Everything you have been told is a lie.
No, this isn’t some confession for the ages, some wondrous revelation that I actually am a prince or a famous person pretending to be some down on his luck lounge singer.
No. As great as that would be (really?) today, I wanted to talk about suspension of disbelief.
What is it? It’s colloquially called your bull%$£t filter, bo&%ocks gauge or the point at which you go “huh?” (sounds like a 1990’s pop song – but I digress).
I was challenged recently by another couple of writers in the group I attend, when my use of a paper printout on Mars sparked a conversation – rather heated – about where the paper comes from. Now, I did explain that this paper could be manufactured from the trees of the hydroponics in the North, or the sparse woodlands of the South (My Mars is Terraformed – mostly), but this did not satisfy.
This then prompted a quandary. In another post, I suggested to keep asking questions, why, what etc. I wondered if I’d become word-blind and I suppose I have, but then I got to thinking:
“Well, in that case, where does the fabric come from for clothes? Where does the ink come from for the pens? What about the rubber? What about the glass? Fuel?” And the questions kept rolling in, which is good in one way, but not another.
Come to think of it, the same scene mentions ceiling tiles and a notepad. Nobody asked me where they came from.
It led me to think that the story wasn’t going to hold up, because people would be asking these questions and they would get in the way. I spend all night last night researching materials that could be used instead, (and I found some awesome stuff!) trying to make the minutiae work so the Reader would be immersed and not struggling against nagging doubt.
Then I was reminded of another story by another Aaron (One ‘r’) where he states that:
“Papyrus scrolls are draped over the angles of armour….this paper…is manufactured on board the Crusader by serfs who pass the technique down from generation to generation.”
Aaron Dembski-Bowden, Helsreach, p25.
The Crusader is a spaceship the size of a city that has been in space for ten-thousand years. I looked up how to make papyrus. Guess what? You need plants. Nowhere does Aaron mention this, that they are on board. In fact it can’t be from hydroponics because he states later that the air is recycled.
Where is the paper from? (Hint: It is assumed they are due to a supply chain).
Answer: Who gives a toss?
Reason: We know that technology is in a pseudo-regressive state in the world Aaron has built, so we don’t question why the paper is there. There’s a reason it is.
So then I realised, why should I give a toss? The reader isn’t here for that. They know what paper is, they know how it’s made, there’s an excuse where it came from. This is a book about jet packs and machine guns, who cares about paper? (It is important, but you dig my meaning).
This is it. The Holiest Grail – triggering the suspension of disbelief in the reader. The fine line between keeping them immersed, (Verisimilitude, right?) and drowning in their imagination, the irritating gremlin of reality pushed aside. You’re using lies and invented half-truths about things we know to be real – nobody needs to know how a pen works. It’s boring.
They didn’t ask about the ceiling tiles, or the pad, because to them, it put them in the scene, the writing was good enough they didn’t care, but the paper filled up their bull%$^t meter.
So the trick is to lie. Lie enough for them to swallow it, gloss it over.
Manipulate your reader gently. Don’t hit them with a kipper, wrap them in a warm blanket next to a crackling fire, so they ignore the rain and wind lashing at the leaded glass. They turn the pages and stay in your world, hoping and dreaming and then checking under their bed for the horrors you’ve told them exist.
Just don’t write about reams of paper on a planet that wants to kill you six ways from Sunday, that’s under siege by a malevolent psychic entity who corrupts hearts, minds and technology and for God’s sake don’t info-dump!
So Dear Readers and Good Followers, what lies, damn lies and statistics have you written? Let me know!
Until next time, have a good day. 🙂