I’m currently reading a science-fiction series written in the middle of the last century. It’s a classic. I’d heard of it before but this is the first time I’m actually reading it.
It’s epic in its scope, both in how far into the future it’s set and in the size of the civilisation it’s documenting. But it is still very much of the time it was written.
For example, there are no computers, but there are projectors and microfilm. Although there is use of faster-than-light travel, some of the planets are still using oil and coal (where they’re getting it I’m not sure) and other planets are using atomic energy. And to really show the time period it was written, characters regularly smoke cigars and cigarettes even if they’re in a spaceship (obviously not in pure oxygen environments!).
I get a little giggle every time I come across something that shows how long ago it was written, but I also really love it (apart from the smoking, of course). The result is a type of sci-fi that gives you an incredible future with really basic technology. It has a wonderful charm that makes it a story about the future and the past all at once. It’s a time capsule of what the future looked like at that point in history.
This feels relevant because we’re going through a change in technology right now. We’ve suddenly acquired artificial intelligence which means that what’s suddenly possible and what people have access to is completely different to only a few years ago.
This hits home with me because I’ve just released my sci-fi story Be All My Futures Remembered which was written last decade. Before AI. And I’ve toyed with the idea that maybe I should go back in and try to shoehorn in some AI references. Will my sci-fi look strange because there’s no AI? Or will it be the last sci-fi I wrote before AI became a thing?
Reading that classic sci-fi has taught me that it’s okay to capture your current dynamics while trying to describe the future. That’s all part of the charm. It’s the deeper milieu to what I’m creating. The author and her time period are reflected in the work.
What does my Creativity have to say on the subject?
I told her not to change it! But did she listen? Nooo. She has to go off and read ancient sci-fi before she feels she has permission to leave something JUST AS IT IS! (Point of contention. Can you tell?)
Phhoofff!
Now that I’ve come down off that tall horse (or was it a soap box?) (no wait, is it tall horse or high horse?)…now that I’ve come down off whatever I’ve come down off of, let’s have a little chat about things that get in our way.
If you’re trying to be timeless, well first of all you don’t get to decide what’s timeless. Other people do. You just get to create the best most amazing thing you and your Creativity want to create and then let it go where it may—whether it becomes your mother’s favourite lullaby about fluffy bunnies and persimmons or a bestselling epic on clown-shaped snow globes that take over the world (you can have that idea, Jessica doesn’t want it for some reason). And second, you can’t ever completely create something separate from your environment and time period, and that’s completely okay. That’s true of everyone who creates.
Trying to cover all your bases and all eventualities is not only a huge time suck, but it’s also a formidable barrier to creating anything. It gets you too ‘up in your head’ (I believe the term is, though ‘in a mental twizzle’ could be another one) and thinking about what’s going to happen to your project once it’s out of your hands.
But when it’s out of your hands it’s…well…it’s OUT OF YOUR HANDS. Worrying about how your story or painting or composition will come across twenty, fifty, a hundred years down the track only serves to pretty much ensure it will never even see one year out in the world. Worrying about it will stop you dead more effectively than a rotten sycamore after a category five cyclone (because they fall down during cyclones, get it? Well, if I have to explain it, then it’s not working, is it? Sigh. It’s all that soap boxing. I’ve got suds on the brain).
Think about your favourite books, movies, music. Can you see how each of them—from Pride and Prejudice to that latest hit song you can’t stop playing, even in the shower!—is a product of its time? And how often does that time contribute to what you love about that creation?
Okay. Now to conclude. (Though I will just say that yes, “high horse” is the term!)
This subject reminds me of a certain bestselling series that is always set in the year after the book is released, to give you the feeling that you’re about to live through the thrilling events in the book. So, for example, if the book was published in 2019, then the story would be set in 2020.
The problem is, in 2019 there was no way to know we’d be in global lockdown in 2020. And so the story was even more fiction than usual, with no mention of Covid as the characters raced to save the world from a completely different disaster.
Did it make a difference to how I read the book (which I didn’t finish, but I completely started it, which is a solid win for me)? It gave me a little giggle, but there was something to be loved about this mini time capsule that showed what we dreamed 2020 could be.
We’re not mind readers. We’re not fortune tellers. We’re creators. We create in the moment and we create with all our heart.
What we create is a product of the time we’re in right now and it’s our job to create a time capsule and send it out into the world.
So, do you agree? And what time have you encapsulated? Tell us about it below.