Rachael Eyre's Blog - Posts Tagged "sci-fi"

Here's a sneak preview of Love and Robotics, due to be released in December.

It's the year 2162. The Centre of Experimental Robotics has created their most advanced "artificial" yet, Josh Foster. Unfortunately this prototype of the perfect man likes to think for himself.

CER needs the help of Alfred Wilding, the brother of its late founder. Alfred is famously difficult, robophobic and won't talk to the press. To everyone's amazement he and Josh become friends - then more than friends. Yet this is an offence in their society ...

(Incidentally this was written in the middle of the Lancaster blackout. We were using tea lights in our Georgian attic room and the air ambulance kept zipping overhead - talk about post apocalyptic).

As previously discussed, it took a while for the main elements of Love and Robotics to fall into place. Even once I'd decided upon characters, plot and intentions, there was a significant hurdle: I wasn't familiar with the genre. At all.

There are two main strands of robot fiction. There's the notion that robots possess a cold, infinitely superior intellect, and understandably wish to conquer their human overlords. The second, more fruitful strand is that whatever their beginnings, robots can break their programming and experience emotions. Although Love and Robotics clearly belongs to the second category, I drew upon the ideas of the first, such as Asimov's oft quoted Laws. In the world of the story, artificials have to obey the Robotics Code. Every time Josh breaks one it's a conscious effort, and he awaits punishment.

I'm ashamed to say that when I started writing I hadn't seen either of the Terminator films, and reasoned this was as valid an excuse as any. Though you're unlikely to find a more pessimistic view of robotic capabilities, the first film is a fantastic blend of genres: sci fi meets thriller meets action. The obligatory romance doesn't feel as shoehorned as usual as it serves a crucial purpose: Kyle Reese needs to go back in time to father John Connor. The second film introduces the concept of a "good" Terminator and achieves moments of real pathos.

During my research I learned that Karel Capek had coined the word 'robot', or mechanical slave, for his play RUR (Rossum's Universal Robots); where better to look? Though stilted and undeniably dated, the play has several points of interest. The characters aren't robots as you or I know them, but organic, highly convincing humanoids. A maniacal robot with a vision overthrows the humans - trope 1. Two of the robots fall in love, fostering hope for the future - trope 2.

My next goal was to find a story with a proper romance between a human and a robot. A novel with great ideas but squandered potential is The Stone Gods by Jeanette Winterson, one of my main inspirations. The first section - cranky lesbian Billie falls for gorgeous robot Spike - is funny, insightful and moving. Unfortunately the rest fails to live up to this promise.

A certain sci fi award winner, which shall remain nameless, had been touted as a triumph, a relationship between a human and a robot being one of its components. Unfortunately it was an unpalatable mix of rape fantasy and racism, and I abandoned it in disgust. I tried again, with a recently published YA offering, but found I couldn't believe in the central romance or the dystopia it depicted. The protagonist was a whiny, passive dead weight and I didn't care what happened to her.

I was beginning to grow disillusioned. Had I chosen the wrong genre? If the book focused too much on science, the love story was lost; if I disregarded the science and flung myself into the romance, it'd read like chick lit. Did I even have the credentials to write this book? My more technically minded friends were adamant that whatever a deluded human might project, no robot could form a genuine emotional attachment. I was ready to jack it in when I encountered Tanith Lee's The Silver Metal Lover.

I shan't claim it's a work of genius, because it's not. The tale of a shy young debutante who risks everything to run away with a robot, it had two vital ingredients: in Silver, the eponymous robot, a hero you could conceivably fall in love with, and a relationship you rooted for. It made me see that believable human/robot romance was possible and what I might achieve with my more ambitious project.

Next time I'll look at taboo busting and what everyone imagines when you use the phrase "a love story with robots".

Writing genre fiction, you're bound by certain conventions. For Love and Robotics I acquainted myself with numerous robotic tropes. Existential questions, women as sex objects, robots as straight Caucasian males (authors seem to think any further difference will alienate readers). Robots as either subservient or hostile.

I planned to subvert most - if not all - of these.

For example, many stories posit a universal acceptance of robots, with the odd lunatic fringe in opposition - or, alternatively, the lone sceptic who crows when he turns out to be right. I found this highly unlikely and thought it should be divided along cultural lines. So you have cultures like Huiji, where girls receive a robot boyfriend as a rite of passage, and you have ones like Farva, the Faith's heartland, where robots are routinely rounded up and destroyed. Lila, home to Alfred and Josh, is uncomfortably in the middle. Robots may have filled most of the 'unskilled' industries but there's outspoken resistance. The reasoning behind this varies: the Prime Minister claims to put her human electorate first; Alfred's former stance is entirely subjective/emotional.

With such ambivalence, is it any surprise that romance with one is so controversial? Reactions range from "Burn the witch!" to "Yes, please!" Lila's status as a former theocracy makes it especially complicated. Robots are regarded by some as the ultimate erotic fantasy - the execrable Our Robotic Romance saga, read by several of the characters, exploits this trend. To others it's an abomination, enjoyed only by the sick and amoral.

On the surface, you might wonder why Claire and Josh's relationship escapes condemnation. It's presented to the public as an ideal: they're the perfect young, straight and beautiful couple. The knee jerk responses to other pairings are in reality about other, older prejudices: Alfred and Josh because they're a gay couple with a visible age gap, Dee and Hector because they're an interracial couple. One character, Mandy, is only attracted to robots - 'robosexual', you might say.

Several sci fi authors have used the robot metaphor to examine the differences between men and women - and, unintentionally or not, created works of breathtaking misogyny. A common conceit is to make robots female by default, implying that men are the norm, women the exotic, manufactured "other."(Shades of the spare rib?) Fed up with these stories, I came up with two contrasts: Trini the pleasurecom, whose short and tragic life is wasted indulging her scuzzy master's whims; and Cora.

Like Trini, she's designed to be her creator's dream woman. Unlike her counterpart, she has a mind of her own; she's determined to make it as a singer. Freed of his poisonous influence, her life takes some extraordinary twists and turns. Her storyline came out of nowhere and surprised me throughout. If Love and Robotics has a heroine, it's arguably Cora.

Above all, I was bored with the unimaginative, repetitive depictions of robots in popular media. Even Star Trek's Data, a richer character than most, has an annoying inability to use contractions. You'd think that scientists capable of replicating realistic skin and mannerisms would want the end result to sound like a human being. Josh receives regular classes in human behaviour and concepts; any quirks are due to his personality, not to him being an 'artie'. It's explicit that any lapses in his knowledge are deliberate omissions on CER's part - homosexuality is socially unacceptable, so they don't teach him about it.

Rather than have all my robots be polymaths or calculating machines, I gave them wildly differing intelligence and abilities. Talent and street smarts aside, Cora is a very ordinary girl; the "Daves", or security bots, go into meltdown when asked to consider a life outside their remit. Josh may be able to conjure art works from scratch, but he loves to relax with a trashy book. My intention was, clockwork aside, my robots should all be human, believable personalities. I hope I succeeded.

I'm delighted to announce that my new novel The Artificial Wife has been published on Amazon! A sci fi lesbian romance, it's set in the same world as Love and Robotics.

Summer has been coached to be the perfect wife. When she is sold to the self centred, bullying Robert, she thinks her life is over.

Former prostitute Elle has lost everything in a short space of time. Robert seems to offer her a way out.

Two robot women from drastically different worlds, brought together by the same man. In these unlikely circumstances, true love can grow.

Beginning tomorrow and running over the next few days, you can get my latest novel The Artificial Wife for free!

Summer and Elle meet, bond and fall in love. Unfortunately they are artificial humans, or arties, and owned by insufferable academic Robert. What's an AI in love to do?

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Artificial-W...The Artificial Wife

The Doctor Who Easter special was one of the most eagerly awaited shows of the year - and not just because it saw the first appearance of old foes the Sea Devils for thirty eight years.

It’s because in the last episode, Eve of the Daleks, Yaz confirmed what viewers had long suspected: that she had romantic feelings for the Doctor. Dan told Thirteen later in the episode, meaning queer fans have been on tenterhooks ever since.

Would the Doctor reject her? Accept her? What would that look like? The Doctor’s previous love interests have all been female, but they were when she was in male incarnations. They’ve had at least two wives and one major relationship, though that was resolved less than satisfactorily by sending Rose off into a parallel universe with a Doctor clone.

Nor has the fact they’re both female gone unnoticed by the media. TalkRadio did a vile feature equating lesbians with paedophiles; the usual suspects have bellyached about “Doctor Woke.” Even toxic gay male fans, who should know better, have dubbed it “Dyketor Who.” Lesbophobia is alive and well, it seems.

I needn’t have been disappointed. Early on in the episode, the Doctor takes Yaz to the ocean floor in the Tardis. As they gaze out at the beautiful panorama, the Doctor asks, “Not a bad date, am I?” - causing millions of sapphic hearts to skip a beat. They were seconds away from their first kiss, only to be interrupted by a fish monster. Damn!

It didn’t stop there. As they hurried to save the day together, the Doctor clarified that although she wasn’t one to date, she would date Yaz, because she’s one of the best people she’s known (a callback to Yaz fangirling over her when they met). She even mentioned her wife, River - causing Yaz simultaneous surprise (she likes women!) and jealousy (a wife?!)

Their last conversation clinched it for me. Some fans believe Yaz has been friendzoned, but they’re a younger generation who don’t understand that for older queers, coming out scenes are more in what is said and implied than passionate PDAs. I can forgive them for wanting more, especially when they’re smarting from the fiasco that was Killing Eve, but this is a family show. *Any* overt display of sexuality would be inappropriate for the time slot and audience.

The Doctor says she wants them to have what they have for as long as they can. Yaz passes her a rock to skip across the waves to make a wish; she holds it lingeringly, as though it’s Yaz’s hand. Her eyes full of meaning, she wishes this could last forever. That’s the closest any Doctor has come to saying, “I love you” - to her female companion, no less.

It was sensitively, tastefully done, sending the right message to the people who matter. If this helps even one viewer come to terms with their sexuality and have conversations with their loved ones, it will have served its purpose. If the comments on Twitter are any indication, it has helped normalise gay relationships for young fans.

We’re winning, guys.