The Dangers of Near-Future Science Fiction

I first wrote Rats in the Capital in 2014-2015. That was the first draft, anyway. More drafts followed, but the story was notable because it was a very British novel set in the present day.

There wasn’t any problem with that (or, at least, not so I thought). But then, in 2016, Brexit happened. And that, in case you don’t know, was the UK political schism that has since driven large portions of the country stark and raving mad.

To be fair, it surprised everyone, including the politicians who made such a big play for it. As for lanky old me, I had plenty of other problems going on at the time. However, as much as I wanted to ignore such a seismic cultural event happening to my nation in real time, that proved largely impossible.

Still, I carried on writing Rats in a rather belligerent fashion. Knowing Brexit was changing everything, but refusing to mention it at all in a final draft completed around 2020. Like many authors around the time, I just wanted my novel done and for Brexit to disappear.

But many more things came to happen then, including the pandemic and Partygate. Then, Liz Truss blew up the UK economy, and with a whole universe of demagogues popping up left, right, and centre, the sheer dystopian reality of it all has felt overwhelming.

Writing this bloody novel, then, has felt hard. It’s been difficult to know what to say exactly. Annoyingly, I thought I had something cogent to say at various points only for it to disappear again. With so much chaos swirling around me all the while, finding a coherent theme has felt beyond me.

I realise that this is one of the pitfalls of writing about the present day. You’ve got to be quite strategic about what you’re planning. Then, quick in the writing and execution. And, well, on this occasion, I’ve been neither.

So, what is happening with it now?

Well, there’s this short version. Think of it as a self-contained prelude.
I don’t know about the wider story, but if I do decide to rewrite it, it will be set in an alternate reality that isolates what I want to say about Britain. And being sci-fi/fantasy, it may do that in an alternate setting and time.

Maybe Boris Johnson has been assassinated for not being ‘hard’ Brexit enough. Liz Truss never got voted out of office, and a strange alchemy is happening to the denizens of London.

To be honest, that describes a dystopia close to the one we’ve just stumbled out of. And you never know, could be heading back to very soon. I hope not, but given how political discourse runs these days, it wouldn’t be too much of a surprise.

Want to read some stories? A good chunk of my fiction is now on Substack, so get stuck in. The stories are mostly free, too, although if you want to support my work, a subscription gets you access to the archive.

A Question of Faith

As a Christian and an author, people naturally wonder if one thing informs the other. As in, ‘Are you like a modern-day C.S. Lewis or Tolkien or something, only not as good?’

Ahem. Well, that’s not how I’d market myself exactly. I don’t smoke pipeweed for a start. Still, on reflection, I’d probably go with something more like this: 

Not every story I write is about God. But God comes first in everything I do, including telling stories.

Most of the time, my stories don’t teach Bible doctrine. They’re stories, so in that sense, I try to make them true to themselves. Even so, as an author, my relationship with God guides what I write. My art reflects my faith, and my faith will only deepen and evolve as I sprout more grey hairs and annoy my grandchildren.

It might only be noticeable in some cases. Other times, signs of this relationship could feel bold and overstated. But it will always be there in one form or another, guiding the overall shape of things—just in case anyone asks.

So, put that in your pipe and smoke it (sorry).

Battles

Officially, I’ve fought chronic pain for just over a decade. In my case, Ehlers-Danlos syndrome and fibromyalgia. And while this isn’t the time for an idle chat about what that scrap looks like, the effect of this fight on my life has been pretty intense.

To give you some idea, I spent four years unable to sit or stand. Naturally, my life fell apart in real-time during that period. These days, I am upright, which makes for a great start. But even last week, sitting and writing was too painful. It was even too uncomfortable to breathe, for goodness sake.

Of course, no one plans for their body to break down like this.

Chronic illness, like any other kind of affliction, isn’t the first thing we scribble down on our bucket lists. So, it’s hard to know what to do with it when it does arrive, like a dreaded relative who drops in for a never-ending house visit. You don’t even know how to refer to it with friends. You sense its presence reminds people of their own mortality, somehow. Underscoring their insignificance and the fact that none of us are in control.

Plus, well, it’s a little depressing. There are only so many times you can tell a friend that the latest treatment hasn’t worked. Or make light of the fact that things are getting worse. Before long, it’s a conversation neither of you wants to have.

‘Don’t keep giving me problems,’ I remember my beleaguered old boss once telling me. ‘Just give me solutions…’

Regarding the pain, there are many different ways to cope. Some treatment methods work better than others, and some work differently for others, too. Unfortunately, there is no magic cure. I’ll link to the best resources if anyone wants any more information. But I’m writing about my health today because of its recent effects on me. And how this situation might be about to change.

To put it simply, I’ve had no choice. For the last eighteen months, I’ve had to push myself into the red.

Thankfully, hope is on the horizon. After a few miscalibrations and false starts, it looks like I’ve found an experimental new medication that supplements what I already take.

It’s important to say that this new drug doesn’t remove the pain. But it does help me live with it better. And – crucially – it gives me an alternative way of coping. Because, let’s face it, you can’t keep taking opioids 24/7.

Naturally, such news is a real boost for me and my family. But we pray it also helps me do more as a writer because way too many days have been lost in recent months.

It’s early days, but my hope is this new medication helps me get ‘back to black’, so to speak. If it does, I’ll explain more and spread the word. No doubt, chronic pain will always be present in some form or another. But the early signs are I’ve got a new weapon to help me win some battles, if not the war. We live in hope.

If you suspect you have Ehlers-Danlos syndrome – or know anyone with it – then The Ehlers-Danlos Society is a great digital resource for official information. If you’re looking for tips, exercises, and a community to help with the condition, The Zebra Club is essential. You can learn more about fibromyalgia at www.fibroactive.co.uk.

Will Mason Is Now On SubStack

After nearly two decades of writing fiction, a few things are clear. One of those is I’m quite bad at social media. Blogging and email feel like better alternatives, but I feel most at home locked away writing fiction.

It’s cool. I’m at peace with this setup, but it does make the act of self-promotion harder. For me, it feels weird trying to be authentic when giant, invisible algorithms stalk the background and monitor my interactions. Even the frequency with which I post.

To put it simply, I nearly always overthink it.

‘Pick the platform you feel most comfortable with,’ they say. And that makes me wonder which platform suits me best. After much thought, I would leave it at blogging and ghosting about on Twitter (sorry, X). But then I spent some time on Substack.

Here’s the link to my profile. Creating an online publication has always intrigued me, and now feels like a good time to try. To that end, Beyond Colussus is the name of my own Substack, where I’ll post shorts, notes, and bits of microfiction.

Time will tell if Substack is my place, but the potential is exciting. Alternatively – if you don’t have Substack – I’ll continue to ghost in and out of Threads.

Just don’t expect any jokes. Oh, and always message me here if you want to be sure I see your message.

The Year in Review: 2023 Wrapped

How to sum up this year? Well, fiction-writing-wise, it’s been a real train-wreck. Despite being determined to do the opposite, I published zero fiction and wrote very little in my Word files.

No doubt, such news would have frustrated the 2022-me intensely. But the truth is it’s not all bad. I’ve learned a lot over the last twelve months, and there’s a good reason why I’ve done the literary equivalent of a bird flapping about with one wing.

The year started steadily enough. Work, fiction, blogging, repeat. But around spring, I got distracted by an idea for one of those infamous side hustles. Then, work got incredibly busy with the pressing launch of a three-hundred-page website. Throw in various health scares involving me and my family – not to mention other dramas – and, well, my creative juices dried up completely.

It was a mad summer. Ultimately, the website launched in September, but the side hustle died around mid-October. And after that, well, I experienced something close to a full-on burnout. Looking back on November, it was pretty grim. The business idea was worth a try – such as it was – but I learned that fiction is my side hustle. (We should get this printed on a T-shirt). No ifs, no buts. If nothing else, I must write to stay sane and preserve my mental health.

So, that’s the primary focus now (as it always should have been). Besides working and family, any spare minute is reserved for creative writing. If other people love it, great. If not, well, it’s still been fun, and it means I can say to God that I used His talents wisely.

There’s more to say, but that’ll do for now. After a heavy year, my family and I are in a good place, and I’m optimistic for 2024 as I write more and build up my audience. Of course, this was my aim for last year, too, so here’s hoping I don’t spend another year going full circle. We shall see. Until then, I hope you have a blessed Christmas and a happy 2024.

Review of The Magus by John Fowles

You know when you run out of books to read? Well, that was me about a month ago. But then I remembered ‘The Magus’ by John Fowles. My mate raved about it during our A-levels, and even though that was 25 years ago, memories of his enthusiasm were still fresh in my mind. At a loose end, I decided to give it a shot. And now I’m sitting here, shaken and bruised, trying to pick up the pieces and make sense of it on the other side. Clearly, I had no idea what I was getting into.

For those who don’t know, The Magus is the second novel published by John Fowles (although it’s the first he ever wrote). Overall, it’s best described as a complex novel that intertwines themes of existentialism with psychology and the nature of reality. And if that doesn’t sound intriguing enough, the book features many occult and esoteric motifs along with an overriding sense of deception and foul play.

In terms of the premise, the protagonist is a young Englishman called Nicholas Urfe, who takes up a teaching post on the Greek island of Phraxos. Handsome and commitment-phobic, Nicholas only seems to know how to keep his options open. He arrives on the island having just escaped a turbulent relationship with his ex-girlfriend, Alison, and he’s hopeful of using his free time to further develop his skills as a poet.

Stuck on Phraxos in the winter with no women to distract him, Nicholas battles feelings of isolation and disillusionment, especially after realising that his poetry skills aren’t good enough to help him quit teaching English. Aloof and alone, he entertains thoughts of suicide. But as spring turns to summer, he becomes intrigued by tales of a wealthy, mysterious man called Maurice Conchis, who lives in a grand villa surrounded by pines on the island’s southern headland.

Their first meeting proves strangely polite yet unforgettable, after which Conchis draws Nicholas into a series of elaborate psychological games. These involve hallucinatory experiences, dark philosophical discussions and demonstrations, and a romantic liaison with ‘Lilly’, an intoxicating young woman from England who isn’t who she claims to be.

As the novel progresses, Conchis’s ‘experiments’ confound Nicholas and compel him to confront his own perceptions of reality. Increasingly, Nicholas (and, indeed, the reader) finds it impossible to be sure of what is true as a sense of hazard and intrigue clouds every turn.

This is only a simplified summary of what you can expect. As I said, it’s a complex narrative and, at times, quite bewildering. But it’s a novel I found myself quite happily lost inside. The story is known for its open-ended narrative. Forewarned with this knowledge, I decided to enjoy the journey rather than the prospect of any destination.

This immersion was helped by the engaging prose, which is quite stunning in parts. Some of Fowles’ descriptions of the Greek landscape imprinted into my brain like exposures on a film strip. The cast, meanwhile, is relatively light, primarily relying on the interplay between Maurice, Nicholas, and Lilly. Still, Fowles characterises them all with compelling and impressive detail. Maurice Conchis, in particular, must be one of the most enigmatic fictional characters I’ve ever met.

By the end, I felt broken and exhausted – no doubt, just like the author intended. Ultimately, The Magus didn’t quite live up to the promise I was hoping for around ninety per cent of the way in. That said, it’s still one of the most remarkable books I’ve ever read. Don’t wait 25 years like I did.

The Software Website That Never Ends

I forgot to mention something in my last post. In case you missed it, the main gist was that all fiction writing has stopped for the time being. But in my excitement at explaining the mammoth business-writing project underway, I forgot to mention the gargantuan website-writing task that is happening simultaneously at work.

So, two massive brain-sapping projects have been happening at the same time—one of my own making, the other at the behest of my employer.

Regarding that, I’m currently the copywriter for a large software company. Based in the UK, they have offices worldwide from where they develop software that helps B2B companies trade more profitably.

They’ve acquired loads of companies and solutions as they’ve grown, so it’s hard to put a figure on the exact number of software products currently available. That said, it’s way more than 30. And with so many customers in different industries, having a streamlined, coherent presence on their main website has proven increasingly problematic.

As a result, management have long planned to refresh the website. In a vision that seems best described as ‘fluid’, every product has been presented in a way that every industry we cater for can find. Meanwhile, the content has been laid out in a way that customers can easily absorb and navigate, with product tiles at the end of each page (to lead the user on a never-ending loop).

Work began on this project roughly a year ago. And as time has progressed and the project has grown in size and scope, it’s become clear that this is the biggest professional challenge I’ve ever undertaken. Now, as the launch date inches closer, it’s fair to say the endeavour has taken up vast chunks of mental bandwidth. And so this is another reason why I’ve decided to shelve fiction writing for the time being.

Now, the clock is ticking, and I’m working through my lunch break on twelve-hour shifts in a mad rush to try and finish everything in time. All in all, it’s about one hundred pages of web copy, give or take. Each page is roughly 800-1,000 words long and describes the various products, solutions and industries we cater to.

So, at approximately ninety thousand words, the website is about the length of a weighty novel. Just not as interesting. Well, unless you like reading sales copy about software instead of stories, that is.

Version control has been challenging, as has my old nemesis, scope creep. But the real time-suck is joining all the dots and getting the site to work consistently. As anyone who worked on one of these things will know, SEO and web admin can take days of fiddling around.

I was about 60% of the way through in the last post. Now, we’re looking at around 98%, give or take. So, using the laboured metaphor of a birth (sorry), we’re definitely on the final push. And already, it looks fantastic. Especially when compared to the old one. Plus, it’s exciting to think of all the sleep I’ll get when this thing finally lives and breathes online.

Regarding the business-writing project, I’m around 36% of the way through the first phase. It would be great to be further on. Still, with so much going on at work and family and health concerns elsewhere, I’m thankful to have stayed sane.

In other news, the garden is looking clearer. The weeds are gone, and we’ve cut down the mutant fronds of overhanging thorns. Now, we must work out what to do about the rotten decking.

It’s been a tough summer in every sense. But as we approach autumn – my favourite season, by the way – there’s some dappled light on the horizon. Because I honestly can’t wait to get back into writing fiction. Thanks for reading.

Summer 2023: Beyond The Fence

It’s a bit of a gamble. And if it doesn’t work, I probably won’t try it again. But – as explained in last month’s post – to find more time to write fiction, I’m now not writing any at all!

This isn’t what they teach you in all the books. The adage is to write every day, and it’s sound advice. But there are also times to break the rules, and this seems like one of those times.

To be fair, writing is still part of my daily schedule. More than ever, in fact; just not fiction. I’m writing content for a business project, and I’m about 16% of the way through phase one.

The first phase is intense. But, around mid-September, things should settle down a bit. And then I’ll be able to get back to writing fiction for an hour a day and build out from there.

Well, this is the plan.

Weeds in the yard

In other news – entirely unrelated to writing – we’ve started work on cutting back the jungle of weeds that are taking over our garden. And the decking will need replacing before anyone falls through.

It’s another project and a nice change from working indoors on the laptop all day. And the beautiful trees on the horizon make it a great relaxing space. We hope to get it sorted for this time next year.

In the meantime, speculation builds on the type of beasts that lurk beyond the fence…

Finding Time To Write When There Is None

Last month I wrote a post about how authors can prioritise according to the Pareto Principle to increase their chances of success. You can find the post here, but TLDR, with so many demands on attention, authors must be brutal in terms of how they prioritise their time.

If writing is the top priority, we must boil down the sizeable to-do list to the most critical ‘one thing’ that makes the next step of our journey easier or irrelevant.

Needs and nice-to-haves

Sounds great in theory. But writing is rarely the top priority, let’s face it. It doesn’t preclude the need to put food on the table, and it certainly doesn’t remove the need to keep paying those eternal bills.

Sure, creative writing takes priority over watching Netflix or doom-scrolling on Twitter. But here’s the thing: What if work – and keeping a roof over your head – keeps you out for twelve hours each day?

Only to then get home, make dinner, and wrestle your hyperactive kids to bed. And let’s not forget the need to keep fresh and stay clean. What if you’re too exhausted to write after all that, let alone blog or maintain a cogent presence on social media?

Stealing snapshots in time

Unfortunately, this scenario affects most artists and writers at some point or another. And it’s affecting me significantly at the minute.

In my case, further time pressures come in the form of chronic pain. Ten years ago, I was diagnosed with a connective tissue disorder called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. Then, a related diagnosis of fibromyalgia came along after another five. What does this mean for me day-to-day? Well, simply put, my body feels like it’s made of biscuits. Trying to keep up with everyday life feels gruelling so I often need to slow down and rest.

Will Mason How do you find time to write when there is none?

I’m not moaning. OK, well, I’m trying not to. Having a job and home is an immense blessing I thank God for every day. But recently, I hit something of a wall.

Rest is essential, along with physio and eating a strict diet. That said, life has a habit of throwing curve balls sometimes, and recently, the pain has felt too much to deal with.

Plus, my family aren’t in the best of health, which means I need to be there for them, too. I don’t lament that. It’s just how things are at the minute.

Ultimately, there are so many things I want to write but barely any hours in which to write them. Moments are snatched here and there, but progress feels too glacial. Bearing in mind the Pareto Principle, then, how can I use the 80:20 to get more fiction finished and into print?

Cutting it all back

This is the question I’m struggling to answer right now. It’s why posts have been rare, and work on my novel has slowed to a near standstill. The only solution that makes sense is to pare everything back to first principles.

When I do that, it’s clear that to write more fiction, I need to have more time to write. And to have more time to write, I need to write less fiction, at least for the time being.

Copywriting, or selling with words, is only part of that approach. I also need to leverage my business writing into a digital product I can sell.

Then, and only then, can I create more space for myself and work on my passion. Which, in case you were in doubt, is writing fiction. It’s a real wrench to leave behind. But, if this venture means I have the time to write more stories in future, it’s a gamble worth taking.

So, what happens to my existing projects in the meantime?

In terms of this blog, my hopes are still the same. I want to connect with readers, provide value to others, and support my own writing. To do that, my vision has always been to fill it with interesting content like art, articles, or updates. But given everything described above, posts will have be more like diary entries until there’s more time to build momentum.

The novel, meanwhile, will get finished. Hopefully by mid-summer, after which there should be a post which explains what it’s all about.

For now, though, it’s a case of that well-worn phrase. ‘Sometimes, you must go back to move forward.’ Which, for me, means being highly strategic in terms of how I use my time. And trusting God as I become quieter than I’d like for now.

Of course, the minute anything changes, you’ll be the first to know. In the meantime, thanks for reading about the journey so far.