Excerpt

Introduction

Readers often ask me questions that presume I write with some kind of overarching plan. That I know what my themes, metaphors, and outcomes will be. There are writers who do write that way. Whereas my brain frequently resists linearity. I cobble together a messy first draft with scenes frequently written out of order and with no plan for them in mind. Then I figure out as much of that stuff as I can in subsequent revisions. I'm perpetually astounded that I'm able to complete anything at all.

My short stories are rarely published in the usual science- fiction and fantasy magazines. I do love those magazines. I'm not excluding myself from them deliberately (or at all, really). It's just that my fancy is often caught by unusual themes or projects in which I'm invited to participate. I don't write on spec any more (i.e., write pieces without a venue to which to submit them). I've never been the kind of writer who has a store of unpublished short stories that can be sent out at a moment's notice. Writing is hard! My ADHD/fibromyalgia/Non-Verbal Learning Disordered brain needs some kind of chemical jolt of excitement in order to be able to sustain it long enough to set words down. As a result of my publication habits, it may be difficult to track down my individually published short stories. So, I was tickled when Tachyon Publications offered for a second time to compile a collection of my stories published in the past few years. Falling in Love with Hominids, their previous collection of my short stories, is a favourite book of mine. (Skin Folk, my first short story collection, was published by Warner Aspect.)

When I was compiling Falling in Love with Hominids to send to the publisher, I—naturally, I thought—wrote a preface for each story, whether it was something about the genesis or context of the story, or some background fact that informed it, or just about what it was like writing it. I could have sworn I'd seen that done before. But it's possible I was thinking about multi-author fiction anthologies, since many people commented on how unique it was to see prefaces in a single-author collection. However, many readers seemed to especially appreciate the little prefaces. Perhaps because it gives some insight into some of the ways in which short stories can come into being? I don't know, but since readers found it useful the first time, here I am doing it again.

I'm also not sure what the prefaces have to tell anyone about where stories come from. I don't believe there's much generalization that can be usefully made about that. It's me trying to apply an inadequate amount of verbiage to how the process works for me. And it feels different each time. I'm now a professor of creative writing, teaching at the university level. But I've never been able to shake the feeling that I'm unable to capture for my students essential aspects of the creative process—at least, not in such a way that they can replicate it. What time of day do I write? Depends on my deadlines, my energy, and the whims of my brain chemistry. What type of music do I play in the background? Jesus Christ, none whatsoever! When there's music on, my mind literally can't retain anything but it. This is why I detest shopping in stores that pipe music in. I find myself standing in the aisles, turning in circles, trying to make my brain come up with even the name of the thing I came there to buy, while tinnitus bees buzz confusedly in my head (side effect of the fibromyalgia). I love music and dancing, but when I'm trying to concentrate on something else, music yanks my focus around on a short leash, and I feel increasingly disoriented and irritated by the inability to keep hold of the smallest idea until I get out of that environment. (Yes, yes, shopping lists. Sometimes, okay?)

What was I talking about? Oh, right; creative process and the questions people ask me about it. How do I do world-building? Fucked if I know. I've come up with an answer that sounds plausible, but is it really true? How do I know when a story is done? When its shape, arc, and trajectory have all brought the story to its end. There, does that help?

The process of writing a story, even a short one, feels bigger than I can express. Sometimes I can write a draft overnight. Sometimes it takes literally years. So, nowadays when I teach, I make a point of saying to students, "I'm going to try to teach to how to do this, but it's really difficult to explain fully. I wouldn't call anything I say a 'rule,' and I always feel as though I'm leaving something out. Maybe it's best to operate on the principle that anything I say about the craft of writing is a lie."

Oddly, they seem to understand that. I consider it an act of graciousness on their part.

So, here is a bunch of stories about people who are also confounded about how their lives have brought them to the situation in which they find themselves.

Nalo Hopkinson

Vancouver, BC

P.S. My thanks to Nisi Shawl for the suggestion of the subtitle of this collection.