I work at a local art school in the office. One day, I was taking a break where the kids were. I chatted with one of them and he asked if he could write some poetry. I said sure and went to find some paper. The first paper I found was a stack of fliers for an event from 2004. They were also pink. But they were perfectly blank on the back side, so I grabbed a few sheets and brought them back.
As expected, the kid looked at me like I was crazy. Pink paper with stuff already on it, what was I thinking? So I told the kid exactly what I was thinking. "Hey, real writers write on what they have. There's no magical writing paper; you need a blank surface and something to write with, which you have."
Before the kid could respond, one of the teachers spoke up. "That's right. I use whatever I have. And if I don't have any paper, I'll write on my hand."
The boy stopped protesting and instead accepted the paper. I felt pretty proud of myself right there. I was also happy that I wasn't alone there.
And although I said what I did to placate a boy who was incredulous to use pink paper, I really did mean what I said. Writers write on what they have. If you don't have your notebook or your folded up piece of paper or your digital memo pad, grab a scrap of paper somewhere. There is still a lot of paper all over the place that you can write on. And if there is absolutely no paper to be found,k then write on your skin. Just remember to look at it and transfer it to a more permanent format before your next shower.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Thoughts on Locations
I read a story, one scene taking place in the Syracuse, NY bus station. Now, I have actually been in the Syracuse bus station. I have been there dozens of times, in fact. I've eaten at the Subway there, smelled the coffee from the Dunkin' Donuts. I've stared at the arcade consoles and pinball machine, which is next to the men's room. I've looked up at the TVs running CNN on mute with subtitles and I've seen the monitors showing arrivals and departures, wondering how accurate those times actually are.
Any story taking place in that location need only give the most simple of detail and I will see it in perfect clarity.
If I read a story that took place in a random bus station in Nebraska, the same details would be nearly meaningless to me. I wouldn't see with any kind of clarity the way I would in the Syracuse station. My mind would create a structure that would have all the things that the text mentioned, but it would be a guess at best.
And of course, for anybody who has never been to the Syracuse station, they would have the same experience as me and the generic Nebraskan station.
My initial reaction to this realization is that we are in an unfixable bind. On the one hand, somebody who has not been to the place you describe will need much more detail to see so sharply the picture. On the other hand, people who have been there would grow bored from such excessive detail.
I sat and pondered this for a moment before the realization came to me: the clarity doesn't matter. If, in the story, the character kills time by playing in the small arcade, you don't need to see the alcove; you don't need to know what the games are; you don't need to know what color the floor tiles are. Neither the knowledge nor the ignorance of those facts adds or detracts from the story.
A reader who has actually been in a described location may have a special understanding of a story, but the rest of the readers should not feel left out. Details that matter should be in the text and details that don't matter should be dropped. If your story comes across as an inside joke or a "you had to be there", that is a problem of the author, not the reader.
Any story taking place in that location need only give the most simple of detail and I will see it in perfect clarity.
If I read a story that took place in a random bus station in Nebraska, the same details would be nearly meaningless to me. I wouldn't see with any kind of clarity the way I would in the Syracuse station. My mind would create a structure that would have all the things that the text mentioned, but it would be a guess at best.
And of course, for anybody who has never been to the Syracuse station, they would have the same experience as me and the generic Nebraskan station.
My initial reaction to this realization is that we are in an unfixable bind. On the one hand, somebody who has not been to the place you describe will need much more detail to see so sharply the picture. On the other hand, people who have been there would grow bored from such excessive detail.
I sat and pondered this for a moment before the realization came to me: the clarity doesn't matter. If, in the story, the character kills time by playing in the small arcade, you don't need to see the alcove; you don't need to know what the games are; you don't need to know what color the floor tiles are. Neither the knowledge nor the ignorance of those facts adds or detracts from the story.
A reader who has actually been in a described location may have a special understanding of a story, but the rest of the readers should not feel left out. Details that matter should be in the text and details that don't matter should be dropped. If your story comes across as an inside joke or a "you had to be there", that is a problem of the author, not the reader.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Repeating Words
English is a confusing enough language just to use for communication. But when it comes to using the language artfully, the problems are compounded. The main problem for me is that we are given contradictory advice.
Look at the case of repeating words. Traditionally, we are told that it is bad to use a word more than once every 3-5 sentences (roughly once per paragraph). Grammar words (e.g. the, an, or) are excused, but content words are not.
You would receive a very low grade in a class if you turned in an essay with this paragraph: "My pet is a dog. My dog is named Hutch and Hutch is a good dog. Hutch is an English bulldog. In the summer, my dog and I play Frisbee in the park with other dogs. Hutch enjoys the dog park."
Granted, that paragraph is awful for a number of reasons, but I am very sure that the teacher would make a comment about how often the word "dog" is used. You would be told to find synonyms for "dog" or to rewrite sentences so you wouldn't need to say "dog" so much.
This is the nature of English. Because we have so many ways to say the same thing, both from synonyms and euphemisms, it is very unattractive to hear a word repeated. However, another writing teacher will give you the exact opposite advice (and sometimes it's the same writing teacher).
According to them, powerful writing often employs parallel structure, which means you repeat a word, phrase, or sentence structure to add significance and make very clear that what you are saying matters.
Suppose you turn in the following paragraph: "My dog is an English bulldog named Hutch. My dog is fun and friendly. My dog plays Frisbee in the park. My dog is better than all other dogs." Given to the wrong teacher, you might be told that your writing style rivals a third grader's in intellectual level and artistic merit. But given to the right teacher, you may be told that your parallel structure not only shows the passion you have for your dog, but rivals the beauty of an anaphora poem.
There is another problem that needs to be considered. On the one hand, it is true that repeating words is noticeable and grating. On the other hand, using too many synonyms can be confusing. Suppose I start talking about a nation's "beliefs and social practices", then in the following sentence, make reference to them as "cultural mores". If you don't understand that I am using them synonymously (which can be tricky if they aren't technically synonyms), it just makes the writing harder to follow. So what are we to do?
Ultimately, I think you need to decide for yourself when to repeat words. Say your passages out loud and figure out when it sounds awkward. Gain experience reading and hearing. Learn from good examples and bad examples. Find out how to do it naturally because, ultimately, that's the most important quality to your writing.
Look at the case of repeating words. Traditionally, we are told that it is bad to use a word more than once every 3-5 sentences (roughly once per paragraph). Grammar words (e.g. the, an, or) are excused, but content words are not.
You would receive a very low grade in a class if you turned in an essay with this paragraph: "My pet is a dog. My dog is named Hutch and Hutch is a good dog. Hutch is an English bulldog. In the summer, my dog and I play Frisbee in the park with other dogs. Hutch enjoys the dog park."
Granted, that paragraph is awful for a number of reasons, but I am very sure that the teacher would make a comment about how often the word "dog" is used. You would be told to find synonyms for "dog" or to rewrite sentences so you wouldn't need to say "dog" so much.
This is the nature of English. Because we have so many ways to say the same thing, both from synonyms and euphemisms, it is very unattractive to hear a word repeated. However, another writing teacher will give you the exact opposite advice (and sometimes it's the same writing teacher).
According to them, powerful writing often employs parallel structure, which means you repeat a word, phrase, or sentence structure to add significance and make very clear that what you are saying matters.
Suppose you turn in the following paragraph: "My dog is an English bulldog named Hutch. My dog is fun and friendly. My dog plays Frisbee in the park. My dog is better than all other dogs." Given to the wrong teacher, you might be told that your writing style rivals a third grader's in intellectual level and artistic merit. But given to the right teacher, you may be told that your parallel structure not only shows the passion you have for your dog, but rivals the beauty of an anaphora poem.
There is another problem that needs to be considered. On the one hand, it is true that repeating words is noticeable and grating. On the other hand, using too many synonyms can be confusing. Suppose I start talking about a nation's "beliefs and social practices", then in the following sentence, make reference to them as "cultural mores". If you don't understand that I am using them synonymously (which can be tricky if they aren't technically synonyms), it just makes the writing harder to follow. So what are we to do?
Ultimately, I think you need to decide for yourself when to repeat words. Say your passages out loud and figure out when it sounds awkward. Gain experience reading and hearing. Learn from good examples and bad examples. Find out how to do it naturally because, ultimately, that's the most important quality to your writing.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
The Power of A Single Sentence
Sometimes we get the feeling that, in order to properly express a thought, we need to go in depth to show it. If you want to make sure that the audience knows that a character has a mustache, you have to devote at least a paragraph explaining the qualities of his facial hair. I find this to be the opposite of what is needed.
When I read, sometimes a single sentence can be extremely powerful. If a given fact is important, it simply needs to be stated; its importance will either be immediately obvious or will become obvious when the other important facts are stated.
There are times where I am reading and I want to go back and reread a passage to make sure I got it right. Usually, it becomes very difficult to find the passage I'm looking for because it is so small. The scene that I recall so vividly was only a three-line paragraph. I reread it in the blink of an eye.
I'm not sure if this quality is specific to me or if it is more universal. I consider myself a slow and careful reader, but I think that writing should cater to careful readers. That's why writers should use shorter sentences and not dwell on points, instead keeping the action moving forward. It's also why you should never underestimate the power of a single sentence.
When I read, sometimes a single sentence can be extremely powerful. If a given fact is important, it simply needs to be stated; its importance will either be immediately obvious or will become obvious when the other important facts are stated.
There are times where I am reading and I want to go back and reread a passage to make sure I got it right. Usually, it becomes very difficult to find the passage I'm looking for because it is so small. The scene that I recall so vividly was only a three-line paragraph. I reread it in the blink of an eye.
I'm not sure if this quality is specific to me or if it is more universal. I consider myself a slow and careful reader, but I think that writing should cater to careful readers. That's why writers should use shorter sentences and not dwell on points, instead keeping the action moving forward. It's also why you should never underestimate the power of a single sentence.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Potential Senses
We have all learned (I hope) that we have five senses: seeing, hearing, feeling, tasting, and smelling. We all understand the world around us through these senses. It's easy to think nothing of them, but I think they're the most fascinating part of life.
Our senses interpret things that exist. Sight senses light. Hearing senses vibrations in the air. Feeling, tasting, and smelling interpret physical objects in different ways. Seeing is so thoroughly integral to us that we can't imagine not being able to see. When we think of the blind, we like to think that their sense of feeling and hearing work together to create a 3D map equal to sight; that's how we treat Daredevil. But that simply isn't the case.
What got me interested in senses is the pit viper. Pit vipers have an organ that can sense heat. This was a fact I heard a number of times and simply accepted it as a random fact. But then I thought about it. They have a sense that doesn't exist in humans. They have a sense that we cannot experience. They can get information on a subject which we cannot.
This leads me to wonder, what else is possible? Our senses tell us about things that exist around us. What things are around us that we don't sense? What is possible? What about a sense of barometric pressure? It seems laughable, but is it any more laughable than sensing heat? It would be a very useful sense to know when a storm was brewing instead of us needing to observe and create almanacs and barometers. Sharks can sense electromagnetic radiation emitted from other creatures. It would be great to have that sense to avoid being snuck up on. On the subject of radiation, imagine having a built-in Geiger counter so that we would avoid radioactive locations.
This is something that probably only has use to science fiction. It would be cool to have aliens, either humanoid or not, that had different senses and understood the world in different ways. Similarly, cybernetic implants can add senses to the human body, assuming the brain could handle it. You could literally have that Geiger counter built in.
If you wanted to deconstruct fantasy and explain the magical world, this could be an interesting example of how certain beings know things that we cannot.
I will admit that it is very difficult to try to imagine new senses. The five senses are so core to our very being that thinking outside of them is a difficult task. I think a good start would be looking at our technology. Anything that exists that measures could be turned into a sense.
This leads to some very different and intriguing creatures. Think about all the potential senses out there. You may find something worth writing about.
Our senses interpret things that exist. Sight senses light. Hearing senses vibrations in the air. Feeling, tasting, and smelling interpret physical objects in different ways. Seeing is so thoroughly integral to us that we can't imagine not being able to see. When we think of the blind, we like to think that their sense of feeling and hearing work together to create a 3D map equal to sight; that's how we treat Daredevil. But that simply isn't the case.
What got me interested in senses is the pit viper. Pit vipers have an organ that can sense heat. This was a fact I heard a number of times and simply accepted it as a random fact. But then I thought about it. They have a sense that doesn't exist in humans. They have a sense that we cannot experience. They can get information on a subject which we cannot.
This leads me to wonder, what else is possible? Our senses tell us about things that exist around us. What things are around us that we don't sense? What is possible? What about a sense of barometric pressure? It seems laughable, but is it any more laughable than sensing heat? It would be a very useful sense to know when a storm was brewing instead of us needing to observe and create almanacs and barometers. Sharks can sense electromagnetic radiation emitted from other creatures. It would be great to have that sense to avoid being snuck up on. On the subject of radiation, imagine having a built-in Geiger counter so that we would avoid radioactive locations.
This is something that probably only has use to science fiction. It would be cool to have aliens, either humanoid or not, that had different senses and understood the world in different ways. Similarly, cybernetic implants can add senses to the human body, assuming the brain could handle it. You could literally have that Geiger counter built in.
If you wanted to deconstruct fantasy and explain the magical world, this could be an interesting example of how certain beings know things that we cannot.
I will admit that it is very difficult to try to imagine new senses. The five senses are so core to our very being that thinking outside of them is a difficult task. I think a good start would be looking at our technology. Anything that exists that measures could be turned into a sense.
This leads to some very different and intriguing creatures. Think about all the potential senses out there. You may find something worth writing about.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
The Power of Not Knowing
You ever see some woman who you talk with every now and then and she seems really cool? She’s interesting, unexpected, unpredictable. You want to learn as much as you can about this person because she’s so fascinating. Be careful what you wish for. Once you figure a person out, the intrigue is generally gone. Then that woman becomes just another predictable person.
The same can be true for your characters. If you put too much out on the table, it can lose power. We shout meet a character who we learn about through the course of the story, understanding this person through a combination of actions and exposition. If you lay it all out from the start, it reads more like a character bio than part of a narrative.
This is true of any part of a story, actually. Characters, settings, whether a set of circumstances was coincidence or fate or a brilliant plan. Leave some mysteries. Leave questions that people will desperately want answered. And do give the people answers, but not all of them.
The human imagination is very powerful. If you leave certain things unexplained, the audience will try to fill in the blanks. This can create a unique experience, making your story a personal one for every reader.
However, this can easily be used as a crutch. If you are a bad or lazy writer, you may not answer questions and claim it is to create a unique experience or to affect people with the power of not knowing. But if you're doing that, you know you're a bad writer and that it's your crutch. Don’t confuse leaving parts out for intrigue with leaving crucial information out because you’re lazy and you will be just fine with this technique.
The same can be true for your characters. If you put too much out on the table, it can lose power. We shout meet a character who we learn about through the course of the story, understanding this person through a combination of actions and exposition. If you lay it all out from the start, it reads more like a character bio than part of a narrative.
This is true of any part of a story, actually. Characters, settings, whether a set of circumstances was coincidence or fate or a brilliant plan. Leave some mysteries. Leave questions that people will desperately want answered. And do give the people answers, but not all of them.
The human imagination is very powerful. If you leave certain things unexplained, the audience will try to fill in the blanks. This can create a unique experience, making your story a personal one for every reader.
However, this can easily be used as a crutch. If you are a bad or lazy writer, you may not answer questions and claim it is to create a unique experience or to affect people with the power of not knowing. But if you're doing that, you know you're a bad writer and that it's your crutch. Don’t confuse leaving parts out for intrigue with leaving crucial information out because you’re lazy and you will be just fine with this technique.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Detached Ability
Some people can be really funny when they apply themselves. They can sit down, think about a joke or concept and work on it to craft comedy. Some people get in a funny mood. They tell a funny joke which helps them to make another one and the momentum just keeps going. I have detached comedy. Even when I am tired or cranky or sad, my brain just comes up with jokes.
Between me watching Comedy Central stand-up since I was a small child, and my dad making the corniest jokes possible, I am so completely immersed in comedy that my mind thinks in jokes. I don’t have to be in joke mode. Frankly, I can’t turn joke mode off. It ends up being a blessing and a curse, especially if you are in a very serious situation like a wedding, funeral, or a big fight.
But this kind of thing doesn't happen with just making jokes. This applies to any ability. It works for my proofreading skills, too. If I am walking around and I see a poster or flier, I cannot help but find every typo in it. It is another detached skill. I can't turn it off. And it, too, is both a blessing and a curse.
Still, I think that detached skill is a good thing. It's like breathing; because you do it automatically, you never have to remember to do it (though you can always switch from automatic to manual when you want to). Keep practicing your skills and thinking about them. Immerse yourself in your skills and they will eventually become a detached ability. They can make certain parts of life much easier.
Between me watching Comedy Central stand-up since I was a small child, and my dad making the corniest jokes possible, I am so completely immersed in comedy that my mind thinks in jokes. I don’t have to be in joke mode. Frankly, I can’t turn joke mode off. It ends up being a blessing and a curse, especially if you are in a very serious situation like a wedding, funeral, or a big fight.
But this kind of thing doesn't happen with just making jokes. This applies to any ability. It works for my proofreading skills, too. If I am walking around and I see a poster or flier, I cannot help but find every typo in it. It is another detached skill. I can't turn it off. And it, too, is both a blessing and a curse.
Still, I think that detached skill is a good thing. It's like breathing; because you do it automatically, you never have to remember to do it (though you can always switch from automatic to manual when you want to). Keep practicing your skills and thinking about them. Immerse yourself in your skills and they will eventually become a detached ability. They can make certain parts of life much easier.
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