[[May the great gods bless you always,
may the heavens & earth calm your mind.]]
Reader -- it's I, humble scribe. Your humble scribe.
Here is how this will work.
A timer is set for 71 minutes. At that timer's conclusion, these words will be posted. Etched into clay for (lol) posterity. I, their poor and inadequate author, will be permitted to add links to any words that must go out to the webs; perhaps if, in doing so, I see a literal word that is literally missing I will be allowed to supply it. I will be honest about that, and limit myself to that.
That's all.
Let's go.
Quoted immediately below is an introductory digression that was written when there was all the time to write this (and, consequently, it sat unfinished for weeks). You could skip it, perhaps should! But it will remain -- in full candor.
Here's an introduction, in the form of me losing my $h1t @ myself.
These are selected notes from various unspecified locations of a read-through I recently completed of (the latest drafts of) [[the first five columns of Erra's Throne.]]
NO it doesn't work, James. This way of doing it, sneaking it in with "good" writing because it's ostensibly an observation that builds world and character The observation rings hollow, because it's the product of ulterior, expositional motives And the exposition is not even clear it's dishonest, and the reader knows; even if she does not know, she knows
you want to put in a note re: all these efforts, each time, where you try to crowbar in information
and do something "interesting" or formally cute, as if that will make it okay
it does not
it is crowbarred in nonsense
who cares if they get the Sibitti stuff
who cares if they…anything backstory, backdrop
surely, obviously — none of that matters
all of these things are wrongheaded
and you know it!
my gosh it's so bad
it's so an agenda
it's broken
you broke it
it was probably broken before, to be fair
but you broke it more
w/ your threads
and your seeding
only immediate story
it's not an ideology
it's a fact
only immediate story — anything else: fail
Alright, we're back from the reading notes, now. Ah who cares. Who cares? Who cares, who cares, cares? Do you care? You should not. Okay but no: keep going.
There are several things going on in the stream of notes, above. They are reactions against
(1) crowbarring itself, i.e., the forcing of elements into the story; but / and / also
(2) the cutesiness and nonsense that I--your humble scribe, that's me--am frequently guilty of throughout the first seven or eight or nine drafts of a thing (and, in some sad awful cases, in the drafts that are pressed into clay for your eyes).
The two notes that are red, by the way, are red basically because I got so mad. What happens is: I am reading the story on my Kindle; I make one, two, three four consecutive notes regarding the wrongheadedness or selfishness or narcissism of some crowbarred in detail, scene-beat, or whole scene; and when it's that last one--when it's a whole scene--basically the contempt pops my cap and I write a big note in red.
A challenge in addressing this tic to "crowbar", to add too many things, is that it or it feels like two separate impulses, one of which is good and one of which is bad.
The bad one-- well actually, both may be addressed more in subsequent posts. But let's start with the bad one, which is the narcissist 'world-builders' impulse to 'get it all in'; this idea that the reader should know or should care about details of whatever alternate reality the work is set in that are outside the story. The idea that--because some aspect of that world was breathed into the author's mind by the gods--a reader would or should care at all about that.
That idea is upsetting (to me!).
But the good idea is: you want things to be clear. It's really that simple. You want things to be clear, and so 'well perhaps it would be good to introduce these facts here'-- or, honestly, it's not even that calculated. You'll simply be writing or revising, and in the natural flow will find a digression inserting itself, the idea being to explicate facts / events for the Reader.
you've used up 35 minutes
may the heavens & earth calm your mind.]]
Reader -- it's I, humble scribe. Your humble scribe.
Here is how this will work.
A timer is set for 71 minutes. At that timer's conclusion, these words will be posted. Etched into clay for (lol) posterity. I, their poor and inadequate author, will be permitted to add links to any words that must go out to the webs; perhaps if, in doing so, I see a literal word that is literally missing I will be allowed to supply it. I will be honest about that, and limit myself to that.
That's all.
Let's go.
Quoted immediately below is an introductory digression that was written when there was all the time to write this (and, consequently, it sat unfinished for weeks). You could skip it, perhaps should! But it will remain -- in full candor.
I had wanted to do this like, perfect. Like: "wow." Thoughts fully formed, novel & familiar, about (ahem) 'the process.' Arguments, observations, feelings, granularities of the transmission through prose of event, person, experience. I wanted this to be good because I wanted it to be useful to you; because I was and am aware of an inherent selfishness in my own motivations, a solipsistic unburdening.
So, but, oh well. Fair warning: these thoughts aren't fully formed; they're not novel; they probably are familiar.
Basically, what you're getting is the solipsism. In which--who knows--perhaps you will also find pieces of you.
Here we go.I want to write about something I've taken to calling crowbarring. Meaning, basically, 'forcing in, in an ill-advised and undesirable way.'
Here's an introduction, in the form of me losing my $h1t @ myself.
These are selected notes from various unspecified locations of a read-through I recently completed of (the latest drafts of) [[the first five columns of Erra's Throne.]]
o my G*d
you're just adding more stuff
all this is just adding more stuff
no more
write
NO it doesn't work, James. This way of doing it, sneaking it in with "good" writing because it's ostensibly an observation that builds world and character The observation rings hollow, because it's the product of ulterior, expositional motives And the exposition is not even clear it's dishonest, and the reader knows; even if she does not know, she knows
you want to put in a note re: all these efforts, each time, where you try to crowbar in information
and do something "interesting" or formally cute, as if that will make it okay
it does not
it is crowbarred in nonsense
who cares if they get the Sibitti stuff
who cares if they…anything backstory, backdrop
surely, obviously — none of that matters
all of these things are wrongheaded
and you know it!
my gosh it's so bad
it's so an agenda
[note: the following comment is about a different, apparently equally unsatisfactory, scene]
it's broken
you broke it
it was probably broken before, to be fair
but you broke it more
w/ your threads
and your seeding
only immediate story
it's not an ideology
it's a fact
only immediate story — anything else: fail
Alright, we're back from the reading notes, now. Ah who cares. Who cares? Who cares, who cares, cares? Do you care? You should not. Okay but no: keep going.
There are several things going on in the stream of notes, above. They are reactions against
(1) crowbarring itself, i.e., the forcing of elements into the story; but / and / also
(2) the cutesiness and nonsense that I--your humble scribe, that's me--am frequently guilty of throughout the first seven or eight or nine drafts of a thing (and, in some sad awful cases, in the drafts that are pressed into clay for your eyes).
The two notes that are red, by the way, are red basically because I got so mad. What happens is: I am reading the story on my Kindle; I make one, two, three four consecutive notes regarding the wrongheadedness or selfishness or narcissism of some crowbarred in detail, scene-beat, or whole scene; and when it's that last one--when it's a whole scene--basically the contempt pops my cap and I write a big note in red.
A challenge in addressing this tic to "crowbar", to add too many things, is that it or it feels like two separate impulses, one of which is good and one of which is bad.
The bad one-- well actually, both may be addressed more in subsequent posts. But let's start with the bad one, which is the narcissist 'world-builders' impulse to 'get it all in'; this idea that the reader should know or should care about details of whatever alternate reality the work is set in that are outside the story. The idea that--because some aspect of that world was breathed into the author's mind by the gods--a reader would or should care at all about that.
That idea is upsetting (to me!).
But the good idea is: you want things to be clear. It's really that simple. You want things to be clear, and so 'well perhaps it would be good to introduce these facts here'-- or, honestly, it's not even that calculated. You'll simply be writing or revising, and in the natural flow will find a digression inserting itself, the idea being to explicate facts / events for the Reader.
you've used up 35 minutes
When you crowbar bad facts
The reader STILL will not get them
They won't fit
It's like throwing puzzle pieces that don't fit
On top of a puzzle
No one will get them
They don't go in the picture
And the picture is...if you can convey even that, then you're grand