| 50 Fiction Fixations Discussion |
[May. 25th, 2012|04:34 pm] |
This entry is a reply to Syna’s reply to my entry, which was a reply to her entry. Savvy?
Long chapters. Long chapters. And while we’re at it, none of that obnoxious hopping around from one point-of-view character to the next right when the plot starts to pick up for the first character. This is interesting in light of some recent, intentional changes I've made to my style. Nick Mamatas wrote once that scene breaks are like a sounding gong-- they have a strong cognitive effect, and they should be used selectively as a result. The current fashion is to use lots of scene breaks, and so I've more or less unconsciously followed suit; but i'm finding myself agreeing with his sentiment, as well as the one which you're expressing here, which strikes me as quite similar, since POV change is definitely a substantial cognitive shift.
With regard to POV character or subplot scene shifts right when something interesting is about to happen, I see it as a cheat or a surrender…the writer’s tacit confession that they didn’t have the chops or the material to follow through right there on the spot. These little mini-cliffhangers annoy me! It isn’t to say they annoy me on principle, but their overuse and inconsiderate application is glaring. By shifting to another scene, I can find myself almost resentful. (“I do not care what these other people are up to!”)
Vonnegut said you should start as close to the end of the story as possible, and I think that is a good exercise, especially when you're starting out; but much is lost in that approach. That is an interesting suggestion. I can see the usefulness of it, and I agree with your assessment.
Story elements that take the audience where we want to go—i.e., that serve our sense of meta justice by meeting our expectations in some sense—best contrasted against story elements that prolong a story by pointedly not taking us where we want to go and giving us filler instead. How do you mean "filler" in this instance?
Here I mean filler in the most typical sense: Additional matter that serves less to build up the story and more to prolong it. The stuff that’s just there. Isolated subplots, superfluous characters, impulse themes. I suppose my symbolic punching bag would be how many storytellers can’t seem to help themselves from tacking on a love story, but love stories are not what I was thinking of when I wrote my distaste for filler. I was probably thinking more along the lines of what we discussed previously, about taking the audience away from what’s interesting to dwell upon what’s not.
It’s important, of course, to distinguish filler from Quality Ingredients™. My sympathies lie with stories that take longer than they need to take to make a point, so that they can do a really good job of making it and connecting it to the rest of the work. That’s the kind of writing I strive for myself.
Identifications of maxima—but without implying the outcome of the future. E.g., the difference between “He was her greatest enemy” and “He was the greatest enemy she would ever have.” Hmm, I'm inclined to agree here, but I think that implying the outcome can be extraordinarily powerful if appropriately used. All too often it's a cheap way of invoking Fate, but it can lend a very potent sense of anticipation and foreboding.
I've been mulling on how to incorporate abstract and absolute statements into writing in general. I do tend to agree that "show, don't tell" is a good basic default state, but I find I appreciate those moments where a story gives us a glimpse of the cosmic perspective.... those glimpses are fascinating clues into the author's grand vision, and nothing motivates quite like knowing the author is going somewhere big and important.
You know…I don’t know why I wrote that. I have nothing against a well-placed use of something like “…she would ever have.” I do think it necessarily has to be rarer than a statement that is more present in the moment, but there’s nothing wrong with it. I withdraw my statement! |
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| Knowledge Draught |
[May. 24th, 2012|12:18 pm] |
One of many perks of living at the observatory is that we use a University of Texas (at Austin) Internet connection. That means I get free access to all kinds of scientific and medical studies that I'd never be able to get from a private commercial connection unless I cared to pay through the nose for professional journal subscriptions.
That is a tap I'll hate to see turned off! |
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| Annular Eclipse! |
[May. 21st, 2012|12:12 pm] |
I got what I came for. We drove all afternoon to Lubbock, picking up Amanda in Odessa along the way, who is passing through on a stopover at her mom and stepdad's house on her way from school in North Carolina to a summer research program in Oklahoma. (It is an extended stopover and she will be visiting us here at the observatory next weekend.)
As we drove north from Odessa, clouds began to pick up. They were small, but filled up more and more of the sky. We had known for days that the weather forecast made it a crapshoot that we would see any eclipse at all, but it was the kind of broken sky that allowed us optimism, for many small clouds in the sky meant many breaks in the clouds, too.
We made it to Lubbock and had dinner, then drove out of the city to find a patch of clear horizon. Our first attempt, at a high school, was ruined because of some clouds right on the horizon. We jumped in the car and zoomed at illegal speeds as far south as we had time to do, ending up just west of Tahoka. We leapt out of the car on the side of the road with annularity just seconds away. You will notice that because of the clouds we did miss a part of the eclipse right before sunset. Clouds notwithstanding, it was just the kind of sky I was hoping for, with atmospheric conditions diffusing the sun and making it easier to look at--and also making it appear bigger than it really is; the moon isn't as badly outclassed in proportion as it looks. I didn't bother to edit these pictures:
 
 
 
It went by in a blink!
I am glad we got to see it. We encountered quite a few people who also wanted to see the eclipse, at dinner, along the road, and at our two stopping points. At least some of them probably missed it entirely because of the clouds.
 
With a huge special thanks to my traveling partners Amy and Amanda for showing up. |
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| The Subject of Silence, and ATH Draft 10 Update |
[May. 20th, 2012|10:25 am] |
I enjoy writing about Silence almost as much as I enjoy actually writing Silence. Believe it or not I have always tried to rein in this kind of meta writing. For one thing I suspect my readers have a limited appetite for it. For another, passions overlap with feelings of vulnerability. More importantly, though, it isn't nearly as productive as producing actual ATH materials.
But when Amy asked me yesterday about my emotional highlight of this past week, I immediately thought of how satisfying it had been to work on that paragraph describing Silence to the Sodish noble. (Argkoe is his name; I didn't mention it. Try saying it aloud, pronouncing both the G and the K with as little a stop as possible but without speeding or inelegance. You're welcome.) If it satisfies me so much to write about Silence, then maybe I should do more of it. After all, who else really cares one way or the other? My Silence entries are not profoundly less interesting than my journal entries in general, notwithstanding individual tastes. If anything, they are probably more interesting.
This would be a good opportunity for me to offer an update on the progress of Draft 10. The bottom line is that I am not going to meet my goals. I was aiming for completing the first working draft as early as this winter, and hopefully no later than the following winter. At this point, I will be fortunate to be done with the first chapter by the end of this year, and I have no idea how quickly things will flow thereafter. It's still possible, though unlikely, that I will finish by the following winter. (Mind you, my chapters are long and there aren't many of them in a book.) The good news hiding inside the disappointing news is that this draft is much more substantial, much more fleshed out, and more mature, than any draft to date. It is almost a completely new work. More essentially, it is extremely well-documented, with extensive supporting documents that presently outnumber the actual pages of the manuscript. Finally, I am closing in on the story I have wanted to tell for all these years. It isn't possible or desirable to excuse the delays, but it has honestly been a journey of fundamental personal growth, and it is hard for me to see how I could have done it any faster.
These supporting documents have a life of their own, and I am looking for a way to realize their artistic value (and in some cases their functionality) in a commercial context.
Meanwhile, I would suggest that if you don't enjoy reading about Silence, you go suck a lemon. My journal! =) |
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| Annular Eclipse Get! |
[May. 20th, 2012|09:17 am] |
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I am going to see the annular eclipse today. Out here it is due to occur at sunset, a few hundred miles away. Check it out if you're fortunate enough to have the chance. |
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| What Can Fit in One Paragraph |
[May. 19th, 2012|04:37 am] |
I spent most of my creative energy this week working on a single paragraph for ATH, and the scene segment immediately built around it. If a few dozen words should take so long they usually have something to do with a certain ATH character and literary alter ego of mine whose name is synonymous with flamboyant Hollywood villains. SILENCE!!
The morning after Soda Fountain falls to the Galans, DeLatia leaves for Davoranj and Silence takes control of the city. Her arrival is a show of force. She rides an absolutely huge red dragon who dwarfs other Galan air forces over the city. It is the first dragon to appear in ATH, which is a deliberate foreshadowing. (A double foreshadowing, actually, because one of the Sodish characters remarks that anyone who sees a dragon and lives is likely to see more dragons in their lifetime.) At her destination she leaps from her impressive traveling partner rather than landing—a jump of about four or five stories that pushes the bounds of realism…which Guards of Galavar have always been good at doing. This marks the first time Silence ever sets foot in the city.
Immediately thereafter she is received by a Sodish noble who had been aboard one of the ships she plundered during her years as a pirate captain on the Sand Ocean. He greets her well and she goes along with him (as well as with a Galan honor guard and several Sodish officials, one of whom is a notable character) to the palace to speak with the King and others. The scene continues from there, but passes beyond the scope of this entry.
The purpose of the earlier part of the scene (the dragon flight and Silence’s jump) is to illustrate the power of Gala. I modeled it after the first appearance of the Executor in The Empire Strikes Back to show how completely at the mercy of Gala the Sodans are—which also provides a backdrop for the fomentation of resistance to Gala. This part of the scene is one of those classic cinematographic-style sequences that I have had a great deal of difficulty translating to the written word. But that’s not what I spent any time writing this week.
The purpose of the second part of the scene is purely to achieve character development for Silence—though it not coincidentally also happens to aid the goal of illustrating Galan power. At this point in the story Silence hasn’t done much yet. Conquering Soda Fountain was DeLatia’s show, and most of the chapter takes place from POVs in Soda Fountain. It is perhaps the first significant action sequence for Silence (depending on how you define “action”), and thus the first payoff for the reader after all the buildup of her character during the prelude and earlier in the chapter. Silence swoops in, takes immediate control of the city, and asserts herself ruthlessly. It’s getting toward the very end of the chapter, and thus the end of a story in its own right. She is, in a sense, the fate of the city.
But what is to discourage the reader from oversimplifying her? Ah! Easy. Supply elements of character development that don’t immediately make sense to anyone who is using a stereotype. I’ve found that one of my favorite ways to do this is to introduce Silence to another character. Indeed, in my “Rogue and Orphaned Scenes” folder, where I keep manuscript elements that haven’t formally been woven into the manuscript, there are already several different scenes that so far exist only to introduce Silence to somebody else. (Each is connected to a larger plotline, mind you.) There is another scene like this already in the manuscript, where Benzan gives the reader Silence’s very first introduction.
I really enjoy writing these. It's never a presentation of your proverbial Darth Vader. Silence always comes off as strangely human and tangible. Sometimes these introductions have an empyreal quality to them, sometimes a visceral quality. Often, somebody dies. Most instances include an exchange of questions between Silence and at least one other character. Every instance includes a physical description of Silence. I find that I particularly enjoy the contrasts of different people mentally describing the physical characteristics of this same person. I’ve never followed the convention of physically describing characters upon their first appearance. Some characters don’t even get descriptions at all. Others get several, and Silence is one of those.
These descriptions of Silence take such a long time to write, though! Here, then, is the paragraph that I spent much of this week tuning, told from the viewpoint of that chap I mentioned who had met her years ago when she plundered the ship he was aboard:
Silence had matured since last she imposed herself before him. Gone now, glinting eyes, half mad with impatience. Subdued now, blurring speed. Mellower now her voice, mellifluous her word. The pirate in her captaincy hadn’t bothered with pleas or thanks, yet this Guard of Galavar introduced herself by them. Nor was her greater portion shown in temperament alone. Her rawboned body had grown, immersed in flesh. What red hair once tightly bound and falling only to the bottoms of her shoulder blades now gathered into a wooden ring at her neck, then flowed freely to the fullest parts behind her. Any trace of youth or inexperience was gone. The once wild captain’s face was serene, her eyes ageless. I spent so much time working on this that I had to go back and spend more time correcting any “overworking” that I may have done. It’s a paragraph that says a lot, and I edited every sentence extensively. I won’t even say the paragraph is finished. Ultimately that will depend on the requirements of the scene in which it occurs.
My diction is very careful and deliberate. Why matured and not something like grown, changed, or evolved? Just perform the substitution, reread the paragraph, and see for yourself. The word matured casts a sheen on everything that follows. It is a narrative editorial that you probably wouldn’t have recognized as such if I hadn’t singled it out. Its strategic value is to help the reader draw the conclusion that Silence is extremely powerful—so much so that she exudes it subtly by her very demeanor, in addition to more explicit qualities like words and actions. And you might notice that the word power doesn’t appear in that paragraph. That is also deliberate.
The slot where the word imposed appears went through several edits before I eventually chose that particular word. Why this? Why not appeared (before him)? Why not since he last saw her? Well, the answer is obvious, but also highly deliberate. This person has only met Silence twice. Both times her appearance interrupted the course of his life in a very intrusive way. The word impose also reinforces Silence’s power, this time relative to a different person rather than to her past self.
The ordering of the words is particularly deliberate. My placement of the word last prior to the pronoun she instead of after it has a formal or archaic quality to it. If it helps put the reader in a more epic state of mind to see the word there, then my placement will have succeeded in its goal. After all, a person’s whose imagination is kindled will apply a much more interesting conception of “power” than one who processes the word simply by calling upon a practical, daily understanding of power.
All of this is just a rumination upon the first sentence. Much more interesting sentences follow. The next three are not even grammatically complete sentences; they are poetic. I wrote them that way as an alternative to pounding the reader with character traits.
Why did Silence’s eyes used to be “half mad with impatience”? Because she is ambitious and time itself stood between her and her desires. She literally could not act fast enough to satisfy her will. But I couldn’t find a good way to say that, so ultimately I didn’t say it at all. The reader can figure it out later (though not in this paragraph by itself).
Why does Silence appear to him to move less swiftly than she used to? Because she doesn’t overshoot her goals anymore. The younger Silence didn’t possess the nuance to restrain herself from acting out her ambitiousness. As a result she moved more choppily and frenetically. This more mature Silence moves only as it serves her needs. She subdues the rest. She’s still as agile as she was before—she did just jump from a dragon, after all—and for all intents and purposes she is still as swift as she used to be, but, at this point in her life she is more deliberate about using her power. If the reader makes this connection—that Silence has become more restrained as opposed to less physically capable—that should build their impression of Silence’s power, because unused power almost always seems more powerful than used power. The word subdued is the only direct hint that I give the reader, but in context the truth is readily apparent. (Did I mention she just jumped from a dragon?)
Why the “mellower” voice and “mellifluous” words? Two paragraphs earlier, her first words to this person are thanks that he has bowed down to her, and a plea(se) for him to stand up. There are two reasons she has become mellower and more mellifluous in her speech. First, Silence has greatly improved her understanding that friendliness, kindness, and courtesy all greatly contribute to her goal of manipulating people to get what she wants. (It sounds psychopathic when I lay it out like that, but we all do this. It is a basic part of our social interaction. The only thing that sets Silence apart is how much more consciously aware of it she is than most people are.) Second, Silence genuinely values building people up. This helps them to fulfill their potential, and creates a richer world for her to live in.
Soon afterward, the paragraph moves on to describe her body from this viewpoint of this Sodish noble. I chose to identify only two traits: Silence has grown fatter, and her hair has grown longer and looser. Why those two traits? The hair is easier to understand and more accessible to general audiences: Silence is more comfortable in her own skin. Loose hair is a classical metaphor for that. Silence has learned to relax, enjoy, and appreciate life more than she used to be able to do. This is, probably literally, the most ambitious person alive in Relance. Her ability to add to herself the dimension of easiness and serenity is very significant. The wooden ring that forms her hair into a ponytail augments this sense of easiness, by virtue of the connotations of the imagery of a wooden ring (as opposed to, say, a golden one).
Meanwhile, Silence’s weight is much more complicated in meaning. The simplistic answer is that people who are more comfortable with themselves usually put on weight unless they have a strong reason not to. (Ironically, people who are uncomfortable with themselves also tend to put on weight. This paragraph does not address that ambiguity.) However, that isn’t the real meaning of the sentence.
At this point in the story, Silence weighs 172 pounds. On a muscular, 5’11” frame, that isn’t particularly fat at all. It doesn’t even fit the BMI classification for “overweight.” However, at this point in the story I haven’t told the audience what her weight is. Instead there are multiple descriptions of her as being full-fleshed or full-figured. (Which she is.) Most readers are likely, then, to falsely assume that she is “fat.” This is a challenge to the reader’s intelligence. I give a strong hint by using the word rawboned, a word that most people don’t know and will have to look up. This is the first description in the story of Silence’s physical appearance at any point in her past. A diligent reader will process this information and understand that Silence used to be exceedingly thin. That’s when the payoff comes: She hasn’t gotten obese. She has ceased to be underweight. Then, the astute reader arrives at the same conclusion as the simplistic reader: Silence is comfortable with herself. The difference is that the simplistic reader is thinking she got fat whereas the astute reader now understands that she has passed into her physical prime.
Admittedly, I deliberately use language that insinuates Silence as fatter than she actually is, so even some astute readers will be thrown off. However, if they are, the conclusion they’ll take is that she is fat and strong and healthy all at once, which you have to know, coming from me, isn’t a coincidence. (She also gains weight through the first couple of books, which could confuse people who aren’t expecting characters to actually change as a part of “character development.” These descriptions of her physical appearance slowly paint a picture of one who is passing from fullness of flesh into outright corpulence.)
Getting back to her hair for a moment, the grammar on that sentence is going to trip some people up on the first read. The very first word in the sentence is what, when the standard word to use would be that. I then follow up the unusual word choice with a long and complicated sentence. I did this to cause the description to flow well with the reader who knows how to process the word correctly. Even though the functionally correct alternative is that, the actual mate for the word what in this instance is such. Try it out. Replace what with such, add a comma after hair (and another after blades), and read it aloud. It should sound like the first three words are an exclamation: “Such red hair!” As it turns out, I can simulate that effect pretty well by taking out the comma and putting in the word what, and, like I said, it makes for a better flow than using the word such. Notice also the mention of her shoulder blades, a contrast of her sharpness with the more heavily emphasized softness.
That intended effect won’t reach most readers. It is a reward for competence on the part of my audience, in addition to being personally enjoyable to write. For my less competent readers, this strangely worded sentence has the secondary benefit of stopping them and encouraging them to spend a little more time digesting the paragraph, if they want.
The sentence about her hair also connects it back to her weight and fullness, which, again, emphasizes her easiness and comfort—her serenity and wisdom. Indeed, I make that same point from another direction in the final sentences of the paragraph. I say that her youthfulness and inexperience are gone, and recharacterize her once half mad eyes as ageless.
Why youth or inexperience and not youthful inexperience? Why insinuate that a 32-year-old character in the prime of her life is old? Because ATH uses my personal sense of the concept of youth, rather than the prevailing sense of it in today’s society whereby anyone not “young” is “old” or at best “middle-aged.” In ATH, to not be young simply means to be mature—to know more about oneself, to have more control over oneself. To be more alive. The paragraph ends as it began.
There is a lot more I did not talk about. My characteristic alliteration and consonance. My playful word choice. Here is just one more thing: Notice the careful, repeated use of the word now. It occurs in all her present physical descriptions except two, both intentional: It is conspicuously missing from the sentence about her fatter body, not appearing when structurally we expect it to appear. (This adds complexity to the work through asymmetry.) Then, at the end, it does not appear because the word once is taking over as this Sodish noble character's reminiscence of the old Silence ends and the narrative returns to the present. Now contrasts with a paragraph whose important words otherwise all only appear once, except for eyes which pointedly appears twice as thematic bookends for the paragraph, and of course once which appears twice. (Tee hee.) The double appearance of once, though a bit of a joke (once appearing twice, tee hee), mainly is a could-not-be-helped imperfection in the work because I didn't want to replace either instance of once with a longer substitute like formerly or erstwhile.
With so much meaning packed into a single paragraph, centered around such an important character, you can imagine why I spent so much time on it. And honestly I can’t call it a piece of immortally good writing. But it is very characteristic of my style, and I do so enjoy creating this kind of work. |
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| The Magic Address Bar |
[May. 19th, 2012|01:49 am] |
I love that moment when I'm typing in the Chrome address bar a query leading to the site I want to visit, and Chrome finally learns the connection and offers to autocomplete the direct URL instead of just the query itself.
There's another milestone soon after: Chrome makes the direct URL the top autocomplete suggestion and actually inserts it into the address bar for me.
This whole process is relevant because, in the long run, the fastest way for me to visit my most frequently visited sites is to type one or two characters in the address bar and then press the enter key, and I sometimes want those letters to come some other part of the URL than just the beginning. For instance, this is the URL to Mark Rosewater's weekly Magic column, "Making Magic":
http://www.wizards.com/magic/magazine/archive.aspx?tag=making%20magic&description=making%20magic
I eventually want to be able to type the letter M into the address bar ("M" for "Making Magic") and have the "Making Magic" URL directly inserted into the address bar as Chrome's top suggestion based on my browsing history. This works! But I've had to endure a few months of typing in "mak" (as in "MAKing Magic"), clicking on the suggested Google query "Making Magic Mark Rosewater" (which is the query I initially began using), then clicking on the top search result to actually get to the column landing page. It took so long because I typically only visit the page once per week, since it is after all a weekly column.
Presently, Chrome has just learned that typing "MAK" into the address bar usually results in my visiting the "Making Magic" page, and has therefore just offered me that URL in the autocomplete suggestions dropdown list below the address bar. At this point, it's still not automatically inserted as the top suggestion. Typing "m" yields "msnbc.msn.com" as the inserted suggestion; typing "ma" yields "maps.google.com."
I'm going to keep "ma" as "maps.google.com" and have the "Magic Magic" URL leapfrog it as the top suggestion for when I simply type the letter M into the address bar.
Ultimately, this is faster than any other method. (Typing M + Enter is far faster than using the mouse, in particular.) It just takes a while to set up. But kudos to the people at Google for cooking this learning algorithm up, because it's very intuitive and I have learned it such that I can usually get what I want from it. |
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| Rantin' Rovin' Robin |
[May. 17th, 2012|10:51 am] |
Poor Needles, it went before its time! My two little cuttings have also both died, leaving only a very tiny, last-ditch cutting. I can't believe they cut down my tree.
But life goes on, for those of us who are still alive. Recently at the market in Fort Davis I had seen these cute little plants labeled simply "Tropical Plant." I told myself that I'd buy one if it was still there when I returned. Well, today I returned and there were two left--including the one I'd been eyeing last time. However, next to it was the Charlie Brown version...lopsided, yellowing in places, roots exposed, and clearly the underdog. They weren't doing well there in the back of the store with no sunlight and sitting on top of the refrigerators. Even its little informative "Tropical Plant" tag was missing. After careful consideration, I decided to get this little guy instead. I checked the tag, which said medium moisture and medium light (55 to 80F). I can remember that!
So I did. I bought it and took it home. Given that this "tropical" plant now lives atop a desert mountain, he must be quite the rover, and I have named him Robin. |
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| The Amalgabeast |
[May. 15th, 2012|10:56 pm] |
In my day I have read, watched, heard, and played quite a few stories. Hundreds, if not thousands of stories. Each was its own creatures, constrained by its core elements, and few tried to be more than they were. My desire to create stories, however, is inverted. There are about five or six stories I really want to tell, currently, and the reason there aren’t even fewer is purely because of genre incompatibility. When it comes to taking outside inspiration for my work, all those hundreds of sources get condensed into a handful of story archetypes.
This creates a glaring pragmatic challenge. My stories tend to want to be not only “more than they are,” but honestly aspire to be everything in their genre group. I have no doubt that it contributes to my difficulty with progressing in telling stories. It occurred to me the other day that I have a very limited appetite for writing short stories, except in the context of some larger work. For me, the best kind of story is huge…sprawling and immense. A short story feels to me like nothing more than a springboard for the inspiration to craft a larger story. Today I was reminded of the same premise during a Facebook exchange about Zelda, where I realized that one of the reasons I write my own stories now is that other people’s stories are never as big as I want them to be. All that remains is for me to acknowledge that mine are never going to be as big as I want them to be, either, supposing I desire to actually complete them. Making that concession is a necessary step to achieving success.
This is also something that Mark Rosewater has reinforced in my mind repeatedly, in his Magic: The Gathering design column. I might describe his take on designing Magic to be that, if there is a story to tell, it will take all of Magic. No one set will ever be as big as I might want it to be.
It is something I will have to learn to live with, perhaps even harness. |
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