Category: A.F Journals (Page 2 of 2)

Prompt: Write an entry noting points that interested you in Chapter 4

Response: This chapter focused on the concept of point of view as well as the different POV techniques a writer can use within their own work. I found much of this chapter helpful, as the author of this section stated, I found that I just pick whatever point of view feels right. Going through the different POVs was especially helpful. In my experience, students only learn about point of view early on, but then no one ever really brings it up again. While we all know what first person, second person, and third person points of view are, it was nice to get a refresher on POVs such as first person peripheral, third person objective, and unreliable first person. The small differences between subcategories within first and third person points of view are overlooked when one begins to write out a short story or novel, but I feel like having that knowledge of specific types of POVs is helpful. Some of the biggest things I took away from this chapter were the sections regarding distance and the POV contract. Regarding distance, I realized that in order for a story to be fully fleshed out, there needs to be a consistent distance with some moments of panoramic views or other medium shots. In my own writing, I found that many of my stories tend to play it relatively safe with distance, but at the same time, I feel as though my writing becomes almost predictable as a result. The distance section made me think about switching shots during some points within a narrative in order to highlight certain scenes. The time distance was also helpful, as the two examples the author gave were very clear. The examples made me see how time distances change the pacing of a story. More immediate scenes rely on a present time distance, such as, “The look from my friends makes me realize that I said something I shouldn’t have”. While scenes set in a past tense tend to move a little slower, “I saw the look on my friends’ faces. They looked displeased. It was then that I realized that I had said something I shouldn’t have,”. Time distance is another aspect of writing that I guess I haven’t really paid much attention to in the past, so it was really helpful to get an introduction into how it can alter the pacing of a story. The last section I found helpful was the POV contract. As writers, many people hear that it is your responsibility to create an environment and story that a reader can truly be immersed in. Regardless of our creative reasoning, a sudden change in point of view may been seen as a breach of that contract between reader and writer. It takes the reader out of their immersion, makes them realize that maybe the writer can’t be trusted to stick to a format or point of view. Even if it’s by accident, any deviation in a POV that isn’t explainable by plot can lead to a writer’s downfall. I hadn’t thought about the trust between reader and writer, but the more I think about it, the more I remember about books I didn’t care for and what the author had done to make me dislike the story and craft elements of it. While topics such as point of view and distance may seem like afterthoughts in comparison to plot and character, they are incredibly important attributes of stories that can really make or break them.

Prompt: Take 15-30 minutes to write about the following: What is your writing space? Describe it. Talk about noise, distractions. Talk about how you focus and how you create. Talk about what conditions are essential for you to write.

Response: My writing space is not so much a place as it is a mindset. I’ve written during seminars and lectures, on road trips and flights, and on South African balconies overlooking the sea. Rarely do I need a desk and a lamp, although while I’m at school, that tends to be the case. Harsh yellow light reflects from my dormitory window as I type away on my laptop. The chair makes my back ache, with its hardbacked wooden frame and annoyingly curved legs. Despite this, I write as best I can, which most days, is a little more than a mediocre attempt at having my words make sense. Again, I don’t have a specific writing space, though I really should. If anything, my writing space can be anywhere, as long as I have headphones. My first pair of writing headphones was a bulky thing, with wide black cushioned pillows that squeezed my head until I thought it would burst. Back then, I really thought that those headphones literally pushed my ideas and words out from my fingertips and onto an electronic page. I’d listen to musical soundtrack after musical soundtrack. Traditional hits such as The Phantom of the Opera and Cabaret constantly rang in my head, their somber notes of romantic ideologies playing over and over. From tradition came the off-Broadway hits, like Hedwig and the Angry Inch, where I was introduced to the manic anger and desperation that would eventually find their way into my stories. After I retired my bulky pair, I was gifted with wired earbuds, my favorite pair being black with iridescent green highlights. They were actually born from an accident, when my partner accidentally knocked my laptop to the ground, coincidentally snapping the plug-in as it landed. My partner then gifted me the black earbuds, mostly I think, to clear her conscience. Through those earbuds, classic rock came. Thundering drums and sleezy-sounding guitars pronounced that all anyone should care about was sex and drums and rock and roll. Meatloaf proclaimed his insatiable appetite for riding along flaming highways and escaping the mundane ideas of society, so much so that I was moved when he plummeted to the bottom of a cliff in a blazing song, torn and twisted at the berm of a burning bike. Although, while I listened to rock and roll, I found that my words couldn’t keep up. I lacked the grittiness and lust for freedom in my words. This isn’t to say I gave up, rather, I found new inspiration. Airpods were a Christmas gift that I greedily took hold of. Blocking out the world had never been so sweet. With noise cancelling capabilities, I could block out the entire world, focusing only on my words, only on what I wanted to write. Classical music drifted through my head, with soft piano keys playing chords in major and minor, seemingly without a care in the world. Lately, I’ve found that something is missing. With music and lyrics, I had always been able to discern feeling and a rhythm for my work. Now, I feel through classical music, yet it seems wrong. I can no longer hear the conversations of my friends that accompanied Freddie Mercury’s ballads or roared over the sounds of a squealing Telecaster. Music is important to my creative work. It’s something that has always accompanied me wherever I wrote, be it train, plane, or seminar. Yet, music has never been the muse of which I write, but rather, the soundtrack cast behind the laughter of friends. I need to hear the stories of others. I need to see their joy, their sorrow, their confusion as to why I ask them how they felt during certain moments. I don’t need a place to write. I don’t need a desk or a pen. I do need people. Sometimes, I may need them a bit more than I need earbuds and music.

Prompt: Write an entry focusing on an aspect of the story, Buffalo Eastward.

Response: One aspect of Gabriel Bump’s story, Buffalo Eastward, that I found really appealing was the style and tone. Overall, the style is jumbled and fast-paced, almost like the reader has no time to truly dwell on the events of the story until the very end. The story is written in a first person point of view, which adds a sense of urgency and anxiety to throughout the entirety. Near the beginning of the story, the nameless main character, also known as the Invisible Man, states that “I have problems telling stories. I get on one track and backflip to another, running in the opposite direction,” (Bump, 2). I feel like this confession also gives a glimpse into what the pacing of the story is like for the audience, as the narrator continuously jumps from present day to the past, whether he is discussing bookshops that he visits or if he begins to dwell on a failed affair with Pidge. These flashbacks happen every so often within the narrative, which, in my opinion, gives off the impression that the audience is getting a glimpse of how the narrator’s anxious mind works. This reminds me of our discussion last week about how character and plot are intertwined. This is definitely a character-driven plot, even a character-heavy plot. We, as the audience, are forced into the narrator’s mind in order to figure out his motivations, his desires, and how he feels. There is, however, a mental blockade that keeps the audience from knowing too much about the narrator until the time is right. Obviously, the narrator has some types of mental illness, such as anxiety and depression, or even ADHD or OCD. These moments of blockage cause the narrator to switch to another topic or return to the present day. It isn’t until he gets high or drunk (or both) that the audience truly gets to see glimpses of his motivations. Why is he going to Buffalo? Why does he feel the need to leave, even though his family is being left behind? Especially when the narrator finds a sense of belonging, “I felt clear and directed, anchored…Here, I belonged,” (Bump, 15), it seems that his narration finally becomes linear and clear, and we see that the narrator focuses on what the other characters tell him in their departures. He flies when Sancho tells him to take his life (in a good way, not a suicidal way). As he runs down the stairs, which is possibly a metaphor for bringing oneself back down to earth/being realistic, he overhears a couple with similar plans to run away. While he and the audience don’t have time to dwell on it, it seems as though the narrator’s new, clear, and directed outlook focuses less on the connection to his own life, but to the message that the Gatsby characters leave for him, which is to make it. I feel like the main theme of this story is that people may feel directionless and lost at times, especially when we’re at our lowest, but we will always find people who make us feel like we belong. The sense of community can ground us, realigning us to make the most of our lives instead of dwelling on the past.

Prompt: Write an entry noting points that interested you in Gotham Writers’ Workshop, Chapter 3

Response: This chapter focuses on plot and plot structure. I was almost dreading this chapter mostly because I thought that it would focus on having a very specific outline that one would have to follow step by step. Instead, this chapter contained a lot of helpful tips when it comes to plot and the overall structure of how a short story/novel should be. The author talked about his experience with drafting and having to cut more than half of the original draft. He expressed how disappointed and upset he was, saying that he felt that most of his work was pointless. At the end of the chapter, he returned to this story, stating that many authors need to go through multiple drafts. The plot isn’t going to be completely developed the first time around, and I feel like that is a lesson that many people know, but don’t necessarily take to heart. In my experience, I had to cut the first version of a story because I hit a wall where I felt like nothing was happening. This was incredibly important though, because it allowed me to write and get to know the world and my characters, and even see problems or cliches that needed to be changed. Reading the anecdote from the author really put into perspective just how important it is to realize that plot isn’t necessarily something a writer has to figure out before they start writing. It develops as one gets acquainted with the world, themes, characters, etc. Another aspect of the chapter that I found helpful was that plot shouldn’t feel like real life. In some cases yes, it is important to have some mundane aspects, but those parts need to progress the plot. Maybe there’s a story about an accountant, but in order to give insight into how the character reacts to the world around them, the author describes the accountant’s walk to work. Just describing the walk would be a little boring, but maybe they decide to put a closed sideway in the character’s path, which leads the character down a side street where they witness a robbery. This in turn moves the plot along while having a glimpse into mundane life. On the other hand, the author warned about having too much real life in stories. Brushing teeth, combing hair, making breakfast, can be great character building exercises, but they won’t help move the plot along. I find that sometimes in my writing, I either move too quickly or too slowly, so hearing what is truly important to plot can help me narrow down what scenes to include or delete.

Prompt: Write an entry noting points that interested you in Gotham Writers’ Workshop, Chapter 2.

Response: This chapter focused solely on character. All facets of character are completely under the author’s control, from personality traits to physical appearance. I think most writers place a lot of time and effort on characterization when working on a project, but it can be an incredibly daunting task. There were many points in this chapter that I found interesting and helpful, specifically about contrasting traits and the ability to change. In order to make characters truly feel like fully fleshed human beings, there need to be some slight contradictions in their nature. An example that I found helpful was on page 33. This example discussed Kathy Hepinstall’s story, “Queen Devil“, and how the character Nick has multiple instances of contrasting traits that are consistent nonetheless. A quiet and thoughtful person, like Nick, can have moments spurred on by alcohol in which he becomes a particularly volatile and angry man. Before reading this chapter, I had always thought that good characterization equaled consistency and change, so when I started reading about contrasting traits, I was a little confused. Now I realize that characters aren’t defined by one trait that makes them act a certain way. For instance, a shy character can be quiet and insecure in front of family members or large groups, but maybe moments of pressure and adrenaline cause that same character to take charge and lead others. The main thing to remember about contrasting traits is that they, like other aspects of personality, need to stay consistent unless swayed by change. I feel like most writers are often taught that in order to create a good story, our characters must undergo some sort of change, but the problem is that most writers automatically think of change as some ground-shaking and instantaneous event. The section about change really put into perspective that sometimes the best change for a character is one that isn’t fully developed or even wholly clear. There’s an example of this on pages 34-35, in which the author discusses Lolita and the character of Humbert Humbert, who has a desire for “Nymphets”. This desire is a driving force of Humbert Humbert’s character, but as he falls deeper in love for Lolita and finds that he still loves her when she turns seventeen, the audience can see that while he still has desires for nymphets, he has begun to change in how he views attraction and romance. This change is slight, but as the story is centered mainly on Humbert Humbert and his problematic desires, it serves as an impactful moment in the story.

Prompt: Write an entry focusing on an aspect of storytelling craft or content from Raymond Carver’s “Cathedral” pg. 271 (200-400 words)

Response: Raymond Carver’s short story, “Cathedral”, is the epitome of the “short story” as well as a metaphor regarding the plight of artists and writers. The beginning of “Cathedral” draws the audience in by creating a bond between the three characters in the opening line, “The blind man, an old friend of my wife’s, he was on his way to spend the night” (pg. 271). This also denotes a sense of distance between the narrator and the blind man, as the narrator explicitly states that the blind man is a friend of his wife’s, deliberately noting that he and the blind man are not friends themselves. This feeling of detachment continues as the narrator continues to give the audience background information about the relationship between his wife and the blind man, going so far as to not name her previous spouse because, “Why should he have a name?” (pg.272). In this stage, the narrator acts as a shell of a writer or artist. He cannot create due to the lack of attachment he has in all facets of his life. This shallow, detached behavior is seen prominently after Robert arrives and the narrator’s wife looks at the narrator, “My wife finally took her eyes off the blind man and looked at me. I had the feeling she didn’t like what she saw. I shrugged” (p. 275). The lack of sadness or anger from the narrator suggests that he doesn’t particularly care about how his wife views him. This detachment and indifference to his life and relationships causes the narrator to be unable to create or imagine anything other than what he physically sees on television. It is only until he begins to bond with the blind man that he is able to imagine and create, mainly seen in the climactic ‘Cathedral’ scene on pages 282-284. It is in this scene that we see what Robert’s role is in this short story. Carver alludes to Robert’s importance early on, when the narrator describes his wife’s poetry, “In the poem, she talked about what she had felt at the time, about what went through her mind when the blind man toucher her nose and lips. I can remember I didn’t think much of the poem” (p. 271-272). The blind man seems to represent the ‘touch of inspiration’. When he touched the wife’s face, she was inspired to write a poem about the experience, similar to what happened to the narrator later on in the story. Robert’s hand guiding the narrator’s own marks a significant change in the narrator’s character. He has become attached, inspired to create a work of art. So much so on page 284, the narrator states, “I’m no artist. But I kept drawing just the same”. This line in particular struck me, as I feel it does to most writers/artists. In the moment of creation, most people tend to not focus inherently on quality, but on the action of bringing something to life.

Questions: 1. Why did Carver keep the narrator’s wife in the scene when she was sleeping? What was the significance of having the wife witness the drawing that the narrator and Robert created? 2. On page 282, Robert asks the narrator if he is religious, to which the narrator responds that he isn’t and that cathedrals don’t mean anything special to him. Why was it important to have the narrator and Robert bond over and become inspired by something that initially holds little significance to them?