posted
Cross-World Fantasy Scifi Adventure, roughly 600 words thus far. This seems like more than 13 lines to me, but my browser showed the alphabet template took up 26(?!?) lines when I pasted it into a reply. I can cut it much shorter if it is not within the length set forth in the rules. Please forgive me if that happens to be the case.
I'm just dipping my toe in the water here. There's not much more to share, so a critical take on this opening is really all I'm after right now. I had started with a first person perspective, but realized that wouldn't work out so well. Currently trying for a third-person limited viewpoint. The character's name is more or less a placeholder. Brutally honest criticism is just fine with me. I want a good start, and am willing to earn it.
posted
A little over thirteen lines. The thirteenth line ends with ". . .A small mercy she probably". The simple test is to paste the desired fragment in the 'Full Reply Form'. If you remove any blank lines, they don''t count toward the thirteen lines, this will tell you where the thirteen lines end.
Critique to follow once I've had time to think. My main criticism will be the length of your narrative distance--the narrative is to distant from what the character is actually experiencing.
posted
On the fragment length: this is 26 lines. The last full sentence in the first 13 lines ends with the words, "... while it still lasted."
Simple method: put your text into an A4 Word doc with standard margins (1 inch/2.54cm), and select 12pt Courier New as the font -- then count each line from the top, excluding blank lines. That'll give you an accurate 13 lines.
I am not great at commenting on first 13s (I'm sure others will offer MUCH more :-). However, I will try to come back to this and look again when I have a bit more time...
For now: it feels like you are finding a rhythm around line 22 -- that last paragraph (beginning, "As she gathered...") starts to interest me. Before that, I am distracted by some spelling (e.g. course/coarse) and grammar issues -- especially in the first paragraph.
I'd be happy to look at a first chapter sometime in the coming weeks if you'd like to do a crit exchange.
Posts: 115 | Registered: May 2018
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Oops -- simultaneous posting... Anyway, I believe both methods work, though Phil's depends a bit on which browser you're using. (I think it works with Windows browsers. Didn't work for me using Safari.)
Posts: 115 | Registered: May 2018
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I cut it shorter to where WarrenB suggested, and fixed that spelling mistake. I tried using the template, and I see now how it's coming out wrong. I should be able to adhere to the rule now. Thanks. Posts: 76 | Registered: Apr 2019
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I'm using Firefox on Windows 7. My mistake was not expanding the reply box to fully encompass the lines' widths, so each alphabet line took up two lines instead of one.
I'm off researching what narrative distance is. I don't think I've heard this term before. I have always assumed the third person narrator was just a disembodied voice of god describing the scene. This is very informative. The narrator can be thought of like a camera, with wide angle shots and zooms, close-ups and point of view shots.
I can see now that I am telling this in a cold and matter of fact way that doesn't serve the scene or the traumatic experience she is having. It's not that it's outside of her, but it's certainly not in the same headspace that she is in right here and now.
I'm going to go do a bit more studying and see if I can improve this scene to add the appropriate distance. I'll work on exploring more of her thoughts and feelings, and try to get uncomfortably close to her so the reader can better feel the character and understand her state of mind.
I think that's what's being said. Please, correct me if I'm mistaken.
As to the grammar, oh, I know. I believe English was my least understood class in grade school. Partly because I moved a lot back then and missed some things, and partially because I was more interested in drawing, math and science. I have much to learn.
Thanks for your input. I shall take every golden nugget to heart.
posted
So let me preface this by saying I'm not really a big critiquer of first 13s, and I'm more expert on short stories than novels so what I say is probably best taken with a little grain of salt.
quote: closing the eye again
I like the use of a single eye rather than both-it's quirky and interesting.
quote: A silent wind caressed her face as weakly she rose
Now, I don't share the hatred some feel of any word ending in -ly, but I do find this construction a little off. At the least, I'd say "she rose weakly", or you could also do something like "she struggled to rise." You could even describe the specific feelings/symptoms that are making it difficult to rise. However, I think this fragment is already a bit heavy on descriptions of physical sensations and environment and light on information about her situation or identity or any sort of genre indicators.
Of course, again, I'm used to operating in a short story context where one often is encouraged/feels the need to saturate an opening with info. Novels do have more time to get going.
As it stands I feel like the only thing that draws ones interest is the question of what happened to her, what darkness did she spend so much time in, how did she get here. I'd suggest maybe trying to up that slightly.
Posts: 226 | Registered: Oct 2018
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"Decoding Narrative Distance, Dave King, is an advanced narrative point of view topic essay. Middle degree sources about narrative point of view include our host Orson Scott Card's Characters and Viewpoint and Damon Knight's Creating Short Fiction.
Writers who speak about third-person, limited narrative point of view use the term "limited" for shorthand to mean limited to one viewpoint persona's perspective and close narrative distance, which includes close selective omniscience, or psychic access to thoughts, likewise limited to the one viewpoint persona.
Third-person, close, limited is a narrator's unfiltered received reflections of an insider persona's emotionally looks, hears, touches, smells, tastes, emotionally feels, thinks, and acts outward and inward.
Third-person detached to remote to middle narrative distance is of an outsider narrator looks inward upon a story's milieu. Which, as is, the fragment leans toward. That traditional narrative point of view was predominant for most of fiction history and is now out of fashion, supplanted by third-person, close to middle distance, limited. First-person's by default close narrative distance is as it has always been.
One substantial distinction for third-person, close, limited to keep in mind: a focal persona cannot see the self nor should trivial reflective surfaces show the self. Expressions like this, Galwin looked baffled, are pure outsider narrator tell, an extra lens filter of an outsider narrator matter-of-fact tells what Galwin looks like for the narrator rather than shows her bafflement realized from her insider, internal perspective.
This sentence, though, is somewhat apt third-person, close, limited: "Gentle lapping of tiny waves and the smell of coarse earth brought her mind into dull focus."
That method entails the self placed in sentence object position and the sentence subject a true, unfiltered, natural sentence subject of the insider self's external and internal perspectives, the self named last from natural thought processes, the self done to and receives rather than the self does, filters, and takes. Another method would raise the lapping waves and coarse earth's portents to a specific, immediate, personal, and emotional level.
Though trivial -ing progressive tenses can accumulate a ring rhyme nuisance -- for demonstration example, instead of wordy "Gentle lapping of tiny waves and the smell of coarse earth brought her mind into dull focus." Consider the effects of //Tiny wave slaps against the fetid shoreline spritzed her dulled mind.//
Or similar other designs that express strong and clear emotions and dramatic, emphatic ideas. My demonstrations are meant to be off-kilter and exaggerated for effect so as not to interfere with a creator's creative vision.
An argument could be made that third-person, close, limited's metaphoric substitution for first-person was not done or accepted prior to the nineteenth century -- because mind reading was thought the idle hand of Satan.
Beware of haphazard synonymous uses of "narrative point of view" and "viewpoint." Narrative point of view applies to an overall narrative's grammar person, tense, grammar mood, degree of psychic access, and tone's emotional-moral attitude toward an overall topic or subject. Viewpoint applies to individual dramatic personas and their personal sensory experiences and instance emotional-moral attitudes that inhabit a narrative.
quote: A silent wind caressed her face as weakly she rose
Now, I don't share the hatred some feel of any word ending in -ly, but I do find this construction a little off. At the least, I'd say "she rose weakly", or you could also do something like "she struggled to rise."
I agree 100% on the awkwardness. Something akin to your second example seems more appropriate. I do need to curb my use of -ly. Perhaps I should start reading my work out loud to hear how it sounds and feels? Sound like a good idea.
quote:You could even describe the specific feelings/symptoms that are making it difficult to rise. However, I think this fragment is already a bit heavy on descriptions of physical sensations and environment and light on information about her situation or identity or any sort of genre indicators.
Is there another way to provide genre indicators without getting into her situation and identity? I was trying to purposefully avoid those two things until somewhere around the end of the first page. Maybe I shouldn't deny the reader this information for the sake of "that cool thing" I had in mind?
On that topic, what are the standards of acceptance for minor spoilers here?
quote:As it stands I feel like the only thing that draws ones interest is the question of what happened to her, what darkness did she spend so much time in, how did she get here. I'd suggest maybe trying to up that slightly. [/QB]
That's a big problem, because those questions are quickly answered. If that's the only thing holding the reader's interest, I might lose them after satisfying those curiosities. 0_0
extrinsic, please don't feel like I am ignoring you. Your posts are very challenging for me. Your knowledge of the vocabulary is awesome, and more than a little intimidating. I'm not complaining. I just have to work harder to understand your advice.
quote:Third-person, close, limited is a narrator's unfiltered received reflections of an insider persona's emotionally looks, hears, touches, smells, tastes, emotionally feels, thinks, and acts outward and inward.
This story needs to deal with Galwin's thoughts and feelings, in a pretty big way, over the course of the book, and that feels like the best way to accomplish this. It seems to be as close to a first person perspective as you can get with a third person.
I do have two other main characters, who together with Galwin, comprise the group that goes forth and does "the cool adventure stuff". Still, this is more or less Galwin's book. I had considered switching between the thee points of view, but I believe, while harder to pull off in many ways, the story would work better from her point of view alone.
quote:One substantial distinction for third-person, close, limited to keep in mind: a focal persona cannot see the self nor should trivial reflective surfaces show the self. Expressions like this, Galwin looked baffled, are pure outsider narrator tell, an extra lens filter of an outsider narrator matter-of-fact tells what Galwin looks like for the narrator rather than shows her bafflement realized from her insider, internal perspective.
This, I think I understand. Unless there's a specific reason that she's outside of her body, there's no way to give her that point of view of herself. Even if there was, as though she were looking in a mirror, she would probably not describe herself like that.
If I had to have such a mirror scene, I can describe a look as a feeling or a sense? "She felt a sudden upwelling of sorrow at the sight of herself." or "The face in the mirror was a perfect mask, hiding the pain and grief. She could almost feel its power, convincing her that she wasn't on the edge of despair. Alluring, but ultimately fake."
Something like that, I think, is what the reader would be looking for. Please correct me if I'm off base.
I'll have to study more closely the remainder of your post before I feel comfortable enough to claim anything close to understanding.
Thank you for the insights and advice. I have to work on adding more emotionally driven descriptions and explore the inner mechanics of her character.
quote:Originally posted by drew: Perhaps I should start reading my work out loud to hear how it sounds and feels? Sound like a good idea.
This is always a good idea. A more challenging approach, if you can stand it, is to have someone else read your work to you. It can be painful, but it will help you see how a reader interprets what you've written.
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posted
Trivial reflection surface scenes are about as cliché as clichés come, like facets that make them trivial are solely physical descriptions absent dramatic content, are at least emotionally charged. General readers skim or skip drama-empty physical descriptions of self or anything.
A viewpoint persona's sense of self and dramatic emotional status by its lonesome is often more powerful appeal than any reflective surface gimmick. As well, more potent if a stream-of-consciousness direct thought, sans any filter words like "felt." Or saw, heard, touched, smelled, tasted, and any variants of those actions that filter through an extra, unnecessary, and trivial lens. More potent appeal yet if a viewpoint persona emotionally interacts with another, a thing, or a setting circumstance.
For example, "felt" filters: "She _felt_ a sudden upwelling of sorrow at the sight of herself." Or "The face in the mirror was a perfect mask, hiding the pain and grief. She could _almost_ _feel_ its power, convincing her that she wasn't on the edge of despair. Alluring, but ultimately fake."
An "almost mistake" there, too, does or does not, or otherwise diction recast more definite and finite affirmation.
//Thought of herself welled up a sudden sorrow. Charades masked her pain and grief beyond despair's abyss. Attractive façade -- an utter fake.//
"Reality is filtered through an extra lens. Instead of saying “rain poured down” the author writes “I felt the rain pour down”. A story always has one filter — author telling reader — and good authors generally try to make the author as unobtrusive as possible. Adding this second filter — author telling character to tell reader — is not only uneconomical, it is also often intrusive.
"Feeling trapped into the restriction that all information must come to the point-of-view character [viewpoint persona, actually], with the result that characters often rush onstage to tell the point-of-view character something. This is even worse than the first problem, because now we have a third filter: character telling character telling author telling reader.
"Confusion between the perception of the author, the narrator (if any), and the POV character. See Author Surrogate."
Novels more than short stories occasion multiple viewpoint personas. They rate as foremost, secondmost, and thirdmost active contestants, plus, if any, an anti-contestant (nemesis, villain). The latter three are relative, if contrary or not, to the first's emphasis relevance, relative to the first's motivations, stakes at risk, and outcome destination. Classic Greek labels for the several are protagonist, deuteragonist, triagonist, and antagonist.
A want or problem motivation presented at the outset is a potent method for reader engagement, and at a proportionate stakes risked degree.
As is, the fragment presents a vague motivation for Galwin to figure out her immediate situation. A cue to a stronger and more tangible motivation, a material destination, sets her into proactive and appealing action and motion. She could fail or refuse action at first, only that the motivator destination be "in-cued," introduced, implied, or intimated. Stakes risked then attend the motivator.
Another trivial cliché is a persona recovers consciousness, wakes up, and explores the persona's situation. Writer opens a scene and explores the situation on the page, seeks a start time, place, persona, and event from which to launch dramatic movement. This is a Dischism:
"Authorism. Inappropriate intrusion of the writer’s physical surroundings, mannerisms, or prejudices into the narrative. Overtly, characters pour cups of coffee whenever they’re thinking, because that’s what the author does. More subtly, characters sit around doing nothing but complaining that they don’t know what to do . . . because the author doesn’t know either. (Tom Disch)" (The Glossary)
"Dischism. The unwitting intrusion of the author’s physical surroundings, or the author’s own mental state, into the text of the story. Authors who smoke or drink while writing often drown or choke their characters with an endless supply of booze and cigs. In subtler forms of the Dischism, the characters complain of their confusion and indecision — when this is actually the author’s condition at the moment of writing, not theirs within the story. “Dischism” is named after the critic who diagnosed this syndrome. (Attr. Thomas M. Disch) From "Turkey City Lexicon – A Primer for SF Workshops," Edited by Lewis Shiner, Second Edition by Bruce Sterling, SFWA hosted.
The Glossary and Lexicon's contents are from years of science fiction and fantasy workshop activities about common-as-breath clichés and worthwhile guidances for writers of any genre.
quote: Is there another way to provide genre indicators without getting into her situation and identity? I was trying to purposefully avoid those two things until somewhere around the end of the first page. Maybe I shouldn't deny the reader this information for the sake of "that cool thing" I had in mind?
I didn't intend to imply that those three things (identity, situation, genre tag) needed to be linked. They definitely don't.
And, if you had some sort of plan in mind, a reason for doing what you do as you do it, I say follow it. Some disagree, but I am a big supporter of authorial intent-indeed, one of the reasons I critique as I do is because I mostly figure the author has a reason for doing what they're doing.
Mostly, summed up, I just find this fragment a little bland. I have a broad range of potential "points of engagement" (setting, feel, event, style, character etc) as opposed to some who only have like one, but aside from vaguely wondering what happened to her, I'm not really latching on to anything here.
quote: On that topic, what are the standards of acceptance for minor spoilers here?
Your own, or somebody else's?
quote: That's a big problem, because those questions are quickly answered. If that's the only thing holding the reader's interest, I might lose them after satisfying those curiosities. 0_0
Somehow I doubt that. Chances are, those answers will raise their own questions. It's not about the only thing holding interest, in the beginning, it's about creating interest in small things so you can work into the bigger things (or just hit 'em with the big things right away if that fits you're story-I generally tend to start out small.)
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posted
In general, you’re more the storyteller than placing the reader into the story in real-time. That tends to distance the reader from the action, making it read too much like a report.
In addition, it needs to be squeezed. Our medium is slow, with each word read serially. So removing a words without changing the meaning can make a large difference in how long it takes to read a line. And, the faster the read the greater the impact.
Why tell the reader she opened “one” eye? Does the number of eyes really matter? Why say, A “silent wind” caressed her face? That’s inherent if you use “breeze.” And why not make use of the fact of a breeze implies that she’s outside?
Why say, “It must be just about dawn, she assumed.” ? Doesn’t “must be” imply an assumption? Won’t having her have the thought feel more real than having someone external to the story talk about her?
Why spend forty-four words to say, “She felt strange, though she couldn't describe it. It wasn't pain. That was there, of course, though not as intense as she imagined it should be. She figured she must be numb from the cold, and forced herself to move while it still lasted.” In her viewpoint she doesn’t feel “strange.” Her feeling is specific. Have her feel it. Far too often, you, the author, are explaining things to the reader. Instead, take Mark Twain’s advice to heart: “Don't say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream.”
It’s her story, after all. And you’re getting set to put her through hell. So, fair is fair. Instead of you, someone not in the story or on the scene talking about her in a voice whose emotion the reader can’t hear, place that reader into her footprints as her. Make them know the situation as-she-does, in her moment of “now.” Life doesn’t take place in overview. You and I, from the moment we wake till sleep claims us, live an unending chain of cause and effect. Shouldn’t she? No one comes into the room where we are and begins talking about us to an invisible audience. How can that happening to her seem real? Would you politely shut up till they finished talking? No. But she does. You’d ask who they were and why they were talking about you. If she doesn’t, can she seem real?
My point is that while classic “point of view,” is a matter of which personal pronouns you use, viewpoint is something very different. And viewpoint always takes place in real-time.
This article talks about one powerful way of presenting viewpoint as the protagonist experiences it, and, through their perception. Chew on it for a bit till it makes sense. Pick a modern story that made you feel as if you were living it in parallel with the protagonist and I think you’ll see that technique in use. And if it seems like something worth pursuing, pick up a copy of the book it was condensed from. It’s filled with things like that.
Hope this helps
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posted
My comprehension just took a nosedive. This is a challenge.
The spoiler would be of my own story, and only a minor one that I feel brings context to the opening. I wouldn't think of giving someone else's away. If I take the question you raise as an answer of sorts, I'm guessing it's up to me. I'll try to not tell it if I can get away with it, but the questions and points being raised seem to indicate I probably should tell. Though, at this point I guess you probably already know what it is going to be.
The following is what I was going by as I wrote this scene, which is based on experiences I've had with similar trauma. I'm probably not conveying it at all well, so maybe this can give you a sense of what I was going for, and maybe give me a better idea of how to write it.
Her initial motivation, as I understand it, begins with just wanting to get out of the water, and to see how badly she is injured. She is waking up, half dazed and fuzzy headed, in a dreamlike, mindless haze. She's in a state of shock, more or less. She's "not all there" yet. It's not quite as severe as I have experienced it, but that's what I'm going by.
She doesn't recall, at first, how she got into the water. If she does think about the time before right now, she thinks only about darkness and cold. She doesn't have a "last thing I remember" moment until a little bit further down on the page. She knows she was injured, has a sense that it was pretty bad, but the details elude her at first because she's so out of sorts.
Have you ever been so severely injured you went into shock, or woke up after a major surgery with the anesthetic still working it's way out? It's kind of like that for her right now. At least, that's how I imagine it to be, perhaps not so severe as that. She has a singular motivation, and it may not make sense in the context she is in, but it's all she has to consciously hold on to right now.
I once woke up from surgery and all I could think of was sitting up, even though a nurse insisted I lay, pushed me back down, and told me I was waking up from an operation. I heard it, maybe even comprehended some of it, but it didn't stop me from sitting up again and again, for quite a few moments. Eventually my mind came back, and I fully understood where I was and what had happened. Only then did I stop trying to sit up.
A similar thing happened when I broke my femur at age 5 and I went into shock. Conscious, yet mindless, a singular purpose that was not under my control. As if my body grew a very stupid brain and took the reigns from me. I could see myself doing the stupid thing, but not understand why, or how to stop it, or even what just happened to me that caused me to be in this strange state. It's very disconcerting, but it doesn't last long, from my experience.
If you could stop time and bluntly ask her "What are you feeling right now," the best answer I feel she could give is "weird, confused, cold and aching". Her emotions are nearly nonexistent right now, as if still catching up to her, so she's running on something like instinct for the first few moments. Reason and logic are right out. Her senses are confusing to her, but she has enough sense to get out of the water because it's cold, and you don't just lay in the cold water when you're cold, because it's cold, and of course you don't. It's almost nonsensical, but it makes sense to her because she's half-senseless.
If she had her wits, she probably wouldn't be trying to pull herself out of the water until she was sure it was safe for her body to move. Her lower half was the epicenter of the trauma, so I don't describe it yet.
She can feel physical sensations, and recognizes them, but not as she should. The ground feels like ground, but not like how she knows ground feels under her. The water is lapping against her body, but it's not right in her mind, even if she can recognize the sensation. It's like feeling the world through a thin slab of meat, but also not like that because the sense is acute, not dull, and not like she knows it should feel, but she can't articulate the difference.
Very quickly things come back to her, the memories and the emotions come, and the screaming. Trust me, she's screaming in no time here, and feeling terror and anxiety and all those things you know she should feel. But right now she just feels cold and weird.
Now I have to distill all that down into a better scene so I don't have to tell it like this for the reader to understand.
I don't mean for the following to come off as arrogant or as an argument or excuse, but I don't know how else to say it. There are things I don't want to take out. The reflective surface is a big one.
I can't imagine her not doing that. I can't imagine anyone not doing that in her situation. I don't plan on writing it exactly as I did. That was just an illustration to see if I understood what you were saying. Apparently I don't.
The waking up into a scene has to happen too, I think. Cliche or not, it is a "must happen" moment. I can put it somewhere else. I can go back to the previous, as yet, untold scene that brought her to this moment, but I have to retell that previous scene later to another character.
This feels like the place where everything changes. Maybe my writing is worse for keeping it, but I can't say I want to remove it either.
Does cliche have to always be avoided?
"It's just about dawn, she assumed", seems wrong to me. I think I can do:
"It must be just about dawn, she thought."
I don' know. It's like she's trying to assert her own sense of reality on the world. "I will not accept that it is not just about dawn.". Something like that.
I'm not sure what "filter" is in this context, I'm afraid. I don't understand. This is confusing me.
I think this is going to take some major head wrapping. I'll pour over the text and links you provided. Maybe having a few more ways of explaining it will help me see what you're telling me.
I think I'm assuming things are obvious because I know more about the story than the reader, and this is leading me to gloss over or omit key things that the reader needs that I have but don't provide, because I assume it's obvious. I'll have to go through and seriously consider each line, and what it's assuming the reader knows, then fix them.
Thank you for the replies. My pot o' gold nuggets is slowly filling up. Slowly. Posts: 76 | Registered: Apr 2019
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If you want more in depth discussion and clarification, please feel free to email me. I have some thoughts I wouldn't mind sharing if you amenable anyway, but they are a little beyond the scope of the fragments section.
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Upon further research, I realize this is not epic fantasy. It was in my original vision long ago, but it's changed since then, and I guess I never considered those changes would change what subgenre it would fit in. It is fantasy yes, but it fits more in line with a cross-world, scifi fantasy adventure.
Posts: 76 | Registered: Apr 2019
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I would be more open to one on one discourse once I have more of this worked out. At least a couple decent chapters under my belt, and a firm grasp of the rules of the world. Still working on that bit.
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quote:Now I have to distill all that down into a better scene so I don't have to tell it like this for the reader to understand.
Here's the problem: At the moment, like mort hopeful writers, you're using the skills we're issued in our school days. But they're nonfiction writing skills, designed to make us useful to our future employers. So no one mentioned that on entering any scene the things a reader needs quickly, in order to have context, are, Where am I? What's going on? Whose skin am I wearing? Lacking that, the reader hasn't context to make sense of what they read. You do, so you don't see the problem as you edit.
Moreover, nonfiction writing is fact-based, as this excerpt was. So we know what happens, but get no sense of self, and no empathetic connection to the reader. It's not a matter of talent or how well you're writing. In fact, and English teacher who received this in response to a writing assignment would probably give you a good grade. An acquiring editor wouldn't.
The problem you face is that no matter how you try to rethink the opening it will always be written in, and shaped by, the writing skills you spent so many years honing that they feel intuitive. For all we know you're awash in writing talent, which, after it's trained will make you an amazing writer. But until them it's unrealized potential.
Remember, your goal isn't to make the reader know. History books do that, and how many read them for entertainment? But history books have romance, betrayal, battles, and everything fiction has. So what does it lack? Immediacy. History is immutable. But place the reader into the protagonist's now, as-the-protagonist, and the future becomes uncertain, and therefore, interesting. We know what has the protagonist's attention. We know how they view it, and what their resources and necessities are. And because we do we may not agree with the protagonist's decision as to what to do next, but we will understand, nd therefore want to know what happens as a result. Ands that's why the reader turns the page. Leave that out—explain things as the all knowing narrator and they don't.
Look at the present opening. You're thinking cinematically. You see her wake, and report what you see, her opening one eye. But knowing what can be seen, and what's in the image you held as you wrote can't generate that image in the reader's mind without a lot more words, because as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. And in any case, our medium doesn't provide pictures. So instead of talking about her, and what you see happening to her, become her, and let her decide what matters. What is the first thing that catches her attention as she wakes? My guess would be discomfort. But whatever it is, she needs to react to that in some way because if she doesn't—if it doesn't matter enough to her to react to, why are you bothering the reader with it? She's the protagonist, and so it's her story, not yours. So if you report on anything she's not aware of, or actively involved with, you, and the reader, are not in her viewpoint.
posted
Any cliché can be rehabilitated, reinvigorated, reinvented, re-innovated, freshened, defused by vivid and lively expression. Wake-ups become transcendent if the wake-up is natural and necessary and incidental to pivotal events, is emotionally charged and interactive for true event subjects. Clichés are tired, trite, worn out, and trivial hand-me-down "used furniture." "Trite, trivial, and used" are the operative terms.
So what if Galwin wakes up and explores her situation? Why should I care? One of our host Orson Scott Card's questions readers ask. If she wants a pressing destination, she's in motion, other than that she wants to know what happened and her physical status snapshot moment state-of-being stasis. She's static or in reversed retro-movement reflections of the past. Forward processes matter, gives me reasons to care, for I want for journeys' destinations, too. Thus a cliché wake-up becomes a lively continuation of a prior and present compelling motivation.
Yeah, I've fallen on my head a few times and was unconscious or dazed and out of it, plus sedated unconscious a few times. The wake-up fuzz is fuzz and incidental. Pressing cares soon stilled the fuzz and were what mattered most from the get-go.
Filters are words that summarize and explain sensations, and the sensations summary told rather than shown in their bald perceptual experiences. Filters create secondhand, thirdhand, and further removes from immediate-now sensations' appeals.
An overexaggerated sample:
I _heard_ Larry _say_ to Donte that Henrique _said_ Gina _said_ boys do _talk_ smack.
Underscores bracket filter words. An I said, he said, he said, she said, they said gossip line, scene, etc. A "He said-she said" paraphrase. That method is also tagged indirect speech, a paraphrased recap of numerous "hearsay" conversations.
The overstatement amounts to a possible commentary about gossip. More context wrap would affirm if so or similar other. By itself, the line is lackluster, bland, static, and emotionally empty, though.
Otherwise, adjustment considerations include conversion to a now-moment conversation of all included, say, the parlor game Telephone unawarely played out at a "Big Brother" house party; the situation's personal sensation perception and emotional descriptions of the event, setting, personas, and speech and thoughts while those transpire: visual, aural, and emotional sensations at least, maybe olfactoral and gustatoral sensation comments about body odor, busybodies, warm beer, and stale popcorn.
Sensation descriptions' strengths are from how a viewpoint observer characterizes events, settings, and characters, as much or more reveals the self's true nature as the self-biased perceptions of others' observed natures.
However, dependent on narrowed genre type and audience, such conventions might overwork or delight readers. If a genre's focus is known, say young adult action adventure social (soft) fantasy science fiction, then yes, more verbatim, direct sensation descriptions.
Soft and hard science fiction split along fantastical science type, though crossovers develop both and more: social sciences and physical sciences. If hard science fiction, then more filtered sensation paraphrased tell is target-reader accepted.
The novel's descriptions thus far indicate more social sciences emphasis than physical sciences emphasis. Thus, more verbatim descriptive details are apt and may be wanted for target audience appeal value and effect. Physical sciences science fiction wants less social descriptions and more descriptions of how science and technology gadgets work and are used for a given milieu and more so how those influence lives.
Hard science fiction example of excellence, Ursula K. Le Guin's cumulative ansible uses and how-it-works, or really, how ansibles are used descriptions (metaphor for underwater submarine radio messages and limited, brief, pager-type message memo correspondence across vast distances: prescient of Twitter fodder-all). Soft science fiction (political sciences): George Orwell's 1984, fantastical social dystopia allegory, faceless and indifferent government tyranny.
"He noticed the rain pelt his face as he watched it pour down."
could become
"Pouring rain pelted his face."
Understanding isn't competence, and I'm really going to have to work on this to avoid filtering, but this is progress.
Considering the lack inherent in the waking scene, I'm compelled to go back one scene and start there. It's big on motion and puts the waking into context, and would actually allow me to trust the reader enough not to have to explore every waking second.
That would align more with the idea of a monomyth. Not that I'm trying for it (trying to avoid it, to be honest), but that's something that might help indicate genre, since I have almost nothing that does that here.
Aside: I just learned about this M.I.C.E thing our host created. I might go for that. Seems interesting. Need to study more.
This isn't going to be hard science, though it might delve a tad into how some of the tech works. Not sure yet. I don't require writing the scifi like stereo instructions, if that's what you mean.
Since I'm going to rewrite this chapter again (again and again), I guess telling why I need a reflection scene isn't going to harm anything. You probably already know. It's not a moment of deep personal reflection, just a moment of confirmation that what she already suspects is true: It's not her body, and this is not her face.
Once again, I am humbled, but hopeful. Thanks for sticking with me. Posts: 76 | Registered: Apr 2019
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posted
Don't be too humbled-remember, it's still your story, your voice and your style.
Knowing this, me, myself, personally, I'd suggest perhaps, maybe inject some of the things that cause her to suspect her situation into the opening. It would add interest and perhaps a hint of a genre tag (though especially in a novel, that isn't necessarily an absolute necessity anyway.)
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posted
The more I think about this, the further back I feel I should start the story. Maybe even before the accident, because even then there's not much to it than some brief exciting action, and reflection on an event that lead her to encounter the accident. So, the story might be best served by establishing that scene first in the present, which would allow me to properly introduce her character and say some things about her current life.
Researching story writing leads me to conclude this is less like a book opening, and more like a short story opening. Taking it back a couple of scenes, and not trying to fishhook the reader into liking the character, but actually giving them reasons to like her up front, is a more sound strategy.
I think I jumped into writing this too quickly. I might take a biiig step back and consider how to go about it in a better way, which will give me time to study more. My grammar, for one, is in desperate need of attention. Posts: 76 | Registered: Apr 2019
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quote:Originally posted by drew: On that topic, what are the standards of acceptance for minor spoilers here?
It is helpful, sometimes, to tell us what you are trying to do, what your plans are for what comes next in the story, especially if you are trying to set things up in your first 13 lines for what comes next.
So "spoilers" should not be a problem.
We are trying to approach what you write as fellow writers, not necessarily as readers (though that helps, too). As writers, we look at how you convey the story, and try to offer suggestions on how to do that more effectively.
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posted
The high-end and platinum standard U.S. Standard English grammar handbook for any language skill level past, say, age sixteen years old, is The Little, Brown Handbook, 12th edition, about $125 list price, on sale for half that amount online at you-know-where.
Standard English is the core dialect, punctuation, grammar, etc., of the language as accepted by past and present writers and speakers of the language and is the most accessible expression for the vast majority. Prose, though, wants optional grammars and idiolects (identity, personal grammar [id + dialect]) as well. ---- Scenes established in a present now are of more appeal, period, and potentially as close a narrative distance as practical, given a narrative point of view.
The recent thought to open from earlier scenes occurred to me as an apt strategy, too. Consider that Galwin at the river is a consequence, an effect of earlier causes. A first cause is often where a narrative ought best practice start.
An in medias res start opens in the middle of the action, so to speak. Can be anytime, anywhere other than ab ovo, from the egg of conception, literally, or ab initio, from the initiation. Or in ultimas res, at the end of the thing, is also a method and time to open. Each someway opens at a realization of a want-problem Antagonism and stakes risked Causation. Tension is from how circumstances emotionally entrain for best reader emotional effect: ACT.
Well, now I cannot find your original text at all, only comments.
Never mind: I reject this "write an encyclopedia about the book from 13 lines" anyway. It is an invitation to verbal Onanism and it is too enthusiastically, too often, taken up.
If you want me to see the first Chapter or more, and are willing to comment on my writing of equivalent length, use my e-mail address.
posted
I am currently reworking the opening scene, this time set in a cinema where she works. I believe this will be a much better opening, and allows me to reflect on the story itself with the film being played. I've also introduced a homeless guy which should bring more of the theme into play early. I'm really liking how it's going so far.
I would share, but I feel I need to make sure I'm not making the same mistakes I did here. Plus, life is tossing me curve balls, and my arm is getting tired from swinging for the bleachers. I'll update this when I feel the work is ready, or more probably, when I'm ready to give you all the attention you deserve.
posted
Ah, what the heck. Here are my revised 13 lines, which also encompasses the entire first paragraph.
The cinema was near empty tonight. Sparse regulars occupied the plush seats like islands in a dim sea, the space between them further than even the saltiest sailors would dare to sail. Haloed heads were lit by the glow of a classic black and white film playing on the screen. A young teenage couple were making out in the back row, disinterested in the story being told. They were too busy exploring their own plot lines. Old Bob Gantry, the town's resident philosopher drunk, had his usual place in the seventh row to the far right of the theater. Galwin didn't care for the old guy, but the owner let him sit in on nights like this, when his presence wouldn't disturb the tiny audience. The cost of admission was never brought up when it came to Bob.
Fun fact, I pulled the name Gantry clear out of the blue. One meaning of the word I later found out was "a frame for holding barrels". Considering his affinity for whiskey, and rather portly shape, I find this deliciously fitting. How wondrous the subconscious, eh?
Posts: 76 | Registered: Apr 2019
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posted
Maybe also nonconscious allusion to Sinclair Lewis' Elmer Gantry, 1927 novel, 1960 motion picture? Gantry, a hard drinker and philanderer, travels on the proverbial road toward Damascus.
Consider an earlier introduction point for Galwin, for the sake of sooner, closer narrative distance. Here, say, "Sparse regulars occupied the plush seats like islands in a dim sea . . ."
//Sparse regulars occupied the plush seats around Galwin [or apter, her], like islands in a dim sea . . .//
Also, with few language acrobatics, the several static voice predicates of to be verb + -ing could become more robust, dynamic expression appeals.
"Haloed heads _were_ lit _by_ the glow of a classic black and white film _playing_ on the screen."
Passive and static voice. "were," albeit past tense main verb "lit," most so the preposition "by," and "playing," are tip-offs of passive voice. Passive voice is always static voice's stasis state-of-being statements.
Active and dynamic voice inversion, the doer of the halo-light glows' true sentence subject from the projection screen light, and this below places apt force amplitude and main idea emphasis at the sentence's end:
//Glows from a classic black-and-white film on the silver screen haloed patrons' heads.//
Reconsider all static voice to be verbs?
As is, the latest fragment version, a movement toward a stronger, closer narrative distance, more in the now-moment insider viewpoint persona received external and internal reflections, little, if any, dramatic movement setup, though.
How to set up for the pendent routine interruption dramatic movement toward an abrupt, unwanted mind-body transfer? (A milieu emphasis per our host Orson Scott Card's M.I.C.E. quotient.) Through portentous descriptions of the extant pivotal event, setting, and personas of the theater scene.
"The cinema was near empty tonight. Sparse regulars occupied the plush seats like islands in a dim sea, the _space between them_ _further_ than even the saltiest sailors would dare to sail."
"space between them," a modifier-subject number agreement error and a between-among error. "further," further-farther error.
Illustration exaggerated for effect:
//Few regulars squirmed the plush chairs around her tonight, theatergoers like sparse ships, islands of an alien sea. Farther apart than salty sailors dared sail -- vast gaps stretched among them.//
More said from the several above demonstrations and little, if any, language acrobatics or much longer word count.
Many S sounds, either the original or the demonstration one above, poetic consonance, that reflect susurant theater ambient, radio, and static electricity noises, persona's tactile friction noises, and settings' air and water movement sounds. More portentous substance than meets the eye from those S's.
quote:Originally posted by extrinsic: Maybe also nonconscious allusion to Sinclair Lewis' Elmer Gantry, 1927 novel, 1960 motion picture? Gantry, a hard drinker and philanderer, travels on the proverbial road toward Damascus.
I don't think I've ever encountered this film. What a gem. I think I know what I'll be watching tonight.
quote:Originally posted by extrinsic: Consider an earlier introduction point for Galwin, for the sake of sooner, closer narrative distance. Here, say, "Sparse regulars occupied the plush seats like islands in a dim sea . . ."
//Sparse regulars occupied the plush seats around Galwin [or apter, her], like islands in a dim sea . . .//
A fine idea. I'm a little concerned about her introduction. I admit I spend more time with Gantry than Galwin. I really need to make her more interesting. Gantry kind of stole the show. :/
quote:Originally posted by extrinsic: Also, with few language acrobatics, the several static voice predicates of to be verb + -ing could become more robust, dynamic expression appeals.
"Haloed heads _were_ lit _by_ the glow of a classic black and white film _playing_ on the screen."
Passive and static voice. "were," albeit past tense main verb "lit," most so the preposition "by," and "playing," are tip-offs of passive voice. Passive voice is always static voice's stasis state-of-being statements.
Active and dynamic voice inversion, the doer of the halo-light glows' true sentence subject from the projection screen light, and this below places apt force amplitude and main idea emphasis at the sentence's end:
//Glows from a classic black-and-white film on the silver screen haloed patrons' heads.//
Reconsider all static voice to be verbs?
Most definitely. I'll keep this in mind as I write and rewrite. It will take some doing. Also, I know to put the funny bit at the end for more punch, but I seem to have missed this when it comes to dramatic effect. Good catch.
quote:Originally posted by extrinsic: As is, the latest fragment version, a movement toward a stronger, closer narrative distance, more in the now-moment insider viewpoint persona received external and internal reflections, little, if any, dramatic movement setup, though.
Progress! I think? The lack of dramatic setup appears acceptable in this first paragraph, though I realize it needs to come in sooner than I currently have it. I have her boyfriend (the projectionist) sneak in behind her and point out Bob has a date, and there is a little conflict there. I don't get to that for three more paragraphs, but I can move those and have some conflict right up front.
Those other three paragraphs go more into Gantry, Galwin's thoughts and feelings about him (probably too much), Galwin sneaking into the theater to watch the film (she's works the ticket counter, I should make this clear up front as well, I realize it's not), and the film on screen (mainly placeholder, until I find the perfect film to use here, or make up a better one). A bit of shuffling about can fix the pacing and put some setup closer to the front.
quote:Originally posted by extrinsic: How to set up for the pendent routine interruption dramatic movement toward an abrupt, unwanted mind-body transfer? (A milieu emphasis per our host Orson Scott Card's M.I.C.E. quotient.) Through portentous descriptions of the extant pivotal event, setting, and personas of the theater scene.
An excellent question, and interesting answer. I was hoping Gantry and the film would help here. Him being the happy homeless, and the film depicting (perhaps cliche) cross-world portal fantasy in cinematic form, a la The Wizard of Oz (but not that film). Dorothy does get a mention, however.
quote:Originally posted by extrinsic: "The cinema was near empty tonight. Sparse regulars occupied the plush seats like islands in a dim sea, the _space between them_ _further_ than even the saltiest sailors would dare to sail."
"space between them," a modifier-subject number agreement error and a between-among error. "further," further-farther error.
Illustration exaggerated for effect:
//Few regulars squirmed the plush chairs around her tonight, theatergoers like sparse ships, islands of an alien sea. Farther apart than salty sailors dared sail -- vast gaps stretched among them.//
More said from the several above demonstrations and little, if any, language acrobatics or much longer word count.
I wasn't able to find a local copy of the Little Brown Handbook at the library, but there is copy of the Handbook for Writers published by Simon & Schuster that I should be studying more. This was mentioned there. I really need to get my grammar under control.
quote:Originally posted by extrinsic: Many S sounds, either the original or the demonstration one above, poetic consonance, that reflect susurant theater ambient, radio, and static electricity noises, persona's tactile friction noises, and settings' air and water movement sounds. More portentous substance than meets the eye from those S's.
Something I am oblivious to. 0_0 Interesting. I am aware that I am using a LOT of water metaphors, and I don't know why. Something to investigate. I'll try to reduce that ssstatic. (now that I see it, I notice it everywhere. The Blue Prius effect?)
Thank you. A very insightful critique. Posts: 76 | Registered: Apr 2019
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posted
A sublime characterization method develops a viewpoint first- or third-person persona's true nature through their personal insider biased lenses, as it were, Jerome Stern's, Making Shapely Fiction, Specimen shape. A self reveals as much or more about the observer-biased self's nature and personality, interesting for those features alone, as about a specimen(s) observed.
Those above water metaphors intimate a maritime nature, fascination, or alignment or wish for the life maritime of a viewpoint persona. Apt characterizations, and maybe fertile fruit potential for the film title? Maybe The Ancient Mariner, 1928, silent-classic fantasy based upon Samuel Taylor Coleridge's 1798 poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, a film which also characterizes the theater's nature, a classic film venue, or similar other, a potential faint allusion to a fantasy science fiction milieu and maybe enough to show so within a first page.
Bob Gantry could be a drunken old salt retired home from the sea. He and Galwin loathe each other yet share, unaware, that one piece of maritime interest. Readers could be shown they are solitaire ships at sea that passed unaware.
posted
Let us see if I understand this. I honestly didn't know the distinction between further and farther. (Thanks Youtube!) Farther distances further our resolve. Natch.
I'm sure I'm missing something. I tried to keep the prose closer to what I had, rather than taking your suggestions an just pasting them in. I think the metaphor of heads as islands works better than ships. No offense. Here are my updated 13 lines.
I sought to address the S's sound issue. Seems it needs some serious study. hehe
The cinema was near empty tonight. A scant audience occupied the plush chairs before her like islands in a dim ocean, the spaces between them farther than even the hardiest would dare to sail. A classic black and white film played on the screen illuminating the patrons' heads like halos. A young teenage couple were making out in the back row, disinterested in the story being told. They were too busy exploring their own plot lines. Old Bob Gantry, the town's resident philosopher drunk, occupied his usual place in the seventh row to the far right of the theater. Galwin didn't care for the old guy, but the owner let him sit in on nights like this, when his enjoyment wouldn't disturb the tiny audience. The cost of admission was never mentioned when it came to Bob.
Gosh, I hope that's still 13 lines. 0_0
[edit] I didn't see your latest reply. The maritime theme may be due to my own residence being a coastal bay. I can go with the flow, though. I'll check out that film. If nothing else, another film for the fodder pile. Thank you. Posts: 76 | Registered: Apr 2019
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One of the benefits of critiquing other’s stories is that when you aren’t engaged you sometimes need to just sit and seriously think about why. Answer: I’m not there.
We’ve all seen this particular scene in a movie; the nearly empty cinema with an assortment of oddballs scattered about. It’s easy to imagine, so why aren’t I there? Let me pre-empt Jay Greenstein by saying that it reads like a report; both versions. I’m just not there in the moment.
In addition, on another thread I wrote: “A first sentence, by definition, must be able to stand on its own. Nothing precedes it and that which follows is dependent on what it says.” In this instance you tick both of my preferred boxes, and yet, for me, it fails: why?
quote:Originally posted by Drew:
The cinema was near empty tonight.
I have a problem with the phrasing of this sentence. The use of the term ‘near’ catches in my mind and causes my reading flow to stumble--if that makes any kind of sense. It makes what should be a simple statement a torrid read. And, in further consideration (while I’m writing this) I think you could drop the ‘tonight’. Is it necessary at this point? Time of day seems to be irrelevant in a cinema.
Okay, you've broken the code...on that one issue. But there are hundreds more. And the fact that you're missing them, combined with your existing writing reflexes "grabbing the controls" is sabotaging the rewrite.
Your first inclination as a storyteller is to "set the scene." So, the majority of the rewrite is devoted to things that could be seen in the video version, but which aren't relevant to the protagonist in his moment of now.
When you open with “The cinema was near empty tonight,” that’s what the protagonist concludes as a result of observation, in six words. But then, you, the author, drop in an essay of 132 words on who’s there, cataloging visual detail in a medium that can't reproduce the image or the ambiance he responds to. So unless there's a reason, plot-wise, for him to notice to that level of detail; unless it directly influences what he does/says next, why do we, as readers, care, given that we don’t yet know what’s going on, where we are in time and space, and who we are? Those three issues give a reader context. So lacking them, when they need it to make the scene meaningful is a "shot ourselves in the foot," kind of problem.
Look at line two: “Sparse regulars occupied the plush seats like islands in a dim sea, the space between them further than even the saltiest sailors would dare to sail.” These are visual details that the protagonist has seen many times, so mentioning them is the author explaining, not the protagonist noticing.
And of course, talking about the space between seats in a theater as you have, in an attempt to “jazz-up” the telling, is pretty well into purple prose.
My point? You’ve picked up on an important point, one most hopeful writers never do learn. And you deserve both credit and praise for having done that. It will serve you well. But you’re missing the same kind of epiphany on other critical issues, as well.
The good news? You already know how cool it is to catch on to such things, and the opportunities it creates for more exciting and real prose. So learning that there’s more, each of which will make as great a difference in the readability of your prose, is something to look forward to. And each of them will have as great an effect on the flow, and the planning and presentation of the story. Is a good thing.
With that one issue, your protagonist just became your co-writer, to an extent, because you now must present the action in that character’s viewpoint. Now, you need to pick up the tricks of presenting that viewpoint, and ending a scene, and....
That article I linked to can be a huge help. But the book it’s condensed from hits many more points than that one, and is well worth a look.
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quote:Originally posted by Grumpy old guy: I am not engaged as a reader. Sorry.
You need not apologize. This is far more valuable to me than you might think. I feel I learn more from my mistakes, and not engaging the reader is a big mistake.
quote:Originally posted by Grumpy old guy: One of the benefits of critiquing other’s stories is that when you aren’t engaged you sometimes need to just sit and seriously think about why. Answer: I’m not there.
We’ve all seen this particular scene in a movie; the nearly empty cinema with an assortment of oddballs scattered about. It’s easy to imagine, so why aren’t I there? Let me pre-empt Jay Greenstein by saying that it reads like a report; both versions. I’m just not there in the moment.
Hehe, you must be psychic. If I say that she is unhappy that the theater is nearly empty, instead of just stating it is, it would introduce her and her perspective in the first line. Then it would be more about her, and less about the scenery. I could then flow right into Gantry's introduction as the reason for her unhappiness, her love of the film and bam: her boyfriend pops in, makes rude comments about Gantry and his lady, Galwin and he have hushed words that make her a bit guilty bout not liking Old Bob, the film breaks... and I'm getting ahead of myself.
quote:Originally posted by Grumpy old guy: In addition, on another thread I wrote: “A first sentence, by definition, must be able to stand on its own. Nothing precedes it and that which follows is dependent on what it says.” In this instance you tick both of my preferred boxes, and yet, for me, it fails: why?
quote:Originally posted by Drew:
The cinema was near empty tonight.
I have a problem with the phrasing of this sentence. The use of the term ‘near’ catches in my mind and causes my reading flow to stumble--if that makes any kind of sense. It makes what should be a simple statement a torrid read. And, in further consideration (while I’m writing this) I think you could drop the ‘tonight’. Is it necessary at this point? Time of day seems to be irrelevant in a cinema.
The time of day is sort of relevant, as this is the last showing of the day, and she'll decide to walk home alone instead of getting a ride from her boyfriend. I wanted to make the coming accident to stem directly from her choices, and also to be a product of her virtue, if that makes any sense. Her love of the film caused a rift, she decides to walk home alone, and so on.
The awkward wording of the first sentence is totally my fault for trying to avoid an -ly adverb. I probably should have just kept it.
(isn't it interesting how the word awkward has this weird WKW thing going on? As if the word is the visual representation of the emotion... huh. The things you notice.)
quote:Originally posted by Grumpy old guy: Hope you find these sparse observations useful.
Phil.
I do. I really do. Thank you. Posts: 76 | Registered: Apr 2019
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That has yet to be proven. Let's see if I actually put it into practice.
quote:Originally posted by Jay Greenstein: But there are hundreds more. And the fact that you're missing them, combined with your existing writing reflexes "grabbing the controls" is sabotaging the rewrite.
I am an eager student, and I know you don't have to teach me the basics. I appreciate the time you've all taken.
quote:Originally posted by Jay Greenstein: Your first inclination as a storyteller is to "set the scene." So, the majority of the rewrite is devoted to things that could be seen in the video version, but which aren't relevant to the protagonist in his moment of now.
When you open with “The cinema was near empty tonight,” that’s what the protagonist concludes as a result of observation, in six words. But then, you, the author, drop in an essay of 132 words on who’s there, cataloging visual detail in a medium that can't reproduce the image or the ambiance he responds to.
That clicks. You have a great way of explaining. I just lept right out of her headspace into a video camera and started recording facts. Uhg. Okay Drew. Now put it into practice. -_-
quote:Originally posted by Jay Greenstein: So unless there's a reason, plot-wise, for him to notice to that level of detail; unless it directly influences what he does/says next, why do we, as readers, care, given that we don’t yet know what’s going on, where we are in time and space, and who we are? Those three issues give a reader context. So lacking them, when they need it to make the scene meaningful is a "shot ourselves in the foot," kind of problem.
That level of detail is only relevant as it pertains to her story, and I can see that it really doesn't unless I make it more involved with her. Less Cinemascope and more Galwinscope.
quote:Originally posted by Jay Greenstein: Look at line two: “Sparse regulars occupied the plush seats like islands in a dim sea, the space between them further than even the saltiest sailors would dare to sail.” These are visual details that the protagonist has seen many times, so mentioning them is the author explaining, not the protagonist noticing.
0_0 I never even considered that this would be a routine sight for her. That's interesting. So, I should focus on what she herself would be focused on, not just trying to paint a scene for the sake of having a scene. Wow, okay.
quote:Originally posted by Jay Greenstein: And of course, talking about the space between seats in a theater as you have, in an attempt to “jazz-up” the telling, is pretty well into purple prose.
Funny thing, even as I wrote that I could feel my ego smiling. You can practically taste the lavender. XD
quote:Originally posted by Jay Greenstein: My point? You’ve picked up on an important point, one most hopeful writers never do learn. And you deserve both credit and praise for having done that. It will serve you well. But you’re missing the same kind of epiphany on other critical issues, as well.
The good news? You already know how cool it is to catch on to such things, and the opportunities it creates for more exciting and real prose. So learning that there’s more, each of which will make as great a difference in the readability of your prose, is something to look forward to. And each of them will have as great an effect on the flow, and the planning and presentation of the story. Is a good thing.
With that one issue, your protagonist just became your co-writer, to an extent, because you now must present the action in that character’s viewpoint. Now, you need to pick up the tricks of presenting that viewpoint, and ending a scene, and....
Careful. I think I feel that ego smile coming back. Seriously, though, thank you for pointing out what I'm getting right. You guys are really good at this critique thing.
To play devil's advocate, this scene isn't ended in thirteen lines. Unless there's something I'm missing. There's probably something I'm missing.
quote:Originally posted by Jay Greenstein: That article I linked to can be a huge help. But the book it’s condensed from hits many more points than that one, and is well worth a look.
I'll see what the library has to offer. You're referring to the "Writing Fiction for Dummies" book, correct? Sounds about my speed.
Thank you. I can't imagine tackling this work without this community's assistance and guidance. So glad I joined.
posted
"near empty" contains a "flat adverb" unique to North America dialects, U.S. and southern and far western parts of Canada that border the U.S., wide deprecation for all other British Commonwealth and ex-Commonwealth dialects.
Flat adverbs are most often conjunctive adverbs that start a sentence or clause or fall most anywhere in a sentence, and are comma separated if remote from a true sentence verb. Ordinal number adverbs, for example:
First, Galwin sold tickets. U.S.
Firstly, Galwin sold tickets. British
For more about "flat adverbs," see Webster's Dictionary of English Usage.
"Near" can be an adverb itself, or preposition, a particle of a multiple-word verb, adjective, or a verb itself.
quote:Originally posted by Jay Greenstein: Look at line two: “Sparse regulars occupied the plush seats like islands in a dim sea, the space between them further than even the saltiest sailors would dare to sail.” These are visual details that the protagonist has seen many times, so mentioning them is the author explaining, not the protagonist noticing.
0_0 I never even considered that this would be a routine sight for her. That's interesting. So, I should focus on what she herself would be focused on, not just trying to paint a scene for the sake of having a scene. Wow, okay.
Yes, yes, yes! Absolutely (pardon the -ly word).
Focusing on what your point-of-view character focuses on not only puts the reader into that character's head, but it shows the reader things about the character that you don't have to "tell" them.
You might want to consider something along the lines of the theater may have been almost empty for the last show, but drunk old Bob Gantry was there - while indicating that Galwin is the one who is noticing this.
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posted
Damon Knight, Creating Short Fiction, page 133, graphs forty-two narrative points of view. The table distinguishes viewpoint persona types, grammar person, degree of psychic access to thoughts, if any, subjective-objective insider-outsider axis, and number of viewpoint personas. Knight rejects thirteen of the forty-two and remarks three are rare. The ones Knight rejects are uncommon, suit rarest situations, though rarely work for many readers.
Most favored narrative points of view: third-person, close, limited, and first-person's by default close and limited mannerisms. First-person faces steep resistance if the challenges of the perpendicular pronoun "I" are unmet.
Third, close, limited challenges writers and readers, too. The narrative point of view more or less substitutes for first-person, metaphor-like. And is among the more flexible regards auxiliary, attendant narrative points of view, especially for novels.
The cognition acrobatics third, close, limited asks of writers and readers are beyond inexperienced readers' intellectual aptitudes. Humans begin limited development of that degree of abstract cognition in the late teen years and farther into adulthood, if ever. More than a few don't.
University creative writing and literature instructors' ready familiarity for traditional proses' traditional outsider narrative points of view leaves them more favorable to detached to remote to middle distance outsider, third-person narrators. That audience amounts to a few hundred thousand potential readers worldwide.
A third-person, variable distance, limited short story example of excellence: Joyce Carol Oates' "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been." The narrative starts detached and seamlessly moves toward remote, middle, close, to a danger-close personal distance end, dramatic movement itself.
The start, of note, nonetheless upsets emotional equilibrium. Actually, emotional disequilibrium movement starts for savvy readers at the title's allusions to a parent's expressed concerns for a wayward teen and a Book of Judges biblical allegory.
The short story recounts a young woman's personal introduction journey into adult sexuality's contrary privileges, responsibilities, delights, perils, and horrors. In other words, contains personal motivations, stakes at risk, complication and conflict throughout, and a specific personal motion portrait that transcends a small life for larger-than-life, global substance.
All this said to say, narrative point of view and persona viewpoints, personal motivations and stakes and attitudes, from start to end, shape a lively, vivid narrative of any length.
The latest fragment, third version, aside from a few awkward language considerations, jumbles narrative point of, lacks emotional disequilibrium movement, motivations, and stakes. The tone and attitude are fraught with unrealized portentous substance, though the haloed heads stands out as a useful portent motif of haloed demon angels potential. The descriptions are vivid though dramatically lackluster portents, that is, are mime.
Would Galwin express a stronger personal attitude about pivotal to her circumstances? Would artful contradictions counter her personal belief errors? Would she show a motivation force, a personal want or problem, or want-problem? Would she risk personal stakes? Such pivotal facets defuse mime and entrain emotional disequilibrium movement.
Those are much to place in thirteen lines. The fragment takes an apt leisure time for detail descriptions. A consideration or strategy might likewise appreciate an apt leisure time for focused dramatic movement setup. Some readers want a rapid start; others, a medium pace; others, a quiet pace; rare few want a slow, no, or reversed movement start. More so, a given narrative wants an emotional pace from a start that suits a central topic.
Want introduction is a least challenge. Problem introduction is next most. Stakes risked introductions are next most. Tone and attitude are greater challenges, albeit, due to all our human lives we are directed to not make a public spectacle scene. Okay -- glorious to make a scene on the sacred prose page.
Therein, as much as more than a few writers may resist, a social-moral topic subtext is the appeal feature of substance, an eventual, discovered personal moral truth -- what an apt narrative is truly about.
Descriptions of Galwin's journey as self-inflicted problems raises several possible proverbs (social-moral message features): a self is a self's worst enemy, sublime; or, no proverb for this yet, wants one: assign blame for the self's faults, trespasses, vices, and follies to others (external blame assignment). Something to the effect of, You can only assign external blame if you are the one to blame in the first place (a cognitive inversion in that, irony, a feature of proverbs' appeals).
A novel that discovers the latter's moral truth, if suggested soon, if not from a title, would hopelessly engage me. More appeal if, at some point latter half in a narrative, a title's full import is realized, especially if a new proverb coined therefrom.
posted
Here's my latest rewrite. I can already see the improvement. The first line feels a little wonky to me, though. Maybe it's fine. Probably not.
The night shift ticket girl was unhappy that the cinema was nearly empty again, despite the fact that the audience in the plush chairs before her were enjoying her favorite classic film. Well, most of them were. She had slipped in to watch the movie and amusingly noted a teenage couple in the back row exploring their own plot lines. They didn't upset her, though she should probably tell Kieth if they start distracting the other patrons. Her boyfriend running the ancient projector moonlighted as usher. She was miffed that old Bob Gantry was here again, the town's resident philosopher drunk. He always crumpled down in the seventh row to the far right of the theater, dressed in his shabby blue poncho and knit cap, a potent whiskey aura guaranteeing his solitude.
I had to snip the last part to fit within 13 lines. It doesn't hold many alterations, though I do identify Bob as an old sailor instead of just an old guy, and added the word 'cold' to the line about 'nights like this', to make it clear why Bob is allowed in for free. I also changed 'audience' to be infinitive instead of definitive. Tiny edits I don't think anyone would object to.
Oh, and I changed her boyfriend's name from Robert to Kieth. One Bob is enough. hehe
I just checked out English Grammar for Dummies from my local library, and put a purchase suggestion in for them to buy Writing Fiction for Dummies. I learned there is a writing group that meets once a month, which I plan to attend. Things are moving right along. Wish me luck! Posts: 76 | Registered: Apr 2019
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quote:Originally posted by extrinsic: The cognition acrobatics third, close, limited asks of writers and readers are beyond inexperienced readers' intellectual aptitudes. Humans begin limited development of that degree of abstract cognition in the late teen years and farther into adulthood, if ever. More than a few don't.
I think that you're saying that third-person, close, limited narrative distance is too challenging for young adults. Are you sure? I thought that's what I should strive for. Am I mistaken? This is a bit confusing. 0_o
quote:Originally posted by extrinsic: A third-person, variable distance, limited short story example of excellence: Joyce Carol Oates' "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been." The narrative starts detached and seamlessly moves toward remote, middle, close to a danger-close personal distance end, dramatic movement itself.
The possibility that narration could move about had occurred to me when I first learned about narrative distance, but I rightly assumed it was beyond my ability to pull off. Perhaps someday.
quote:Originally posted by extrinsic: The latest fragment, third version, aside from a few awkward language considerations, jumbles narrative point of, lacks emotional disequilibrium movement, motivations, and stakes. The tone and attitude are fraught with unrealized portentous substance, though the haloed heads stands out as a useful portent motif of haloed demon angels potential. The descriptions are vivid though dramatically lackluster portents, that is, are mime.
I hope I've addressed this in my latest rewrite.
quote:Originally posted by extrinsic: Descriptions of Galwin's journey as self-inflicted problems raises several possible proverbs (social-moral message features): a self is a self's worst enemy, sublime; or, no proverb for this yet, wants one: assign blame for the self's faults, trespasses, vices, and follies to others (external blame assignment). Something to the effect of, You can only assign external blame if you are the one to blame in the first place (a cognitive inversion in that, irony, a feature of proverbs' appeals).
A novel that discovers the latter's moral truth, if suggested soon, if not from a title, would hopelessly engage me. More appeal, if at some point latter half in a narrative, a title's full import is realized, especially if a new proverb coined therefrom.
I am aware of the notion, and I'm sure it will come into play in some form. The reason I want her choices and virtues to propel her into the story is not to make the event a mistake, but a natural outcome of who she is as a person. I want to put a good person in a bad situation and make it so that it's not fated, but inevitable that a good person would end up here. She's (I'm) not a bad kid because bad things happen to her (me). I think that's what I'm going for.
You make it so hard for me, sometimes I wish I had an eXtrinsic-Drewish dictionary. XD
Posts: 76 | Registered: Apr 2019
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quote:Originally posted by extrinsic: The cognition acrobatics third, close, limited asks of writers and readers are beyond inexperienced readers' intellectual aptitudes. Humans begin limited development of that degree of abstract cognition in the late teen years and farther into adulthood, if ever. More than a few don't.
I think that you're saying that third-person, close, limited narrative distance is too challenging for young adults. Are you sure? I thought that's what I should strive for. Am I mistaken? This is a bit confusing. 0_o
Third, close, limited narrative point of view is within more than a few practiced or intuitive young readers' ranges. More experience, more facility for abstract cognition. Irony's many splendors start from sarcasm aptitudes at a young age. The cognitive dissonances, if reconciled, of middle childhood age double binds set up for enhanced abstract cognition and irony aptitudes.
Double-bind example: Dad away on business, Mom's dinner table discipline. "You know your father doesn't like elbows on the table." Huh? She does mind or doesn't mind? Or is the true motivation otherwise? Otherwise and more. Maybe even a deliberate double-bind lesson.
Some young people come too late to cognitive dissonance reconciliation experiences, develop little more than limited sarcasm aptitudes. From enhanced early cognitive inversion experience comes enhanced abstract cognition and irony aptitudes. Later ages may acquire an abstraction aptitude through deliberate efforts rather than natural processes.
I was fully abstract-clued in at a young age, though held back by not allowed to have any personal position and not allowed trial-and-error exploration and assertion of those positions. I was told, by parents, by teachers, by all and sundry, what to think, believe, do, know, feel. I understood at age five what the proverb "Little pitchers have big ears" meant, that adults often said about my childhood eavesdrop occasions. A precocious abstract cognition aptitude, that has increased since and served me well all my life.
Regards an "eXtrinsic-Drewish dictionary," dictionaries help; descriptive narratology texts decipher the labyrinthine cosmos. From Aristotle to infinity and beyond!
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-_-' First sentence and I'm back to using passive voice. I knew there's something wonky there.
The unhappy night shift ticket girl lamented at the nearly empty cinema while the audience in plush chairs before her enjoyed her favorite classic film.
I'll get it. I swear!
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posted
The first line feels less wonky now, and also a couple other places I noticed I was lapsing back into passive voice. Here goes again....
The unhappy night shift ticket girl lamented at the nearly empty cinema while the audience in plush chairs before her enjoyed her favorite classic film. Well, most of them did. She had just slipped in to watch the movie and amusingly noted a teenage couple in the back row exploring their own plot lines. They didn't upset her. If they start distracting the other patrons, though she would tell Kieth; her boyfriend running the ancient projector moonlighted as usher. Old Bob Gantry is here again, and this is the cause of her displeasure. He is the town's resident philosopher drunk, and he always crumpled down in the seventh row to the far right of the theater, dressed in his shabby blue poncho and knit cap, a potent whiskey aura guaranteed his solitude.
Not sure if guaranteeing or guaranteed. :/
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posted
"The night shift ticket girl was unhappy that the cinema was nearly empty again, despite the fact that the audience in the plush chairs before her were enjoying her favorite classic film."
Static voice, is not passive voice, the sentence is active voice. Grammar voice is a complex and difficult topic. Passive and active voices are grammar handbook topics; static voice discussed only here at Hatrack and Seymour Chatman, Story and Discourse and Wayne Booth, The Rhetoric of Fiction, so far.
Ms. Dalton Woodbury introduced static and dynamic voice concepts to Hatrack for distinct labels about active voice to be diction and syntax confused for passive voice. Similar grammar handbook topics include definiteness and finiteness degrees.
Dynamic voice is an opposite of static voice.
Dynamic and active voice, robust enough, though a throwaway introduction sentence:
"The unhappy night shift ticket girl lamented at the nearly empty cinema while the audience in plush chairs before her enjoyed her favorite classic film."
Remote outsider narrator, there and overall, third-person, remote, limited, for now, for the latest fragment version. That traditional narrative point of view occasions closer and closer and middle and remote distance variants later on, and multiple viewpoint personas.
Another proverb for consideration, re bad things happen to good people: No good deed goes punished.
posted
Okay. It's clear I don't get this. I just put a hold on both of our host's books on writing. I'm hoping Characters and Viewpoints will lead to more eureka moments.
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I think this is going to take some major head wrapping. I'll pour over the text and links you provided. Maybe having a few more ways of explaining it will help me see what you're telling me.![[Big Grin]](biggrin.gif)
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Natch.![[Razz]](tongue.gif)
I can go with the flow, though. I'll check out that film. If nothing else, another film for the fodder pile. Thank you. 
