Imaginative Approaches to Science Writing

by Barbara Melville, Writer in Residence at the MRC Centre for Regenerative Medicine

I was delighted to spend time with the ESRC Genomics Policy and Research Forum, where I prepared and ran a full-day workshop called Nonfiction for Science – Imaginative Approaches to Science Writing. I was fortunate to be co-facilitating with fabulous writer and comedian Siân Bevan, and working with a group of receptive and talented students. Together we explored the theory and practice of creative nonfiction, and its place in communicating science.

Creative nonfiction, like any genre, does a cunning job of resisting definition. Broadly, the aim is to communicate the facts with literary style. These narratives often include personal journeys, like in Primo Levi’s The Periodic Table and Lone Frank’s My Beautiful Genome. But despite the demand for imaginative science writing, there’s a paucity of such works. My guess is people are interested, but don’t feel they have the tools. After all, if you’re used to academic writing, or your background isn’t science, how do you get started? How can you combine fact with subjectivity?

These were among many questions we tackled throughout the day. We worked on drafting personal essays, allowing ourselves to play with ideas before questioning what we’d produced. We studied the underlying principles of narration, including why people tell stories, how to keep writing consistent, and how to combine personal and impersonal information. After lunch, we had a refreshing discussion on accuracy and accessibility in science communication, before spending the final hour reading, rewriting, and brainstorming ideas for essays.

I was thrilled this workshop was so popular, and that I got to run another in partnership with the Beltane Public Engagement Network and the Roslin Institute. I’m now pursuing a website dedicated to this kind of writing, and I hope to run more workshops in the future. I can’t overstate how grateful I am to everyone at the Genomics Forum, our hard-working attendees, my awesome co-facilitators, the Beltane Network and the Roslin Institute for their unending guidance and support in putting these events together. Here’s to many more.

The stories have been told. Ann Lingard

by Ann Lingard - Novelist, journalist, former ESRC Genomics Forum Visiting Research Fellow

Two hundred people had booked tickets for our "Tell them our stories" event in the Anatomy Lecture Theatre! Why so many? Someone commented that people have always been fascinated by the exhibits in the Surgeons' Hall Museum; it has long been one of the City's 'must-see' places, and indeed, the Tansey & Mekie 'History of the Museum' (1978) refers to a time when 'Visitors of the lower classes, mechanics, sailors and soldiers have uniformly been quiet, careful and most orderly…visitors of the lower classes seem to take more interest in the specimens than those of the higher, many of whom, especially ladies, merely walk through the rooms without looking at the objects particularly.'

The programme included me talking about my background research on some of the exhibits, and reading extracts from my partly fictionalised stories of the 'donors'; poet and novelist Diana Hendry talking about her work as Writer in Residence at Dumfries Infirmary, and how she had come to write a poem about the Museum's 'Man with Three Legs'; and Andrew Connell, the Museum's Collections Manager, talking – in front of a background of constantly changing images from the Collection – about new uses for the Collection.

So the three of us represented a broad range of interests in the exhibits, perhaps appealing to a mix of medical historians, poets, writers, ethicists and scientists.

The Pressure to Write - A L Kennedy, 13 August 2012

Genomics Forum blogging team at the Edinburgh International Book Festival 2012
Blog by Hazel McHaffie

Some people seem to have a kind of superhuman capacity to be creative: AL Kennedy is one of them. A stand-up comedian, as well as a teacher of creative writing, as well as a writer, she's recently recovered from an illness ('that made my bone marrow disappear'), but still managed to bring out an award-winning novel last year - The Blue Book - and to pen a series of funny but perceptive essays on the challenges facing authors today. An exhausting schedule by any standard.

She has a reputation for writing dark, intense, melancholic stories; she 'doesn't really do happiness', and she 'despises Hollywood endings'. But listening to her, it's hard to reconcile ALK as performer, with ALK as writer. Indeed her answers to the audience border on the superficial and frivolous at times, and don't always do justice to the erudition behind some of the questions. I read some of her essays, 'AL Kennedy on Writing' in the Guardian and marvelled at the brilliant way she has of teasing out the humbug from the reality of life as a writer, and I liked her gritty honesty. Those insights were missing for me in her verbal presentation, the comedian eclipsing the thoughtful analyst.

Hazel McHaffie - telling an ethical tale

Hazel McHaffie in conversation with Dr Shawn Harmon

Blog by Hazel McHaffie

I was delighted to work alongside the good folk of the ESRC Genomics Policy and Research Forum recently on one of their Social Sessions, giving the public an opportunity to discuss topics related to social science research with individuals who are exploring these issues in different ways. The Forum's thinking and aims very much reflect my own, and they're a lovely friendly bunch of people.

I was invited because I'm a novelist, but a novelist with an agenda. My principal objective is to encourage people to engage with the issues thrown up by modern medicine, because these topics are exciting and affect us all, and the way we respond to them affects the kind of society we live in. But I want the books to be as accessible for the man/woman in the street who's looking for a gripping tale to escape into, as well as a useful teaching tool for philosophers and ethicists - an enjoyable read first, but also challenging. So how did I get here?

In a former life I was a nurse and midwife. As a clinician I couldn't help but be aware that in medicine we keep pushing back the boundaries of what's possible, but on the coalface there are big consequences for patients, relatives, doctors and nurses, and huge questions to be faced. How far should we go to save wee Tommy's life? How big a risk should we take with Jenny's treatment? How valuable is my life now: do I really want to extend it further?

It was while I was working in a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit that these challenges hit me most powerfully. I hunted for answers but could find very few, and the discovery of that gap took me out of clinical practice into research. Studying for a PhD in Social Sciences at Edinburgh University gave me the requisite skills to explore these difficult topics and I spent over twenty years investigating the impact on real families of the big questions about life and death. I loved it. Explorer, detective, confidante, writer, campaigner, all rolled into one! Brilliant.

My last study involved interviewing 109 bereaved parents about the decisions relating to how far we should go in treating extremely small sick infants. Spending years with these ordinary families going through extraordinary experiences, listening to their stories, changed me for ever. And their voice was so powerful that the report of this study (Crucial Decisions at the Beginning of Life) was voted Medical Book of the Year by the BMA in 2002.

But that experience was a turning point in a different way too. I realised I could never do another piece of research more poignant or more significant than that. And I’d always promised myself I'd depart on a high, not fizzle out, a dinosaur on the conference circuit. So I changed tack again.

Whilst lecturing on my research both in this country and abroad I'd become very aware that the theoretical subject of medical ethics sent people to sleep (literally!); the practical realities had them on the edge of their seats. Ahah! Everyone loves a story. The idea for novels in this area took root. This would be my next adventure.

I published my first novel in 1994 but shudder now recalling it. I made the mistake of thinking writing fiction was very much like non-fiction. It isn't. And I'd dearly like to bury that first book beyond recall. I subsequently undertook a creative writing course, and later still acquired an editor - both invaluable for honing the necessary skills.

I've just published my seventh novel, Saving Sebastian, about a little lad of four who has a fatal form of anaemia, and his parents are wanting to create an embryo who's the same tissue type to provide stem cells to save Sebastian's life - a saviour sibling. Of course it's all wrapped up in a tale of mystery and skulduggery and conflicting relationships. But essentially each of my novels revolves around a different ethical dilemma; each with its own challenges. My website (www.hazelmchaffie.com) captures the feel:

• An infertile man, a desperate woman … why not use a sperm donor? (Paternity)
• In a coma for years … so how is she pregnant? (Vacant Possession)
• A fatal disease, a haunting secret … would you help him die? (Right to Die)
• Security or truth … which would you choose for your dementing mother? (Remember Remember)

I've had to work hard at achieving a balance between the story line and the facts and arguments. It's essential that the information is accurate and authentic and I get experts to scrutinise every detail, but it's just as important that the story hooks the reader in, or they won't even start to engage with the issues. I want them to feel the emotion and be exercised by the choices. So I've reserved specific discussion points and links to further information for my website.

It's a fantastic job and I like to think it’s contributing in its own little way to helping society engage with the big ethical dilemmas thrown up by advances in modern medicine. Just what the Forum is doing on a much broader scale.

"Are Scientists Human?"

Tania hosting the writers' workshop

Blog by Tania Hershman, Genomics Forum Bright Ideas Fellow

I had a fascinating two weeks at the beginning of April as a Bright Ideas fellow at the Genomics Forum in Edinburgh, which coincided with the Edinburgh International Science Festival. I could tell you it wasn't what I expected, but to be honest, I had no idea what to expect! On the day I arrived, I was shown my own office space, which was a first for me, a quiet room I could use to write in. And then I was swiftly invited to a conference that afternoon – organised by Gengage and supported by the Forum - on Sudden Cardiac Death in the Young.

It was a very interesting event, composed partly of speakers and partly of small round table discussions and even some voting on issues using a hand-held clicker! Participants in Aberdeen and Glasgow joined in via video conference. I learned an enormous amount about these kinds of mysterious deaths, many revealed by post mortem to be caused by symptomless, inherited cardiac problems - in the shadow of Fabrice Muamba's fortunately non-fatal recent collapse on the football field.

We heard from the Scottish Procurator Fiscal, the equivalent, I believe, of the English coroner/Crown Office; from two geneticists talking about the pitfalls and advantages of genetic screening; and from a bereaved father whose healthy 19 year old son had died suddenly mid-phone call, while he was sitting on his bed. I found that any opinions I may have had at the beginning of the afternoon pretty much underwent a 180 degree shift by the end. It was fascinating - and the next day I wrote a piece of flash fiction inspired by something the clinical geneticist said, and then a sequence of four prose poems inspired by the whole concept of genes and genetic screening.

Talking about writing, the other highlight of my time with the Genomics Forum was the science-inspired fiction workshop I ran on my last day, entitled "Are Scientists Human?" (the title coming from two members of the Forum staff!). The group - of writers, scientists and some writer-scientists - and I had a very interesting hour and a half - we did two writing exercises using science, scientific words, and extracts from New Scientist articles. We explored the session title using stimulating and fairly shocking quotes from Michael Brooks' excellent book, Free Radicals, in which he attempts to debunk the notion that science is purely rational, done exactly according to a rigid scientific method, but instead relies on insight, fudging results, hard drug use and some distinctly underhand behaviour on the part of the researchers!

The scientists in our group told us how they felt under pressure to conform to this "rational science myth", and they feel it does science and scientists a disservice, not painting a true picture of what it means to do science. We were greatly entertained by some of the highly imaginative stories written during the workshop, (I started a new story I'm excited about!), and I hope that the result of the workshop was that those who had never thought to use science in their fiction might look at it in a new light!

Back home now, I am champing at the bit to keep writing the story I started, although the imminent publication of my second fiction collection is taking up rather a lot of time... but I know I will get to it at some point. A thoroughly inspiring fortnight!

Tania Hershman is a former science journalist who now specialises in writing fiction.  Tania is currently writer-in-residence in the Science Faculty at Bristol University, and has recently published her second collection of short stories: My Mother Was An Upright Piano: Fictions.