Writing

The last day of August is always bittersweet for me, as I’m sure it is for many. It shouldn’t be so monumental, I suppose. It’s just one day to the next. The weather’s usually about the same, the trees are still full and green, and there’s not even anything on the calendar of note, like the Autumnal Equinox, which doesn’t occur until September 23 this year.

It somehow is monumental though, saying goodbye to August. School has already started for most kids, and fall isn’t yet in the air, but this day feels more like the end of summer than any other. Even the two words evoke different feelings. August = long, lazy afternoons, corn on the cob and lemonade, late night sunsets. September = crisp new notebooks, leaves curling around the edges, reaching for that jacket for the first time since April.

The end of August invariably makes me think of all the things I planned to do this summer — mostly the things I had high hopes of accomplishing back in June but somehow didn’t get to.

There’s the tall stack of books on my nightstand I vowed to read, plans to take my laptop outside and write whatever came into my mind, and the revision of a WIP I aimed to tackle while my kids were busy with their summer jobs and activities.

Oh, well.

The end of August is always a reflective time for me too. And as I look back, although I may not have read or written or revised as much as I planned, I did something else that’s equally important for writers, kids, teachers…everyone. I gave my brain a much-needed rest. I pondered. I picked blueberries. I spent time with my kids. I walked every day. I observed and listened and took stock. I watched fireflies and scratched mosquito bites and marveled at the beauty of the season.

This was the summer of M locations for me and my family — we visited Madison, Milwaukee, Michigan, Manhattan, and Montreal.

Since we didn’t have an international data plan and couldn’t (gasp) use Google maps on our phones, my son and I found our way around Montreal with a good, old fashioned multi-folded paper map. I forgot how fun and satisfying that is. He loved it, and so did I.

My younger daughter and I discovered Madison’s best ice cream at The Chocolate Shoppe, where a sign proudly proclaims their ice cream isn’t low fat, low calorie or low anything, and if you want something nutritious, eat carrots. Gotta love that.

My older daughter and I laughed for days about how her flip flop was swallowed up in a deep, muddy patch of blueberry bushes in Michigan. She finished filling her bucket while barefoot, mud squishing between her toes. Instagraming the moment, of course.

So there were things accomplished this summer. Many things. Things that perhaps can’t take place in any other season. And now, as September first arrives tomorrow, I will turn to my reading stack and laptop and WIP, feeling sad that August is over, but re-energized to start anew.

Michele Weber Hurwitz is the author of The Summer I Saved the World in 65 Days and Calli Be Gold, both from Wendy Lamb Books. Visit her at micheleweberhurwitz.com.

The genre of science fiction is hard to define, especially in middle grade. With its wide variety of sub-genres, it’s hard to pin down an all-encompassing descriptor for the science fiction genre. It is often a “we’ll know what it is when we see it” type of thing. One of the better definitions of science fiction I’ve come across describes science fiction as the “literature of change”. Science drives technology and technology drives change, therefore, the “literature of change” descriptor fits almost perfectly for science fiction.

No matter which sub-genre of science fiction, it is important to have a solid foundation in science. After all, it is SCIENCE fiction. This doesn’t mean the science has to be dry, concise and 100% factual, though. That’s more for hard science—the professional, peer-reviewed, journal article publishing science stuff. Even in middle-grade, a scientific foundation in sci-fi simply means the science must be solid and logical. It can be based purely on fact or totally on fictionalized science, but the science must be grounded in the logic of the story and not MacGyver science.

MacGyver science?

If you’re long in the tooth like me, you may remember the old television show, MacGyver, in which a science/engineering solution almost always appeared out of thin air. Every week, the protagonist would do something like stop the bad guy from blowing up a nuclear power plant (with 0:01 seconds left on the timer, no doubt) by building a manual self-destruct electric override switch from a paper clip, an evergreen air freshener, duct tape, a flashlight and a bologna sandwich found in the glove box of the custodial service truck abandoned in the nuclear facility’s parking lot. This “science” never made much sense—it just dropped into the story to save the day.

The point is, the science in story can be factual, it can be made up, or it can be magical. However, it must keep an internal logic within the story. The science needs to make sense within the context of the story world. It’s okay to present a world of mutant humanoids that rise to power out of an abandoned drought-ravaged African desert environment if it makes reasonable sense.

Perhaps their race has evolved chloroplast-like mitochondria to allow the transformation of solar energy directly into ATP energy to fuel their cellular functioning. The mutant humanoids possess a hybrid plant/mammalian physiology that allows them to survive the harsh conditions. The science explanation becomes plausible and logical for the race; we’ve established a basic fundamental to how the mutant race can logically thrive and prosper in a desert where available food is at a premium.

The science in a story cannot be carried around in a fanny pack only to be used in times of greatest need or when no other solution is apparent. No ‘deus ex machina’ solutions, please.

Middle-grade science fiction is no exception. If you’ve spent time around middle-schoolers, you are probably aware (or are constantly reminded) of the fact they know almost everything.The wool cannot be easily pulled over their youthful eyes. Kids are smart and they have well-honed BS meters. They know when things don’t make sense and will close the book or tell you straight up to “try again”. My idea of science-done-well in middle-grade sci-fi revolves around using scientific concepts they can understand without becoming lost. Scientific concepts which trigger a desire to learn more about the science. In other words, science presented in such a way it “fools” them into learning more.

Fantasy writer and fellow molecular scientist, Dan Koboldt, has put together a fantastic resource to help guide writers incorporating science into their science fiction and fantasy writing. Dan’s blog series is called Science in Sci-Fi, Fact in Fantasy and brings in professionals to blog about their areas of expertise as it relates to speculative literature. (Note: With my background in molecular biology and microbiology, I’ve contributed two posts to the series, The Science in Jurassic Park and Zombie Microbiology 101.) Check out Dan’s blog series if, as a reader or writer, you want to learn more about bringing the world of science and the world of science fiction into a beautiful and synchronous orbit.

Three of my favorite recent examples of using science in middle-grade science fiction are THE FOURTEENTH GOLDFISH by Jennifer Holm, WHEN YOU REACH ME by Rebecca Stead and the entertaining FRANK EINSTEIN series from Jon Scieszka and Brian Biggs.

Take home message is this: Keep the SCIENCE in science fiction. Use science to enhance your science fiction. The science should complement the story, not overloaded the story to a point of distraction. The science shouldn’t appear from thin air as a ‘deus ex machina’ solution to the main problem. Use resources, like Dan Koboldt’s blog series or simply ask a scientist for information.

Science drives technology and technology drives change, so never forget the science is a vital tool in the science fiction genre, our wonderful “literature of change”.