Mid-Cruise Check-in 2025
It’s Sunday. I think. When you’re on a cruise, it is really easy to lose track of which day of the week it is. Fortunately, crew go into the elevators and rotate the “day plate” on the floor of the elevator. The last elevator I rode told me it was Sunday, and I believe it. So welcome to Sunday.
If I didn’t make it obvious before, or if it is unclear, I’m attending the 2025 Writing Excuses Retreat at sea. We’re just coming into Cabo, though I won’t be getting off the ship. Tomorrow is Mazatlan. The next day after that, Puerto Vallarta.
I’m not getting off the ship, but don’t feel bad for me. These were the same ports we enjoyed last year. Also last year, we did went on a sailboat excursion that led to some really bad sunburns on my feet. I was pathetic, and it was memorable enough that people are still making jokes about it this year. I’m staying out of the sun, and I’m taking advantage of the quiet times to get a bunch of writing done.
Continuing to compare and contrast last year to this year, I am getting a lot more writing on the page. Last year, I played a bunch of board games and hung out with my friends. It’s what I needed the most. This year, I still need that, but I also need to get the next Mel Walker story finished. I’m really hoping to get the first draft done before the end of the year. It would be neat to publish it at Baycon 2026, but that might not be in the cards. I don’t know yet. Have to finish the story first and see.
I’m writing this post as a way of priming the pump, as it were. I’m less than 500 words away from a scene I’ve been looking forward to for a long time. I’m really excited to get to it and the character that will be introduced. I would tell you more, but I don’t want to spoil anything. It’s going to be special.
It seems like every year, I hit an emotional low point on the cruise. Something happens, someone says or does something, and I have to go off and process for a little while. I’m going through that now.
The event this for this year took place at dinner last night. Dinners during the retreat are special. We’re assigned a different table each night of the cruise, forcing us to mingle with different people. Instructors are then able to spread their time and attention more evenly across all the attendees. It’s a well executed system. Fun for extroverts, a little bit of a social challenge for introverts. I like the system. I go into each meal with the aim of making each person at the table feel heard.
Last night, the chemistry at the table was a bit off. There was at least one really strong personality that kept crushing the conversations and bringing it back to them. This is something I’m terrified I’ll do myself, and I try really hard not to be that person.
At the end of the dinner, Melissa and I were sort of exhausted. We talked about it this morning, and Melissa said she was close to getting up and leaving the table last night. She really didn’t have a good time. That sucks, and it recontextualizes the whole evening for me.
Maybe there’s a lesson I can pull from the experience.
Across the hall from me at this moment, Mary Robinette is teaching a class on tension. I feel like I have a handle on that in my writing, so I opted to go in one of the other conference rooms and write. Is there something I can pull together from last night’s dinner debacle, and relate it to the idea of presenting tension in stories?
I believe the first tool the writer can reach for when building tension is empathy. The reader tends to feel what the character feels. Do something to the main character that makes them tense, and the reader will feel it, too.
If I were the viewpoint character in last night’s dinner debacle, there would be descriptions of me taking a drink in order to swallow my words. Moments of me stopping and quietly breathing, holding back sharp rebuttals that would do nothing but lower my social standing in the group. A time or two, I reached over and held Melissa’s hand beneath the table, offering reassurance through touch. I would describe everyone’s eyes on the person that usurped the socially dominate position at the table, allowing no other opinion to be expressed that did not match their own.
Without stakes, there can be no tension. The classic Hitchcock example is showing a time bomb under a table. The reader or viewer has the information, but the characters do not. A couple sits at the table and they talk. They can talk about anything, and the person experiencing the story is on the edge of their seat. They know that there is a bomb about to go off, and the anticipation is exquisite. The stakes are obvious in this example. It’s also an example where empathy is not used. The characters feel calm, chatting it up as if their lives aren’t in danger.
Perhaps tension is the product of conflict and stakes. In the Hitchcock example, the conflict is between what the audience knows and what the characters know. Characters can have all the information, but when their conflict is with each other or the environment or some part of the plot, the tension comes from the stakes involved.
Imagine a character that’s found themselves in a trap. There is a gun on a tripod pointed at their head. An elaborate series of strings and pulleys attaches the trigger of the gun to the victim’s arms. They can try to free themselves, but if they move their arms too much, the gun will go off. We can describe this and go through the actions of the character, and as long as we believe the gun is loaded and lethal, the tension is high. If it’s a water gun, on the other hand, the stakes drop, as does the tension.
That’s probably enough for now. I’m having a good time on the cruise. I’m getting lots of writing done, and I’m having fun with this community. If you get a chance to join one of these, I highly recommend it. Next year, we won’t be leaving out of LA. I’m not at liberty to say where the next one will be leaving from, but I can tell you that it’s one you’ll want to do.