I never really thought of myself as a steampunk writer. But I had an idea for a steampunk short story and thought I’d experiment with it. I made the page bleed ink where I scratched the paper with my pen. It wasn’t pretty. I need the reader to figure something out before the protagonist but some clues seem too obvious for the protagonist to miss while others are so subtle, a reader might have to go back and check to be sure they were really there. I think I revealed a plot point too soon too but I can’t keep the story moving forward if I don’t keep it. How do I fix all this?
I took a break from writing and turned my attention to some classic Sherlock Holmes. If anything can inspire a tightly written mystery, it’s Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. And if anything can inspire intelligent steampunk writing, it’s Sherlock! I took a short mental vacation with The Hound of the Baskervilles, Classic Sherlock Holmes at his best!
But it didn’t inspire me at all. In fact it kind of depressed me. Reading such a master unfold a story to keep a reader entertained, thinking, and guessing all at once was marvelous and intimidating. What business do I have trying to be a steampunk writer when any reader can pick up this instead? My break from writing grew. I didn’t want to admit it but I set the story aside completely.
While in Toronto earlier this month, I took the opportunity to pay homage to Sir Arthur by visiting the Toronto Public Reference Library where Peggy Perdue curates the Arthur Conan Doyle collection. I wrote ahead asking Peggy about insight into His writing process and creative habits. She was good enough to set a few things aside for a wanna-be steampunk writer to explore.
The first thing I noticed on the cart she set up for me, was this curious dog-head toy, The Hound of the Baskervilles. The mouth opens to reveal the pages of the story. The jagged teeth are printed on the side of the pages. He’s adorable in a creepy sort of way. He even comes with his own little dog house. The whimsey of it helped me explore the cart with less intimidation. I admired the first edition of The Hound of the Baskervilles and had nerdgasams when Peggy brought out a 1887 Beeton’s Christmas Annual. There are only 11 known copies complete with advertisements and wrappers of this annual in the world. In this publication, you can find a short story called A Study in Scarlet. It was the world’s first introduction to a character named Sherlock Holmes.
By now my excitement was stronger than my reservations. I was eager to see Sir Arthur’s handwriting. I opened one of his journals.
Peggy told me that this was story notes for one of his books. He kept it in a ledger. His penmanship was perfect. This particular journal appeared to be material for one of his naval stories. Pages were dedicated to a timeline of Lord Nelson’s life and career. Other pages were snippets of dialogue or descriptions of characters. After a while I started to notice small vertical lines drawn in blue editing pencil. Perhaps he was marking elements he wanted to use in the story? Or maybe this is how he kept track of what he had revealed in his draft so far?
My mind flashed to my steampunk story. I might apply that strategy! I could write a timeline of how the events unfolded then keep track of what had been revealed and what the reader still didn’t know. Thank you Sir Arthur!
The legend became even more human to me as I browsed another journal. His hand wasn’t so perfect after all. As pages wore on, his writing became loose. You could easily see where he had stopped and re-started later. His letters became tight and fresh again. There were also sections cut out of some journals. Pages and pages of work removed. Was he disgusted with his writing? Did he decide those pages just didn’t fit? Did he commander a journal from a defunct project to start a new one? I have done all those things myself. Who would have thought I would have something in common with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?
Suddenly the master writer of Sherlock Holmes was familiar. He was real. Just when I thought I should go back to my story, Peggy had one more gift to share. Correspondence between Sir Arthur and his editor at The Strand.
I really think telegrams were Victorian text messages. Short and pithy, they revealed a man with a sense of integrity but also a sense of humor. There was even a short “flame war” about what day was precisely the middle of the 19th century. (Considering leap years and all this was apparently not a straightforward question.)
If Sir Arthur can cut pages out of his journals, write “Nah” across the margin of a page, need a system to keep track of what he wrote and what he didn’t, and argue with his friend and editor over trifles. Then maybe I can do those things and write too. Maybe it’s time to return to that little steampunk story and introduce a character named Doyle… Doyle Watts… In honor of a certain writer who reached across a century to show me how very down-to-earth and accessible he really was.
Which writers inspire you?
Read ~ Write ~ Wander