Perilous Pauline and the Fiction in her Science Fiction

   One of the questions authors get asked a lot is, “Do you do a lot of research for your books?” Since I started writing science fiction romance, I never know how to answer that. How does one research fictional science? I’m not saying I didn’t try to research FTL (faster than light) drives. And time travel. I even talked to a couple of physicists. They were kind. Both said some version of, “It’s fiction. It can do whatever you want it to.”

   I did get caught in a real causality loop with my husband when I asked him what he thought of my idea for a fictional steam machine for my Steampunk novella. As best as I can remember, the conversation went something like this:

Me (after explaining the unexplainable): So, do you think that sounds interesting.

Him: But that’s not possible.

Me: I know, but does it sound interesting, sort of plausible? In a fictional way?

Him: But it’s not possible.

Me: It’s science fiction.

Him: I know, but it’s not possible.

Me: So you think my science fiction won’t work?

Him (looking relieved I finally got it): No.

Me (finally getting he can’t help it): Well, thanks. I’ll just go work on my science fiction some more.

   We retired to our separate corners and I did retool my idea some, because I don’t want to get emails telling me the same thing from perfect strangers.

   One of the other problems with science fiction is something called world building. If your characters travel to distant galaxies and meet aliens, you need to know what they look like, where they live, stuff like that. I bought a book about world building, but it wanted me to do math. Not fictional math. The real kind. My math skills are pretty much in the fictional realm, according to my various math teachers. My science teachers thought that, too.

   Thankfully I realized that real math and mostly real science are required if you write hard science fiction. In this context, I think hard means more realistic, but for me it just means hard. As in, not going to happen. Then someone told me what I was writing is called space opera. A space opera story is just a romantic adventure set in space. Some SF fans don’t like space opera, but it works very well for those of who are scientifically and mathematically impaired.

   In the end, what I write is fiction. And I always have, whether it is in space or on Earth, I try to write interesting people doing interesting things. Sometimes those things are in space and sometimes they aren’t. Sometimes I can research elements of the story and sometimes I have to boldly go where my brain (and man) hasn’t gone before.

Pauline Baird Jones is the author of is the award-winning author of nine novels of science fiction romance, action-adventure, suspense, romantic suspense and comedy-mystery and one Steampunk novella. Her seventh novel, Out of Time, an action-adventure romance set in World War II, is an EPPIE 2007 winner. Her eighth novel, The Key won an Independent Book Award Bronze Medal (IPPY) for 2008 and is a 2007 Dream Realm Awards Winner. Originally from Wyoming, she and her family moved from New Orleans to Texas before Katrina. You can find out more about her on her website. 

Her upcoming release, Girl Gone Nova, which has more “what if” than actual science, is releasing in April, 2010.

Doc--Delilah Oliver Clementyne’s—orders are simple: do the impossible and do it fast. A genius/bad ass, she does the impossible on a regular basis. But this time the impossible is complicated by an imminent war between the Earth expedition to the Garradian Galaxy and the Gadi, an encounter with some wife-hunting aliens, and not one but two bands of time travelers.She could handle all that, but her biggest challenge—and the reason the impossible might be not possible this time—is that she’s fallen in love.Wrong time, wrong man, wrong everything. So why does it feel so right?

Excerpt:

“I am sorry.”

Was he sorry? He didn’t sound sorry. He sounded, well, not sorry. She wasn’t sorry either. In the dark she wasn’t Doc or Delilah or the Major’s creature. She was a girl wanting to kiss a guy, if she could figure out how to make it happen. The Major hadn’t covered kissing in her training. Doc didn’t know if he sensed her thoughts or just heard her breathing pick up. Maybe he was just a guy doing what guys did with a girl. His hand, warm and strong and big, slid along the side of her neck, cupping her nape. This cause had the effect of tilting her head to the side just enough to be encouraging. That it was also the right angle for kissing was an added benefit and one he took advantage of, though he didn’t rush it.

His lips brushed across one eyelid, then the other, found the tip of her nose and stroked across each cheek. Part of her wanted him to hurry, but most of her was lost in mind-reeling sensation. She thought she knew chemistry, understood biology, the mechanics of attraction, but this wasn’t mechanical or scientific.

She didn’t understand it, didn’t want to study it. It was enough to feel.

His mouth finding hers was a shock and a shocking pleasure. No amount of study had prepared her for this, her first kiss. His mouth was warm, his lips firm and gentle, confident and inviting. There was taste and texture and magic. Lots and lots of magic for a girl who didn’t believe in magic.