The Place For My Writers Notes

Original posting 5 May 2010

or maybe exercise?

Monomane -- comic imitation -- is very popular in Japan now. The man who almost single-handedly instigated the boom in it is called kuroke (pronounced more like the food -- croquette?), but another one was on TV today talking to a group of school children. He gave them three exercises to do, for ten days, and then came back to see how they had done. You might try these, yourself.

1. Imitation repertoire -- look around, and pick something. Now imitate that thing, especially the sound, but also perhaps mannerism. As he explained, you build your imitation repertoire one item at a time, and usually pick out and exaggerate some sound or mannerism from that thing. He gave the example of a cicada -- what's the sound it makes? Kind of a shshsh through your teeth? But it gets bigger and smaller -- so move your lips while whooshing, and there you go...

2. imitation play -- take everyday objects, and let your imagination turn them into other things. As he said, sometimes you have to look from the side to do this, and take two or three looks, but see what you can turn them into. His example was a vacuum cleaner... which became a metal detector as he held it, adding sound effects, and finding a coin with it.

3. Your happiness list -- every day for ten days, write down the most exciting, happy point of the day. Just one point. Something nice happens to you every day -- make a list!

When they came back, the kids showed the results. One showed how an ordinary chair became an old person's push cart, complete with slow, hesitant walk. Another showed how a pencil sharpener became an organ grinder's music box. And so on...

The kids said the happiness lists were fun -- at first, it seemed hard to find something each day, but then they started having too many things each day, and had to pick. Apparently paying attention to happiness and fun and excitement makes it grow!

So -- give yourself a chance. Even in writing, pick out something and imitate it. How can you make us feel the sound of a waterfall -- in writing? Or what about showing us the dashing happy run of a dog across the lawn? Then consider how you might use something as a simile or metaphor, turning it into something else for your reader's mental stimulation? Finally, just for fun, consider writing one short piece about something nice that happened to you today. What happened? How did it make you feel? Can you show other people that feeling of happiness and joy through your writing?

Go ahead. Imitation is the finest flattery, and sometimes it's writing, too.

Original posting 11 September 2009

Writer's Digest, October 2008, pages 67 and 68, have an article by Dorianne Laux on poetry with the title, "The Leap." There's an exercise at the end that I will quote, but let me summarize the article first.

Dorianne points out that Spanish poetry often uses a leap into apparently unrelated imaginary material (I was reminded of the magical realism genre, but let's ignore that for the moment). A number of Spanish poets have used this technique, and in the 1960s it was introduced to America by the deep image poets. So there are number of examples of "the imaginative leap" in contemporary poetry.

Next there is an example of such a poem by Ellen Bass. "If You Knew" starts with the simple question, "what if you knew you'd be the last to touch someone?" And then it goes into some examples of what you might do if you knew that someone would die soon after you touched them. The final verse then reads:

How close does the dragon's spume
have to come? How wide does the crack
in heaven have to split?
What would people look like
if we could see them as they are
soaked in honey, stung and swollen,
reckless, pinned against time?

"If You Knew" by Ellen Bass, from The Human Line, Copper Canyon Press, 2007.

A simple if somewhat unusual question, some consideration of what you might do, and then the fantastic metaphor.

There's another example, a modern-day poetic fable by Joseph Millar, with the title, "Sole Custody." It seems to be a parent and child talking about life, and then swerves into a simile, of sailors and ships and oceans.

OK? So that's the leap, mixing a strong fantastic image or metaphor into ordinary life.

And here's the exercise...

Try a Leap

"Write an imaginative poem where you knew you ask a theoretical question and extend it for as many lines as you can. Choose your examples from different areas of life so that you look at the question from a variety of angles or viewpoints. You could also tell a brief story taken from everyday life wherein you describe many of the various physical particulars and touch on one or two emotional moments.

"From one of these two foundations, allow yourself to leap into metaphor; find an image or a series of images that can contain and expand your extended ruminations.

"This exercise can also be used to resolve and revise an existing poem you feel hasn't yet attained its fullness and power. It may not be easy to find your metaphor at first. Don't be afraid to try anything: a box, a wave, a leaf.... look at your own life and don't rule anything out.

"Another approach might be to begin with the metaphor and find the context for it later. ...

[Skip]

"You might begin by describing an extended action such as weeding the yard, sweeping the porch, or dressing for work. After you've described your actions in minute detail, take a look and see how this description could be a metaphor for something else. Make that the title of the poem"

All right? Three different formats, really, each focusing on using an imaginative metaphor. One poses the question, consider some mundane examples, and then turns fantastic. Another simply considers something about life, and adds the fantastic to it. And the third... what if our mundane life is the fantastic?

Go ahead. A heaping cup of ordinary, and a teaspoon of fantasy. Reminds me a little bit of Peter Pan sprinkling fairy dust. You can fly!

Write?

Original posting 17 November 2008

A short sketch.

It's a lovely fall morning here, with the sun shining and the air crisp. And on the way to work, one of the neighbor boys stopped me with a question. He was wearing his school uniform, black shoes, white socks, black shorts, black jacket and white shirt, little black cap, and his black leather backpack. He had been digging in the dirt, but stopped when he saw me and stood up.

Then he looked at me and asked in Japanese, "Do you know the train of snails?"

I paused, ran the question through my slow translation process again and it still came out as a train of snails, and then answered him, "No, I don't think I do."

He then pointed up the road ahead of us and advised me to watch for it.

I thanked him and went on. I will admit, I looked as I went, wondering just what he meant. I didn't see anything that seemed to fit. And at the office, I poked around some in my online Japanese resources -- yep, that's train of snails, and nope, nothing seems to fit. So I'm still a little baffled as to what he was referring to. But I do admire the image that it summons to my mind, of a set of snails, all slipping along in line, forging ahead at their pace to a goal that only snails can imagine.

There is a slight vagrant thought that the backpacks that the kids wear to school could be snail shells, but that's a pretty sophisticated metaphor for a little boy. Although now that I think about it, they do tend to line up and walk along, one after the other. No trail of spit, though . . . I doubt that he meant that. But what a fascinating image to hold up to the world on this fall morning, and wonder where it fits. A train of snails . . .

There are other neighbors who tell me that this boy is a bit odd, and to just ignore what he says. But you know, I don't think I've had anyone else introduce me to the snail express, and that's pretty cool.

inching along in the morning sunshine

Original posting 21 June 2008

Make a Scene, chapter 9: Subtext

So we're taking a look at Make a Scene by Jordan Rosenfeld. We're deep in Part 2 looking at various core elements and the scene. Setting, senses, character development and motivation, plot -- and now in Chapter 9, a look at subtext.

"Scenes often need depth or subtext, texture that links the scene to the themes and larger plot of your narrative, and fleshes them out." And Rosenfeld points out that building in subtext is often a task for the second draft or revisions, when you know the story and the characters better, and have a better understanding of the message or idea or moral of the story.

Rosenfeld suggests that good scenes have a surface -- the visible parts -- and an underbelly, the subtext, where the emotional baggage, agendas, secrets, and motivations roil. There are several techniques for creating subtext.

Thematic imagery or symbols. When you use the images that metaphorically or symbolically tie-in to the theme, this can help remind the reader of the large idea even in the middle of the tactical plot and scene. This doesn't have to be overdone -- a couple of highlights can be plenty. Plant symbols subtly, without rubbing the reader's nose in them.

Innuendo. Characters in fiction often come across truths that they don't want to admit to themselves or others -- and all too often, someone insists on reminding them. Teasing, accusation, wordplay -- this can be fun! Use innuendo to subtly point fingers, adding complication to the scene and the dialogue.

Unconscious or uncontrollable behavior. Most of the time, characters do things on purpose -- intentionally. But those unintended actions can speak louder than anything else.

Foreground and background. Even though the reader's attention is on what's happening in the foreground, you can use the background for subtle messages and emotional layers. Sure, the protagonist is about to declare his undying love -- but what's his little brother doing gagging behind him? What are the secondary characters doing while the primary characters take over the foreground?

Think of your scenes as multidimensional. You want them to be deep and complex -- so give them a rich subtext.

The assignment this week is much like that of other weeks. Start with a scene in a novel that you like or one that you're working on. Now go through and see if you can identify pieces that provides subtext in this scene. Are there images or symbols? Do characters use innuendo to suggest things? Are any of the characters doing things without thinking about it? Is something happening in the background that adds a bit more depth? Are there other techniques helping to provide subtext for this scene?

For extra credit, you can always take an entire story or novel, and think about the theme or moral underlying it. Then consider at least five ways that you might weave that theme into a scene of your choice. What imagery or symbols might you use? Is there something you could plant in the characters' dialogue? How could the unconscious behavior of one or more characters reflect that theme? What might happen behind your main action to reflect the theme?

Go ahead, write!

(heck, I think you're already playing this game - still, here it is in exercise format :-)

A quick and quirky exercise from Writer's Digest. July 2004, page 17 suggests writing a short piece and trying to cram as many cliches as possible into it. They provide a bloated parody of an inspirational piece as an example, but you can clearly do it anyway that you like. You could decide to write a 500 word review, loaded to the brim with cliches, overused metaphors, and other purple prose? Or perhaps just a personal reflection on the beauty of nose hairs, or some such delight? But lay on the cliches as thick as the lard filled sugar frosting on the wedding cake. Heap them high as the mountains, as far as the eye can see, and as thick as . . . as thick as molasses?

Oh, yes, once you've overused your cliches, the notion is that you might resist their use in the future. So don't get attached to those cliches!

here is their example:

Vocabulary-challenged writers often feel trapped between a rock and a hard place. How can you write more exciting sentences without actually learning new words? Fear not -- even if your sentences aren't exactly pushing the linguistic envelope, don't assume that, talent-wise, your glass is half-empty. You just need to think outside the box -- literally. Take a walk, see a movie, test-drive a Porsche; do anything that will get the blood flowing again. And remember, at the end of the day, the bottom line's still the same: writing isn't rocket science. Bear with it.

Go ahead, you can beat that with a stick, can't you?

The cliches have it!

Once More, With Metaphorical Enhancements!

Tossing and turning in the nanowrimo bed, we may find ourselves contemplating just what kind of a metaphor best fits? Whether it is the setting, character, plot actions, or even just the conflicts and contradictions of every scene, we may want to at least spend a few moments contemplating various possible metaphorical suits to try on. So, allow me to point out a variety that are reasonably commonly used -- at least in business. Believe it or not, there are people who actually go out and study this stuff. (Kendall and Kendall, 1993).

Anyway, what they tell us is that there are six metaphors commonly used in the world of business, especially when talking about business. They add another three that are more often heard in technical circles, but I think you might enjoy them, too, so I'll include them below. Oh, and you might find them useful in your writing, too.

The first four are very goal oriented:

• journey (where are we going? Are we there yet? A.k.a. The Quest)
• game (sports, poker, roulette, and all the other fun and games)
• war (the battle royale, combat, and all the fun of the military)
• machine (factory, meatgrinder, automobile, the clock -- mechanical technology)

The organism is the fifth metaphor, and includes all kinds of animals and plants and cells -- living things! And the fun part is that the organism is both goal oriented but also what Kendall and Kendall call alternative oriented. It sort of links the first four, with their goal orientation, with the last four, which are more organic or generative?

The last four, then, are alternative oriented:

• society (groups, organizations, that whole living together mess)
• family (parents, children, brothers, sisters, and the extended relations)
• jungle (the call of the wild, Tarzan, wild animals, strange noises)
• zoo (the civilized jungle, who is watching who?, etc.)

Kendall and Kendall have some words to say about how these are organized in terms of participation -- between being responsible or active members or just being consultants, standing outside of the action. For example, most game and journey metaphors have the actors as active members, while machine and even war to some extent are more likely to have the actors standing outside the action (although war all too often splashes onto the actors, especially if they happen to be military). They also say the family and jungle are likely to have participants, while both society and the zoo apparently tend to have observers (ah, anthropologists and visitors to the zoo?).

The other dimension that they use for looking at these metaphors is order versus chaos. Both the game and machine tend to be on the orderly side (games have rules, and mechanisms have gears?), while the journey and war are more messy (no plan survives contact with the enemy?). Similarly, families and society tend to be orderly, with the jungle and the zoo more on the chaotic side of the ledger.

So how do you use these in writing? Well, I'd suggest making a list of nine items -- I'll give it to you here:

1. Journey
2. War
3. Game
4. Organism
5. Society
6. Machine
7. Family
8. Zoo
9. Jungle

Now alongside these, pick an example for each one. Not just the abstract journey, but a specific trip to a specific place with a particular method of transportation (car, boat, horse, helicopter, etc.). For each generic metaphorical area, pick a specific concrete example. One that you know at least a little about (Google and Wikipedia can be your friend).

Then when you want to add some spice to your writing, pick a number from 1 to 9 (you've played this game before haven't you?). Now look at the metaphorical area and the specific example that you picked. How does the character, plot action, complication, conflict, setting -- whatever problem you are trying to deal with, how does it play out in terms of this metaphor? What are the similarities (gimme 5!)? What are the differences (gimme 5!)? What are some interesting thoughts about connections of any kind between what you're doing and this metaphorical playground?

I know some people run down the list until they find a metaphorical area that interests them or excites them. That's okay, although I think sometimes we're likely to fall into ruts with this -- always putting it in terms of our family, or perhaps the game of croquet that we enjoy so much. Stretch a little, and try doing it with one of those metaphorical areas that you are not so comfortable with -- who knows what ideas lurk in that swamp? (yes, that's a variation on the jungle :-)

Anyway, bring those metaphors to bear on your writing, and watch the nanowrimo word count rise! Like a hot-air balloon, like fighting a war with the stars, like throwing javelins into the sky, like a bird flying, like Rome expanding across the world, like a missile climbing, like the family growing, like trained dolphins leaping in Marineland, like the vines in the jungle climbing up, up, up the trees to wave their leaves above everything -- just like that!

tink
(almost 900 words)

Kendall, J. E. & Kendall, K. E. (1993). Metaphors and methodologies: Living beyond the systems machine. MIS Quarterly, 17(2), 149- 171.

Now is dance a journey or a game? Or perhaps it's a living organism?

original posting: Thu, 12 Mar 1998 22:30:31 EST

and our friends are here below...

Analogously, similarly, and even metaphorically, consider the richness of the seas. Tropical, frozen wastes, Titanic and the iceberg, snorkeling, scuba, and submarines... strange anemones, fish floundering along, and the octopus, the squid, the ray and others, all there...

Now, while we're feeling nautical, what are you?

1. a fish (which one?)
2. a piece of plankton?
3. seaweed?
4. coral reef?
5. a meandering current
6. flotsam and jetsom
7. something else...
8. Oh, what about the whales, and seals, and little sharks and... well, there's a whole seascape for you...

Fill in the crabs, the sand, the riptides and gentle stroke, stroke, stroke of the waves...

Under the moonlight? In the turmoil at the edge of the storm? Floating lazily under warm suns?

Push that trope a bit, work it...why are you a hermit crab, stuck in a soft drink can? And what about the rest of us--where are we in your salty dreamscape?

Go ahead, enjoy the deeps and the shallows.

original posting: Mon, 5 Jan 1998 12:31:36 EST

Okay, we've recently seen the metaphoric statement "don't beat a dead horse" used repeatedly here on the list.

Think about where this comes from. No matter what you do, a dead horse won't move the wagon...

And then think about current times. Very few of us deal with horses on a regular basis anymore. So what does this saying translate into for our age?

Don't type into a computer that isn't plugged in?

Quit flicking the switch when the bulb is dead?

Don't break the key off, there's no gas in the car!

Work at it. Dream up at least five variations...select the best and work on the wording so that it has some snap, some interest.

Polish an aphorism for our times today, okay?

(and when you get tired of that dead horse stinking up the place, try reworking some of the other cliches that pile up in our common language...)