Walking the plank: thoughts on writing OceanPunk

It's the story of the civilisation living on the barge in the middle of the ocean; giant floating countries. Getting this down in writing can be tricky, especially if you've never been on a cruise, or even been to the seaside. Luckily, all of this is just set dressing. Your main job is to create a convincing world, and more specifically, a microcosm, to aid your real purpose; telling the story.

My dusty old dictionary and encyclopaedia from 1936 defines a microcosm as 'a little world; man, supposed to be an epitome of the universe or macrocosm.' The microcosm (small cosmos) is essentially the world condensed down to a single location. Be this the farm in The Day Of The Triffids or even the Mondasian ship in the latest series of Doctor Who, it is a self-contained, self-sustainable world that's fully functional and needs no outside help. More importantly, every kind of character is distilled down into those you put on screen. The microcosm is the world in its purest, condensed form.

Of course, for OceanPunk, we've got to get our setting right first. Getting this to work is something you need to sit down and work out, and some things you're not going to think of until it's pointed out to you.

I'm turning to the anime Suisei No Gargantia to help me illustrate my points here, as it's a prime example of OceanPunk microcosms at play. The first thing to notice is that our main character, Ledo, has fallen from space. As such, we have a perfect guide to show us around this strange world and to learn with us. He can ask all the questions for exposition that is clunky for characters to say to each other, like 'you should know by now that Terry controls the lift. He's done it since 1905 *wink this date will be important later wink* so you'll have to go see Meredith. You know, Meredith Naval on Floor 7?' Having Ledo be our eyes is beautifully done, and possibly the best way to do it. Having this kind of character shouldn't be shied away from; they are how we see this new world. Why do you think all but two Holmes stories are narrated by Dr Watson?

As we see more of the ship Gargantia, we notice things. Being on the ocean, almost everything is lined with rust and flaking paint. This isn't discussed explicitly, but it doesn't need to be because we can drop it in casually, 'I wandered past rusted crates and flaking paint', or something like that. When building up this world quickly, the more subtly you can do it, the better. Gargantia uses the well known writing phrase 'show don't tell' to the extreme, and anyway, I've always felt that if you can tell something is exposition or explaining an aspect of a world, then it's not hidden well enough.

In episode 2 we see a thriving marketplace filled with all sorts of meats and fruits. We haven't been shown a field, or cattle, or even an orchard, but this marketplace tells us that they have everything they need to keep an agricultural community alive. This is later confirmed with a conversation between Ledo and Amy where they discuss the rearing of animals for meat. We don't have to be told they do this because we already know, and we can go straight for the theological discussions. We also see flocks of gulls circling above, so we know the vegetation they have is enough to sustain wildlife, more than just those specifically bred by humans. This kind of world building through very subtle means is perfect for this kind of OceanPunk because, with such a lot of explaining to do of your brand new world, you can cut out some of that clunky exposition and get straight to your storytelling.

And when it comes to storytelling, you're going to need your antagonist, and realistically you have three places to choose from. Rival ships, which takes you to the close border of PiratePunk (pirates also appear in Gargantia), under the ocean threats in a vaguely Cthulhu-like vein, or danger from within the ships themselves.

The second book in the Pendragon series, The Lost City Of Faar has protagonist Bobby Pendragon searching for a sunken city to collect an antidote to save the ship cities from a virus. Here, the threat is very much from within the ship itself, and this presents us with one of the great paranoias inherent in the microcosm. In this case, the ship acts as a kind of closed circle from a crime thriller, where the threat isn't from some outside 'other', but from 'within'. Andrew Tudor described this kind of difference as 'secure' versus 'paranoid' horror, and even if it's only a theory to have in the periphery, it is a very nice differentiation to be aware of.

Tudor described the difference as follows:

'In the world of 'secure horror', traditional contrasts hold sway: life/death, secular/supernatural, normal/abnormal physical matter and human/alien. ...In the contrasting world of 'paranoid horror' the principal oppositions are more internal in their emphasis... Conscious/unconscious, normal/abnormal sexuality, social order/social disorder, sanity/insanity and health/disease...' (p.104).

The Lost City of Faar's OceanPunk microcosm allows the exploration of the health/disease aspect with the viral infection, and this brings about the constant threat of social disorder. Onboard one of these ships it is important that everyone works together, as we see in Gargantia. But if something were to happen, it would be possible to add in the other aspects, very easily the sanity/insanity aspect brought on by social unrest and the infection affecting the mind. Other aspects can be brought in as and when. This theory shouldn't be taken for granted as the worlds of 'secure' and 'paranoid' can cross and frequently do, but it's a good starting point when looking at your own work and seeing what other aspects you can link in.

In conclusion, OceanPunk allows for two simultaneous things to occur. We can use it as a vehicle to build up a great world of unlimited imagination, using subtle world building techniques summed up perfectly in the favourite writing axiom 'show, don't tell'. And also we can use these vast, floating continents to hem our characters in, using the ocean's harsh, constantly changing nature to lock us in, such as in And Then There Were None, to present a claustrophobic setting of Tudor-like paranoid storytelling.

Both of these things will of course be subject to the specific story and writer, but bearing these observations in mind will, I think, help improve whatever OceanPunk story you create.

-Copyright Kieran Judge

-Known on Wattpad as CelestriaUniverse