Hal Clement's first science fiction tale was "Proof", which appeared in the June 1942 issue of Astounding Science Fiction Magazine (now known as Analog). In 1949, Astounding serialized his first novel, Needle.

His best-known novel, Mission of Gravity, stands as one of the seminal works of "hard" (scientifically accurate) science fiction. The book deals with a space mission to Mesklin, a massive planet with a fast rotation where the gravity varies from three times Earth's to 700 Gs. Strange (but scientifically plausible) alien worlds and incredible (but engaging) alien species are recurrent themes in Clement's writing.

Question and Answer

SPACE.com: Half Life chronicled a space mission to Titan manned by a crew of terminally ill scientists. Lurking behind the scenes of scientific exploration, there was the constant menace of their own failing health -- and that of everyone back on Earth. What prompted such a dark future in your imagination?

Hal Clement: Part of it was the never-ending search for motive, I suppose. Mere scientific curiosity would be quite enough for me, but some people seem to feel the need for immediate profit in order to get moving. The actual situation is simple extrapolation; the intensity of the race between the evolution of pathogenic organisms and other sources of human morbidity on one hand and our increasing biological knowledge and medical skills on the other has been increasing exponentially or faster, and very obviously, throughout my lifetime. It is almost surprising that AIDS has gotten so much attention, since even it has not really dented the human population expansion which is itself an almost-proximate part of the overall set of causes.

I simply extrapolated to a situation in which the race between evolution and human knowledge actually has outrun the population explosion. Half Life is not meant to be propaganda against the varieties of human behavior which favor the evolution rate; if there is propaganda in the story at all, it is General Order Six -- proffered by a retired science teacher.

[General Order Six (basically): No speculation will be reported to higher-ranking personnel unless accompanied by (i) a comparably plausible alternative speculation, or (ii) a detailed procedure for testing the one proffered.]

SC: A majority of your writing has always dealt not just with the scientific details of alien worlds, but the psychological interplay between human and alien. Yet, in Half Life, you chose to focus entirely on the human characters. Was this an intentional humanization of your writing, or were the humans the aliens this time?

HC: I commonly like to suggest (and more or less believe) that life is possible under a wide -- very wide -- spectrum of environments. I might well have done it here, except that the plot demanded a background in which life might just be coming into existence, which seems quite plausible for Titan. It was also necessary to assume extremely cheap energy and construction costs, you will have noticed. I have been assuming, with not too much plausibility, that simple (not necessarily "cold") fusion would some time become available, and nanotechnology/biological engineering, which seems to me to be converging toward a common body of engineering practice, solved the other problem. The humans were, as usual, simply characters in trouble. Without trouble, where's a story?

SC: I understand that you write by jotting dozens of ideas and scenes on 3x5 index cards, then you arrange them on the floor, piecing everything together like a puzzle. Only then do you sit down to begin typing the actual manuscript.

HC: That about describes the technique; compute environment, think of lots of things that could happen in it, decide on a sequence (at least, a preliminary one), start writing. Actually the card-making and sequencing continue during the writing; there are usually lots of cards left over. They can commonly be used for another story.

SC: What about before the index card stage? When it comes to the actual germination of a story in your mind, do you start with a scientific notion, or a character's personal conflict?

HC: That's the first two words above -- compute environment. That commonly comes from a news item in an astronomical magazine or other scientific publication, followed by book research if I can't remember enough relevant facts and a fair amount of calculation or even computation (like the temperature, pressure, and gravity at brief intervals from the center of the hollow world in Still River to a level about 200 kilometers above its surface).

SC: You have a secret identity. Would you like to discuss the art of George Richard? His origins, his tools, his output, his goals -- any skeletons in his closet? (The tabloids are eager for juicy tidbits regarding this elusive and reclusive artist.)

HC: I got tired of drooling over art I couldn't afford in convention art shows, and about 1972 went out and bought some paints. The laws of perspective are obvious, you don't have to be able to draw unless you want to do portraits, mixing paints demands only practice and a grasp of subtractive color interaction, so astronomical landscapes weren't much trouble. I used the "George Richard" name and tried to keep it secret for a couple of years to see whether people would buy the things for their own sake, which they did. I haven't painted much for several years now, and that's been mostly to provide slides for my annual talks. I haven't cared for years about keeping the name (actually the names of my two sons) a secret.

SC: It must be satisfying to be able to define an alien environment in both text and illustrative forms. How often do you illustrate scenes from your own stories?

HC: I haven't actually illustrated any of my own stories. NESFA has used some of my paintings, or parts of them, on the dust jackets of their collections of my stuff.

SC: What artists would you recommend to someone interested in space art?

HC: Kelly Freas, Bob Eggleton, Henry van Dongen, Chesley Bonestell, Jack Gaughan, Charles Schoenherr, Bjo Trimble and others have all inspired me; a fair number of them have given advice, though some of them of course are no longer around for that. I like the work of Edd Cartier, but have never tried to imitate it for the reason hinted at above: I've never had the firmness to settle down and learn to draw.

SC: Sidestepping the popular controversy of the search for alien life in the universe, what would say is the least likely place anyone is liable to find life?

HC: Probably small, sunless planets with effective temperatures below about ten kelvins (I've used radioactive heat on not-too-small ones -- "The Logical Life").

SC: Rumor has it that you're working on a new Mesklin story.

HC: A Mesklin story was requested some time ago by NESFA for their upcoming collection, and written. Stan Schmidt also expressed an interest in it, and it appeared in the January 2000 Analog (title "Under").

SC: I don't suppose there are going to be active figure toy models of the Mesklinites. Wouldn't that be great? Little poseable aliens.

HC: No one has told, or asked me. I certainly wouldn't mind (for a reasonable share of any profits; I'm not a burden to my kids yet, and don't want it to happen. Besides, the [more] money comes in, the more conventions I can attend).

SC: If a magic jinni appeared one afternoon and told you that you could author a sequel to anything you wanted, what would interest you? Shoot for the stars...

HC: If you mean the work of other authors, I'd be tempted to try a Lord D'Arcy as by Randall Garrett, or a Sector General by the late James White.

SC: Time for your summation, Mr. Clement. Any parting advice for anyone considering a future in the sciences?

HC: Remember that no existing theory is complete, many will turn out to be wildly wrong, but before you try to replace any of them be as sure as you can that your own notion explains all the things they do equally well, and not just the evidence that's caught your attention. I know this means you have to learn the present body of theory itself, but if that turns you off you'd better become a short-order cook (no disparagement of the latter profession intended).