172 HOURS ON THE MOON // In Which I Talk Space Flight

Rating: Three stars—Good

I’d heard quite a bit about 172 HOURS ON THE MOON by Johan Harstad, and a lot of people seemed to have liked it, so I figured I would check it out. It’s advertised as creepy and disturbing, and I’ve been in the mood for that sort of thing since I started watching The Walking Dead in January. 

Unfortunately, I was relatively disappointed with the execution of the book. So let’s talk about it. 

The Plot. It’s been over forty years since NASA mothballed the lunar program. Now, in preparation for a mission, NASA hosts an international lottery for teens ages 14-18, offering the three lucky winners a chance to spend 172 hours on the moon. However, once our intrepid explorers reach the surface, they discover what their predecessors encountered before them—the reason NASA shut down the lunar program in the first place. 

The Creep Factor. I was, sadly, not the least bit terrified by this book. In the first hundred or so pages, during the build-up to the lunar launch, I felt a cozy sense of impending doom. But the fear factor never got beyond that for me, and it stopped feeling cozy pretty early on. I ended up being more weirded out than anything. Granted, it takes a lot for fiction to scare me, and what frightens someone else might not frighten me. So this could be a matter of personal taste and preference. I just know that I would have written this book differently were I the author. (I personally don’t think the ending is as powerful as it could be, but I don’t want to spoil it for you if you haven’t read the book. If you’re interested in how I would have written the ending differently, feel free to let me know via my contact form and I will gladly tell you privately. And if you loved the ending as it was, good on you. This is all subjective and not a matter of good writing vs. poor writing, so please don’t get your EVA suit in a bunch.) 

The Characters. I didn’t connect with the main characters at all. I understood their goals; I understood their motivations; I understood why each of them sees this as their big break. I don’t think they were poorly written, necessarily. I just didn’t feel anything for them (and upon further research, I’ve found that this is not an uncommon opinion). I did, however, quite like the retired astronaut in the nursing home—a minor character who contributes the only tension I really felt. 

Plausibility. I had a couple issues on this front. First of all, let me just say, I love YA. I have absolutely nothing against teens as main characters, nor do I see them as lesser humans. I am, however, very practical, and it does not seem very practical to send minors into space. Astronauts train for years and years, which is one of the reasons why astronauts are adults. But regardless of age, I also have a problem with sending anyone, kid or not, into space on only four months of intensive training when astronauts don’t get to go into space until they are experts and have been proven to be mentally and physically sound after rigorous testing. (Yes, I know, there have been seven space tourists in the past, but they each handed over about 20-40 million for the honor, whereas NASA is footing the bill in the case of these fictional kids. And the premise of the story says NASA needs these kids to encourage more funds.) It would be one thing if the main characters were hand-selected for their stunning genius. But they were chosen randomly. So that makes sense. 

These three teenagers count as nonessential crew members because they are not qualified for anything the mission requires. They are included on the mission as glorified tourists for the sake of publicity. Now, I don’t want to make your eyes glaze over if you’re not an astronomy geek like me, so I’ll avoid numbers and equations as best I can. But essentially, it takes tons and tons (think hundreds of thousands of tons) of propellant to get your shuttle off the ground and through the atmosphere, and even more if you want it to escape Earth’s gravitational pull. This means a single kilogram of equipment requires multiple tons (think thousands) of propellant. Translated into cash, that’s in the five digits (and remember, this is just for one kilogram). This is why the engineers who build shuttles use the most durable yet lightweight materials they can. This is also why crew members don’t get to bring their personal libraries or bowling ball collections into space. So no, NASA isn’t going to fork over crazy amounts of mullah in order to send up three inexperienced teens and their notepads and iPods, even if in forty years they have somehow managed to cut the cost of propellant in half. (Side note, in case you were wondering: When astronauts do bring music and literature and whatnot, they download it onto the mainframe because digital files don’t add mass.) 

Yes, I realize I have probably spent an obsessive amount of time thinking about this. But astronomy is somewhat of a passion for me (had you noticed?) and I find small fallacies in realistic space fiction very distracting. (However, I am by no means an expert in this field, so please take everything I say with a grain of salt and don’t built your rockets to my specs.) 

The Writing Style. I wasn’t hugely impressed by the writing style itself, and the dialogue seemed somewhat stilted and unrealistic (although some of that could have been due to translation, as 172 HOURS ON THE MOON was originally written in Norwegian). Also, fun fact—I spent the whole book wondering why the writing style reminded me so much of BATTLE ROYALE, so I was really pleased when the author mentioned, in the Q&A at the end, that BATTLE ROYALE was one of his writing inspirations. 

What I Liked. I didn’t absolutely hate this book. I mean, I did give it three stars, after all. Like I said earlier, I liked the initial build-up and the sense of dread that came with, although even that took too long (in my opinion). I liked the premise—the idea that there might have been a reason we stopped making trips to the moon, that there might be something very dangerous up there waiting for us to return. And I am a sucker for space travel stories, even when they’re not entirely faithful to the facts. Also, the story incorporates some black and white photos of lunar landscapes and suchlike, so that adds to the mood. 

In Conclusion. I hate to say this, but 172 HOURS ON THE MOON (in my opinion) does not work as a Young Adult novel. It’s one of those books where I get the itch to rewrite the whole thing because it feels relatively close to the mark, like an arrow that's hit just an inch or so away from the bull's-eye. However, that doesn’t mean 172 HOURS ON THE MOON won’t be exactly right for you, so if you’re still interested in it after reading this review, more power to you, and I hope you enjoy it. 

What about you, my little coffee beans? Do you find it odd that I’m simultaneously bad at math and passionate about astronomy? Have you read 172 HOURS ON THE MOON? What is something that awakens your inner geek? Have you secretly been to the moon? (If so, please tell all. I will pay you in coffee beans.)

A Writer's Diet

Announcement:  I finally broke and decided to join Twitter. If you’re interested, my handle is @adelethelaptop. (Bet you never saw that one coming.)

 

During the 2014 November NaNoWriMo, I told myself I would return for the 2015 April NaNoWriMo and probably write like, a hundred million words or something (maintaining sanity is not high on my list of priorities—why do you ask?). However, after three months of extensive revisions, I finally sent my current work in progress to my first round of beta readers. And unfortunately, as I’m realizing now, my optimistic self of last year cleverly ignored the existence of fatigue and burnout. So, as with other Aprils before, I shall not be writing any new novels just yet.

In other words, I’m forcing myself to take a vacation—forcing, because I don’t like taking a break from the baby I edited during every spare moment I could snatch. Over the past quarter of a year, I unleashed my inner psychopath and hacked that 130,000 word darling down to a measly 60,000. And I’m tired. My brain feels drained—I’m drawing on the last dregs right now. Frankly, it doesn’t help to know that there is much more work to be done, that character arcs need to be strengthened, scenes need to be added and fleshed out, motivations need to be clarified. Oh, and let’s not forget the ending; I’ll need to rewrite that at least twenty times. I love doing these things, don’t get me wrong; I just don’t like thinking about them all at once.

The hardest part of this process is stepping away and resting. I realize I can’t expect my brain cells always to operate at peak efficiency. But now that I’m not writing, I find it difficult to fill my time with other activities. Even though the well of words has gone dry and I’m not sure I could construct another coherent sentence to save my life, the habit is burned into my fingers, into my soul. I’d rather do anything than give it up.

Maybe some of you are in the same boat. All around you, people are writing their Camp NaNo novels while you linger around the outskirts, wishing you could ransack their virtual tents and steal their virtual s’mores. After polishing your darling novel to a high shine, your eyes are stinging from the glare. Or maybe that’s just the virtual smoke from the virtual bonfire. You might be too tired to write something new just yet, but you’re still itching to finish your current work in progress so you can move on to the next exciting project as quickly as possible. Besides, with your story so fresh in your mind—all the emotions and plot twists and whatnot—you’re tempted to start querying agents immediately though your head knowledge tells you that’s not a bright idea. (What do you MEAN my book isn’t perfect? I just spent, like, ages on it!)

Resist the urge and let yourself rest! You are so familiar with your novel, you could probably quote it word for word—backwards. Which isn’t a bad thing. I mean, it’s good to know the topography of your work (this is especially important in case your hard drive crashes or in case you have to beat off an armed robber with your laptop). But it also means you’re starting to exhibit that glazed-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights behavior.

If you want to get a better picture of what this is like, try staring at a block of color for several minutes. After a while, the rods and cones in your eyes get tired and switch to autopilot. You still see the red or the blue or whatever, but your brain is economizing. (Note:  This is a very simplified explanation.) So when you look away, you see a ghostly block—an afterimage. In the same way, with your story, your mind is probably going into energy-saving mode. When you reread after just two days away from your project, don’t expect to see an accurate representation of what’s really on the page. Give yourself enough time to recover, and don’t jump the gun by boarding the query train too soon. The last thing you want is to fall off and get smooshed.

After reading and polishing my rough draft for so long, my brain struggles to differentiate between good and bad writing. This is unfortunate because it means I can no longer trust my judgement—at least, I don’t believe I can. But I can’t just step away, drink coffee, surf the web, and mope around. I need to prime my brain for the next round of edits.

Cue another lame analogy. Following an exercise routine, it’s not the best idea to eat a heap of junk food. Your muscles are tired and strained. They need to rebuild themselves, and in order to do that, they need the proper materials. If you munch on something healthy and carbohydrate-rich, like a granola bar, that energy will be stored in your muscles, waiting for you to access it. What you do now determines how well your future workouts will go. (Or so I’m told. Sometimes my most taxing physical exertions involve lifting my coffee mug to my mouth, drinking the coffee, and setting the mug back down.)

In other words, while you’re taking a break from writing, it’s a good idea to watch what you put into your mind. While it’s all well and good to jump into a bunch of beta reading for all your writer friends (I do this myself), it might be smart to limit that. Now I want to be careful here because I absolutely don’t want to offend anyone. I have proofread some AMAZING pieces. And I learn so much from giving advice—I pick up on issues in my own manuscripts this way. But usually I’m not giving feedback on a polished product, which means the work will have a few rough edges. So I’m not really letting my brain rest from editing as much as I should. It’s important to step back and force myself almost completely out of that mindset for a while.

Over the next few weeks, I’m setting my own goals and assigning myself some homework. With most writing vacations, I build a list of classic and contemporary novels that I plan to read and analyze. Then I figure out what I like, what I dislike, and why on both counts. I pick apart the pacing, examine the dialogue, and weigh the plots. With the classics and other bestsellers, I pay special attention to what the authors were saying and how that might have clicked with the public. While I doubt I’ll ever write the next HARRY POTTER or DIVERGENT, and I think it’s detrimental to work with fame in mind, I do believe it’s possible to learn from other authors’ successes. Basically, my aim is to figure out again and again what it is that makes a novel—how a book is more than the sum of its parts.

So, whether you’re vacationing, writing, or neither—good luck with your endeavors this fine month. And may your coffee never run out.