I think we need to transport Ann and John into the future.
If you’ve yet to hear of them, and why have you, when I only have three readers, Ann and John are my go-to fictional power couple that I use whenever I have questions about writing. You can catch some of their past misadventures in :
Ann and John Explore Copyrights
Ann and John and Accents/Non-English Speakers
So now, let’s transport Ann and John to the year 2200, through a time machine. The three people who regularly read my blog, my Aunt Gertrude being one of them (hi Gertie), know that Ann and John inevitably end up battling a strangler. So behold, I give you – Bay Area Strangler III – Curse of the Robostrangler
So let’s start with a basic question. As a reader, how technically detailed do you want me to get when it comes to future tech? For example, take this scene that involves a robot:
EXTREMELY DETAILED
“We need you, Ann and John,” said General Jones as he lead the the world’s most notorious strangler hunting detectives into a secret laboratory deep below the Pentagon. “We’ve received a communication from the future. It’s a bleak world where the population has been decimated.”
“How could such a thing happen?” Ann asked.
“Robostrangler,” the General said. “Initially designed by Alpha Tech Corp in 2075 to provide neck massages to elderly nursing home shut-ins, his Nano Brain Chip malfunctioned. A nano brain chip provides both acceleration and deceleration of higher brain functions, creating a complex system of reactions, both positive and negative, and when mixed together through the funnel apparatus of a concave refractal interior nano scope, a robot’s artificial mind is able to replicate basic human functions. Unfortunately, Alpha Tech failed to realize that its product could replicate feelings found in the most evil of humans, and alas, Robomassager turned into Robostrangler.”
Compare with:
LESSER DETAIL
“We need you, Ann and John,” said General Jones as he lead the the world’s most notorious strangler hunting detectives into a secret laboratory deep below the Pentagon. “We’ve received a communication from the future. It’s a bleak world where the population has been decimated.”
“How could such a thing happen?” Ann asked.
“Robostrangler,” the General said. “Initially designed and marketed as Robomassager by Alpha Tech Corp in 2075 to provide neck massages to elderly nursing home shut-ins, his Nano Brain Chip malfunctioned, turning him into Robostrangler. Now he’s gone berserk and strangling everyone he sees.”
Which version do you prefer? Personally, I like the second one. Admittedly, I made the explanation up in the first one. I suppose if I really wanted to get detailed, I’d have to do some serious research into how robot brains work and how they could theoretically turn evil. But, as a reader, do you really have the time to care? Isn’t, “the damn robot went nuts!” enough? I submit that’s enough.
Let’s talk time machines:
LOTS OF TECH DETAIL
General Jones showed Ann and John the X21 Time Closet.
“This device has the ability to destabilize your bodily particles, eject them into the cosmos, send them hurtling to any time, past or present, where they will then materialize. Once you’re in the future, you’ll be on your own against Robostrangler.”
Compare with:
PRETTY MUCH NO EXPLANATION
General Jones led Ann and John into the X21 Time Closet. He set the date for Jan. 1 2200 and Ann and John instantly found themselves in a dystopian world where strangled corpses littered the streets, and the Robostrangler reigned supreme.
I’m torn here. I feel the destablize/materialize your particles was enough of an explanation of what’s going on without getting into the theoretical science of Star Trekian “Beaming” technology.
So those are just some examples, using my old friends A and J. The main question – when the author introduces a newfangled sci-fi gadget, do you want a detailed explanation of how it works, or should the author just make it work?
My 2 cents – I just like to see it work, because hell, I have no idea how have the shit in existence in my life now works, let alone how future shit will operate. You can explain to me a million times how this damn computer in front of me works and yet the best I can come up with is that each time I press a key on the keyboard, a tiny gremlin is poked in the ass, causing it to etch a letter on my screen.
Bookshelf Battle 
I prefer the second examples – less is always more (as it were) and it’s good to get the reader thinking by leaving them hungry for detail. Or (credibly) hand-wave it via a character: ‘The robot went nuts’. ‘Why?’ ‘How do I know? Tech’s tech, why do I care how it works? The thing just went nuts and left a trail of dead bodies.’
It’s definitely a delicate balance. On the one hand, you want your fictional technology to sound credible. On the other hand, you don’t want to put your readers to sleep with a science lesson. (Not to knock science).
If anyone can think of an example of an author who has navigated this thin line successfully please share.
I generally agree that less is more. Focus on letting the reader construct the larger part of the explanations and circumstances. That said, too little is not satisfying. I would actually suggest that you split the difference in each example. In the second sample I would use the second example with a single sentence added explaining what a time closet is in very plain, perhaps even crude, terms. Of course, thinking of Dr. Who, you could totally get away with #2 without any additional explanation at all. If the characters believe that a time closet is a thing, and they are able to interact with it unquestioningly, it’s unlikely your reader is going to question it… Does this make me your fourth reader? Surely I’ll be further down the line than that.
Oh jeez, I’m probably up to seven or eight readers now, including you. It’s party time.
I think I’m going to go with the unpopular opinion here: I like more, rather than less, tech explanation. Mostly because it’s easier for me to suspend my disbelief if there’s a reasonable-sounding explanation for what’s happening, but also because I find that stuff interesting—and what’s especially interesting to me is different authors’ interpretations. Does time travel create paradoxes? Can you actually change the past without drastically changing the future? Can you see/run into your past self, and if so, what consequences are there? Every book I’ve read that has involved time travel has answered these questions differently.
Similarly, I’m interested in the behind-the-scenes when it comes to stuff like magic, too. I particularly liked The Magicians because it described magic as this…really difficult-to-master set of skills (hand motions, ancient languages, knowing how the Circumstances (aka ambient temperature, position of the planets, phase of the moon, etc. etc.) affect your spells), which was refreshing after something like Harry Potter, where you more or less waved a wand and said some words and your spell either worked or didn’t. Theory is *mentioned* but never delved into.
…Anyway, I like descriptions, because it makes me feel more immersed in the world when I actually know about how some of the magic/technology/whatever operates. Otherwise I feel like I’m on the outside looking in.
Wow, if only you could go back and talk to yourself. My past self would get an earful of how to avoid the pitfalls that were coming his way. Oh well. Stupid lack of time machines.
Technology (or wizardry) that’s a big part of the plot should probably be explained, but what about random things? If my character drives a flying car on the way to fight the bad guy, do I have to tell the reader how it works?
That’s a good point, and no, not necessarily, unless (like you said) it figures into the plot in a bigger way than just plain old transportation. One thing that does sort of annoy me though is when a character uses an object that is named, but with a made-up name, and then what the thing is/does isn’t actually explained (this is one of my biggest issues with world-building in fantasy and sci-fi).
So, like, if your character gets into her flying car and presses the doohickey, pulls the thingamabob, and ascends into the jabberwocky, I can sort of *guess* at the meanings of those words but unless it’s explained more, it’s frustrating to me.
I think I’m getting away from the original point a little bit here, but I think that I’d probably enjoy a little more technological exposition than the average reader.
You can get as detailed as you want, just make the science sound credible, and for goodness sake don’t give us every detail about it in a 3 paragraph info dump the first time you mention it 😉 That’s my real problem with extra tech details is that they can drop you out of the story. The science needs to unfold naturally as the story progresses.
I don’t know how have the stuff I use today works, let alone how things will work in the future. If you ask me to explain how a computer works, I’m sad to say my best explanation will be, “Magic!”
But I do think if you explain how the characters are using it, what happens when they use it, etc. that’s great – it’s a fine line, don’t bore them with a dissertation but don’t leave them in the dark either.
I’m with Mei-Mei on this one. The real key is to include exactly what’s needed to keep the reader immersed in the story, no more or less.
In general I’d say the reader should be able to picture the thing, understand why it’s there, and believe that it’s plausible. “Time Closet” does all of that in two words (for me). If it’s a world where time travel shouldn’t exist, you may need to give a little more to help me believe it—and “Pentagon basement” is probably enough for that :]
Extra explanation at this stage is irrelevant and will start distracting me. Extra explanation when we need to figure out why the time machine duplicated a character instead of transporting her might be just the ticket.
If you’re talking about a Sizzling Blorp, however, you’ll need to tell me more so I can picture it and understand what it’s doing there (and, as the case may be, why that’s plausible). Otherwise I’ll be distracted wondering what it is.
Man. Now I’m wondering what a Sizzling Blorp is. That’s uncomfortable.
It sounds more like a bodily function than technology.
Yeah, you know there’s a lot of cool stuff in that Pentagon basement. Or not. They might just keep old typewriters and broken fax machines down there.
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