Lost In “Epic” Sci-Fi

I saw this writer retweeted into my timeline yesterday with this:

[From Twitter.]

Never having heard of him, that tweet got me curious. I visited his Twitter. There, one tweet down (at the time) I saw this:

[From Twitter.]

Are you still with me? Having read that “first paragraph” at least TWICE, my initial reaction was I wondered if he was kidding. Apparently he is also published by several known publishers, so is evidently a decent writer; and tweeters who replied to that tweet (claim to) love that paragraph.

At least one publisher also responded, so assuming that is indeed supposed to be serious writing, I will not pretend I am not puzzled by it. I have no idea what it is attempting to explain and who is thinking it and why – and that is just for starters. What I see is an effort that seeks to “gaslight” readers into believing its sheer wearyingly wordy impenetrability indicates it must be excellent writing… leaving no one really wanting to risk being considered “stupid” by putting up a hand and meekly just asking, “What the heck are you talking about here?”

[A couple of my Catskills bookshelves. Photo by me, 2019.]

I read such only as an “ordinary” reader, so perhaps I am wrong. My lack of familiarity with modern fantasy/sci-fi writing being what it is, I would not be one who considers himself literarily well enough equipped to assert if that is “James Joyce” equivalent stuff in that genre or not. Maybe it is?

What starts out as vision soon becomes finessed into a hegemony of defeat, leaving only a sense of nihilism and the inevitability of a new understanding. As shimmering replicas become clarified through studious and repetitive practice, the viewer is left with a clue to the edges of our future. “We need to decrease power to the barium caesium collectors.”

That paragraph above is meaningless. I generated it using RANDOM phrases created by the sci-fi Technobabble Generator, the Artybollocks Generator, and the famous Postmodern Generator. Afterward, I just strung them all together.

It is simply babble… that reads like it is not.

I know I am not a sci-fi writer. Nor am I much of a sci-fi reader. I must admit that when I stumble into reading much modern sci-fi, it leads me to think of internet random phrase generators.

That sentence just above was said in “1840,” in New York’s Catskill Mountains. It is the first paragraph of my Conventions: The Garden At Paris, and you may be familiar with both. From that opener what follows is, I suppose, perhaps, what might be considered an historical “epic.”

Seeing “sci-fi” writing like that author’s helpfully reminds me that I know where I belong as a writer… and it is NOT in THAT “universe.” LOL!

Have a good Monday, wherever you are. 🙂