Dedication
Desecrate my temple with a candle
With flames that burn beyond the final sleep
Incense drowned in a bequeathed ritual
Lit by men long dead for us to keep
Prepare me for my burial with gifts
As scalded wax drips down sacred pillars
Teach me the truths that ceremony sifts
And learn the innocence hidden by scars
Hear cries of children never born as kings
And pay homage to their everlasting sire
Screams of purity torn from time's sweltering
Defile my memory for every missing fire
Defy the spark dimmed by the fall of breath
As vibrancy passes through strains of birth
To read the rest of the poetry for One Shot Wendsday or include your own click the link.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
Logical Plotting, Part Two: Plot Fallacies
Last week I compared plot structure to argument structure in order to break it down into workable components but many of the fallacies that are easy to make in arguments are also easy to make in plots.
Arguments and plots are different in that appeals to emotion are not only OK but encouraged. If the reader feels no empathy for the heroes and loathing for the villains (or a delicious confusing combination of the two for both the heroes and villains) you are in big trouble. However, you can also run into trouble when you rely only on emotion and forget to make anything actually happen.
Appealing to pity –The sob story
Hallmark movies fall into this category rather often. A little girl who sends a father's day card to heaven via balloon is touching but it isn't a story unless it leads to something else or has been led up to in a way that makes it significant to the particular little girl in a particular way. It needs to have a connection to other events in order to be a story.
Appealing to fear --The horror flick
Horror flicks can be entertaining but a book requires more investment from the reader than a movie does from a viewer. they deserve more than teenagers running away from monsters and serial killers. Where is this teenager running to? Where are they running from? Why does one monster scare them more than another? Where will all this running lead them? What is the significance?
You might have noticed that there are two words I use a lot when I talk about plot. Significance and leading. A story takes the reader through a series of events to a climax. That is why I get bored with TV dramas after a few episodes. They don't go anywhere. If you have the concept of events leading to a climax in mind you probably won't get caught up in many fallacies but here are a few more examples.
Circular Plot
When the events leading up to the climax are the same as the climax.
Hero wins a race (event) Hero wins another race (climax)
This can actually work given the right circumstances but it's still worth watching out for. If you do it do it on purpose.
Pirates are stranded on a raft with treasure (event) pirates are rescued and scheme and murder on their way to shore in order to keep their treasure (event) pirates are again stranded on a raft with their treasure (climax)
False Cause
This occurs when the climax and events preceding it are not actually connected.
Girl thinks her fiance has died in the war and gets involved with his best friend (event) The Japanese attack America (climax)
When this happens the reader can't be biting their fingernails wondering what the characters are going to do because it won't actually affect the ending.
Disjointed Plot (Ignoratio Elenchii)
When the writer changes what the story is about last minute without leaving hints for the reader along the way.
Alice wanders through the backwards world on the other side of the looking glass (event) And it was a dream after all (climax)
Arguments and plots are different in that appeals to emotion are not only OK but encouraged. If the reader feels no empathy for the heroes and loathing for the villains (or a delicious confusing combination of the two for both the heroes and villains) you are in big trouble. However, you can also run into trouble when you rely only on emotion and forget to make anything actually happen.
Appealing to pity –The sob story
Hallmark movies fall into this category rather often. A little girl who sends a father's day card to heaven via balloon is touching but it isn't a story unless it leads to something else or has been led up to in a way that makes it significant to the particular little girl in a particular way. It needs to have a connection to other events in order to be a story.
Appealing to fear --The horror flick
Horror flicks can be entertaining but a book requires more investment from the reader than a movie does from a viewer. they deserve more than teenagers running away from monsters and serial killers. Where is this teenager running to? Where are they running from? Why does one monster scare them more than another? Where will all this running lead them? What is the significance?
You might have noticed that there are two words I use a lot when I talk about plot. Significance and leading. A story takes the reader through a series of events to a climax. That is why I get bored with TV dramas after a few episodes. They don't go anywhere. If you have the concept of events leading to a climax in mind you probably won't get caught up in many fallacies but here are a few more examples.
Circular Plot
When the events leading up to the climax are the same as the climax.
Hero wins a race (event) Hero wins another race (climax)
This can actually work given the right circumstances but it's still worth watching out for. If you do it do it on purpose.
Pirates are stranded on a raft with treasure (event) pirates are rescued and scheme and murder on their way to shore in order to keep their treasure (event) pirates are again stranded on a raft with their treasure (climax)
False Cause
This occurs when the climax and events preceding it are not actually connected.
Girl thinks her fiance has died in the war and gets involved with his best friend (event) The Japanese attack America (climax)
When this happens the reader can't be biting their fingernails wondering what the characters are going to do because it won't actually affect the ending.
Disjointed Plot (Ignoratio Elenchii)
When the writer changes what the story is about last minute without leaving hints for the reader along the way.
Alice wanders through the backwards world on the other side of the looking glass (event) And it was a dream after all (climax)
Monday, December 13, 2010
Logical Plotting, Part One: Structure
While studying for finals this week I ran across this list in my logic notes:
Simple Plot
Linked Plot
Convergent Plot
Divergent Plot
Serial Plot
Unstated Plot
I probably don’t need to clarify that my logic professor wasn’t talking about plot structure when I jotted that down but, well she wasn’t. she was talking about argument structures. Still there are a lot of similarities between arguments and plots.
Definition of argument: A set of two or more statements, one of which follows from the other.
Definition of story: A narrative that follows a course of events (implying that one must follow from the other)
Mainly, arguments and plots both must have a conclusion. Even if it is vague or ambiguous a conclusion is what separates a story from a series of events whether they are real or imaginary. However, since using that terminology, almost all well written stories would have unstated plots and since the conclusion is capsulated in the climax, for our diagramming purposes we will substitute ‘climax’ for ‘claim’ and ‘event’ for ‘premise’.
Simple Plot
A single event leads to the climax.
This mostly applies to short stories.
The fox asks the crow to sing (event) and the cheese falls out of the crow’s mouth (climax).
But it could apply to a longer story as well.
Saroun creates the one ring (event) so Frodo destroys it (climax).
The stories aren’t always told in the order they are diagramed.
Linked Plot
Two or more related events lead to the climax.
This is a very common plot structure for novels and, for me at least, is the most impressive because the climax hits and suddenly everything else fits together.
Takeo is being trained by Otori (event). Kaede is being forced to marry Otori (event). Lord Ida Sadamu tyrannizes the land (event). Takeo uses the skills he has been training for and Kaede does not marry Otori, thus overthrowing Lord Ida. (climax)
Convergent Plot
Two or more events lead to the climax but don’t depend on one another.
Mrs. Hubbard stabs Ratchet (event). Mary Debenham stabs Ratchet (event.) Colonal Arbuthnot stabs Ratchet (event). Ratchet is killed (climax).
Most mysteries contain events that only appear to contribute to the climax
Divergent
One event leads to two or more climaxes
Common in disaster stories
The titanic sinks (event). Jack dies (climax). The captain goes down with his ship (climax).
Serial Plot
An event leads to a climax which in turn leads to another climax
Most evident in well crafted series of books
Cabarus is unrightfully ruler of Westmark (event). Theo overthrows Cabarus but saves his life (climax and event). Cabarus stirs an invasion in Westmark.
Because of the continuous movement this can be confused with a “page turner” pace in which nothing is ever quite resolved but doesn’t always build on itself.
Unstated Plot
The climax is implied but the reader never sees it happen
Boy sees girl and smiles (event). Girls sees boy and smiles (event). The reader guesses that boy and girl will get together even though there is no dialogue or action to indicate that
This is what is meant by showing instead of telling. The writer leaves the important things unsaid for emphasis.
Of course most stories are a much more complex combination of these types of plot but, for someone who usually runs away from anything remotely resembling structure, it makes sense for me to think of plot in this way.
Simple Plot
Linked Plot
Convergent Plot
Divergent Plot
Serial Plot
Unstated Plot
I probably don’t need to clarify that my logic professor wasn’t talking about plot structure when I jotted that down but, well she wasn’t. she was talking about argument structures. Still there are a lot of similarities between arguments and plots.
Definition of argument: A set of two or more statements, one of which follows from the other.
Definition of story: A narrative that follows a course of events (implying that one must follow from the other)
Mainly, arguments and plots both must have a conclusion. Even if it is vague or ambiguous a conclusion is what separates a story from a series of events whether they are real or imaginary. However, since using that terminology, almost all well written stories would have unstated plots and since the conclusion is capsulated in the climax, for our diagramming purposes we will substitute ‘climax’ for ‘claim’ and ‘event’ for ‘premise’.
Simple Plot
A single event leads to the climax.
This mostly applies to short stories.
The fox asks the crow to sing (event) and the cheese falls out of the crow’s mouth (climax).
But it could apply to a longer story as well.
Saroun creates the one ring (event) so Frodo destroys it (climax).
The stories aren’t always told in the order they are diagramed.
Linked Plot
Two or more related events lead to the climax.
This is a very common plot structure for novels and, for me at least, is the most impressive because the climax hits and suddenly everything else fits together.
Takeo is being trained by Otori (event). Kaede is being forced to marry Otori (event). Lord Ida Sadamu tyrannizes the land (event). Takeo uses the skills he has been training for and Kaede does not marry Otori, thus overthrowing Lord Ida. (climax)
Convergent Plot
Two or more events lead to the climax but don’t depend on one another.
Mrs. Hubbard stabs Ratchet (event). Mary Debenham stabs Ratchet (event.) Colonal Arbuthnot stabs Ratchet (event). Ratchet is killed (climax).
Most mysteries contain events that only appear to contribute to the climax
Divergent
One event leads to two or more climaxes
Common in disaster stories
The titanic sinks (event). Jack dies (climax). The captain goes down with his ship (climax).
Serial Plot
An event leads to a climax which in turn leads to another climax
Most evident in well crafted series of books
Cabarus is unrightfully ruler of Westmark (event). Theo overthrows Cabarus but saves his life (climax and event). Cabarus stirs an invasion in Westmark.
Because of the continuous movement this can be confused with a “page turner” pace in which nothing is ever quite resolved but doesn’t always build on itself.
Unstated Plot
The climax is implied but the reader never sees it happen
Boy sees girl and smiles (event). Girls sees boy and smiles (event). The reader guesses that boy and girl will get together even though there is no dialogue or action to indicate that
This is what is meant by showing instead of telling. The writer leaves the important things unsaid for emphasis.
Of course most stories are a much more complex combination of these types of plot but, for someone who usually runs away from anything remotely resembling structure, it makes sense for me to think of plot in this way.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Thoughts on NANOWRIMO
For three years now I have sworn to myself that I would participate in NANOWRIMO and changed my mind by the time November came around. This may be a good thing. I don't think NANOWRIMO is always unhelpful but I'm not sure it would be a good thing for me in my current stage of writing and perhaps my circumstances know this better than I do. The past three Novembers, even though I didn't participate in the 60,000 words scramble to write a novel beginning to end, have been crucial to my development as a writer.
November 2008 was the first year I decided I was going to participate but the first week of November was midterms. I had a full course load and was already working on several novels. Starting one from scratch without finishing at least one of them first felt unfaithful. Still, I didn't want to let the month pass without challenging myself in some way. I remembered a friend had participated in a writing challenge to write 400 words every day for twenty eight days the year before at some point in the fall so I e-mailed her about it. It turned out I e-mailed her on the day it started and she was organizing it herself that year and could therefore e-mail me the prompts even though I did not attend her school. Fate? 400 hundred words a day is not as impressive as a whole novel in a month but it got me into the habit of writing out something every day and because I was so busy with classes I had to let go of my inner editor and stop pushing the backspace button every other sentence in order to meet my quota. I was surprised by some of the ideas that came tumbling out when I wasn't censoring them.
Last November I decided that rather than start a new novel I would just make it a priority to finish the one I was already working on. I carried my journal with me everywhere and wrote like mad on the bus and during class and jury duty. I didn't make it by November 30th. I extended my deadline to December 31st and I still didn't make it. I actually didn't finish it until this last August but forcing words out for those two months did force me to look at the plot as a whole instead of spending all my time harping individual scenes to death when they might end up being cut anyways. And I learned I don't write fast and shouldn't try.
That important revelation should make you wonder why I decided I would participate in the mad word chase this year but I have been experimenting with actual outlining instead of just jumping in and watching where the story goes. I thought it might be a good idea to start the Robin Hood novel I've been researching and outlining and re-outlining for the last year and a half to see how this method works for me but by the time November came along I still hadn't got around to editing the novel I'd finished in August. I decided that would be my November writing task. It only took me the first day to realize that editing actually took longer than drafting (for me) and that rushing it was not going to do me any good. I also still had the unfinished story for the Notes From The Underground contest dangling in front of me. So this year's November task was much simpler. Finish, edit and polish a ten page story. It's maybe 0.5% the size of a novel but I think (at least for now) I gain more satisfaction in doing one small thing well than a large thing sloppily and I was still able to draw inspiration from the idea that this last month writers everywhere were pushing themselves to find out where their limits are.
So what have your experiences with NANOWRIMO been?
November 2008 was the first year I decided I was going to participate but the first week of November was midterms. I had a full course load and was already working on several novels. Starting one from scratch without finishing at least one of them first felt unfaithful. Still, I didn't want to let the month pass without challenging myself in some way. I remembered a friend had participated in a writing challenge to write 400 words every day for twenty eight days the year before at some point in the fall so I e-mailed her about it. It turned out I e-mailed her on the day it started and she was organizing it herself that year and could therefore e-mail me the prompts even though I did not attend her school. Fate? 400 hundred words a day is not as impressive as a whole novel in a month but it got me into the habit of writing out something every day and because I was so busy with classes I had to let go of my inner editor and stop pushing the backspace button every other sentence in order to meet my quota. I was surprised by some of the ideas that came tumbling out when I wasn't censoring them.
Last November I decided that rather than start a new novel I would just make it a priority to finish the one I was already working on. I carried my journal with me everywhere and wrote like mad on the bus and during class and jury duty. I didn't make it by November 30th. I extended my deadline to December 31st and I still didn't make it. I actually didn't finish it until this last August but forcing words out for those two months did force me to look at the plot as a whole instead of spending all my time harping individual scenes to death when they might end up being cut anyways. And I learned I don't write fast and shouldn't try.
That important revelation should make you wonder why I decided I would participate in the mad word chase this year but I have been experimenting with actual outlining instead of just jumping in and watching where the story goes. I thought it might be a good idea to start the Robin Hood novel I've been researching and outlining and re-outlining for the last year and a half to see how this method works for me but by the time November came along I still hadn't got around to editing the novel I'd finished in August. I decided that would be my November writing task. It only took me the first day to realize that editing actually took longer than drafting (for me) and that rushing it was not going to do me any good. I also still had the unfinished story for the Notes From The Underground contest dangling in front of me. So this year's November task was much simpler. Finish, edit and polish a ten page story. It's maybe 0.5% the size of a novel but I think (at least for now) I gain more satisfaction in doing one small thing well than a large thing sloppily and I was still able to draw inspiration from the idea that this last month writers everywhere were pushing themselves to find out where their limits are.
So what have your experiences with NANOWRIMO been?
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Just a Story
When I submitted a piece to the Literary Lab's Notes From The Underground contest it was mostly to keep me on my toes submitting stuff. I was pleased but very surprised when I saw my name on the list of winners. I lost count of how many time I re-read the list to make sure I wasn't imagining it. When I was finally convinced that if this was an hallucination it was a detailed enough one to land me in the loony bin I got excited and told all my friends, decided which idea I would dig out for the final submission, checked out some books on the subject, scratched down a bunch of contradictory notes . . . and didn't actually get anything written down for a month and a half.
I tried. I really did. I sat in front of the computer with my hands hovering over the keys trying to decide what flavor this story would have. What themes I would use. Whether I should use first person or third. How snarky the protagonist should be. How creepy I would make the tone. How I would prevent it from turning in to a novel the way every other short story I'd ever attempted had. What reaction I was going for from my very first realio tuelio audience. All the rules I wouldn't break to prove that I knew what I was doing.
I'm sure you get the idea. I was over thinking. A lot. I had a ton of ideas but every time I was able to type them out on the screen they were immediately followed by a rigorous application of the backspace key. The irony is that the whole nature of this particular contest was supposed to liberate the writer from rules and the fear of rejection so that they could create the story they wanted. The freedom scared me. I would be the only person responsible for whatever I turned in and it would be permanent. I couldn't wake up in the middle of the night and say “What was I thinking? Taig Feargal would never use the word 'acquiesce'” and make the necessary amendments. It would already be printed and sent off to readers who have never met me and would judge their opinion on my entire existence on those words alone.
Then came the nasty part. I had to admit to myself that a large part of why I write is to improve other people's opinion of me. I didn't want to write a piece that I had a strong emotional connection with that expressed my innermost thought. I wanted to write something that other people LIKED. Of course it would be nice if it at least appeared to express my innermost being or managed to say something clever and profound sounding. But it had to accurately represent my other work and . . .
By then I was sick of the whole idea. The deadline was approaching and I had nothing but a handful of sentences and paragraphs that didn't make sense together. I was trying to make ten pages of story do more than any story possibly could. Too much clutter. Too much expectation.
I started over. I placed a stack of notebook paper next to my bed and started writing the way I did when I was thirteen. Long hand with no outline and no delete button at the end of the day when I was too tired to worry about whether it was making sense or had intelligent themes. Just me and my imagination and the calming sensation of pen against paper.
I am content with the result. It is flawed, I am sure, but by allowing it not be a masterpiece I was able to manage something much more personal and something I can release into the world without worrying about the reaction. It's just a story. I will tell many more and hear many more and if I don't let it go after I tell it I won't be able to focus on the next one while it is being told.
I tried. I really did. I sat in front of the computer with my hands hovering over the keys trying to decide what flavor this story would have. What themes I would use. Whether I should use first person or third. How snarky the protagonist should be. How creepy I would make the tone. How I would prevent it from turning in to a novel the way every other short story I'd ever attempted had. What reaction I was going for from my very first realio tuelio audience. All the rules I wouldn't break to prove that I knew what I was doing.
I'm sure you get the idea. I was over thinking. A lot. I had a ton of ideas but every time I was able to type them out on the screen they were immediately followed by a rigorous application of the backspace key. The irony is that the whole nature of this particular contest was supposed to liberate the writer from rules and the fear of rejection so that they could create the story they wanted. The freedom scared me. I would be the only person responsible for whatever I turned in and it would be permanent. I couldn't wake up in the middle of the night and say “What was I thinking? Taig Feargal would never use the word 'acquiesce'” and make the necessary amendments. It would already be printed and sent off to readers who have never met me and would judge their opinion on my entire existence on those words alone.
Then came the nasty part. I had to admit to myself that a large part of why I write is to improve other people's opinion of me. I didn't want to write a piece that I had a strong emotional connection with that expressed my innermost thought. I wanted to write something that other people LIKED. Of course it would be nice if it at least appeared to express my innermost being or managed to say something clever and profound sounding. But it had to accurately represent my other work and . . .
By then I was sick of the whole idea. The deadline was approaching and I had nothing but a handful of sentences and paragraphs that didn't make sense together. I was trying to make ten pages of story do more than any story possibly could. Too much clutter. Too much expectation.
I started over. I placed a stack of notebook paper next to my bed and started writing the way I did when I was thirteen. Long hand with no outline and no delete button at the end of the day when I was too tired to worry about whether it was making sense or had intelligent themes. Just me and my imagination and the calming sensation of pen against paper.
I am content with the result. It is flawed, I am sure, but by allowing it not be a masterpiece I was able to manage something much more personal and something I can release into the world without worrying about the reaction. It's just a story. I will tell many more and hear many more and if I don't let it go after I tell it I won't be able to focus on the next one while it is being told.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Book Review: I Shall Wear Midnight by Terry Pratchett
Terry Pratchett's I SHALL WEAR MIDNIGHT concludes the adventures of the Wee Free Men and their "Big Wee Hag" Tiffany Aching who at Fifteen id now a good deal less "Wee" but still manages to wiggle in and out of tight places. As the chalk's witch she handles all the problems everyone else would rather sweep under the rug. Although everyone in the chalk needs her, they don't always like to admit it, and the fairy tale cliche` of witches being cruel and ugly is starting to wreak havoc on her love life, To Do list, and general safety.
Pratchett weaves his usual brilliant blend of humor, wit, and striking insight into human behavior into a masterfully paced adventure full of drama, witches of all shapes and sizes, and littkle blue men whho say "Crivens!".
Pratchett weaves his usual brilliant blend of humor, wit, and striking insight into human behavior into a masterfully paced adventure full of drama, witches of all shapes and sizes, and littkle blue men whho say "Crivens!".
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Hazzah!
I have finished a draft of my story. It is a little too long and needs some polishing but I feel a lot better having it completed beginning to end. I will post an analysis of the process I used to write this story and what I think I've learned from it for those of you who are interested in that sort of thing. (If you aren't I completely understand. The analysis will be mostly for my own benefit as short stories are sort of a new teritory for me.)But for now I celebrate with these sonnets I've been tinkering with just for fun.
Erato
The black pulse of a thousand minds
Waits for truth to hold back time
Steeped in color and liquid light
The darkened roar demands its sight
With fists raised in unseen design
They cry for communion with the divine
Tonight the sky drops down its eyes
The silence drowns in lucid dies
Between the rifts of glittered strands
Hang the fates that mock demands
Beneath the pull of threaded sound
The tower falls, a toppled mound
Inspiration here at last
To join the present with the past
Food of Love
My forever faithless jealous lover,
Leaping from the fingers of another
Unresolved notes loose their effect
In punishment for my long time neglect
A word with a sonnet, a wink at verse
Moments when I was too lost to rehearse
My fingers slip and fall against your keys
Rough sounds flow through your hollow reeds
Nothing is left but your siren's screeching
A hand cramped from my ceaseless reaching
I am parched for the voice you will not grant
With a mind flailed with silence I recant
Flow back to my brain and out of my throat
Forgive if you can the false words I wrote
Motley
Whir of colorless gauze begging for dies
Shadow filled laughter drowning out sound
Paint covered eyes spinning round and round
Drink bitter delights to sustain the lies
A popinjay decked out in white and black
Swallow the emptiness. Wash out the hues.
Dance to the silence of a drunken ruse
With feathers and bells dripping down your back
With masks twisted out of charm and wits
Don't let them see that your eyes are their eyes
Don't look at yourself. Don't dare become wise.
Whisk your cloak full of glittering bits
Invisible in gilded finery
Wear the costume you expect to see
Erato
The black pulse of a thousand minds
Waits for truth to hold back time
Steeped in color and liquid light
The darkened roar demands its sight
With fists raised in unseen design
They cry for communion with the divine
Tonight the sky drops down its eyes
The silence drowns in lucid dies
Between the rifts of glittered strands
Hang the fates that mock demands
Beneath the pull of threaded sound
The tower falls, a toppled mound
Inspiration here at last
To join the present with the past
Food of Love
My forever faithless jealous lover,
Leaping from the fingers of another
Unresolved notes loose their effect
In punishment for my long time neglect
A word with a sonnet, a wink at verse
Moments when I was too lost to rehearse
My fingers slip and fall against your keys
Rough sounds flow through your hollow reeds
Nothing is left but your siren's screeching
A hand cramped from my ceaseless reaching
I am parched for the voice you will not grant
With a mind flailed with silence I recant
Flow back to my brain and out of my throat
Forgive if you can the false words I wrote
Motley
Whir of colorless gauze begging for dies
Shadow filled laughter drowning out sound
Paint covered eyes spinning round and round
Drink bitter delights to sustain the lies
A popinjay decked out in white and black
Swallow the emptiness. Wash out the hues.
Dance to the silence of a drunken ruse
With feathers and bells dripping down your back
With masks twisted out of charm and wits
Don't let them see that your eyes are their eyes
Don't look at yourself. Don't dare become wise.
Whisk your cloak full of glittering bits
Invisible in gilded finery
Wear the costume you expect to see
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