Monospaced

I like to use a monospaced font for my early drafts (as well as for writing poetry and songs). I find it more suited to spotting mistakes. The main criteria is that it simply looks good. Well spaced, punctuation large and easy to differentiate, and a look more similar to book text (with serifs, of course). Italic and bold versions are nice but not essential — the ones generated by the computer are good enough for drafting. These are the ones I’ve used and generally liked:

Linux Libertine Mono is the most book-like of my monospaced fonts. No bolds nor italics. Spacing is good and punctuation shows up well enough (though not as obviously as with some other fonts). Pretty much my main choice at this time.

BitStream’s Prestige BT has italics and bolds. Somewhat book-like, though it is more a typewriter font. Everything shows up well.

Century Schoolbook Mono is more book-like than most. No bolds nor italics. I used this a lot at one point. Incidentally, when I don’t draft with a monospaced typeface, Century Schoolbook is my usual choice.

These two I don’t like quite as well but could do an adequate job:

Go Mono has italics and bolds. Reasonably book-like slab serif but feels a little too bunched up.

Courier Prime has italics and bolds. A much better and meatier Courier than what comes with most computers, but still has the typewriter look — not much like book text.

I’ve found one fault or another with everything else I’ve tested. That doesn’t mean I won’t keep my eyes open for something new.

Aphantasia

Though I do not say outright that the protagonist of my Cully Beach novels, Ted ‘Shaper’ Carrol, has aphantasia, I do hint at it. When called upon to describe a suspect he saw, he needs to recall the face in words he memorized at the time, rather than actually visualizing the man’s appearance. That, he can not accurately do.

But, if he describes the man to himself when he sees him, that can also be accurate (and may even help bring up some visual memories later). Ted is basically making a sketch from words when he remembers someone. An actual artistic sketch would work as well, should one have the time for it.

Aphantasia, of course, is not an either/or thing; people can and do have it to varying degrees. I’m not at all good at visualizing myself (which is surprisingly common among artists — they see what is before them rather than some previous mental construct). That can probably be seen in the relatively sparse descriptive language in my fiction. And I do tend to skim over over writers’ descriptions, as I don’t really visualize much from their words.

And I do not describe a ‘movie in my head,’ as some writers (quite a few actually) say. I’ve never seen a movie in my head. More like vague sketches. Words come first for me; I build my descriptions or scenes from them. Which is also the way to write poetry (or songs), at least for me. The words lead me along until I discover what they are about.

Legible Type

Readability versus legibility: in reading, the two overlap but there is a difference. Legibility means all the letters and punctuation are readily recognized. Readability means the eye moves along quickly, with understanding of the text. Every book should be, to some degree, readable.

And if it is, it will also be somewhat legible. However, when readability is the priority, the eye quickly scans over the letter forms, the punctuation marks, sensing them more than consciously recognizing them. That is great for a good reader.

For a beginner, legible typefaces such as Century Schoolbook are preferable. Reading is slower but comprehension, ideally, is improved. When I am writing a draft, I have that same need for legibility. It helps me see mistakes, lets me make sure the punctuation is proper. With some typefaces, it is, for example, difficult to determine which direction quotation marks might slant, or to make out the difference between a comma and a period. That is not a good thing at the drafting stage, nor in early rounds of editing.

I sometimes write with that aforementioned Century Schoolbook. Other times, I prefer to work with a monospaced font at that stage; Linux Libertine Mono is the go-to at the moment, but others work. I do prefer a mono typeface that looks more like the serif fonts one would find in a book. Again, big, easily-read punctuation is particularly desirable.

Incidentally, though Century Schoolbook is great for writing or for children’s books, I would not be inclined to set an adult book in it. If one desires its look, there are ‘tighter’ takes on the Century typeface — more readable ones — or other type designs in the Scotch Roman style that should be preferable.

Impostor Syndrome

Impostor Syndrome

I am a proud impostor,
an actor on a stage;
today I play the author,
pretense on every page.
And if I play it well,
then I become this role,
another character
I have created whole.
I lose who I once was,
the lines begin to blur;
then who can tell who’s who?
Not even I am sure.

Stephen Brooke ©2026

Maturing

I wrote the four relatively short books that make up the Donzalo’s Destiny series over something like fifteen months time yet I can, rereading them, see that my style very much matured — improved, I would be inclined to say — during the course of their creation. It became something much closer to what I would call ‘my’ voice. I’m not about to go back and rewrite them or anything of that sort. They’re perfectly acceptable as-are. These were my very first fantasy novels and mark the creation of the entire Izan mythos. It has certainly grown since, and the somewhat murky magic system introduced in Donzalo has become downright scientific in its explanations.

They are also the only novels in which I have used a semi-omniscient point of view. Ultimately, it’s more a matter of multiple POVs but the narrator does occasionally intrude. Not enough to hurt anything; it’s still pretty much the way the characters see things. For the most part, I managed to avoid head-hopping, though in fiction since I have largely restricted myself to one point of view per scene — and, generally, per book.

Bitumen

I’ve been doing some light research into the use of naturally occurring bitumen, all the way back into prehistory. It’s something of which I knew very little but could certainly be useful knowledge for my writing. A mention in a book I’m reading about the ancient Indus Valley Civilization got me interested.

It seems it was used all the back into the Paleolithic for all the sorts of things other tars might — adhesives, sealants. Hand axes have shown traces of the substance, mixed with clays or other materials, on their broad ends, supposedly to serve as a sort of pad or grip when wielding the stone tools. I had always thought they must have been uncomfortable to hold and use, and apparently our Neanderthals felt the same.

It can be mixed with oils and/or heated to make it more pliable, and spread on baskets or pottery to water-proof. It can be used, obviously, on boats of all sorts (including Native American canoes). In the Indus world, it was even used to line fairly large pools. One can imagine all sorts of uses and I intend to do just that in future fiction. I may just drop some references to it into the next Mora novel. Those Kohari must calk their sewn-together boats with something.

And, to be sure, it would have been an object of trade, a resource to be discovered, exploited, protected. The original black gold? Well, maybe not quite that valuable but a ready source would still be worth something.

I Write

 I write not so others may understand me but so I may understand myself.

Kid Stuff

I took a chance with writing* my first book, the Young Adult title, ‘The Middle of Nowhere,’ from the viewpoint of a fifteen year old. That is difficult (if not impossible) to pull off without embarrassing oneself at least a little. Or, as the currently popular term goes, of creating ‘cringe.’

I’m okay with the story. Sure, I can see all sorts of small changes I could make but it works overall. It took me longer to write than any that followed, as I was still feeling my way. So it was useful at least as a learning experience.

For a time, I thought I might write a sequel. That is not going to happen. However, some of the characters have shown up in other novels and stories, including my Cully Beach series.

Of course, it is true that one of my latest works was from the viewpoint of a twelve year old (and a girl, to boot). That would be ‘The City and the Sword.’ And it just might have a sequel.

*Not that one isn’t always taking a chance when sitting down to write!

Kipling and Dynamic Description

This is a passage from Kipling’s KIM, and an example of what I would call ‘dynamic description.’ This, I feel, is far superior to the sort of static description one more commonly reads. It immerses one. I admire the way it is done and have attempted to learn from it, but recognize I have my own style.

The hot and crowded bazars blazed with light as they made their way through the press of all the races in Upper India, and the lama mooned through it like a man in a dream. It was his first experience of a large manufacturing city, and the crowded tram-car with its continually squealing brakes frightened him. Half pushed, half towed, he arrived at the high gate of the Kashmir Serai: that huge open square over against the railway station, surrounded with arched cloisters where the camel and horse caravans put up on their return from Central Asia. Here were all manner of Northern folk, tending tethered ponies and kneeling camels; loading and unloading bales and bundles; drawing water for the evening meal at the creaking well-windlasses; piling grass before the shrieking, wild-eyed stallions; cuffing the surly caravan dogs; paying off camel-drivers; taking on new grooms; swearing, shouting, arguing, and chaffering in the packed square. The cloisters, reached by three or four masonry steps, made a haven of refuge around this turbulent sea. Most of them were rented to traders, as we rent the arches of a viaduct; the space between pillar and pillar being bricked or boarded off into rooms, which were guarded by heavy wooden doors and cumbrous native padlocks. Locked doors showed that the owner was away, and a few rude—sometimes very rude—chalk or paint scratches told where he had gone. Thus: 'Lutuf Ullah is gone to Kurdistan.' Below, in coarse verse: 'O Allah, who sufferest lice to live on the coat of a Kabuli, why hast thou allowed this louse Lutuf to live so long?'

Words

There are always words going round in my head; some people think in pictures, some in ideas. I think entirely in words. By the time I come to stick my pen in my ink pot these words have reached a stage of order which is fairly presentable. ~ Evelyn Waugh

 

Waugh may have been exaggerating just a tad, but I very much understand this. I primarily think in words myself. I have never visualized a scene and then written it down. And I most definitely do not write the oft-advocated ‘sloppy’ first draft. I need the proper words to build the proper picture.

 

If there is a picture at all. I do not see a movie in my head, as some readers and authors claim. At most, maybe a few still shots, and those more akin to illustrations than photographs. I do hear what is being said. I may walk about, talking dialog out to myself before ever setting it down. That may be one reason I do not like any music in the background when I write. It interferes with my internal soundtrack.

Catholic Writer

I am prone to quipping that I am a Catholic writer despite myself. There is some validity to the description; that I will admit. I grew up Catholic, I understand Catholicism. And, as the cliché goes, write what you know. Unfortunately, many who label themselves Catholic are woefully ignorant of their faith. Even those who attended parochial schools.

Yes, some of the nuns who taught us weren’t much better. But I imbibed Catholic social teaching at school and still respect those teachings. I am fond of the writings of Belloc and Chesterton (while also finding things to criticize), and am attracted to Distributism as a social and economic system.

So these things have shown up in my fiction. I write Catholic protagonists because I understand them better than those from other backgrounds. Some are admittedly not so accurate in their own understanding of their religion.

Though, inevitably, I take at least a partially Catholic view of events, my work in no way proselytizes. Having any agenda is deadly to good fiction writing. Moreover, I enjoy poking fun at just about everybody. I do not spare my Catholics.

There are no Catholics—nor Christians of any sort—in most of my fantasy writing. I’ve gone out of my way to make sure no invented religion too closely resembles Christianity. This does not mean my outlook on life changes. Here, again, I am a Catholic writer despite myself.

That, I suspect, will never change.

Present Tense

I readily admit to disliking present tense fiction, primarily because it is illogical. If a story exists, someone wrote it down in the past. It is not happening now and to pretend it is makes it less believable. Nor does it serve any purpose, as far as I have ever been able to tell.

I will also admit one tends to not notice it after a while. So, again, it serves no actual purpose.

Now don’t get me started on second person storytelling. That’s a far more heinous writing crime.

Rubber Science

There is a fair amount of ‘rubber science’* in the three science fiction novels I have written under the name Oliver Davis Pike. The one SF novel with my name on it, the time travel tale “When Man Was Young,” avoids much science at all. I certainly do not explain how anything works, only a few ramifications of the fact it does work. The book was largely an excuse to write about Neanderthals.

But the ODP novels: those consist of the stand-alone “Alienese” and the two Jack Mack adventures, “Among the Many Worlds” and “Jumping Jack.” All include faster than light (FTL) space travel and various useful gadgets. I do not dig deeply into the science in “Alienese.” There is some mumbo-jumbo about teleportation, which is pretty much central to the plot. How does it work? No idea; it’s an innate gift for some species and others can follow the ways they open. It might be assumed there is some ‘folding’ of space or something of that sort. Other technology was kept sketchy. “Alienese” is ultimately a light, humorous novel and not to be taken too seriously. That is not to say it does not have a coherent internal logic. That is a necessity for any good science fiction. Or any good fiction, period.

The Jack Mack novels are another matter. There is plenty enough rubber pseudoscience to be found bouncing across their pages. I base a lot of it—without overdoing any explanations—on the use of ‘super-massive elements.’ They are definitely involved in faster than light travel. Whether they are used to create a ‘warp bubble’ or work somehow else entirely, I have left to the reader to decide. Indeed, the characters are not always certain how things work themselves!

Which is one reason I made my main protagonist, Jack McFee—Jack Mack himself—a bit of a technophobe. As in “Alienese,” there is a mental component to the FTL technology. Yes, that echoes the navigators of the “Dune” books a little bit. Not that Herbert was the first to use the concept.

However, the ultra-heavy elements thing does pop up with some regularity. It is the basis of all sorts of tech, including artificial gravity and dampening fields and such. And, of course, it is exceptionally valuable and the mining of it—primarily from collapsed stars—is essential to the economies of most of the ‘many worlds.’ I really do prefer to focus on culture and economics and that sort of thing; I readily admit it. Chances are I shall crank out more Jack Mack stories in time. Assuming I have time!

I must mention that all the books mentioned (as well as all my other published fiction) is available from Arachis Press (arachispress.com) as print editions or as free ebooks.

————

*The term rubber science was coined by science fiction author Norman Spinrad as a term for "pseudo-science ... made up by the writer with literary care that it not be discontinuous with the reader's realm of the possible." Spinrad created eight rules of rubber science:

Explanations must feel scientifically correct and have internal consistency.

Principles used for plot purposes must be planted in the reader's mind long before they are used as plot elements.

Concepts shouldn't be over-explained; a theoretical basis is sufficient.

When creating a new science, authors should pay attention to how established sciences evolve.

Interfacing two or more existing sciences will create a plausible new science.

Plausibility can be lent by systematizing terminology and relating it to existing human knowledge by choosing words for metaphorical resonance.

Rubber science can be solidified with believable hardware.

Rubber science can "contribute to the dialectic of scientific evolution" as a tool for intellectually exploring the unknown.

(this explanation was largely taken from Wikipedia; read further there for more info)

Word-Driven

A question that pops up with some regularity in ‘author talk’ is whether ones writing is ‘plot-driven’ or ‘character-driven.’ I’ve never been inclined to think too much about this; I just write the stories the way I feel they should be written. But, were I required to make some sort of statement on it, I would say neither. My writing is ‘word-driven.’ My first interest is language and its use.

That may or may not shove my writing in the direction of ‘literary fiction.’ I do not really care much. Labels are road signs, not the road itself. Still, an emphasis on language is a mark of literary fiction. As does ‘commercial’ fiction emphasize plot and ‘up-market’ focus on characters.*

All three—plot, characters, and language—are necessary components of fiction. The rest, setting and so on, is peripheral to these. Which we choose to emphasize is our personal choice though, to be sure, our chosen market or genre will have some bearing on it. I do feel the very best fiction finds an appropriate balance.

Perhaps I occasionally find that balance myself.

———

*Commercial, up-market, and literary, as used by the publishing industry at this time, are essentially marketing categories, separate from ‘genre.’ Genre tends to be more about subject matter (though not always!).

Surfing in my Novels

Surfing has long been a part of my life, so it should not be at all surprising it has shown up in my fiction. These are the novels that reference it in some degree:

“The Middle of Nowhere” — in my first novel (a young adult), surfing is only mentioned in passing by a local artist and sometime sub teacher (golly, I wonder whom I based that on).

The three Cully Beach crime novels, “Shaper,” “Waves,” “Smoke” — the main character and first-person narrator is an aging surfer and surf-shop owner, known as ‘Shaper.’ I shaped a few surfboards myself in bygone days so I know at least a little of what I’m talking about.

The two Women in the Sun novels (written under the pen name Sienna Santerre), “One Summer in the Sun,” “One Christmas in the Sun” — teens in the late Sixties, some of whom are surfers and all of whom hang on the beach. The books are set in the Naples in which I grew up in that period.

“Asanas” — again, mostly mentioned in passing, as the characters reminisce about their younger days (and dating surfers).

Although several of my fantasy novels feature more-or-less Polynesians, I haven’t put any of them on surfboards. But there is definitely canoe surfing.

All available, of course, from Arachis Press (arachispress.com) in print or as free ebooks.

Bipolar Characters

Hamlet seems to be bipolar (even if, in part, he was supposedly feigning his ‘madness’). Not that the term was used in Shakespeare’s time, but the concept existed. Thus he named Hamlet the ‘melancholy Dane.’ The actions of the young prince certainly reflect an attempt by the playwright to portray a ‘manic-depressive’ individual—or at least one with serious mood swings—as such were understood at the time.

Now, I am writing a bipolar main character/protagonist. My Lelanva is twelve years old; that is a bit early for the worst symptoms to appear. Late adolescence and early adulthood seem to be the peak years. I do suspect the onset of puberty is going to have an impact. Plenty of mood swings are to be expected! I’ve written of the same character* at a more advanced age (her late thirties) and the problem to some degree persists, though no longer quite so dominant a factor in her life.

But Lellie is going to be a dangerous kid for a while. Dangerous to others, dangerous to herself. Learning to master the sword might help her. It can also make her even more dangerous! I know she will do something too dangerous, too impulsive, eventually (probably in a sequel) and have to run for it, embarking on a new life.

We’ll board that ship when we reach the dock.

*Lelanva grows up to become Qala the Pirate Queen, of 'The Eyes of the Wind' and the two Crocodile Chronicles novels.

A Muram Creation Myth

I felt a need to expand a little on the mythology in the WIP so I wrote this. I've never delved much into the Muram religion (compared to others) but their ancestry derives in large part from prehistoric Central Asia. Think the Mal'ta Buret and Yamna cultures, among others, with a definite dash of Proto-Indo-European. I generally picture the Mura as somewhat resembling Native Americans.

These cultural roots are so deep and so ancient that I could make up just about anything, if I desired, but I attempted to echo some of the little we know of such cultures. And, of course, to reflect my own tastes in world building.

Plot-Driven vs. Character-Driven: English Detective Stories

Evelyn Waugh on mystery writers: "Mrs Christie, on the whole, concentrates her ingenuity on a kind of three card trick, "spot the villain", and even exercises a kind of mesmeric influence on the reader in diverting his attention from the significant details. Miss Sayers, on the other hand, devotes herself more to devising unexpected mechanisms of crime and in creating characters who are of real personal interest quite apart from the importance they attain through the events of the story."

And that is just the difference between a plot-driven and a character-driven novel. Two of the best known English writers of detective stories in the first half of the Twentieth Century, Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers, do very much illustrate this difference.

Christie’s work is thoroughly plot-driven. Yes, she created quirky and interesting characters, but they do not grow and change much, neither during the original stories nor in the many sequels. The focus is all on the methodology of solving the mysteries, with the characters incidental to this.

I’m entirely willing to admit I’m not much of an Agatha Christie fan. The books are certainly well-written; indeed, they are textbooks of genre mystery writing. They just don’t hold my interest that well.

Sayers is quite another matter. Her best known sleuth, Peter Wimsey, very much grows over the course of several novels. As does his girlfriend* when she appears around halfway through the series. The mysteries, as mysteries, are pretty good but it is really the characters who take our interest. We are investigating not only the who of who-done-it, but also the why.

And for that matter, why the investigator investigates. This doesn’t mean I always care for the points she makes, but there are things to make one think. One doesn’t come away with much of that from a Christie novel.

One would be correct in assuming my own work veers toward the Dorothy Sayers side of things. I’m naturally a writer of characters and not overly interested in complex plots and puzzles: life is usually pretty straightforward, but people aren’t!

*A fairly obvious self-insertion by the author. We’d all like to date our main characters, wouldn’t we?

Super-Genres

All fiction can be said to fall into three categories, which I choose to call Super-Genres.* These are Realistic Fiction, Surrealistic Fiction, and Speculative Fiction. This idea is neither new nor original to me, but it makes a great deal of sense (although, as all such ideas, it must by nature be a bit arbitrary).**

Realism—Realistic Fiction—is self-explanatory. It tells of the ‘real world,’ or, more accurately, our experience of the real world. It strives to tell of things as they are. Historical fiction, contemporary realism, crime stories, and so on fit into this category.

The Surrealist then takes that realistic world and twists it. There are no rules involved in what happens. Strange events are intended to jar rather than to make sense. This is not the same as genre Fantasy, with its internal logic and world-building.

This leaves Speculative Fiction, which covers a wide swath from ‘hard’ Science Fiction to ‘high’ Fantasy. This category differs from Surrealism in that it creates an entirely separate world with its own rules. Everything that happens is according to those rules; this is why Magic Realism is not Speculative Fiction (i.e genre Fantasy) but, rather, a subcategory of Surrealism.

‘Mainstream’ novels are, of course, Realistic Fiction. It is what is likely to be taught in most college writing courses. Some even consider it the only valid form of fiction, the only serious form, and feel the need to circle the wagons to protect it from those frivolous popular entertainments that lurk outside academia. But the Surrealist and the Speculative have coexisted with the Realist from the beginning of story-telling. They are every bit as much a part of our legacy.

Bits of surrealism do occasionally slip into the other two categories, bits of absurdity. That has always been true; it might be argued that a dash of the Surreal is a necessary component of humor. We have to look at the overall work to assign it to one of these three categories and even then it is not always completely clear-cut. Still, most will fall into a Super-Genre pretty readily; one can not find a more basic division of fiction. All genres and categories grow from these roots.

Stephen Brooke ©2024

*It seems as good a name as any.

**I’ve written (more than once) of this concept before, but could find my essays neither online nor in my own notes. So this is a complete rewrite ‘from scratch’ on the subject.

Pens

It can be inaccurate—and sometimes a bit of an anachronism—to have everyone up until recent times writing with quill pens. Quills have been around a long time, to be sure, but their era of greatest popularity and usage was relatively recent. So what did writers use in the Middle Ages and Antiquity?

Reed pens were common, and the ‘thrifty’ choice. Yes, a piece of stiff reed, pointed with a knife and resharpened as needed. The Romans used them. The ancient Egyptians used them (and maybe even invented them). Being more-or-less flat, they create a very different sort of line than a quill, something much more like a broad-nib pen.

This is not to say quills weren’t used all through man’s history. Any pointed object is likely to have been dipped and used. And, of course, brushes were invented too, very far back. Metal-nibbed pens were created and used, and were the popular choice of those who could afford them. More than a few medieval manuscripts were written with them. The uncial and black-letter forms, and those of the early cast type from the Renaissance, reflect the shapes such pens create.

The quill makes a quite different sort of impression on paper. One does not achieve wider and narrower strokes from the angle at which pen meets paper but from how firmly one pushes down. The tip is more flexible than in those other pens. This led to noticeable differences in handwriting in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries when the quill became more popular. Those differences were reflected in the typefaces created (but that’s another subject).

So, certainly, give your scribes quill pens if you wish, but remember they were not the universal choice, and relatively rare in some places and periods. Details such as dipping a reed into an ink-pot provide a certain authenticity and a different flavor to the worlds we create on our own paper—perhaps even with a pen.