Month: December 2022

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That Was the Year That Was

As we aim to close the books on 2022, I’m not going to lie: it’s been a rough year. Putin’s (re)invasion of Ukraine had a brutal effect on my day job, making the time for writing even shorter than usual – and frequently wiping it out altogether. But despite that a surprising amount got done on the writing front. Braking Day came out in April; A Quiet Teacher hit the shelves in November; Worlds Long Lost, the anthology to which I contributed the story, The Wrong Shape to Fly, was published in December; and I finally (finally!) finished my first draft of E________, to which I plan to return in the New Year, once the froth of it has settled out of my head.

Nor is that all. I HAVE BEEN NOMINATED FOR A LITERARY PRIZE! Which, let me tell you, never ever happens to me. Not even in school.

I am one of the finalists for the 100 Year Starship (100YSS) 2022 Canopus Awards for Excellence in Interstellar Writing in the published long form fiction category (novels and longish novellas). Canopus recognizes “the finest fiction and non-fiction works that expand our understanding of the challenges, opportunities, pitfalls, and rewards of interstellar space exploration.” Cool, right?

The complete long-form list is as follows:

What I’m really excited about is not just the nomination but the company I get to keep. These are real serious SF writers! And now I’m one of them!

Wow. Who’d ‘a thunk it?

Wait. There’s more! I made a few year’s-best-SF lists as well! I was particularly pleased to make the Library Journal’s “Best SF/Fantasy of 2022” (apologies in advance: the link is hiding behind the LJ paywall) and also the Track of Words website’s “Best SFF Books of 2022.” Track of Words always provide really thoughtful reviews, so it was really touching to read their year-end summary:

“A brilliant tale of deep-space travel upon the generation ship Archimedes, I’m actually tempted to say that this is the best book I’ve read all year (despite reading it way back in March). The premise is fantastic – a generation ship making preparations for finally slowing down as it approaches its destination, tensions rising within the stratified crew, and one young officer worrying that he’s going mad as he starts seeing impossible things. It’s a fascinating story full of wonderful characters exploring what life might be like for those who have only ever known the constraints of a starship. I don’t think I’ve ever felt such a dichotomy of beauty and terror as I did reading Oyebanji’s portrayal of space and the fragility of life on board the Archimedes, but the world building is so clever and so vibrant that I still sort of wish I could experience it for myself! It’s also just a really smart plot, and if you have any interest in space-set sci-fi then I really can’t recommend this enough.“

It’s just so gratifying when something lands with someone the way you intended. I enjoy writing. But writing that brings enjoyment to others is a whole other level.

So, not such a bad year after all, maybe. And here’s wishing you all the best for 2023.

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Not Quite The End

E________, first draft: 96,300 words (complete).

I am finally done! The first draft of E________ is finished! It’s taken a whole year – six months more than I thought it would. Of course, that was in the heady days before the invasion of Ukraine became all-consuming, combined with a move from Pittsburgh to Edinburgh, so I suppose I should be gratified that I finished at all. I was typing away in an early-morning coffee shop on the Lothian Road, realized that the last sentence I had written was, in fact, the last sentence, paused for a moment, and banged out the two words writers fantasize about from time to time: “THE END.”

In movies, when a writer types “The End,” he or she really means it. The actor’s face registers a sense of achievement (broad grin, wry smile, whatever), they lean back, reach for a stiff drink, loved one, or both, and wait for the end credits to show up.

Of course, as I now know, typing “The End” like this simply means that I am done with the first draft. I will walk away from the MS for several weeks, until it’s half-forgotten, and then return for a second draft, and then a third. After which it will go to my agent, the estimable Brady, who will make a number of excellent suggestions requiring more drafting, after which (fingers crossed) it will go out to the publishers, whose editors will have further suggestions of their own. I did play around once with not typing “The End” until everything was finished, but the actual end (sometime after the copy editors have had their say) occurs after the text is set in stone, so it’s simply not practical – unless, I suppose, you want to add “The End” as an eleventh-hour correction accompanied by profuse apologies.

Er . . . no.

But even though I knew that typing “The End” was not a statement of truth, I still leaned back with a smile of triumph and reached out for a slug of coffee (which always tastes better if you don’t have to make it yourself). Because if typing “The End” isn’t strictly true, it’s not quite a lie, either. It is a stage in the process, and a really important one. You have written a novel, after all. Everything else is, in a sense, just tidying up. To paraphrase Winston Churchill, a first draft is not the end of the story, it’s not even the beginning of the end. But it is, most definitely, the end of the beginning.