Writing

Beginnings

The Twirl and Swirl of Letters

Last night, between hacking my lungs out and listening to my neighbors’ cheesy-awesome 1980’s tunes, I started writing Per Ardua ad Astra (bit of a mouthful, by no means is this the final title).

Beginning a story is difficult for me. I have no problem writing internal scenes, even endings, but the whole first-impression thing…I feel that if I can’t strike the right tone with the opening line, the rest of the book will suffer. Look at some of famous opening lines:

“Marley was dead to begin with.” A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

“In a hole in the ground lived a hobbit.” The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien.

“Midway in our life’s journey, I went astray from the straight road and woke to find myself alone in a dark wood.” Inferno by Dante Alighieri.

“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense.” Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone by JK Rowling.

These opening lines capture the essence of the stories to follow. As for me, my opening line is pseudo-epic and quite frankly, reeks. It doesn’t fit with the vibe that I hope to achieve. Oh well. That’s what rewrites are for!

And I’m not going to rewrite a scene until I’m completely done. Unless I come up with a better beginning.

Life. It happens.

The Twirl and Swirl of Letters

Sorry for my lack of posts! The semester started up, and getting with the swing of classes means blogging time is at minimum priority. But fear not! I have some good ideas for posts up my sleeves; I just need to write them.

On an unfortunate note, NaNoWriMo might not happen this year. I have several term papers due this November, so novel writing will be second to report writing.

But that could be a good thing. I’ll no longer feel guilty about writing scenes and other portions of the novel NOW. Removing the stress could keep me a little saner, and ultimately result in better work, both academic and literary.

But November is still nearly two months away. Things could change in those two months.

Oh the humanity!

General Geekiness, The Twirl and Swirl of Letters

District 9, the new movie directed by Neill Blomkamp, is a remarkable film. A friend and I saw it this afternoon; I didn’t really know what to expect. I knew the very basic premise; these aliens (nicknamed “Prawns”) get stuck in Johannesburg and are trying to get home.

I enjoyed it; the first hour or so features fingernail violence and vomiting (two things that made me watch my palms for a few minutes), but the story is good and the main characters are sympathetic.

What got me the most was the parallels between the two main characters, the human Wikus van de Merwe and prawn Christopher Johnson. While I won’t go into the specifics of the story, both characters share a similar motive: they both want only to return home and back to the lives they knew.

Wikus is an intriguing character, in the fact that you begin by being annoyed with him, but by the end, you root for him. He’s not entirely good; he’s selfish, cowardly, self-serving government flunkie. But that’s okay. By the end of the movie, I was quite fond of him.

The film isn’t without its flaws. There are plot holes, obvious social commentary (not that it isn’t well done, it’s just readily apparent), and some faulty logic (how Wikus gets with the prawn is a bit contrived).  If the viewer suspends logic for a while, goes along with the ride, and just looks to be entertained, District 9 is the movie for you.

The ending is left open for a sequel, but I don’t think one is necessary. Sometimes open endings are the best ones; they let you draw your own conclusions.

Of course, high tolerance of fingernail violence is key.

Your Library is Your Portrait

The Twirl and Swirl of Letters

I found this quote on Sputnitsa’s blog; its by Holbrook Johnson.

Coincidentally, a friend of mine posted a meme about fifteen books that have really stuck with you. I decided to participate, so here are my books.

1. Master and Commander by Patrick O’Brian:  I read this book and was hooked on the time period; I think I’ve read it five or six times.
2. The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien: I had one of my senior portraits taken with the giant, red bound edition of this book.
3. Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones: One of my favorites; it makes me happy every time I read it.
4. The War of the Worlds by HG Wells: Finally read it this summer, but I’ve been enthralled with the story for years.
5. The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux: Read it before I saw the movie. I adore this book; it is so brilliantly written. I need to get my copy back.
6. Watery Grave by Bruce Alexander: Mystery+Royal Navy=right up my alley.
7. Moon by Tony Fletcher: The best biography I’ve read, hands down. I laughed, I cried, I’ve read the book twice.
8. Band of Brothers by Stephen Ambrose: Just read it this summer, but…ah! It really sticks with you; it has the perfect ending.
9. The Marble Faun by Nathaniel Hawthorne: Hawthorne+Italy. Two of my favorite nouns together! Not his best work, but my favorite.
10. Beneath a Marble Sky by John Shors: Best love story I have ever read.
11. 44 Scotland Street by Alexander McCall Smith: The characters are all so wonderfully realized; it feels like I know them personally.
12. Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson: Not my favorite RLS story (The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde ranks higher) but I’ve always wanted to make a really good movie based on this; I often joke that this is where my first Oscar will come from.
13. Macbeth by William Shakespeare: My favorite Shakespeare play; Julius Caesar oddly comes close.
14. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle: I’ve become even more observant, if that’s hard to believe.
15. The Irregulars by Jennet Conant: I’ve become obsessed with Roald Dahl’s early work, and it piqued my interest in Leslie Howard and David Ogilvy.

Strangely, a third of the list are books that I read this summer.

A Certain Time

The Twirl and Swirl of Letters

Well, I’ve decided on a specific time period for my WIP (hurray). The height of the Battle of Britain, 1940.

This provides its own unique challenges.  Most of my other stories have a hazy, indefinite time period. One is set some time between 1793 and 1805, most in the latter half of the 20th century.

This WIP, having its set time frame, means that I just can’t make up too much stuff. Research, lovely research; no sarcasm here, I love it. Weather, and of course the dates/times of actual battles. I’ll have to make sure it feels like its the summer/fall of 1940, probably by referencing newspaper articles, popular songs, and, of course, speeches by Winston Churchill.

I’m thinking about the plotting and having my characters experience personal turmoil while the war is raging on around them. There’s some potential there, especially once the Blitz gets started.

Writing Longhand: A Love Hate Relationship

The Twirl and Swirl of Letters

I’ve been thinking about how I write. Not my style, but the physical action of writing.

For myself, I make sure that I write at least one page (front and back) in longhand daily. There’s something truly breathtaking to see your words on a sheet of paper in crisp, blue ink. I need to do it. My hands tend to hurt after typing for long periods of time (back in March, I could barely hold a pen due to incessant blogging); longhand is the only thing that makes my hand feel better.

Will I ever write an entire first draft longhand? I’m not sure. My favorite writer, Patrick O’Brian, did. Scores of writers pre-typewriters did (probably all except poor blind Milton who narrated everything).

This isn’t to say that my handwriting is by any means decent. It isn’t. Imagine a chicken’s claw dipped in ink; this chicken has had a few caligraphy lessons and attempts to mimick the hobbit alphabet mixed with standard cursive. There you go.

Cursive is something I struggled with. People say that those children who draw all the time will end up with beautiful penmanship because they know how to hold a pencil; not true. I’m a pretty good artist, by no means Raphael, but good enough to minor in Graphic Design (and yes, I draw everything by hand). Despite my artistic leanings, my handwriting sinks to new lows every year; it is better than my days as a third grader when my teacher kept me in from recess to work on my L’s and Q’s.

There is a beauty in the physically written word that the word processor lacks. While words can appear on the screen quicker, changes can be made, and paper isn’t “wasted,” something is missing. I know people who are only a few years younger than I who do not know how to write in cursive.

Can you imagine only receiving notes from loved ones that are typed and sent across a computer screen? A love email does not have the same weight as a handwritten note, even if the words are the same. Handwriting is personal, it displays time and care. Typing? It’s quick and gets the point across.

That is to say, I do not hate typing. I’m quite proficient in it; I type quicker than I write in longhand. But when writing fiction, I feel as though I don’t put as much effort into it as when I write longhand. See my NaNoWriMo draft from last year (so much fun producing such drivel).