“My books are big as a consequence of how I write,” tells Peter F. Hamilton.
David Brent, actor and journalist, has introduced Hamilton to the floor. Britain’s leading sci-fi author is welcomed to Waterstones Deansgate as he launches his 30th book, Exodus: The Archimedes Engine.
“Books aren’t like they were in the 60s and 70s,” admits Hamilton. “I grew up then. There’s nothing wrong with that, but I also want to know what happens to the little man. Things change people.”
The big thing changing people in the Exodus universe, Hamilton tells us, is time dilation (time moving differently for different observers). “You get to see the consequences of your actions.”
Hamilton tells of a videogame tie-in with the Exodus universe, developed by Archetype Entertainment (the team behind games Bioshock and Balder’s Gate).
“We were given money, and was told they wouldn’t interfere. I wouldn’t write a tie-in but I gave a few hints into the universe, not to the game. The developers said, ‘we want Peter to be there.’ My ideas were fine to everyone’s point of view. They know what I can do. They sent me this bible of their world. I worked through and said ‘that doesn’t work,’ and made it my own. The game will be played, I think, from a human point of view.”
DB: How much of a scientist are you?
PFH: I’m not a scientist. I just research. The engineering will be right. I’ll read up as much as I can. People sense whether You’re making it up. But the science will be as close as I know. I think of the threat, and then I think, what kind of civilisation could withstand that? What kind of worlds would they inhabit?
DB: What comes first with your books? The technology or the story?
PFH: Story first. Let’s say aliens come here for our gold and women. Why would you have an alien invasion? From there, you design the world; you start producing the world itself.
DB: Your characters drive his stories. How do you create them?
PFH: Characters have to relate to people. Sid in The Great North Road is a great detective, but also has to get his kids to school. Bad guys are much more fun.
DB: Do you have a spreadsheet for your characters?
PFH: I have 3 screens, and I have to switch between them when writing.
“I don’t see human nature as changing,” Hamilton proposes. If humanity started an off-world colony, he predicts a few challenges. “After the 3rd generation, your own kids will rebel against you. All this plays into society. Also, if machines make everything, what are you gonna do all day?”
DB: 100 years into the future, can things like COVID return?
“You’re far safer writing further into the future,” Hamilton advises. “Consumer gadgets coming out now you might be redundant pretty soon. With Exodus, I had to ask, what kind of society would this be? You don’t want curveballs. You want stability; static. You want people at the top making things static, which isn’t good for little humans. The book is holding up a sordid mirror. I’m sure people can read all sorts of things about modern society.”
DB: Do you consider yourself an optimist?
PFH: Yes. This can’t be the pinnacle.
DB: It’s now been 40 years since TV show Threads was aired (depicting a nuclear attack on UK soil). As time went on, I though, maybe we’ll be alright. Now, maybe not.
PFH: I’m optimistic we’ll get through it, but what will we look like coming through the other side? We need a shake-up of some kind.
DB: Do you think the UK would accept a world government?
PFH: Not likely. We were in a European government, now we’ve left it. America barely accepts their own. If energy consumption would be controlled, a lot of your trouble would be gone. If we had more economic distribution, we could do better.
DB: You had off-world colonisation in your books.
PFH: The thing with colonisation, it’s not for the majority. Colonisation is not the panacea. It’s no good just having it. People have to live well.
DB: Given the state of the Manchester trams, I’m not sure we’re there yet.
The chat rotates back to Hamilton’s earliest forays into writing.
PFH: When I start reading SF, I was consumed by it. I thought, this is what I wanted to do. Then I went home, and at 26 I bought a typewriter, just as AMSTRAD came out.
DB: You started with short stories.
PFH: I did. Don’t ask me to write one now.
(Hamilton’s latest novel, like the last few, edges 900 pages.)
DB: Were you reading the classics? Asimov?
PFH: Yes. Other stuff too, but it was Arthur C Clarke’s Rendezvous with Rama that drew me in.
DB: How long did it take to find your own voice and style?
PFH: I first sold a story to Fear magazine, then decided to do a novel.
DB: Do you get asked about techniques?
PFH: Yes, but you can’t pass it on. I’m grateful that a lot of my short stories can’t be found. There’s one guy in Australia who claims he’s found a few.
DB: Do you deal with the Tyranny of the Blank Page?
PFH: No. It’s down to technique. I know how to write the next chapter, sometimes writing into the night. I’ll write something every day.
DB: How long does the first draft take?
PFH: Drafts are from the typewriter era. I’ll review in the morning, afternoon, and evening. When it goes to the publisher it’s as good as I can get it. You can only do this with a word processor.
Part 2 soon.
