On "message," "theme," and Stuff Like That

When I’m working on a story, there is usually some background idea I’m investigating; what some might call a theme, although I don’t entirely understand that word.  In practice, it means that at some point in the process–usually pretty early–I discover that I’m using the story as a means to work out or explore some problem that I don’t understand but find interesting.  Whether anyone else ever figures out my subject is beside the point: it makes the process more fun.

So, here’s the thing: from time to time, I hear references from other writers about “introducing” a theme or some over-riding subject, and I hear it spoken of as if it were a separate process from the creation of the story.  That’s what mystifies me.  How can you, on the one hand, create a story, and on the other play with broader ideas, as if they were independent of each other?  Isn’t the whole flow and working out of the story an expression of whatever theme is being explored?

I’m not expecting an answer to this.  It’s just a thing that has been on my mind for a number of years and I just figured out how to say it.

Omegacon: Poor organization and good hearts

They started out by leaving me standing in the airport for an hour and a half. Eventually, I gave up on them and took a shuttle (after calling Reesa to find out what hotel I was supposed to be at). Then they didn’t have a room ready. Then they did have a room, but it was at another hotel. I was warned that the walk between the main hotel and the one I was staying at–two and a half blocks–was through a rather bad part of Birmingham and I should be careful after dark, but that’s okay, because they had no arrangements for transportation. I could eat if I could make it back to my hotel and charge a meal to my room, other than that, well, see above about lack of transportation. My experience was, let us say, not unique.

That’s one side of the story. On the other side, there was Nathan, and Paige, and Chris, and Josh, and Adam, all of whom worked their asses off to make up for the various screw-ups. There was a seemingly endless supply of friendly, intelligent people to talk to (Ben and Rene especially stand out). The panels were, for the most part, lively and engagingly. And I was taken out for some of the best barbecue I’ve ever had by the Ladies of Tor–perhaps the high point of the weekend. And there was jamming with Steve Hickman–a blast.

In the airport on the way home I was sitting in a back corner of the bar (a smoking permitted bar! Civilization is not dead!) and met a couple of musicians. Is that a drum? Yes. African? North African. Can it be tuned? Yes–see these lugs? Do you play it with your fingers? Yes, sometimes–here, like this, see? And like this? And then you can do this….and I stopped and got a round of applause from everyone in the bar. Hee hee. That was nifty.

I’d hate to guarantee it, but I have the feeling that, by next year, Omegacon will have ironed out most of the bugs and be ready to put on a good convention. As for this year, well, there was some fun, and I’m very glad to be home.

A koan

One day the sous-chef said to Alton Brown, “Master, how much kosher salt is the right amount for a rib roast?”  And Alton Brown said, “Dice two cloves of garlic.”  In this moment, the sous-chef achieved enlightenment.