Last month I was fortunate enough to review the upcoming science-fiction/fantasy/alternate history adventure The Daedalus Incident. As always, I threw the author some questions, and in between dealing with publishing delays (see below) and volunteering at the Nebula Awards, he was kind enough to throw back some absolutely fantastic answers.
Without further ado, here’s an interview with the genius who launched 18th-century ships into space and made it work—former journalist Michael J Martinez.
The Daedalus Incident is your debut novel, but you’ve been writing professionally for over 20 years now. Had you written much fiction previously?
You know, I think everyone who slaps words around for a living gets it in their head to try fiction at some point. I’m sure there are spiral notebooks and 5.25” floppy disks from my youth with extraordinarily bad fiction on them. But in terms of professional writing, I was primarily focused on journalism and non-fiction. I had thought of turning the Daedalus setting into a pen-and-paper role-playing game many years ago, but it was only in the past five years or so that I gave serious thought to actual narrative fiction.
It’s a pretty ambitious book. Dual structures, fantastical alternate histories, and a science-fiction thriller/mystery—what was the idea that started the ball rolling?
Blame Disney. About ten years ago, I saw the movie poster to Treasure Planet in a video store window. (You remember video stores, right?) It was the image of a ship against a starry background. Sure, there were rocket nozzles coming out belowdecks aft, but still…it was striking. So I rented the movie and, frankly, it was not good at all. So I thought I could do better. Again, I thought for a long time that it might be an RPG under the d20 open license, but between gainful employment, moving and having a child, that didn’t happen. Who knows? I might still do a game some day. But the idea stuck with me for all those years until I actually found I had time to write it. Then, as it turned out, I actually had the skill as well.
The alternate universe is simply breathtaking. You’ve taken a grounded 18th-century reality and tossed it into the galaxy, which shouldn’t be possible yet works a treat. Talk us through your worldbuilding journey. How did you create such a place? What problems did you encounter and how did you resolve them?
One of the things that irked me about the aforementioned Treasure Planet was that there was no rhyme or reason to the setting. They put sailing ships in space because, it seemed, that was what marketing told them would bring the 6- to 10-year-old male demographic to the box office, nothing more. So when I seized upon the idea for the world, I was Spock-like in my logic when it came to worldbuilding. I wanted sailing ships in space.
Fine, but how did they get there? How were they powered? What did they find in space once they sailed there? What space are they sailing in, anyway? Air? Gravity? The beautiful thing about worldbuilding, I’ve found, is that when you ask the right questions, the answers create really wonderful elements that not only build the world, but inform the plot.
For example, once I hit upon alchemy as the “engine” of sailing the Void, then my research into the Great Work led me to all kinds of neat things, from interesting characters to potential plot points. Good worldbuilding, I think, is a virtuous cycle.
Each alternate-universe chapter includes a first-person diary snippet from the journal of Lt. Thomas Weatherby. I found these not only lovely to read in their own right, but enjoyed them in a kind of ‘previously on The Daedalus Incident’ reader catch-up. Did you ever consider writing the entire book (or at least this plot strand) in this style?
In the earliest drafts of Daedalus, all of the historical fantasy chapters were written in the first person, as if ripped right out of Weatherby’s journal. However, it was a lot of period writing for the reader to digest. Without getting too spoilery, there were plot-related reasons I wanted to keep that first-person journal in there, so my agent and I hit upon the idea of doing the snippets. They serve a lot of different purposes in the novel, so I’m glad I kept them.
In my—humbly British—opinion you nailed the entertainingly stuffy, 18th-century English voice perfectly. Where did you draw your inspiration from?
I’m really glad to hear you say that, because I thought I’d never be welcome in the U.K. again after committing such a travesty upon English history and language. And really, I like pubs too much to stay away. That said, I don’t consider the voice to be authentic at all, but rather what 21st century readers believe is the entertainingly stuffy, 18th century English voice. That’s a key difference.
I read a fair amount of work written in the period and, for the most part, people wrote and spoke very differently back then. I assume it made sense 200-plus years ago, but I think it would cause migraines in the modern reader. So I lifted elements of the voice from a number of different places, from film adaptations of Jane Austen to Arthur Conan Doyle’s stories. (I am a huge Holmes nerd.) Primarily, though, it was the writing of two 20th century writers – C.S. Forester and Patrick O’Brian – that led me to that voice. They are the twin godfathers of Napoleonic naval swashbuckling adventure, and I lovingly ripped off…er…paid homage to them through the voice. So it’s archaic sounding and easy on the ear, but I stake no claim to anything truly authentic.
The story is told from two very different perspectives. How did the dual structure come about?
Very early on, when contemplating whether I could actually manage writing an actual novel, I worried that the historical fantasy setting was just too…weird. I felt it needed contrast and grounding. About five minutes later, I had this great image in my head of future astronauts on Mars uncovering a sailing ship, and what an incredibly baffling thing that would be. Of course, I was wrong about whether the setting could stand alone, because I think I’ve proven it can with my novella, The Gravity of the Affair. But I really like how the future-Mars setting developed, and fell in love with the characters. So I kept the dual structure and I think it really paid dividends in terms of both plot and worldbuilding. I have very good setting reasons for why these two dimensions got together, and I’m looking forward to exploring that more.
Was there ever a point when you were trying to reconcile the two plot strands that you considered giving up and simply turning it into two separate books?
I’m very, very committed to thorough outlining, so there was never a point where I got all that lost. Strands are opportunities as much as problems. Like I said before, though, there’s all kinds of ideas and fun things that have grown out of the dual dimensions in the book, and it’ll be interesting to figure out how to deal with them down the road.
Gravity, for example, is a novella set in the historical fantasy dimension. I have ideas for another short piece in the future-Mars setting. Maybe I’ll go back and forth. I’ve been very interested to see John Scalzi have the kind of success he’s had with serializing “episodes” of his novel, The Human Division. That kind of multiple-plotline novel lends itself to serialization well. Then you gather it up and publish it in a full novel from time to time. Of course, I’m no Scalzi, but I like the creative and business models a lot.
The protagonist in the Mars plot strand is a high-flying female space jock, while the alternate universe—in keeping with the time—displays some pretty old-fashioned views on ‘a woman’s place’. Indeed, the evolution of gender roles is cleverly woven throughout the story as a whole. Was this intentional from the outset or something that just happened?
This came out of the logic I imposed on my worldbuilding. What would the people of 2132 look like? Given progress of the past century in gender and race issues, I quickly hit upon the notion that there needed to be a lot more women involved in space exploration, and that fewer of them would be white. So the protagonist in future-Mars is a female British Royal Navy astronaut of Indian descent, and her boss is a female Hispanic U.S. Air Force officer.
Naturally, that led me to consider how Mr. Weatherby would view them. And man, that was just fun, so I took the ball and ran with it. That was just one of the little knock-on effects of the dual settings that made me very happy I kept them both intact, because gender roles became a very interesting element in the book.
You’ve got an extensive background in journalism. Bearing in mind there is an all-too-cynical answer to this question that I’d like you to avoid… What lessons did you learn as a journalist that you found useful while writing fiction?
I’ve been out of daily journalism for more than five years now, so my cynicism is fully abated. And I’m grateful for all the experience I got working for The Associated Press and other places. For one, I learned to write fast. You need 1,000 words in an hour? No worries. I tend to structure in my head as I go, and I don’t go back and revise until it’s done because when you’re on deadline, who has time for that? The writing discipline was huge.
Also, when I do occasionally get hung up in setting creation or plotting, I can lean upon those great journalism tropes – who, what, when, where, why, how – and ask myself the right questions until I get an interesting answer. When you’re covering a story, you quickly learn that things do indeed happen for reasons. Some are readily apparent, others are not, but that’s where the story lies. Track down the reasons, and you tell a more complete story. Same with fiction.
What can you tell us about the future? The recent acquisition of Night Shade Books by Skyhorse Publishing has hit The Daedalus Incident with a bit of a delay in reaching the masses, but in the meantime I believe you’ve been writing a novella…
Yeah, it’s been a bit tricky, but we’re muddling through. As of right now, I expect The Daedalus Incident to hit shelves sometime in June or July. After that, I imagine there will be a wait-and-see period before we determine whether the book deserves to be a series. I’m hopeful I can get a couple more out in these settings, because I enjoy them a lot. That said, I’m also serializing The Gravity of the Affair on my website right now (michaeljmartinez.net) and I do have plans for it down the road. If Gravity works out well, I may do another novella or novelette before the year’s out.
In the meantime, I’ve been writing something very different, unrelated to the Daedalus settings. It’s still historical fantasy, because that seems to be where I have the most fun right now, but with a much greater emphasis on the fantasy. It’s an origin story about an extremely well-known (and public domain) figure in folklore, and that’s pretty much all I’m going to say about it at the moment.
And finally, why fantasy?
I was going to write something really profound (read: pretentious) about literature and the human condition, and how fantasy serves to amplify all that – but it was as bad as it sounds. I write fantasy because that’s where my head and my heart are. ‘Nuff said.
We would like to thank Mr. Martinez for taking the time to speak with us. If you’d like more information on The Daedalus Incident, you can check out his website here or follow him on Twitter here.
[…] After interviewing Peter V. Brett for a piece this past week, it seems it’s my turn under the interrogators’ lights. Fantasy Faction‘s Dan Hanks, who gave The Daedalus Incident a very nice review, is back to ask me all about how it came to be. Dan asked some great questions; you can check out the entire interview here. […]