brain likes to be comfortable, too comfortable. Sometimes I think it hates writing. It sure likes to come up with excuses. Errands to run, friends to see, not enough motivation, fear of imperfection. It’s up to each of us to tame our own brain, to force it to write day after day. But it can be done. We just have to be a little tricky.

An Interactive Adventure That Wants You To Be Silly

/ Logan Sidwell / Leave a comment

Every choice is ridiculous, zany, or crude. Every outcome is inspired by classic science fiction moments. The twist re-contextualizes the entire book. Trial of the Clone by Zach Weinersmith (mind behind the Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal webcomic) is a parody of the Interactive Adventure Genre.

The back of the book reads “Make the right decisions and you’ll prove yourself a hero. Here’s a pro tip for you: Try to make the right decisions.” That advice is more prescient than it seems.

Trial of The Clone

Trial of the Clone is an interactive adventure, which means the book branches in a hundred different directions. To keep things structured, the story is split into 5 acts. At the end of each act, assuming you’re still alive, you’ll get something akin to a fresh start. Which is good, because wherever you go, things tend to only go from bad to worse.

The book tells the story of a perfectly ordinary clone. Your first choice in the game is your occupation. I decided to become a medic. As with any interactive adventure, the book then prompts you to flip a few pages forward to your choice. This is where the author does something clever. Between your choice and your destination, you will see 3-4 illustrations, a teaser for the rest of the book and an invitation to explore every nook and cranny.

The tone of the book is over the top zany. Within three choices, I became a terrible surgeon, fought an old woman, became the chosen one, and faked my way through surgery on the president. Bear in mind, I was trying to make the “right decisions” and based on the other branches I read, my journey was one of the tamer ones. The story doesn’t mind leaning on sci-fi tropes for many of the branched paths and it’s fun to see your character completely botch an off-brand Yoda’s training sequence.

My favorite joke comes in at the start of Act 4. You’re teleported to a secret base, and the book informs you that “if you philosophically believe that a duplicate of you, no matter how accurate, does not count as you, you die here”.

It’s a comedy book, don’t expect deep character development, just enjoy the ride. The book introduces several gameplay mechanics at the front. Inventory, combat, skills. There isn’t much to keep track of, and failure is rewarded just as much as success. Being defeated by ‘Nice man [Level 3]’ may send you somewhere much more fun than if you beat him to a pulp.

The Finale

From here on in this review, we have to talk about spoilers. Big ones.

At the start of act 5, a single conversation flips the book on its head. The loose plot and wacky adventures all take on a real meaning.

The vice president is the one to explain it. Turns out, all those weird, silly choices in the book were a part of a plan. The president needed your character to be silly. He ensured every smart choice you made blew up in your face, and every foolish decision was rewarded. Behind the scenes, unseen figures were working to ensure your every flight of whimsy turned into a spark of genius. A cultivation of the silliest person in the universe. On the back of the book was the clue. The author doesn’t say “Make the smart choice”, he says “Make the right choice”. The book was quietly training you to behave like a goofball.

And then they punish you for it. In the final act, our character must stop their silliness and save the universe. There’s real tension in the final scenes, when you have to choose between dancing a jig and stopping the big bad. The guardrails are gone, you can’t be silly forever. Your character puts up a fight too, a little too set in their silly ways. The final battle isn’t so much a battle against evil as it is an internal war between a clown and a normal, functioning adult. Can you overcome your intrusive thoughts?

Overall

If you’re looking for a quick, silly read, Trial of The Clone delivers. There’s plenty of illustrations to keep the book interesting and the scenarios are not only out of this world, they’re the most improbable sequence of events you’ve ever seen. The twist makes it all memorable, giving the story meaning beyond the jokes. If you want to lean into your ridiculous side, or maybe you’re a fan of the Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal webcomics, give it a read.

But be warned: By the time it’s over, you will be sillier.

My First Book was Terrible

/ Logan Sidwell / Leave a comment

In April of 2020 I wrote my first book. By May, I was done. I was pulling 5,000 word days, scrawling ideas on a whiteboard, I’d think of a plot in the morning and write it in the afternoon. It took 6 weeks. At the time, it was thrilling, I was telling myself I was gonna be a published novelist by my mid-20s. I was already shopping which publisher I wanted to use. For half a year, I had a tab open to the Pegasus publishing open submission page, because this book needed to get out into the world.

Right after it was edited.

My first book was a complicated thing. It tried to walk the thin line of a story about people summoning demons, revenge, power politics, and a bunch of witchcraft. And those were supposed to be the good guys. In retrospect, I think the book has good bones, but I didn’t have the skills to tell it.

The first sign something was wrong was when I started editing. Every chapter needed work, every paragraph had to be rewritten. I was basically rebuilding the book from scratch, but when I looked at the second draft, the quality still wasn’t there.

The nail in the coffin was when I shared it with my Mom. This is a kind lady who always finds the positive in things, and she was eager to read it! In preparation for her notes, I told myself she’s gonna say a lot of nice things, but I’d need to keep an ear open for opportunities to improve.

When she got back to me, she only had one note. “There wasn’t a lot of emotion in the book”.

That may not sound that bad, but notes on creative endeavors are weird. If you get a bunch of small, nit-picky notes on moments and characters, it’s a good thing. It’s a sign your reader followed the story and was invested in it. A note telling you your story has no emotion means your reader had no investment. A death sentence for the work.

In the year since, I’ve spoken to other writers about their experiences. Turns out what I had done was a common occurrence. The first book is terrible. We call it the practice book, and I had written one doozy of a practice book.

Lesson 1: Don’t write in a vacuum

I was focussed on the end-goal. Get a book published, present at a conference, win awards. But it takes years to learn the fundamentals of good storytelling. Churning a book out doesn’t make you a better writer, it highlights what you’re already doing. Strengths and weaknesses. If I had been attending writer’s groups, if I had had an editor, if I had posted samples online, they might have caught my errors before I was finished.

They might have told me my first book shouldn’t have 7 POVs. They might have told me books are meant to live in the minds of the characters, not simply describe the sequence of events. They could have told me foreshadowing isn’t just a writer being clever, it’s essential for helping the reading process the events of the book.

Lesson 2: Keep it simple

The plot of my book was compared to Shakespeare’s Hamlet, but not in a good way. Complex, deep characters being handled by a novice with the brush. The only story I had ever written was a hike through a Lovecraftian Jungle, the complexities of Hamlet were a bit more than I could handle. It should have been 100,000 words minimum. I had tried to do it in 52,000. 

It’s advice I’ve heard from film makers, game designers, novelists, and artists. The four-book epic can wait. Start with a story you know you can do well.

Lesson 3: Learn from others

I had a lot of hubris on my first go-around. Ambition is a great thing, but the story I was writing was unlike any other story I had ever read, which meant I was inventing it whole-cloth. If I had searched a little harder, read more deeply, analyzed a few more stories, I might have found a framework from which I could build out my story.

When I pitched my story to an editor, they said, oh it’s kind of like a Jurassic Park for demons. I wish I had heard that feedback before writing the book, because it clarified a lot of what I was trying to do. Some of the story beats in Jurassic Park would fit comfortably into my story and fixed a lot of the awkwardness with the characters. It even clarified what the theme of the story was, capturing demonic beasts was a whole lot like keeping Dinosaurs in a park, something that can only end in disaster, no matter how well-intentioned the characters were.

What I mean to say here is that I could have studied Jurassic Park for good story beats. I could have watched Constantine for a lesson on how to deal with angels and demons. I could have watched The Witch to really elevate the evil aspects. I could have taken notes from the best to better understand my own work.

Conclusion

It’s been five years since I wrote my first book. My second book took a little over a year, and my third book looks like it’ll take a little less than that. I talk to writers as much as I can. I keep my books simple. I read more these days. I put every lesson to practice.

I hope anyone reading this won’t be chased away from writing their first novel. It’s gonna be trouble, but thinking it’s gonna be great is a rite of passage. Write it anyway! Take some big swings! What’s the worst that could happen? For me, I’m just glad that such a painful lesson only took a couple of months to learn.

The fastest way to write your first good book is to write your bad book quickly.

This essay is also available in video form:

The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet is a Sit-Com

/ Logan Sidwell / Leave a comment

The great thing about a story set on a starship is that every person on board fulfills a different role, they all have their own personalities, skills, cultural background, and for long-voyage vessels, every person on that ship feels disconnected from their home.

I made a mistake when I read this book, I came in with the wrong expectations. At first glance, I believed this was a sci-fi epic, a gritty journey on a run-down starship to an impossible destination. Wrong. What this book really is, is a Cozy Sci-fi. It’s a season of a sit-com set in the stars. So settle down, wrap yourself in a weighted blanket, and enjoy the comforting sounds of the vacuum of space.

Plot

Rosemary Harper, in a bid to escape her past, joins the crew of the Wayfarer on its newest mission: Travel to a planet in a war-torn star system, and build diplomatic ties.

But the book isn’t about the mission, it’s about the characters on that mission. The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet is an ensemble piece. So although we start with Rosemary, she’s just one of many characters. Everyone on board eventually gets their time in the sun.

The flight takes more than a year, and across that extended journey, we take every opportunity we can to stop by a planet, meet some aliens, and have some fun. It really feels like a season of television. Each stop represents an episode of the tv show, conflicts are created, explored, and resolved inside that chapter. Sometimes there are lasting effects that extend to the rest of the book, other times they’re an opportunity for our characters to redefine their relationships with one another and understand themselves more.

All this adds up to a relaxing journey, the story is set to impulse speed and we’re taking the scenic route. The danger in your average chapter is gonna be lower. But emotionally, things are elevated.

Characters

Characters are the bread and butter of this book. Most everyone on-board is an alien or a robot or something else kinda strange. We have Rosemary, a human. Sizzix, the reptilian pilot, Dr. Chef the last of their kind, Lovey the AI with a heart of gold, Ohan the isolationist navigator, and a couple more humans. Together they form a classic sitcom cast with regular culture clashing, personality conflict, and comedic quirks. 

I’m not going to go into too much detail on the individual plotlines. All I’ll say is that this book achieves a really good chemistry between its characters. It doesn’t take the world too lightly, and it doesn’t take things too seriously either. The differences in culture, anatomy, personality, and background, all really add to the ‘found-family’ feel of the book.

World building

This book’s world is mostly your standard sci-fi affair. I’d say it leans more in the safer, cleaner direction of star trek than in the rough-shod universes of Star Wars or Firefly. Which lends itself to imagining every scene on a bright, multicam set. There’s a big focus on the friction between human and alien cultures. This book doesn’t lean into the idealistic, non-interventionist enlightenment direction of Star Trek. The crew of this ship are very comfortable sharing their opinions on other cultures, and even openly disagreeing with their fellow crew members.

From time to time, a decision one of the characters made rubbed me the wrong way morally. But this is a book about flawed people finding a home, it shouldn’t be a surprise that people make mistakes.

Conclusion

The book’s big landing is at the end. I won’t spoil it here, but there’s a reason season finales are the most memorable parts of tv shows. You spend the whole book getting to know the characters, building an understanding of their relationships, and growing to care for them. So when conflict forces those relationships to change, it hits hard.

Like any good sitcom, this book is only the first season. A strong start with a great cast and a long way to go.

If you’re looking for a different brand of sci-fi, if you want to travel through space, but feel the right way to do it is with a fireplace and a cup of tea, consider tuning in and seeing what it has to offer.

Site Launch!

/ Logan Sidwell / Leave a comment

Today’s the day, welcome to my author site! This site will be a repository of short stories, a link to my books, a report on my current projects, and a place where I provide updates on life in general.

Project MIND:
For our first update, project MIND is on its way into the great publishing pipeline. This is a project I’ve been writing, editing, or querying for the past 3 years. I don’t dare reveal many details without a bit more planning, but it’s a sci-fi with a heavy emphasis on strategy and games. The target release date is in August, but since this is my first book, we’ll see if that date holds up.

Upcoming videos:
Lately I’ve gotten a lot more consistent in releasing videos. So far I’ve opted for a low-editing, vlog style based. To make things fair, I will be uploading the full script for each video here. Upcoming video topics include a conspiracy about the book “Fall of Hyperion”, a concerning trend in genre authors, and a dive into “The Circle”.

That’s it for now, thanks for visiting!

My Thirty Seconds in an Action movie

/ Logan Sidwell / Leave a comment

I wrote this up about a week after it happened. April 2023.


Highway at rush hour. Five lanes packed with cars trundling home at sixty miles-per-hour. The vehicle in front of me slowed a little. I was incensed, did this driver not realize they were inconveniencing my day? But their speed dropped and dropped, all the way down to zero. I gripped my steering wheel helplessly, the other lanes speeding past, their wake shaking my little Nisan Versa.

There was movement in the stopped vehicle ahead of me. A man fumbling around in the driver’s seat. I leaned forward and squinted the sun out of my eyes. An emergency? A medical incident? A man finally sick of the same two hour commute every evening? He leaned out of sight. The driver’s side window rattled as if it had been struck. Something was wrong. For half a second, the silhouette of a leg craned back behind the driver’s seat. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Then the driver’s leg shot forward and pieces of glass sprinkled onto the pavement.

It had all happened in seconds. I didn’t even have a chance to consider moving my vehicle, the other lanes were moving too quick, plus I was enraptured by the action in the car ahead. Through the driver’s side window, a foot receded back into the car, and I was left blind. As I waited, and watched, my ears heard something strange. An oscillating thrum coming from the sky, loud enough to be heard over the traffic, and it was getting louder.

The driver threw himself out the broken window. He was nearly bald, wore a tan windbreaker, and moved fast as lighting. Hardly a second after I saw his feet hit the ground, he turned back to his car and reached for something in the back seat. It was a canvas duffle bag, whose contents will forever remain a mystery. I’d love to tell you that he looked my way, that he considered my car as a viable transport alternative, but the truth is he only shot a brief, furtive look at the sky, at that heavy thrum overhead, then ran for the highway’s concrete wall.

He vanished over the side and I never saw him again.

The whole thing took barely twenty seconds, and I didn’t know what to think. An opening appeared in the next lane, I swerved into it and drove off.

It took about a minute for me to realize I should call 911, long enough for that stranger and his duffle bag to be far in the rear-view mirror. The dispatcher answered flatly, and I blundered my way through an explanation of what happened. I’m pretty sure I repeated myself a few times in the explanation, but dispatcher listened to it all politely. When I finished speaking, she responded, “Yes, well… That’s a very bad man. We’ve remotely disabled his car” She paused, her tone reminded me of a parent trying to teach a child that a stove was hot, “Try to stay away from him. Is that it?” Her nonchalant response left me uncertain. Did she just not care? Was it actually not a big deal? Finally, I spoke.

”That’s all. Thank you” After a moment’s silence, she hung up.

That steady thrum in the sky was a helicopter, I realized that the moment I pulled into the other lane. It was only during the long, quiet drive home that I put together the rest. The fact that there was a helicopter meant the police were well aware of the situation, it also explained the dispatcher’s ambivalence. She had probably heard a hundred calls just like mine. Then there was the broken window. The police must have locked the doors when they disabled the car, and when that stranger realized he was trapped, he was forced to create an escape.

In retrospect, I consider myself lucky. Partially because I wasn’t hurt, but mostly because I had been gifted a front-row seat an authentically cinematic moment in real life. My Thirty seconds in an action movie.