Can't decant my brain.
Mar. 11th, 2010 09:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serynThis week's episode of Chuck was great. I really liked it. What I liked most was that all the characters stopped being bitchy to each other. The writing was really tight too. A lot of recent episodes have been slovenly. Like they expected Superman could carry everyone then hired the Kent guy from Superman Returns.
I have this urge to write. I'm not sure what I would write or where I would start. Usually when I get a story, it jumps into my brain and does a touchdown dance. The hardest part is writing fast enough that what gets highlighted is what actually tells the story. I have written something by pushing it and it's mediocre at best--- I can see glimpses of what I wanted it to be, but unless you live in my head, you're not seeing the story shake its ass.
Today's story is leaning toward the characters from Julian's Head. No, that won't mean anything to you. I started with a vignette about college guys playing Chutes and Ladders using the heads from Barbie dolls as markers/meeples. Julian, though, I know him well enough to know that he got those doll heads from his best friend's younger sister. I know the girl loves Julian even though he's 11 years older than she is. I know Julian knows this and his friend is oblivious and irresponsible. About a year later I wrote the Christmas vignette where Julian lifts the girl to help her hang ornaments.
There's everything in these characters. The conflict is obvious. But I've got nothing. I can keep showing the world snippets, but no one knows Julian like I know him. I have no plot. There's nothing to stretch these characters around like clay over an armature. I need an external conflict before I can explain why I'm thinking about what I'm thinking about. I'm pretty sure that, without context, everyone is going to think I'm a sicko. I'm not entirely sure context will make it better.
I've realized one of the problems with fiction... my life doesn't have a plot. Sure, stuff happens, but the events tend to be temporally contained. Huge traumatic medical issues... took months to resolve and still recur sometimes, but either you drill down and write about the mystery and endurance and resolution as its own story, or it's merely a chapter. My life is not defined or reflected microcosmically by a war or a sudden change in the mythground (paranormal shit starts happening when it didn't exist before). I get up, I plod through my day and obligations, I go to bed and the day repeats. Most people live like that... some of them have children whose lives seem like they're arcing to be a story of their own, but children are not just plot echoes.
I remember being in school, at all levels, and every day had new things. Every day had lots of demanding expectations. Most days were mentally challenging if not actually difficult. It felt like nothing could ever stay the same and I felt like I couldn't keep up with how weird everything felt. Strange because we didn't move, I went to the expected schools with everyone else, classes weren't all that hard, but everything was all swirly all the time. Anyone who wanted to see entropy just had to watch my life for 2 minutes. I just wanted it to stop. Well, it did. I appreciate it a lot actually.
But I can't even imagine what I can tell you about Julian or what happens to him so I can show you who Julian really is.
I have this urge to write. I'm not sure what I would write or where I would start. Usually when I get a story, it jumps into my brain and does a touchdown dance. The hardest part is writing fast enough that what gets highlighted is what actually tells the story. I have written something by pushing it and it's mediocre at best--- I can see glimpses of what I wanted it to be, but unless you live in my head, you're not seeing the story shake its ass.
Today's story is leaning toward the characters from Julian's Head. No, that won't mean anything to you. I started with a vignette about college guys playing Chutes and Ladders using the heads from Barbie dolls as markers/meeples. Julian, though, I know him well enough to know that he got those doll heads from his best friend's younger sister. I know the girl loves Julian even though he's 11 years older than she is. I know Julian knows this and his friend is oblivious and irresponsible. About a year later I wrote the Christmas vignette where Julian lifts the girl to help her hang ornaments.
There's everything in these characters. The conflict is obvious. But I've got nothing. I can keep showing the world snippets, but no one knows Julian like I know him. I have no plot. There's nothing to stretch these characters around like clay over an armature. I need an external conflict before I can explain why I'm thinking about what I'm thinking about. I'm pretty sure that, without context, everyone is going to think I'm a sicko. I'm not entirely sure context will make it better.
I've realized one of the problems with fiction... my life doesn't have a plot. Sure, stuff happens, but the events tend to be temporally contained. Huge traumatic medical issues... took months to resolve and still recur sometimes, but either you drill down and write about the mystery and endurance and resolution as its own story, or it's merely a chapter. My life is not defined or reflected microcosmically by a war or a sudden change in the mythground (paranormal shit starts happening when it didn't exist before). I get up, I plod through my day and obligations, I go to bed and the day repeats. Most people live like that... some of them have children whose lives seem like they're arcing to be a story of their own, but children are not just plot echoes.
I remember being in school, at all levels, and every day had new things. Every day had lots of demanding expectations. Most days were mentally challenging if not actually difficult. It felt like nothing could ever stay the same and I felt like I couldn't keep up with how weird everything felt. Strange because we didn't move, I went to the expected schools with everyone else, classes weren't all that hard, but everything was all swirly all the time. Anyone who wanted to see entropy just had to watch my life for 2 minutes. I just wanted it to stop. Well, it did. I appreciate it a lot actually.
But I can't even imagine what I can tell you about Julian or what happens to him so I can show you who Julian really is.
