Writing His Majesty's Starship

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WRITING HIS MAJESTY'S STARSHIP: A RETROSPECTIVE DIARY

c. 1980

Have the misfortune to read Robert Heinlein's Number of the Beast. Memo to self in future lives: don't. Experience inspires me to read E.E. Doc Smith's Lensman series. Even bigger mistake. BUT: am left with the idea of a Royal Space Force. A seed is planted ...
Read Asimov's Foundation trilogy. Much better idea. Throwaway line in one of the books: the man who sacked Trantor and brought down the remains of the Empire is called Gilmer. Vague resolution, lasting approx. two nanoseconds, to chronicle the prehistory of the Gilmer family.

Early 1990s

Start selling stories. Seem to be reasonably good at it. Think I'll write a novel.

Slightly later in the early 1990s

Not quite that easy. What about? Put the idea on hold while various ideas, plots for other stories, themes I would like to explore come together.
Read the Hornblower series in its entirety for the first time. Struck by an aspect of Hornblower that eluded me as a child: his self-loathing. He is a hero and can never believe it. Every mission he is convinced will be his last. That's my hero!
Identify other themes I want to explore:
- the United Kingdom in space (see above);
- an alien race with a psychology unlike ours in one particular way, that becomes key to the plot;
- making the switch from reasonably realistic future technology (à la 2001) to whiz-bang future technology (à la Star Trek et al.).
I have my novel!

January 1993

Have basic plot in my mind. The UK in space. The aliens. Their invitation, and motivation for same. Most of the title suggests itself at once, with one difficulty: His or Her Majesty's Starship? Eventually decide on His, and hope this will be the hardest part.
It isn't.
Begin writing, in blissful ignorance of the existence of other Hornblower-in-space-type series, specifically David Feintuch's Hope series and David Weber's Honor Harrington stories.
Mental image of aliens is ridiculous: men in rubber suits. Dwarves in rubber suits. Deformed dwarves in rubber suits. Decide to make them quadrupeds.
Opening chapter: washed-up, or burnt out, or both, spaceship captain Michael Gilmore arrives on Mars at invitation of Mad King Richard, ruler of the UK — a pressurised crater — and is offered command of UK delegation starship Raptor. (Trekkies, note subtle pun or play of words on "Bird of Prey".)
(No direct connection yet intended between Gilmore and Gilmer, but it pays to think ahead.)

1993-1994

Novel takes shape. UK moves from Mars to an O'Neill-type spacestation. Comment from colleague: "O'Neills are passé". UK-1 becomes a spaceship. Subsequent events show this to be a good idea.
Opening chapter: depressed Gilmore arrives at UK-1 at end of his last voyage before early retirement, summoned by king, offered command etc.
Writing proceeds in leaps and bounds, only temporarily distracted by (a) ill-advised resurrection of a fantasy novel begun as a student and (b) better advised, but unsuccessful, proposal of Dr Who novel to Virgin Publishing.
Raptor renamed Ark Royal. More fitting and increases the word count.

Autumn 1994

Have reached chapter 9 of current novel. Need to take something to the 1994 Milford SF Writer's Conference. Decide to take chapters 8 and 9.
Chapter 8 — Arm Wild's interview with the crew — goes down well. Chapter 9 far too wordy, mostly because of an utterly dispensable dinner party with all the delegation captains. Party cut.
Further comments:
- Gilmore not sufficiently interesting. Needs more background. Failed marriage and Joel Gilmore spontaneously generate.
- Needs a villain. RV Krishnamurthy and Greater India spontaneously generate.
- Rusties need a damn good reason for their invitation: present reason not sufficiently urgent. Spontaneous generation of reason now given on p. 265 of novel.

Autumn 1994-Summer 1995

Finally have the bit sufficiently between my teeth to devote my writing time to the novel. Find I'm quoting the text of the Rustie invitation more and more. Decide to write the darn thing and slip it in as the book's prologue.
Robert Kirby, agent representing two friends and members of my writers' group, expresses an interest (through them) in any novels any members of the group might write. Contact him. He still expresses an interest.
Krishnamurthy has emerged as an excellent villain, but only appears halfway through. Write him in earlier.
Almost there ... just a couple of thousand words to go ... and I'm not getting any writing done!! Diagnose problem: I have a life. Decide I'm unwilling to lose it. Solution: start getting up earlier. Still do.

August 1995

It's finished! 113,000 words of prose insecticidal in its purpleness. Send it off to Robert.

September-December 1995

Wait ...

January 1996

He takes me on! With apologies for keeping me waiting so long. I now have an agent. Enjoy dropping the words "my agent" into conversations with friends, family and strangers.

June 1996

Scholastic express an interest in the book. Scholastic? A bloody children's publisher?? Mortal outrage, but what the heck, I'll meet them.
Sufficiently impressed. They're looking for something meatier than their usual teen fare for a new imprint. David Fickling, publishing director, thinks the book is bogged down with too much detail. Go into meeting forewarned of this point of view and determined to refute it. Leave meeting agreeing with him.
Here's the kicker: if he suspects for a moment that I'm just agreeing with him to get the book published, rather than rewriting with my heart in it, he's not interested. Not that I would just agree with him to get it published ... but it concentrates the mind.
Begin the first of quite a few rewrites: new opening chapter, throwing us straight into the action and highlighting Gilmore's tactical ability. Space battle, kill a few people. All good stuff. Also a bit of intrigue added in later chapters.
Rest of rewrite not so good ...

Early 1997

The *&~!!Ł$ git doesn't like the rewrites! Huge despondency, but begin to see the problem. I added more plot, but left the excess verbiage in as well. David's comment: "Get them to the Roving!" So I do. Hugely helped by David's recommendation to read Patrick O'Brian's Master & Commander, first of the Aubrey series. O'Brian's characters just slide into the action: Aubrey has been through some considerable scrapes prior to the novel's opening and we only hear about these second-hand.
Decide to apply this to novel. Gilmore is summoned back from his patrol, told to take the pick of his present crew and report for duty on Ark Royal. Still keep hint of intrigue, if only to introduce UK-1's security chief Leroux, who as it is otherwise just appears halfway through the action.
Also cut anything that doesn't directly relate to the action, including (though it breaks my heart) chapter 8. Novel now down to 92,000 words.

November 1997

Meeting at Scholastic ... They lay on sandwiches for lunch, which I take as a good sign. Thrash things out with David and his assistant, Ben Sharpe. Comment by David: "don't I remember a chapter where Arm Wild interviews the crew? I quite miss that ..."
Restrain homicidal impulse. Acceptance of principle that anything that develops the characters is acceptable, even if it doesn't contribute to the action. Interview reinstated.
Decide on final look and feel of novel. If I can do a satisfactory rewrite, they'll publish it ... D. Fickling once again uses his amazing powers to convince authors he's right.
Still believe this. How does he do it?

January 1998

Send in final draft, 100,000 words. Slightly altered ending from the original, but still conveys the gist of what I wanted. And to my amazement, it really is the story I originally wanted to tell. The man's a marvel.

Slightly later in 1998, forget when ...

David confirms he's publishing the novel! Do I go out and celebrate? Get riotously inebriated with intoxicating liquour? Or ...
Sit down and get on with the next novel in line. I'm a pro writer now.