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Advice from top science writers
 
 

 

 

 

 

24 Nov 1993, The Daily Telegraph

A letter to myself, aged 22

Prof Michael Rowan-Robinson reaches across time to launch The Daily Telegraph Young Science Writer Compertition.

By Prof Michael Rowan-Robinson

12 Tottenham Street, a tenement on the fringes of Bloomsbury, in London, was remarkable both for its squalor and for the vitality of the community which lived there. In 1965 that included me, an impecunious research student. The rooms had no water, the one bathroom was full of rubbish, as was the space under the stairs. This was almost the cause of our all being burnt alive during a minicab war.

One firm operated from a room on the first floor and rivals tended to resort to murderous assaults on one another. I happened to come out of my room one day in time to see smoke rising from the rubbish in the stairwell and summon help.

At about that time, I was writing my first piece for the scientific magazine 'New Scientist'. It was while I was struggling to compose the article that I received the following strange letter of advice . . . Dear M, YOU WILL be surprised to receive this letter from the future.

Its apparent violation of the linearity of time should alert you to the single most important quality in science writing, as in all writing: imagination. Look at the marvellous way the father of science journalism, Edgar Allan Poe, illuminates his scientific themes with his febrile imagination. His best stories are those that take the greatest liberties with reality and are blatant hoaxes. But beware! Poe would have trouble getting published in today's science magazines or the science pages of newspapers.

These are staid times, and wild humour is out of fashion, so keep Poe as an inspiration rather than a model.

How to start your feature? At first sight it seems important to choose a good subject, one that is exciting, topical and newsworthy. But in some ways the subject is less important than how you treat it: whatever subject you choose, you need to make it sound fresh and new.

Try to imagine the headline above the piece, something eye-catching. If you have a good enough headline, the feature will almost write itself. I see you're trying to write something on a paper about radio-galaxies. That's fine: astronomy, medicine and the environment are the subjects the media most readily finds space for.

But have you thought about ringing up the authors of the paper and asking them some questions about their work? Then you can write: "At her laboratory today, Professor Jones said: 'We are very excited about these observations and . . .' " It adds a topicality, immediacy, authenticity, and authority to your piece. You had better report Professor Jones accurately, because next month she may win the Nobel Prize and you will desperately want to interview her.

Be clear in your mind who you are writing for. Every magazine and newspaper has its own style and readership. For 'New Scientist' you can assume that its readers have studied some science at school. But for The Daily Telegraph? Best to assume your readers know absolutely nothing but are both intelligent and extremely curious.

It might seem to be a good idea to look at past examples of the genre you are trying to write. But deep down I think that's a bad idea because then you'll simply end up writing a pastiche of what has been done before. What we all want to read is an individual new voice, someone with integrity and something to say.

What lies ahead for you as a science-writer? Well, there have been some changes between 1965 and 1993. The good news is that much more space is given to science in magazines and newspapers. Most of the quality papers now have a weekly science page (why not a daily science page - surely science is sufficiently important in our lives to merit this?). The bad news for you as an aspiring science-writer is that there are now any number of good freelance science writers. In 1965 it was easy to get your first pieces into 'New Scientist'. Today you might have to elbow your way past some experienced writers. But my advice to any young writer is: Don't give up. There's bound to be a good story the rest haven't thought of covering. Write your 700 or 1,000 words and send the piece to the editor of the page or publication at which you are aiming.

How to make a living out of science-writing? That's another matter. The only realistic possibility is as a journalist on a newspaper or specialist science journal. You need to be well established before the freelance option is open to you.

Like many young science-writers you feel torn between writing and pursuing science itself. My advice is to continue in science as long as you can. However attractive and exciting the world of journalism may seem, it is within science that the source of science writing is to be found. You will have opportunities to write as much as you want.

Even today, when there are many good professional science-writers and many scientists who write well about their own and other fields, there are still not enough willing to write about science or spend time talking to journalists and helping them with their stories. I see you are still struggling to finish your feature.

Let me suggest that you try above all to tell a story. The greatest science-writer of the 20th century, Primo Levi, wrote a regular column for the Italian newspaper La Stampa. Some of these pieces are collected together in The Mirror Maker. Time and again he turns a science idea into a simple story, gripping, memorable and moving.

In The Interview a factory worker is coming home from the night shift along a small dark alley. In the darkness he heard a voice that asked him: "Would you agree to an interview?"

It was a slightly metallic voice, devoid of dialectal inflection; strangely, it seemed to him that it was coming from below, close to his feet. He stopped, a bit surprised, and answered, yes, but that he was in a hurry to get home. "I'm in a hurry too, don't worry," the voice answered. "It won't take two minutes. Tell me: how many inhabitants are there on earth?" "More or less, four billion. But why are you asking me, of all people?" "Purely by chance, believe me. I did not have the opportunity to select. Listen, please: how do you digest?"

The interviewer, a brown puddle on the ground who comes from a nearby star and has gained its impression of the earth from our television broadcasts, asks further questions about why we spend so much time washing ourselves and the objects around us, how and when we die, and how we reproduce, before taking off back into space.

In this charming story of 800 words or so, Levi explores the theme of other life in the universe with a depth that would take most writers 8,000 words.

In his great book The Periodic Table he uses a series of stories to illustrate the scientific and moral themes of the century. In many of his stories Levi himself appears as a character, casting his sometimes bemused, often judging eye on our times.

There is a tendency for publishers of science books and magazines to discourage writers from including personal anecdotes and reminiscences in their writing. Yet I have found it is often these remarks which trigger the strongest response in the reader.

In my latest book, Ripples in the Cosmos, I have gone much further than usual in describing recent cosmological discoveries from a personal perspective. I think this helps to make science seem more real and human. The events of that book will seem very distant to you. But whenever I am writing I feel very close to you in your Tottenham Street garret.

Affectionately, M I READ this letter with growing astonishment and disbelief. I concluded that it must be a hoax and returned to my article. It was growing cold and I lit my paraffin stove. I decided that if I ever finished it, I would enter my article for The Daily Telegraph's Young Science Writer competition.