Volume 3, Issue 2 – April, 2000
Catherine Asaro: Fictional Fusion
Few writers in the world of science fiction successfully fuse love, romance and excitement with hard science. Yet Catherine Asaro pirouettes between the worlds of theoretical physics and action-oriented romance with the grace of the ballerina.
For Asaro, these seemingly unlikely combinations flow as naturally as the choreography she learned at London’s Royal Academy of Dance. A highly respected Ph.D. in chemical physics as well as a seasoned classical dancer, Asaro believes that creativity derives from the analytical side of human nature as much as from its artistic impulses. Her fans cite her award-winning fiction as proof that, in this case, the doctor really does know best.
Crescent Blues: In previous interviews you discussed how your childhood imagination led you to daydream about girls flying around the universe in space ships (with a cat). Plus that you read a lot of the old masters like Asimov etc. Was there any particular influence that led you towards a scientific and sci-fi career, or was it just a natural progression?
Catherine Asaro: Part of my interest in science comes from my father, a nuclear chemist. He discovered the iridium anomalies that led to the theory that an asteroid or comet hit the Earth 65 million years ago and caused mass extinctions, possibly including the dinosaurs. When Luis Alvarez, Walter Alvarez, Helen Michel and my father, Frank Asaro, published the paper with their hypothesis, it caused a commotion. He’s done a lot of other interesting science, too. When I was little, he used to take me up to his lab. It was fun.
I’ve always liked solving scientific problems. Gathering data, analyzing it, solving equations, finding answers — it fascinates me. It’s hard to say whether my interest in science drew me to science fiction or the reverse. I suspect it’s a combination of the two. I was a ballet dancer in my youth, which isn’t a pursuit often associated with science, but for me the two blended well. When I decided to become a theoretical chemical physicist, the switch felt natural (well, to me; my professors were rather bemused).
I started writing in college, and it really grabbed me. I love telling stories.
Your work and study experience obviously helps in writing science fiction. How does this knowledge affect what you write?
I’m always trying to explain things to myself. It can get exasperating. A few times I tried to write fantasy, but whenever I went to work on a magic system, I would think, “Hey! I can think of a scientific explanation for that!” The next thing you know, I had a science fiction story. I do write some magic realism, as that is more in my background. Over dinner once, Kate Elliott and I decided we wanted to write a spoof where we would take science ideas and make them into a magic system. Kate (Alis Rasmussen) writes some of the best fantasy I’ve read, in her King’s Dragon Cycle. It’s fun, thinking of a scientific idea, solving the equations, and finding out what they predict will happen. It’s like a game. I can’t believe I actually get paid to do this.
Some critics complain you over explain the scientific. Do you feel this criticism is justified?
Well, it’s hard to say. My books vary a lot in that respect. It also depends on the reader. For some, the books have too much; for others, they have too little. I vary it from book to book, depending on what feels right for that story. I’m also learning how weave the science into the story-line better.
The Last Hawk and [the yet-to-be published] The Quantum Rose have almost no science exposition compared to, say, Primary Inversion. Same for The Veiled Web. The ideas are there, but not the exposition. I did them that way because it fit the style of those books. In The Veiled Web, I show the science through Lucia’s interaction with Zaki, the artificial intelligence (AI) that is becoming self-aware.
Of course, if I hold back on the exposition, I get the criticism “she must not know the science.” Some readers expect a certain feel with hard science fiction. If you don’t have that feel, they assume you don’t know what you’re talking about even if you have three degrees in the subject and twenty years work experience. Hello? However, it’s more important to me that the style of the book match the story.
I’m also a bit leery about being labeled a hard SF writer, because it might turn off some readers who would like my work. Hard SF tends to be looked down on, so if you have that reputation, readers may make assumptions about the book that don’t apply, e.g., that it lacks good prose, characterization, emotional content, and so on. However, a wide range of hard SF exists, much of it very good.
Do you ever consciously or subconsciously base your characters on people you know or the media?
I never base my characters on the media. I rarely watch movies or TV. I don’t try to avoid references to popular culture either, though. [Such references] can be fun.
When I was writing Catch the Lightning, I researched Edwards Air Force Base, where part of the book takes place there. My husband, a scientist at NASA said, “Did you know that the X-1 rocket you see when you drive into Edwards is the one they used for the opening of that TV show, The Bionic Man? I thought that was a cool factoid, so I put it in the book.
I do remember a program that had a profound effect on me. I only saw a few scenes and don’t remember the name of the program, but this one image stayed with me. The Allied forces in World War II found the survivors of a concentration camp who had been moved and imprisoned in an old building, a barn I think. When the soldiers entered the barn, and the prisoners realized they were free, they began to sing a haunting, grief-filled song. The power of that scene remained with me, and helped inspire a scene in The Radiant Seas.
As for people, I never make people I know into exact characters in my books. It’s a matter of respect for their privacy. Besides, real people rarely fit the plot or characters as needed by the story.
Of course, the people you’ve known will inform your characters in a more general sense. I probably like to write romantic heroes because I’ve been well treated in that respect and have a romantic husband. I also tend to give my characters certain traits I value, such as loyalty and integrity. Except for the villains, of course, who are nefarious scuzzballs.
Also, a nifty tradition exists in science fiction called Tuckerization. When you Tuckerize a person, you use their name (rather than their personality) for a character who plays a cameo in the book. I’ve done that a few times. I always ask the person ahead of time if it is all right with them, since it is meant to honor a friend or colleague.
You have created a very intriguing universe with the Skolian Empire and the Traders. Did you plan and document the various factions and worlds, or is it mainly an “in your head” creation as you write?
I started making up the universe when I was a child. As I matured, so did the characters and complexity of the universe. When I started to write down the stories, in graduate school, I filled in details and fleshed out the plots. I have a lot of notes now on details, such as who was born when, but the basic framework for all the novels is in my head.
The idea of the Traders (a genetic experiment gone wrong) as villains works well. Where did you get the idea for a race who feel less pain but also has no empathy?
When I was a kid, everyone in my stories was a good guy. Thorny situations created the story tension rather than thorny people. (Of course, this is science fiction. I guess you could, literally, have thorny people. [Grins.]) After awhile, I decided to put in human antagonists as well. When I wrote Primary Inversion, I wanted to create villains specific to the Skolia universe. So I asked myself, “What is the flip side of the Rhon?” The Rhon are empaths; it defines their identity. So the Traders came into being — anti-empaths. They are fictional, of course. Bigger than life. However, their traits are extrapolations of case studies I read during my training as a sexual harassment counselor. The lack of empathy that sexual abusers show toward the people they hurt can be truly chilling.
Your first novel, Primary Inversion, came out in 1995. When did you start writing it?
I wrote a short story in the mid-1980s called “Lucifer’s Legacy,” but I had trouble, because the story I wanted to tell was too long for that form. In 1991, when we were living in Germany, I extended it into a novel. It was still short, about two-thirds the length of the final book. After Tor Books bought it, I changed the name to Primary Inversion and expanded it into its final form.
Primary Inversion was published after an impressive series of scientific papers. Did writing and publishing the papers help you write the novel, or did the different styles make it more difficult?
The two don’t really affect each other, in the way that playing the piano doesn’t affect the way you derive an equation. Now that I’m writing so much, I don’t do much science, because I don’t have time. It reached the point where I had to make a decision, full time writer or full time scientist? I had no doubts on that score.
The two do come together sometimes. A paper I had published in The American Journal of Physics covers the physics I use for the inversion drive in Primary Inversion. The paper was about a math trick I came up with for circumventing the speed of light. I gave it to my students as a test problem when I was a physics professor. (Don’t you hate it when teachers do that? [Grins.]) It’s a trick because I know of no physical analog to the math. The basic idea is that you add an imaginary component to your speed, making it complex. The paper did get me invited to participate in Marc Millis’s Breakthrough Physics Propulsion program at NASA, which explores new theories of physics that might make interstellar travel feasible.
Catch the Lightning and The Last Hawk both feature a main character who is stranded on an alien planet attempting to get back to his own world/time. Is this part of your earlier writing philosophy where you tried to make the situation the villain of the piece or just a natural phenomenon of a universe at war?
I wrote the first drafts of The Last Hawk and Catch the Lightning (Part I) before I wrote Primary Inversion. Although it wasn’t a deliberate choice on my part to make the situation the villain, that form has always intrigued me. The theme of total immersion into a new culture, when you have no choice but to deal with that culture on its own terms, is a powerful vehicle. Science fiction lets us drive that vehicle to anywhere our imagination can go. It offers a way to explore how we relate to those in our own world whose lives, cultures, and outlooks differ from our own.
One really fascinating aspect of The Last Hawk was the use of Quis dice and how the game of Quis had come to take the place of war and political maneuvering in the Coban society. How did you come up with and develop this idea?
I was in grad school when I wrote the first draft. I think the Calanya might have come from the structure of academics in the sciences, where you have a leader who defines the group, directs the research, and pays the people (or is the primary grant recipient). A group can have many members: advanced scientists, post-doctoral fellows, students. The Calanya on Coba works in an analogous manner, with its Manager and different Level Calani, except they all do Quis instead of science. I played around with computer games/gaming in grad college, and I suspect my interest in making up a strategy game like Quis has roots in that, too.
Also, the men in the Calanya needed something to do. As a plot device, putting men in male harems is fun for about a chapter. After that you start running out of things to do with it. (Well, except the obvious… [Grins.]). So along came Quis.
As well as writing scientific papers and fiction novels you’ve also reviewed books and written articles on science and science fiction. What are your feelings about the current state of science fiction and are there any changes that you’d like to see?
Science fiction may be losing some of its potential audience because it doesn’t connect on an emotional level with readers as well as some other genres. On the positive side, it has an immense amount of diversity, both with regard to the stories and the writing styles. And the media tie-in books sell like mad (though that can be a point of controversy within the genre). With all the mergers going on in publishing right now, and the advent of ebooks, it is hard to tell what is going to happen with the science fiction midlist.
The definition of the field is changing. Twenty years ago, The Veiled Web would have been science fiction, no question. Now, when people read a story about an AI awakening to his own sense of self, it almost sounds mainstream. I’ve always worked with computers and the nets since their inception, so it feels normal to me, too.
I understand you teach (or did teach) ballet. Does your love and work in this art form have an influence on the fiction you write?
Ballet has shaped my whole life. I started when I was five, passed the five grades of the Royal Academy of Dance (RAD) syllabus, and then passed the first professional exam, which made me a student member of the RAD. In college I danced with the [University of California] Jazz Dancers. The best part was when we performed in Royce Hall for the Frank Sinatra Awards. At Harvard, I founded the Mainly Jazz Dancers and the Harvard University Ballet, and served as Artistic Director for both. I’ve danced in both ballet and jazz, and also done flamenco and musical comedy.
Dance has given me so much. An artistic outlet. Physical health. Mental and physical discipline. The creative outlet means a great deal to me, on many levels. I don’t know why I need to be creative, only that has to come out. Performing also gave me a physical outlet for creativity, a way to express emotions through movement. For some reason, I needed that in my youth.
Being a dancer and a choreographer helped me develop spatial perception, which is invaluable to a scientist. Ballet has a strong mathematical component to it. I doubt it’s coincidence that the percentage of ballet dancers who do well at math is larger than the percentage in the general population. For me, the creative spark of coming up with a new idea in math is very much like coming up with a new idea in ballet. I don’t think the separation our culture puts between the “analytic” and “artistic” is real. Both are aspects of the unique human ability to be creative.
As a writer of romantic science fiction you seem to have the perfect balance between the two genres. How do you achieve this effect?
I don’t try, it just comes out. I never consciously thought of doing one or the other. I write what I like to read. The balance of science fiction, adventure, romance, and intrigue varies from book to book, so there is something for most tastes.
My first book, Primary Inversion, has been called Romeo and Juliet in outer space, but with a happy ending. When it came out, I was surprised that some science fiction reviewers felt it was set up for a sequel. To me, the story was complete. I had a book in mind for the sequel, but I considered the two novels as stand-alones. As I came to know the genres better, I realized that Primary Inversion completes the love story but not the science fiction story. It takes the two books together, Primary Inversion and its sequel The Radiant Seas to finish the epic told in that story arc.
My books with the strongest romances are Catch the Lightning, The Quantum Rose, and The Veiled Web. Catch the Lightning is far future space adventure, The Quantum Rose has more of a fantasy feel (though it is still SF), and The Veiled Web is set in the near future, in Morocco. The first half of Quantum Rose was serialized in Analog magazine. My novella “Aurora in Four Voices” appeared in the December 1998 Analog and did well in both genres.
It’s pushing it to call Primary Inversion a romance, because the lovers are apart for a third of the book. Similarly, although my book The Last Hawk has been called romantic in science fiction circles, there are many reasons why it doesn’t qualify in the genre sense. That is also true of The Radiant Seas and my latest book, Ascendant Sun.
I’ve another novella appearing as the cover story for the July/August issue of Analog. It’s called “A Roll of the Dice” and is set on the same world, Coba, where The Last Hawk takes place, about ten years after the end of The Last Hawk. Although it’s romantic, I wouldn’t really call this one a romance.
From the perspective of a reviewer and scientist what sort of advice would you give to people who want to write in the romantic science fiction and SF field?
To write fiction that appeals to both types of readers, you have to respect both genres. Science fiction is a literature of ideas — and how those ideas affect people (human or otherwise). The ideas can be about anything: new cultures, new science, art looked at in a new way, clever plays on linguistics, new forms of interpersonal relationships — anything. But they must be crucial to the story, not just trappings. The ideas have to be dealt with in an intellectually satisfying manner.
The Romance Writers of America describe a romance as “a love story that has an emotionally satisfying, optimistic ending.” Romance consistently looks to the better side of human nature, how people find honor, healing, and redemption through coming to love another human being. The development of the emotional conflict and its solution must be crucial to the story, not just part of the trappings. The relationship has to be dealt with in an emotionally satisfying manner.
Romance is also the only literary form I know of that, as a whole, treats the physical aspects of love with respect and joy, instead of relegating them to titillation or something ugly. It wouldn’t make sense to focus on how a relationship affects people without acknowledging that physical intimacy has a profound effect on our lives. Because of that, the genre has taken a lot of grief. That is changing, though. Romance includes physical love as an integral part of quality fiction.
One reason my books feel romantic to science fiction readers is because I deal with sexuality and how it affects the characters. I’m published by a science fiction house, so I have more freedom in how I deal with the themes, but my books share an underlying foundation with romance, the idea that sexual love is healthy in a relationship that respects the lovers and provides for their emotional needs. That doesn’t mean every book with a romantic sensibility presents an unrealistic, fluffy bunny universe. Far from it. Romance often explores difficult issues of human sexuality with insight and social commentary.
I would suggest anyone interested in writing crossover fiction read in both genres. The best way to find good books is to ask readers and writers savvy about both genres. Another tip: develop a thick skin. If you genuinely write books that appeal to both audiences (as opposed to a book that basically fits one genre and has the trappings of the other), you will cause controversy. People on both sides of the fence will say “You can’t do that!” You have to learn to let the comments roll off your back and believe in what you’re writing.
If you could have one of your novels serialized for television which one would you like it to be? Which actors would you like to cast in the major roles?
The Veiled Web is probably best suited. Antonio Banderas as Rashid and Catherine Zeta-Jones as Lucia. Jennifer Lopez would also be good as Lucia. I think The Veiled Web would probably make a better feature film than TV movie. The first half of Catch the Lightning might make a good movie. It fits the structure of most scripts.
Do you have any long-term plans for the Skolian empire? How about future plans for your own career as a writer?
I want to tell the whole saga. The arc includes not only the stories I’m telling now about the Ruby Dynasty, but another arc about the parents of these characters, and one about the grandparents. What I like about building this universe is that I have so many different worlds and space habitats to play with, and I get to design them all. I’m one of those irksome types who works out in gory detail the properties of the planet, the sun, the solar system, and all that good stuff. I also love culture-building. It’s fun.
The individual books stand alone (for the most part; it always helps to have read the others), but altogether they tell what my publisher, Tor, calls the Saga of the Skolian Empire.
Bantam publishes my near-future novels, with Anne Groell as editor. Analog publishes my shorter fiction, edited by Stan Schmidt. Jim Minz and David Hartwell are my editors at Tor. David and Stan gave me my break in the business, David in novels and Stan in short fiction. I couldn’t have asked for a better introduction. Jim gives excellent insights. Right now we’re working on The Quantum Rose, which is my next book out in the Skolia Saga. Anne is also a superb editor. She writes these incredible letters, many pages, discussing the work with insightful detail.
Would you like to share anything about current projects with our readers?
I just finished The Phoenix Code for Bantam, a fast-moving science fiction adventure set twenty years in the future. It’s about a scientist named Megan O’Flannery who heads a secret project to create an android. She’s working with Raj, a top-notch (and handsome) expert in the field. As the android becomes self-aware, however, he decides that he doesn’t want the life everyone has laid out for him. So he kidnaps Megan and Raj and takes off for Las Vegas.
Is there anything you might like to tell readers not familiar with your work about The Radiant Seas and your other writings?
The Radiant Seas is the sequel to Primary Inversion. You don’t have to read Primary Inversion first, but The Radiant Seas hangs together better if you do.
The Veiled Web came out in December, and has no connection to the Skolia books. It’s near-future science fiction romantic suspense novel (which may be the longest subgenre category description ever given!).
About my novels or writing in general, I would say that I write, first and foremost, about people and their relationships. I tell stories about the rise and fall of civilizations by focusing on the characters, telling the bigger picture through the stories of the individual people involved. The books usually tell one character’s story. The Radiant Seas is a multi-viewpoint, multi-plot epic, though, as will be some of the books. I vary the style a great deal from book to book.
What is the Skolian Saga? Taken altogether, the books give the big story of how the Skolian, Trader, and Allied civilizations evolve over several centuries. But… I tell it all through the Ruby Dynasty. It is a big, multi-generational saga about that family. They participate in the rule of an empire, though, so it is also a saga about the empire.
As our last question, Crescent Blues likes to offer itself as an open forum. Is there is anything you’d like to add (not necessarily related to writing), a particular soapbox topic or anything you’d like to say?
I hope that someday humans can achieve the crossroads I wrote about in The Veiled Web, that someday we will find a place where we can all meet in acceptance and tolerance regardless of differences in culture, way of life, religion, sex, or race. I’m idealistic, I know, but I do believe we can find that dream.
Stephen Smith