Mia has written an insightful essay about treating science with respect over at the Read or Die blog. If I remember correctly, Mia has substantial academic background in physics, and it's refreshing to hear someone who is both a scientist and a talented artist talking about how to present scientific concepts to laymen, with the intention of helping them become more interested in science as a whole. How one presents science in one's writing is especially interesting to me, because science fiction is quite possibly my favorite literary genre. In case I haven't mentioned it on this blog yet, science fiction has a special place in my heart, mainly because it translates hard-to-understand concepts into stories, familiar things that evoke all of emotion, curiosity and imagination. I'm not saying I am good at writing science fiction or that I aspire to become an authority in it, but I especially admire people who are able to achieve that delicate balance between pedagogy and lyricism. Just to be clear, I'm not fussy about my science fiction. I appreciate both "hard" (e.g. Isaac Asimov, Arthur Clarke, Carl Sagan) science fiction and "soft" science fiction (e.g. Ursula le Guin, Theodore Sturgeon, Frank Herbert), and I never find it easy to compare one arm of SF to the other. (Incidentally! I learned just recently that my definitions of "hard scifi" and "soft scifi" may differ from everyone else's - I grew up thinking "hard SF" is fiction that deals with cool hard technical stuff, such as medicine, astrophysics or robotics, while "soft SF" is fiction that deals with the "soft" sciences, such as linguistics, sociology, anthropology, and the like. I realized this when I was listening to Alex Osias define "hard scifi" and "soft scifi" at the LitCritters panel discussion during this year's Manila Book Fair, but I didn't have the confidence to try and discuss it with him at the time...) Whatever the definition, I've long decided that "hard" and "soft" scifi fascinate me in different ways. There really is no comparison. However, "literariness" is a constant criterion. You may have a character recite complicated formulae that read like a phone book - but if the story wrapped around this character, the way this character speaks, the drama that unfolds, are all engaging, then as far as I'm concerned, you've assured yourself an audience. I shall read your phone book, and I shall enjoy it! On the other hand, you may have a more-fantastic-than-anything futuristic setting, with highly technical notions like genetics and interspecies cell grafting haphazardly tossed about, but if I am fascinated with your central character and the world he/she/it operates in, it's not likely that I'll nitpick. I don't really see the difference between scientific academics spouting jargon about the anisotropy of the cosmic microwave background, and literary academics arguing the nature and function of postmodernism to death. Both types scare away poor timid layfolk (like myself) from liking something enough to indulge in it. Along this vein, I don't see the difference between science fiction writers who go on and on about the scientific concepts they have adopted, and non-science fiction writers who go on and on about the metaphysical value of their work, the characters' motivations, the irrelevant and extremely detailed histories of the dramatis personae, within the text! Sometimes they get away with it, but for the most part they irritate me equally. Of course, I'm not holding the academics at fault - if they are able to make the best of their education, and if they have the skill to present their ideas in an organized, scholarly fashion, I think that's admirable too. It's just - it takes talent to weave the didactism into a good story, and most times it's not even necessary. I myself am frequently tempted to go on and on about speculative concepts I find especially fascinating... but if I'm going to sound like a pompous self-important ass while doing it, rest assured I'll make a serious effort to weed out the ego from my fiction and reserve it for my blog. Unless, of course, the character I'm using as a vessel for the elaboration demands the extra infusion of ego. As Mia had said: if you've got your heart set on involving science in your text, you have to respect it. On the other hand, you also have to respect your reader. Don't treat the reader like an idiot, and don't treat your story like a soapbox. There's a time and place for all of that, if you really must do it, but it is usually NOT the text. I can understand if it's hard to strike a balance. "Hard" scifi buffs may criticize a certain story for not exploring the scientific concepts enough, while "soft" scifi buffs may criticize this same story for having a single awkward paragraph dedicated to explaining the new world's operative logic systems. But those who can find where that elusive middle ground is, I worship - because those are the writers who get me interested not only in the possibilities that they paint, but also in the many different processes by which those possibilities can be achieved. They get me interested enough in highly technical concepts to read up on them. They get me rereading their stories and feeling like my heart is being wrenched out of my thoracic cavity every time. They get me wondering.