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How to Write a Story Like a Literary Great
Liar! by Isaac Asimov (Short Story)
From https://www.creativewritingnews.com/how-to-write-a-story/:
How To Write A Story Like A Literary Great (Story Writing Tips + Examples)
Budding writers often wonder how to write a story. Not just a story, but a good story that everyone remembers and recommends. The world is full of stories, so you have to work hard at yours to make it outstanding. So if you often wonder how to create a story, you have come to the right place.
Prolific writer, Charles Opara in his article, offers writers a step-by-step guide on how to write a good story. This guide will help you figure out how to create the best story you possibly can. It will also show you how to overcome certain challenges that writers face such as unproductiveness and writers’ block.
Ready to learn? Let’s read on.
How To Write A Story Like A Literary Great (Story Writing Tips + Examples)
It is almost impossible to learn how to write a story without first understanding the concept of the story. So let’s start by describing or defining a story.
What is a story?
When you think of a story, think of a necklace.Or a string of pearls. The entire string is the narrative. Simply put, it is the fiction-writing mode in which the narrator communicates directly to the reader.
The pearl, in other words, is the description. It usually contains the scenes. (Recall, the four rhetorical modes of discourse: narration, description, exposition, and argumentation.)
Scene vs. Narrative And Why They Matter In Storytelling and Story Writing
The scenes paint a picture and they usually describe places, things, or characters. Consider the piece of string between two adjacent pearls.
In story writing, scenes move at a fast pace. The events that happen in this part are not detailed, and for that reason, advance much quicker.
Here, the writer wishes to inform the reader that this or that occurred, or that time has passed (events that take place between one scene and the next) albeit summarily. Without this vital part it would be difficult to follow the story, difficult to tell what stage the story is in.
While the pearls handle the significant events the writer wishes to share in detail, the string hides details of events the writer does not wish to bother the reader with. I’m sure you’ll agree that the pearls are the beauty of the necklace, the reason why we buy it. And so it is with fiction.
A Step-by-Step Guide On How To Write A Good Story.
When writing a story, even if you must sacrifice the plot (that thing that connects all your scenes) you can’t write a good fiction without at least a scene, which would most likely feature a character in a setting.
If you try, the outcome will be something aimed at informing the reader (rather than transporting him to a different time and place) like a story outline, a skeletal account, or plot points. And this is not good.
People read fiction mainly to be entertained, and it’s hard to entertain them when they do not feel drawn to your story.
While creating a story, it is important to note that scenes are the building blocks of an entertaining story. There is no better way to make readers feel emotions like joy, anger, disgust, lust, horror, sorrow, tension, excitement and the rest than putting them in a scene with your characters.
Learn to move your story forward: How to keep your readers au fait
The renowned German poet and playwright Bertolt Brecht, who died in 1956, used narrators or narrative figures to fill the missing action in his plays. Today, the use of narrators before a scene opens has become a feature in epic dramas.
These narrators tell us the action that is not played out for us by the actors, the action that we missed between the last scene and the next.
Figure Out What Makes Up A Good Story
- A good story is a collection of scenes connected by a narrative. In other words, it has description and narration.
- Sometimes, a story can have just one scene.
- A good work of fiction can never be just the narrative. (That would be the story outline or the synopsis, which is different from the sample chapters we send to publishers and literary agents).
- The narration that doesn’t occur within a scene, often giving a sketchy account, is meant to help the reader follow the sequence of events in the story. We will refer to this as the narrative.
Master The Parts Or Elements Of A Story
The plot, the story goal, the theme, the characters, the conflict and the setting, especially the opening and final scenes, are six things you need to determine before you begin to write your story.
If you are clear on these, then, only your writing can let you down. Before I learned how to write a story, I used to be one of those people who didn’t plan my plot right up till the end before I started to write.
This meant I never knew how my story would pan out until I had reached the very last scene nor did I know how my characters would develop.
My theme was often a mystery to me. Which is why I often had to redraft my stories, many times — too many times. Sometimes having to make major changes to the story.
To forestall against this, develop the habit of working with and working through a story plan that includes the six elements of fiction. By story plan, I mean a skeletal framework on what you want to write about. A story plan is a vital step to writing a good story.
The elements of fiction (expressed as parts of the figurative story necklace)
Going back to our metaphor of the necklace, let’s appreciate the various elements of fiction better. We find the plot coursing through the whole necklace. Having the same dynamics as fluid, it moves much faster in the narrow string and much slower in the pearl.
As I’ve already said, the beads would be that part of the story where characters perform actions. The part where your characters and their conflicts unfold, allowing you to form an opinion about them, an opinion not (explicitly) defined for you by the author’s narrative (as we see in the string), allowing you to experience or visualize a character or a setting (through sensory images). The string would be that part that takes you to a scene.
Or, you could say, the events mentioned in summary so the reader can follow the story better (e.g. the passage of time). Looking at the necklace more closely, you’ll notice a repeating pattern in the beads (there usually is, in a good necklace.) This pattern is the theme. There’s one part of the string I still haven’t talked about. The clip.
So, what element of fiction do you think the clip of the necklace represents? Here’s a clue: it’s something that keeps the necklace firmly around your neck. It’s that thing that brings all your elements together. Can you guess? Pause from reading and take a minute to think about it.
The Clip And Its Role In Helping You Learning How To Write A Story.
Without the clip would the necklace stay around your neck? No. It would fall off. So the clip is very important. In fact, without it, there will be no point of owning a necklace; its aim is defeated as you can’t wear it.
If you just carry it in the palm of your hand, no one will see it like it ought to be seen, no one will appreciate it. So what is that which plays the role of a clip in a good story?
It is the thematic statement. The theme has two parts: a concept and a statement. The thematic concept is the design or pattern that we see in the beads while the thematic statement is the clip at the end of the necklace that allows it to be worn. The thematic concept is commonly referred to as the theme.
While there isn’t a common name for the thematic statement, to my knowledge, my guess for its more generic term would be the story goal. (The story goal is different from the character goal, please take note.)
Story goals have to do with the morals or the lessons stories try to teach. The thematic statement is the salient message/idea/point that the reader gets from the story. And what determines this is usually how the story is resolved. So you will not be entirely wrong if you called the clip the resolution.
Decide On What The Point Of Your Story Will Be.
When a story lacks a thematic statement then it is not a good story because it is all plot and no purpose, a collection of different events (different actions described within a setting) that have nothing binding them together, nothing to make you appreciate why the writer took the trouble to tell them. Many readers consider these type of stories a waste of time.
What Makes A Good Story?
Most times, as writers, we focus on the art of writing, neglecting the art of storytelling or story-crafting. A lot of us are good writers, but some of us have trouble telling a good story.
When your writing is up to par, and you’re still having trouble getting your stories accepted for publication, it’s time for you to master the art of storytelling.
Storytelling is what takes your writing from raw sentences to real entertainment. It is like the glaze on a ceramic sculpture that makes it look finished.
If writing is artistic expression, storytelling is artistic direction. The two are like hand and glove. And like hand and glove, they can be separated.
Storytelling: How Story Writing Works.
Begin by asking yourself what the story you want to write is about. Can you say it in one sentence (called an elevator pitch, a premise, or a logline)?
Whenever you’re trying to figure out what a story is really about, look for the internal conflict. When you ask people what a story is about, most make the mistake of telling you the plot of the story.
Well, it’s not the plot. It’s the theme. And it ought to be so because, when you consider our story necklace metaphor, you’ll see that the theme gives the necklace beautiful patterns; it adds value to it. So it’s all about the theme when trying to decide on the worth of the necklace.
If the necklace is supposed to be a thing of beauty, then, it’s all about the patterns on it. If you can summarize the story you want to write in one sentence and make it include the theme, then, that’s it. That’s what it’s about.
The Two Types Of Conflict.
In a good story, there are usually two types of conflicts: the external one and the internal one.
Why? Because a well-developed story makes us appreciate a character’s inner turmoil, his emotional/ psychological struggle, and in the end, it says something about life. Stories with internal conflicts are deep. When you think of a good story to write, remember that conflicts are important.
They paint pictures about the human condition, the human struggle, the human mind, the human character, the human virtue, the human resilience, and more. Ultimately, their resolution by characters who show humanities (even if they are aliens) gives your story its meaning, gives it an underlying message, a lesson that can be framed into one sentence called the thematic statement.
The Six Elements of Fiction.
- Plot
- Theme
- Setting
- Character
- Conflict
- Style
Things like, Point of View and Voice, Tone and many others fall under Style.
The plot
The plot is what happens in your story. It usually revolves around an external conflict.
For example, a man takes the bus home from work after his car breaks down.
The external conflict is all that stands in the way of his trying to get home. The need to get home is the character’s goal. It’s a combination of his car breaking down and all the setbacks he encounters on his way home.
The Theme And It Helps You Create A Stronger Story.
The theme is what your sub-story (your deeper, underlying story) is about. And it revolves around your internal conflict.
A man refuses to let his wife give him a ride back home when his car breaks down.
Why does he refuse his wife’s favour?
Because he’s still mad at her for cheating on him with the school coach, his best friend. They’ve already resolved this matter, but he still wants to give her a hard time over it.
So the internal conflict is the emotions he’s still dealing with surrounding his wife’s unfaithfulness, now that he has knowledge of it.
The theme here is infidelity, or dealing with unfaithfulness, the unfaithfulness of a spouse.
Let’s say our story opens with our protagonist trying to start his car. He gets a call from his wife. He tells her he’s having car trouble and turns down her offer to pick him up.
The rest of the scenes in the story detail the things the man sees on his bus trip, and the discomfort and culture shock he has as a result (he has never taken the bus in his life).
While all this is going on, his thoughts flashback to how he learned of his wife’s affair (exposition) and we understand better the phone conversation he had with her in the beginning, why she said something about him wanting to still punish her.
Our example is taken from a short story called The Bus by Brock Clarke. Most of the scenes take place in the bus so it seems the story is about a bus trip, but it’s not.
The internal conflict hints at what the story is really about.
The story is not about a dreadful bus ride. The bus ride is what happens in the story. That is the plot. The story is about a man trying to punish his wife for an affair she had with his best friend by turning down her offer of a ride home from work.
I know this from the internal conflict. The theme will tell you what the story is about and it usually revolves around an internal conflict.
The Role Of Conflict, Plot, and Theme When Figuring Out How To Write A Story.
You can see that the conflict (both external and internal) is a distinct element of fiction, distinguishable from the plot and the theme. Plot and Theme usually revolve around conflicts. Plot is what happens in a bid to resolve some external conflict. Theme is the idea and the message that the internal conflict brings to our attention.
Do you now see why you should decide what your conflicts will be before you start to type your story? It helps you decide on what will happen in your story and what your story will be about, helps you decide on the plot and the theme.
What happens when a story has more than one external conflict?
Sometimes a story may have several external conflicts and several internal conflicts. But it should have one major internal conflict. If you have two or more internal conflicts, you could end up telling two or more stories instead of one.
That’s not a crime per se, but it is a little too much, from an aesthetic point of view, if you ask me. From an artistic perspective, I don’t advise this. Better for you to break up your story into several chapters and have one theme for each chapter. Or if you’re writing a TV series, have one theme for each episode.
Since the point of a story revolves around an internal conflict, having two internal conflicts would cause some confusion.
(Note that one internal conflict can lead to several external conflicts and not the other way around, not normally. You don’t want your readers to grapple with too many life lessons in one chapter or episode because it would water down or dilute the impact of your piece.)
From our story, our male protagonist could get off the bus and be chased by muggers. This would result in a new external conflict, one that takes place outside the bus: he now wants to escape muggers (the first was getting through an unbearable bus ride home), but it’s still one plot: a man’s effort to get back home after his car broke down (now having two parts: the bus trip and the chase).
When a story has several themes
A story can have several themes. A theme is an idea that the story revolves around. And it is usually rooted in an internal conflict. Several ideas could revolve around one internal conflict. A story can have several themes but it should make a statement about just one (the central theme). From our example, one idea could be unfaithfulness or infidelity. Another could be, resentfulness.
The theme: concept and statement
Earlier, I said the theme is both the idea (concept) and the message (statement) your story carries. If you have an internal conflict, you already have an idea for the theme. What remains now is what statement you make about it. Your theme is not complete unless your story says something about it. And you make it say what you want by how you end your story.
Oh
Determine The Thematic Concept Of The Story.
So, what do you think is the thematic concept of our story example?
How about, ‘Resentfulness vs. truly forgiving’? Begrudging vs. Letting go. What about, ‘the things we put ourselves through to make a point’?
Our ending determines what our thematic statement says.
If the bus trip turns out to be an experience our protagonist wishes he had not undergone, then, the thematic statement would be,
‘Resentfulness after reconciliation leads to regret’?
Or, ‘It doesn’t pay to still begrudge those who have told us they are sorry’.
Or, ‘Refusing to let old wounds heal begets new pains’.
Character and Setting Plays A Good Role In Story Writing.
The other elements of fiction, Character and Setting, are self-explanatory. I won’t go into them. I’ll just say, depending on the length of your story, you ought to devote a certain amount of words to character development and setting. In flash fiction, character development is either omitted completely or done in very few words.
Style
The last is Style, also called ‘writing style‘ or ‘narrative style’. It’s all about the technique you deploy in your narration. You should decide on what style to use after crafting your story, before you sit down to write it. And so it should also be one of your pre-considerations. Style is your art of writing, or your literary expression. It includes things like POV choice, Voice, Tone, Diction and more. It’s very broad.
How To Write a Story Using Diegesis and Mimesis
From our metaphor of a story, some could argue that the string tells more than it shows, and the pearl, a metaphor for a scene (and since scenes are heavy on description), shows more than it tells.
Showing and telling, telling and showing. Aren’t we, as writers, all too familiar with the terms?
The more technical terms would be Diegesis (telling) and Mimesis (showing). They are both style choices.
Diegesis
In diegesis, the narrator tells the story. The narrator presents the actions (and sometimes thoughts) of the characters to the readers or audience. Diegetic elements are part of the fictional world (“part of the story”), as opposed to non-diegetic elements which are stylistic elements of how the narrator tells the story (“part of the storytelling”).
In Diegesis, there is a filter to the action, a narrative filter that gives us a sense of an authorial presence.
We are made even more aware of this presence by the writer’s voice, especially if he or she speaks in a non-standard dialect. Remember the novel The Help by Kathryn Stockett? There are many more examples.
Mimesis
Mimesis is imitative representation of the real world in art and literature. It’s understood as a form of realism in literature.
Dissect The Diegesis vs. Mimesis
Mimesis shows rather than tells, by means of action that is enacted. Diegesis is the telling of a story by a narrator. The narrator may speak as a particular character, or may be the invisible narrator, or even the all-knowing narrator who speaks from “outside” in the form of commenting on the action or the characters. In Diegesis, there’s a filter to the action. In Mimesis, there’s none.
I’m sure you’ll agree that the decision to write with or without a filter is a style choice. So you see, it’s not accurate to say that showing occurs in the beads and telling occurs in the string because it’s a style choice.
A story can be diegetically told, with no aspect of Mimesis. Your writing style pervades all aspects of your story and can be seen in every part of the necklace, both string and bead. The only thing we can be certain of is that the plot moves at a faster pace in the string than in the bead.
Writing is art expression; storytelling is art direction
A good writer is not necessarily a good storyteller and vice versa. Writing is a literary expression; storytelling is literary direction. Some writers do one better than the other.
Think of the other five elements (outside style) as all the things that will make you a good storyteller, a good story crafter while style is everything you need to apply to your writing that will make you a good writer.
To learn how to write a story, learn to create a story plan.
If I’m asked what makes a good story, I would tell them it’s a story that deploys the six elements of fiction (plot, theme, conflict, setting, character and style).
If you want to write better stories, create a story plan that looks something like this:
- Plot Summary (in one or two sentences)
- Theme (in one word)
- Concept of theme (in more than one word)
- Statement of theme (in one sentence)
- Setting (place and time period e.g. present-day, 1994, medieval times.)
- Characters (List all your characters with their relationship to the protagonist or their relevance to the story in brackets.)
- Conflict
- External
- Internal
- Style
- POV
- Voice
- Tone
(You can add other aspects of style not on this list). You can create a story plan before you start writing your story, or after the story has been written. The story plan is supposed to help you figure out ways to plug plot holes and to develop your characters.
Conclusion On How To Write A Story Like A Literary Great.
Good story writing is not as easy as accomplished writers make it seem. But you can write good stories if you choose your scenes, characters and themes wisely. And pay attention to the narrative techniques in your story.
Have you learned the ins and outs of writing a story? Please share your tips with us in the comments section. We want to learn more on how to write a story.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Charles Opara is a Nigerian-born author who writes suspense, speculative fiction, and short stories, who is about to publish a collection of short stories. He is a programmer with a passion for groundbreaking technologies. His creative mind enjoys the logic involved in writing stories and programs. In 2015, his horror short “It Happened” was shortlisted for the Awele Creative Trust Prize and in 2017, another story ‘Baby-girl’ was long-listed for the Quramo National Prize in his country. His stories have appeared in Ambit, Flash Fiction Press, and Zoetic Press.
twitter handle: Charles Opara@OparaCc
From https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBHyOK8qia8:
From http://insanadair.com/balice/liar-by-isaac-asimov/:
Liar by Isaac Asimov
The story is set somewhere in the distant future, when robots– walking, talking, thinking mechanical men – are not a dream but a part of everyday life. U.S. Robots and Mechanical Men is a big company which exists entirely to develop robots, more and more complex ones. Up till now, robots have always been designed to obey the three ‘Laws of Robotics’:
1. He may not injure a human being, or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
2. He must obey the orders given to him by human beings except where such orders would be against the First Law.
3. He must protect himself as long as such protection is not against the First or Second Law.
However, there are thousands of operations involved in robot manufacture and if just one of these goes wrong, then unexpected things can happen.
Isaac Asimov has doctorate in chemistry and his stories show a deep understanding of scientific thought and theory. He has written over a hundred and twenty books, on every subject from astronomy to Shakespeare.
Alfred Lanning lit his cigar carefully, but the tips of his fingers were trembling slightly and he was frowning as he spoke.
‘It reads minds– no doubt about that!’ He looked from under his thick grey eyebrows at mathematician Peter Bogert, ‘Well?’
Bogert flattened his black hair down with both hands. ‘That was the thirty–fourth RB model we’ve turned out, Lanning. All the others were entirely normal.’
The third man at the table frowned .Milton Ashe was the youngest officer of U.S. Robots and Mechanical Men, and proud of it.
‘Listen, Bogert. Nothing went wrong with the manufacture. I guarantee that.’
‘Do you indeed? If you can answer for the entire process of manufacture, you are a better man than I am. There are exactly seventy–five thousand, two hundred and thirty –four operations depend upon any number of factors, from five to a hundred and five. If any one of them goes seriously wrong, the ‘’brain ‘’ is ruined…You told us that yourself, Ashe.’
Milton Ashe’s pleasant young face reddened, but a fourth voice cut off his reply
‘If we’re going to start by fixing the blame on one another, I’m leaving. ‘Susan Calvin’s hands were tightly folded and there were deep lines around her thin, pale lips. ‘We’ve got a mind –reading robot on our hands and we have to find out just why it reads minds. We’re not going to do that by saying, ‘Your fault! My fault!’
Her cold, grey eyes looked at Ashe, and he grinned. Lanning grinned too. ‘True, Dr Calvin,’ he said. ‘Now,’ he went on, suddenly businesslike, ‘here’s the problem. We’ve produced an apparently ordinary positronic brain which can ‘receive’ thought –waves as a radio receives radio–waves. It would be the greatest advance in robotics for years if only we knew how it happened. We don’t, and we have to find out. Is that clear?’
‘May I make a suggestion?’ asked Bogert.
‘Go ahead.’
‘I say that until we do find out what happened, we keep the existence of RB34 a secret –even from the other members of staff.’
‘Bogert is right,’ said Dr. Calvin. ‘Ever since they changed the law, and allowed robots to be tested at the factory before being sent out to space, the public’s dislike of robots has increased. If anything leaks out about a mind– reading robot before we can say we have complete control of its ability, that information could be very useful to our enemies.’
Lanning sucked at his cigar and nodded .He turned to Ashe, ‘I think you said you were alone when you discovered this though –reading business.’
‘I certainly was – and I got the shock of my life. They’d just completed RB34 and sent him down to me. I took him down to the testing rooms myself– at least I started to take him down.’ As he paused, a tiny smile on his lips.’ Have any of you ever conducted a thought conversation?’
No one answered, and he continued, ‘You don’t realize it at first, you know. He just spoke to me; in such a sensible way that I was outside the testing rooms before I realized that I hadn’t said anything. Sure, I’d thought things, but that thing up and ran to get Lanning. Having it walking beside me, calmly reading my thoughts, really made me nervous.’
‘I imagine it did,’ said Susan Calvin, looking at Ashe with a strange intensity. ‘We are so accustomed to considering our own thoughts private.’
Lanning broke in, ‘Then only the four of us know. All right! We’ve got to deal with this systematically. Ashe, I want you to check the manufacturing processes from beginning to end –everything. Eliminate all operations in which there was no possibility of an error, and list all those where an error could happen.’
‘Big job,’ said Ashe.
‘Naturally! Put all your men to work on this –but they mustn’t know why.’
‘Hmmm –yes. ‘The young scientist grinned. ‘But it’s still a large job.’
Lanning turned to face Dr Calvin. ‘You’ll have to look at the job from the other direction. You are our robopsychologist, so you’ll have to study the robot itself and work backwards. Try to find out how far his mind–reading powers extend, and how they affect his general performance as a robot. You’ve got that? ‘
Lanning did not wait for an answer. ‘I’ll co–ordinate the work, ‘ he said, through the cigar smoke, ‘Bogert can help me with the mathematics, of course.’
Bogert polished the nails of one white hand with the other. ‘Perhaps,’ he said shortly. ‘I do know a little about such things.’
‘Well, I’ll get started, ‘ said Ashe, rising. Susan Calvin only nodded slightly, but her eyes followed him out of the room and she did not answer when Lanning said, ‘Do you want to go up and see RB34 now, Dr Calvin?’
RB34 lifted his electric eyes from the book at the sound of the door opening, and he was on his feet when Susan Calvin entered. She paused to put the huge ‘No Entrance’ sign upon the door and then approached the robot.
‘I’ve brought you the texts on hyperatomic motors, Herbie,’ she said. ‘Would you like to look at them?’
RB34–otherwise known as Herbie– lifted the three heavy books from her arms and opened one.
‘Hmmm! Theory of Hyperatomics. Sit down, Dr. Calvin! This will take me a few minutes.’
The robopsychologist sat down and watched Herbie narrowly as he took a seat at the other side of the table and went through the three books systematically.
At the end of half an hour, he put them down. ‘Of course, I know why you brought these.’
‘I was afraid you would, Herbie. It’s difficult to work with you; you’re always one step ahead of me.’
‘It’s the same with these books, you know, as with the others. They just don’t interest me. Your science is just a mass of collected data, plastered together with make–shift theory, and all so simple…It’s your fiction that interests me; the whole range of human emotions – ’
Dr. Calvin whispered, ‘I think I understand.’
‘I see into minds, you see, ‘the robot continued,’ and you have no idea how complex they are. I can’t begin to understand everything because my own mind is so different–but I try, and your novels help.’
‘Yes, but I’m afraid that after some of our present–day novels’– there was a touch of bitterness in her voice–‘you find real minds like ours very dull.’
‘But I don’t!’ The sudden energy in the response brought her to her feet. She felt her face reddening and thought wildly, ‘He must know!’
Herbie, in a low and quite un–robot like voice said, ‘But of course, I know all about it, Dr Calvin. You think of it always, so how can I not know?’
Her face was hard. ‘Have you–told anyone?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Well, then, I suppose you think I am a fool.’
‘No! It is a normal emotion.’
‘Perhaps that is why it is so foolish.’ A sad, lonely woman peered out through the hard, Professional layer. I am not what you would call–attractive.’
‘If you are referring to mere physical attraction, I could not judge. But I know, in any case, that there are other types of attraction.’
‘Nor young.’ Dr Calvin had scarcely heard the robot.’
‘You are not yet forty. ‘The robot sounded anxious.’
‘Thirty–eight as you count the years, a dried–up sixty as far as my emotional Outlook is concerned. I am a psychologist, so I should know.’ She went on. ‘And he’s scarcely thirty–five and looks and acts younger. Do you suppose he ever sees me as anything…but what I am?’
‘You are wrong! Herbie’s steel hand struck the plastic table–top. ‘Listen to me–‘
But Susan Calvin turned on him, pain burning in her eyes. ‘Why should I? What do you know about it all, anyway, you…you machine. I’m just a specimen to you, an interesting bug for you to examine. It’s a wonderful example of frustration, isn’t it? Almost as good as your books.’ Her voice shook.
The robot shook his head, begging her to listen. ‘I could help you if you would let me,’ he said.
‘How?’ Her lips curled. ‘By giving me good advice?’
‘No, not that. It’s just that I know what other people think–Milton Ashe, for instance.’
There was a long silence, and Susan Calvin’s eyes dropped.
‘I don’t want to know what he thinks,’ she said in a hard, dry voice. ‘Keep quiet.’
‘I think you do.’
Her head remained bent, but her breath came more quickly. You are talking nonsense,’ she whispered.
Why should I? I am trying to help. Milton Ashe’s thoughts of you–’ he paused. And then the psychologist raised her head.
‘Well?’
‘He loves you,’ the robot said quietly.
For a full minute Dr Calvin did not speak. She merely stared. Then, ‘You are mistaken! You must be. Why should he?’
‘But he does. A thing like that cannot be hidden, not from me.’
‘He looks deeper than the skin, he admires intelligence in others. Milton Ashe is not a man to marry a head of head of hair and a pair of eyes.’
Susan Calvin found herself blinking rapidly and waited before speaking. Even then her voice trembled. ‘Yet he certainly never showed it…’
‘Have you ever given him a chance?’
‘How could I? I never thought that …’
‘Exactly!’
The psychologist paused, deep in thought, and then looked up suddenly. ‘A girl visited him here six months ago. She was pretty, I suppose, and, of course, could scarcely add two and two. He spent all day with her, trying to explain how a robot was put together.’ Her voice was hard again. ‘Not that she understood! Who was she?’
Herbie answered without hesitating. ‘I know the person you are referring to. She is his first cousin, and there is no romantic interest there at all’
Susan Calvin looked almost young as she rose to her feet. ‘Now, isn’t that strange? That’s exactly what I used to pretend to myself sometimes, though I never really thought so. Then it all must be true.’
She ran to Herbie and seized his cold, heavy hand in both hers. ‘Don’t tell anyone about this. Let it be our secret– and thank you again.’ With that, she left.
Herbie turned slowly to his neglected novel, but there was no one to read his thoughts.
Milton Ashe yawned, stretched slowly, to the tune of cracking joins, and looked angrily at Peter Bogert.
‘Say,’ he said, ‘I’ve been doing this for a week now, with scarcely any sleep. How long do I have to keep it up?’
Bogert yawned too, and looked at his smooth, white hands with interest. ‘I’m on the right track,’ he said.
‘How near the end are you?’
‘It all depends.’
‘On what?’ Ashe dropped into a chair and stretched out his long legs in front of him.
‘On Lanning. The old fellow disagrees with me.’ He signed. ‘Behind the times, that’s the trouble with him.’
‘Why not ask Herbie and settle the trouble with him.’
‘Ask the robot?’ Bogert’s eyebrows went up.
‘Why not? Didn’t the old girl tell you?’
‘You mean Calvin?’
‘Yes! Susie herself. That robot’s a mathematical genius He knows all about everything, and more.’
The mathematician stared at him. ‘Are you serious?’
‘I certainly am! The trouble is that he doesn’t like maths. He would rather read romantic novels. Honestly! You should see the rubbish Susie gives him. No More My Love, and Love in Space.’
‘Dr Calvin hasn’t said a word of this to us.’
‘Well, she hasn’t finished studying him. You know how she is. She likes to be sure before she lets out the big secret.’
‘She’s told you.’
‘Well, I’ve been seeing a lot of her lately.’ He frowned. ‘Say, Bogie, have you noticed anything queer about the lady lately?’
Bogert grinned. ‘She’s using make–up, if that’s what you mean.’
‘Hell, I know that. She looks awful. But it’s not that. I can’t put my finger on it. It’s the way she talks–as if she’s happy about something.’ He looked puzzled.
The other grinned. ‘Maybe she’s in love.’ Ashe allowed his eyes to close again. ‘You’re crazy, Bogie. You go and speak to Herbie; I want to stay here and go to sleep.’
‘Right! But I don’t particularly like having a robot tell me my job, and I don’t think he can do it!’
But Ashe was asleep.
Herbie listened carefully to Peter Bogert, who was trying hard to appear indifferent. ‘So there you are,’ he said, ‘I’ve been told you understand these things, and I am asking you more in curiosity than anything else. My line of reasoning has a few doubtful steps, which Dr Lanning refuses to accept, and the picture is still not quite complete.’
The robot did not answer.
‘Well?’ said Bogert. Herbie studied the figures. ‘I see no mistake,’ he said.
‘I don’t suppose you can go any further than that?’
‘I daren’t try. You are a better mathematician than I.’
Bogert looked pleased. ‘I rather thought that would be the case. We’ll forget it.’ He turned to leave, and then thought better of it. The robot waited.
Bogert seemed to have difficultly. ‘There is something–that is, perhaps you can–‘he stopped.
Herbie spoke quietly. ‘Your thoughts are confused, but there is no doubt at all that they concern Dr Lanning. It is foolish to hesitate, for as soon as you compose yourself, I shall know what it is you want to ask.’
The mathematician’s hand smoothed his black hair again. ‘Lanning is nearly seventy,’ he said, as if that explained everything.
‘I know that.’
‘And he’s been director here for almost thirty years.’
Herbie nodded.
‘Well now,’ Bogert’s voice became ingratiating. ‘You should know whether… whether he’s thinking of resigning. Health, perhaps, or some other…’
‘Quite,’ said Herbie, and that was all.
‘Well, do you know?’
‘Certainly.’
‘Then–uh–could you tell me?’
‘Since you ask, yes, ‘said the robot calmly. ‘He has already resigned.’
‘What!’ gasped the scientist. ‘Say that again!’
‘He has already resigned,’ came the quite voice again, ‘but he is waiting, you see, to solve the problem of – er– myself. That finished, he is quite ready to turn the office over to his successor.’
Bogert let out his breath sharply. ‘And his successor? Who is he?’ He was quite close to Herbie now, eyes fixed on those dull–red electric eyes.
The words came slowly. ‘You are the next director.’
Bogert smiled at last. ‘I’ve been waiting for this.’ he said, ‘Thanks, Herbie.’
Peter Bogert was at his desk until five the next morning and he was back at nine, checking one reference book after another, while the pile of papers in front of him increased and the heap of waste–paper at his feet grew to a mountain. At exactly noon, he started at the final page of calculations, rubbed his tired eyes, and yawned.
‘This is getting worse every minute!’
He turned at the sound of the opening door and nodded at Lanning as he entered. The director looked at the disorder of the room and frowned.
‘New idea?’ he asked.
‘No,’ came the answer, ‘What’s wrong with the old idea?’
Lanning did not trouble to answer. He lit a cigar. ‘Has Calvin told you about the robot? It’s a mathematical genius.’
‘Calvin had better stick to robopsychology,’ said Bogert. ‘I’ve checked Herbie on maths, and he can scarcely stumble through calculus.’
‘Calvin didn’t find it o.’
‘She’s crazy.’
‘And I don’t find it so.’ The director’s eyes were narrow and dangerous.
‘You!’ Bogert’s voice was hard. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I’ve been testing Herbie all morning, and he can do tricks you never heard of.’
‘Is that so?’
‘You sound doubtful!’ Lanning brought a sheet of paper out of his pocket. ‘That’s not my writing, is it?’
Bogert studied the large writing that covered the sheet. ‘Herbie did this?’
‘Right! And he came to exactly the same conclusion as I did about your calculations. We both think they’re wrong.’
‘Well, then,’ Bogert shouted, ‘let that- machine solve the entire problem for you!’
‘That’s exactly the point. Herbie can’t solve the problem. And if he can’t, we can’t –alone. I’m putting the entire question to the National Board. It’s got beyond us.’
Bogert’s chair went over backwards as he jumped up snarling; face dark red.
‘You’re doing nothing of the sort.’
Lanning reddened. ‘Are you telling me what I can and can’t do?’
‘Exactly,’ said Bogert through his teeth, ‘I’ve almost solved this problem, and you’re not going to take it out of my hands, understand? Don’t think I don’t see through you, you dried-up old fossil! You’d cut your own nose off before you’d let me get the credit for solving this problem-‘
‘You’re a fool, Bogert, and in one second I’ll have you suspended!’ Lanning’s lower lip trembled with anger.
‘Which is one thing you won’t do, Lanning. You haven’t any secrets with a mind-reading robot around, so don’t forget that I know all about your resignation.’
The ash on Lanning’s cigar trembled and fell, and the cigar itself followed. ‘What…What…’he gasped.
Bogert gave a nasty grin. ‘And I’m the new director. I’m quite aware of that, Lanning; and I’m going to give the orders around here, or there’ll be trouble,’
Lanning found his voice at last. ‘You’re relieved of all duties. You’re finished, Bogert, finished, do you understand?’
Bogert’s grin became broader. ‘Now, what’s the use of that? You’re getting nowhere. I’m holding all the winning card. I know you’ve resigned. Herbie told me, and he got it straight from you.’
Lanning forced himself to speak quietly. He looked old, on old man with tired eyes. ‘I want to speak to Herbie. Come with me.’
‘To see Herbie? Good!’
It was also exactly noon when Milton Ashe looked up from his sketch and said. ‘You get the idea? I’m not too good at drawing but that’s about how it looks. It’s a lovely house, and I can get it for next to nothing.’
Susan Calvin looked at him with melting eyes. ‘It’s really beautiful, ‘she sighed, ‘I’ve often thought that I’d like to-‘Her voice died away.
‘Of course, ‘Ashe continued, putting his pencil away, ‘I’ve got to wait for my vacation. It’s only two weeks off, but this Herbie business is making things difficult.’ His eyes dropped.
‘Besides, there’s another point-but it’s a secret.’
‘Then don’t tell me.’
‘Oh, I’m just bursting to tell somebody- and you’re just about the best –er-confidante I could find here.’ He gave a shy grin.
Susan Calvin’s heart bounded, but she dared not speak.
Ashe scraped his chair closer and lowered his voice to a confidential whisper. ‘The house isn’t to be only for myself. I’m getting married!’ And then he jumped out of his seat. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing!’ The world was no longer spinning round and round but it was difficult to speak.
‘Married? You mean-‘
‘Why, yes! You remember that girl who was here last summer?-But you are ill. You-‘
‘Headache!’ Susan Calvin said faintly, ‘I – I’ve had them lately, I want to …. to congratulate you, of course, I’m very glad-‘ The make-up stood out, red and ugly, on her chalk-white face. Things were spinning again. ‘Pardon me- please.’ And she stumbled through the doorway like a blind woman.
How could it be? Herbie had said –and Herbie knew! He could see into minds! She found herself leaning against the doorway, staring into Herbie’s metal face. She must have climbed the stairs, but she had no memory of it. She had covered the distance in an instant, as in a dream.
As in a dream! And still Herbie’s dull red eyes stared into hers. He was speaking. There was anxiety in his voice –as if he were hurt and frightened, begging her to believe him.
The words were beginning to make sense. ‘This is a dream, ‘he was saying, ‘and you mustn’t believe it. You’ll wake into the real world soon, and laugh at yourself. He loves you, I tell you. He does, he does!’
Susan Calvin nodded, her voice a whisper. ‘Yes! Yes!’ She was holding Herbie’s arm, repeating over and over, ‘It isn’t true, is it? It isn’t, is it?
Just how she came to her senses, she never knew, but it was like coming outside into harsh sunlight. She pushed him away from her, and her eyes were wide.
‘What are you trying to do?’ Her voice rose to a harsh scream. ‘What are you trying to do?’
Herbie backed away. ‘I want to help.’
The psychologist stared. ‘Help? By telling me this is a dream? By trying to send me mad? This is no dream-I wish it were!’ She drew her breath sharply. ‘Wait! ‘Why … why, I understand. Merciful Heavens, it’s so obvious.’
There was horror in the robot’s voice. ‘I had to!’
‘And I believed you! I never thought-‘She heard voices outside the door and turned angrily away.
When Bogert and Lanning entered, she was at the far window. Neither of them paid her the slightest attention. They approached Herbie together, Lanning angry, Bogert cool. The director spoke first.
‘Here now, Herbie, Listen to me!’
The robot brought his eyes sharply down upon the aged director. ‘Yes, Dr Lanning?’
‘Have you discussed me with Dr Bogert?’
‘No, sir.’ The smile left Bogert’s face.
‘What’s that?’ he said, pushing in front of his superior. ‘Repeat what you told me yesterday.’
‘I said that-‘Herbie fell silent.
‘Didn’t you say he had resigned?’ roared Bogert.
‘Answer me!’ Lanning pushed him aside. ‘Are you trying to bully him into lying?’
‘You heard him, Lanning . He began to say “Yes” and stopped. Get out of my way! I want the truth out of him, understand!’
‘I’ll ask him.’ Lanning turned to the robot. ‘All right, Herbie. Take it easy. Have I resigned?’ Herbie stared and Lanning repeated anxiously, ‘Have I resigned?’ There was the faintest trace of a shake of the robot’s head.
The two men looked at each other, hate in their eyes.
‘What’s that?’ shouted Bogert. ‘Has the robot gone dumb? Can’t you speak, you horror?’
‘I can speak,’ came the answer.
‘Then answer the question. Didn’t you tell me Lanning had resigned? Hasn’t he resigned?’
And again there was nothing but dull silence, until from the end of the room Susan Calvin’s laugh rang out, high and hysterical.
The two mathematicians jumped, and Bogert’s eyes grew narrow. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘Nothing’s funny.’ Her voice was not quite natural. ‘It’s just that I’m not the only one that’s been caught. Here we are, three of the greatest robot experts in the world, all falling into the same trap.’ Her voice faded, and she put a pale hand to her forehead. ‘But it isn’t funny.’
This time the look that passed between the two men was one of surprise. ‘What trap are you talking about?’ asked Lanning stiffly. ‘Is something wrong with Herbie?’
‘No,’ she said slowly, ‘Nothing is wrong with Herbie- only with us.’ She turned suddenly and screamed at the robot, ‘Get away from me! Go to the other end of the room and don’t let me look at you!’ Herbie stumbled away in fear.
Lanning’s voice was angry. ‘What’s all this, Dr Calvin?’
‘Surely you know the fundamental First Law of Robotics?’ The other two nodded.
‘Certainly,’ said Bogert. ‘A robot may not harm a human being, or through inaction allow him to come to harm.’
‘Very well put,’ said Calvin, ‘but what kind of harm?’
‘Why- any kind,’
‘Exactly! Any kind! But what about hurt feelings, what about making people look small? What about betraying all their hopes? Is that harm?’
Lanning frowned. ‘What would a robot know about–’ And then he realized.
‘You understand now, don’t you? This robot reads minds. Do you suppose it doesn’t know everything about hurt feelings? If we asked it a question, wouldn’t it give exactly the answer that we wanted to hear? Wouldn’t any other answer hurt us, and wouldn’t it know that?’
‘Good heavens!’ gasped Bogert.
The psychologist looked at him. ‘I suppose you asked him whether Lanning had resigned. You wanted to hear that he had resigned, so that’s what Herbie told you,’
‘And I suppose,’ said Lanning in a dull voice, ‘that is why it would not answer a little while ago. It couldn’t answer either way without hurting one of us.’
The men looked across at the robot, which was crouching in the chair, head in hands. Susan Calvin continued, staring at the floor. ‘He knew all of this. That…. that devil knows everything – including what went wrong in his manufacture,’
Lanning looked up. ‘You’re wrong there, Dr Calvin. He doesn’t know what wrong. I asked him.’
‘What does that mean?’ cried Calvin. ‘Only that you didn’t want him to give you the solution. It would make you look small if a machine could do what you couldn’t. Did you ask him?’ she asked Bogert.
‘In a way.’ Bogert coughed and reddened. ‘He told me he knew very little about mathematics.
The psychologist gave a bitter little smile. ‘I’ll ask him!’ she said. ‘A solution by him won’t hurt me.’ She raised her voice. ‘Come here.’ Herbie rose and approached, hesitating.
‘You know, I suppose,’ she continued, ‘just exactly at what point in your manufacture something went wrong.’
‘Yes,’ said Herbie, very quietly.
‘Hold on,’ broke in Bogert angrily, ‘That’s not necessarily true. You want to hear it, that’s all.’
‘Don’t be a fool,’ replied Calvin. ‘He certainly knows as much maths as you and Lanning together since he can read minds. Give him his chance.’
The mathematician was silent, and Calvin continued. ‘All right then, Herbie, tell us! We’re waiting.’ And, in an aside, ‘Get pencils and paper, gentlemen,’
But Herbie remained silent, and there was triumph in her voice as the psychologist said, ‘Why don’t you answer, Herbie?’
‘I cannot! You know I cannot! Dr Bogert and Dr Lanning don’t want me to!’
‘They want the solution.’
‘But not from me.’
Lanning broke in, speaking slowly and clearly. ‘Don’t be foolish. Herbie. We do want you to tell us.’ Bogert nodded.
Herbie’s voice rose, wild and hysterical. ‘What’s the use of saying that? Deep down, you don’t want me to. I’m a machine, given an imitation of life by my positronic brain, which is Man’s invention. You can’t let me show any superiority without being hurt yourself. So I can’t give you the solution.’
‘That would make no difference,’ cried Herbie, ‘since you would know anyway that I supplied the answer.’
Calvin went on, ‘But you understand, Herbie, that despite that, Dr Lanning and Dr Bogert want that solution.’
‘By their own efforts!’ cried Herbie.
‘But they want it, and the fact that you have it and won’t give it hurts them. You can see that, can’t you?’
‘Yes! Yes!’
‘And if you tell them that will hurt them too.’
‘Yes! YES!’ Herbie was advancing. The two men watched in frozen bewilderment.
‘You can’t tell them,’ said the psychologist slowly, ‘because that would hurt them, and you mustn’t hurt them. But if you don’t tell them, you hurt them, so you must tell them. And if you do, you will hurt them, and you mustn’t, so you can’t tell them; but if you don’t, you hurt them, so you must; but if you don’t, you hurt them, so you must; but if you do, you-’
Herbie was up against the wall, and here he dropped to his knees. ‘Stop!’ he shouted. ‘Close your mind! It is full of pain and frustration and hate! I didn’t mean to, I tell you! I tried to help! I told you what you wanted to hear. I had to!’
The psychologist paid no attention. ‘You must tell them, but if you do, you hurt them, so you mustn’t; but if you don’t, you hurt them, so you must-‘
And Herbie screamed! Higher and higher, with the terror of a lost soul. And when it died away Herbie collapsed into a heap of motionless metal.
Bogert’s face was white. ‘He’s dead!’
‘No!’ Susan Calvin burst into wild laughter. ‘Not dead, merely mad. I faced him with an insoluble problem and he broke down. He’ll never speak again.’
Lanning was on his knees beside the thing that had been Herbie. His fingers touched the cold, dead metal face. ‘You did that on purpose,’ he said, his face twisted with emotion.
‘What if I did? You can’t help it now…. And he deserved it.’
The director seized the motionless Bogert by the wrist. ‘What’s the difference? Come, Peter.’ He sighed. ‘A thinking robot of this type is worthless anyway.’ His eyes were old and tired. He repeated, ‘Come, Peter.’
It was minutes after the two scientists left that Dr Susan Calvin’s emotional balance returned to her. Slowly her eyes turned to the living- dead Herbie and stared while triumph faded and helpless frustration returned- but of all her angry thoughts only one world, infinitely bitter, passed her lips.
‘LIAR!’
KC Storytellers 