
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.
|