Hello, dreamers. As of this past Sunday, editing on the final draft of The Ursa Frontier is complete. I’ve done all I can, and I’m more confident than ever that I’ve made this story the best it can be.

These past few months have been a hectic, trying, emotional journey for me. Even after things were derailed by the pandemic, I hadn’t expected to revisit this novel. I certainly hadn’t expected to make the changes I’ve made. But I couldn’t be happier with the results.

With editing complete, my time with The Ursa Frontier has come to an end, at least until after the next round of queries. And as I plan to move on to finding my next project, that also means this will be the last “Pioneer Sessions” post. At least for now.

So I’d like to take this opportunity to reflect on what I’ve done over these past months.

Returning to Samarkand

When I set out to revamp The Ursa Frontier, I had my reservations. I’d left the story largely unchanged for so long, it felt like a disservice to go in and start messing with it. I was worried it was just a new, creative way to fall into the Perfection Trap. I was afraid the end result would be less coherent, less exciting. But I was wrong.

Working on this novel again felt like coming home, reconnecting with old friends. And as I did, I learned things about them I hadn’t known before. I exposed the reader to more of the backstory I had on these characters, which previously I’d been reticent to share. Then I went even deeper, digging into their pasts, their personalities. Through it all, the characters of The Ursa Frontier finally became what I’d always wanted them to be: they became people.

Randall Holmes went from being an archetypical folk hero who could do no wrong to a haunted, cloistered adrenaline junky. His heroic brooding was recast as responsibility hoarding; a pathological need to feel as though he’s in control of everything. So when things go wrong, it’s always his fault.

Nina Stark had originally been depicted, despite my best efforts, as little more than Holmes’s girlfriend. The stolid German engineer focused on her work until the Big Strong Man comes along, and suddenly she’s willing to throw everything away to be with him. Now, she’s a brilliant but conflicted woman, uncomfortable living in her father’s shadow. Rather than being torn simply over her feelings for Holmes, she finds herself questioning her own identity, wondering if she’s built her career in ESA simply to try to replace what she’d lost.

And William Ford might have had it the worst. The goofy, likeable nerd, I’d largely tossed him away early on. Now, I’ve shown that he has his own life, his own friends, his own family beyond just being Rand’s sidekick.

Now, much of the final phase of the story revolves around the effect prior events has had on the three primary characters. I dug into how their experiences changed them, and set things up for them to grow into who they’re meant to be in the next novel.

I slowed the pacing to account for greater interiority. I added more action to keep the story from feeling sedentary. I gave the readers more of what I’m sure they’ll want (life-and-death situations, messy emotions, and of course alien dinosaurs). The end result wasn’t the story I’d set out to write. But it was the story I’d wanted. Looking back, I just hadn’t known how to write it. Until now.

For the first time since my very first novel, I let myself be me. And through that, I let myself be the characters. While writing Wide Horizon years ago, I used to tell people I could carry on a conversation as any of the characters, male or female, major or minor. It took far too long to realize I wasn’t able to do that with The Ursa Frontier. Not before now, anyway.

I’d expected to feel a sense of letdown once everything was finished. I’ve said goodbye to The Ursa Frontier again. And though I’ll likely make changes between future rounds of queries, I’m certain those changes will be minor. So I’m saying goodbye for the last time.

But I don’t feel sad. I feel proud of what I’ve done, relieved to finally be finished, eager to move on. And I know that I’m not really saying “goodbye” to my old friends; the characters of The Ursa Frontier. I have a lot more of these stories yet to come. So it’s more of a “so long for now”.

For now, however, I plan to switch gears. I intend to start work this week on Aquarius 1. I’m looking forward to trying something totally different. But it helps to know that I will, sooner than later, return to Samarkand.

Until then, as always, dare to dream. – MK