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It’s generational, but those of us brought up with handwriting competitions at school and handwritten essays and the written examination are judgmental of a generation who apparently have terrible handwriting and can’t spell.
Do they need to? They can touch type – can you? Faced with a sheet of paper and a pen to write an essay they may struggle to be legible and make spelling mistakes – but how often do they do that, or will they need to that.
Isn’t it like complaining in the 8th century that scribes would be rubbish with a chisel putting their words in stone.
The goal is everything – clear communication. Doesn’t technology deliver this?
I was brought up on a fountain pen. Snobbery at my boarding prep school equated Biros, ITV, Radio 1, comics and guitars with a different class and one that they were not going to indulge. You develop your handwriting with an ink pen age 8-13 and there’s no going back. Writing with a Biro I find is like trying to scratch your name in ice with a ski-pole.
Hear I am, prefered time of working 3.00am to 5.00am, head down, collecting my thoughts, ploughing through reams of paper as if I was sitting a time examination.
I think it works, for me at least. The ‘Muse’ joins me after half an hour and the ideas flow. I then sleep on it. Further ideas and fixes bubble up and I add these before breakfast. If I don’t write it down, by the evening it is lost. If I add it to the many hundreds of pages of Google Docs and notes it is as likely to become buried in electronic fluff.
In the image above I’d been brought to a halt by an empty ink cartridge. These have become costly. £4.50 for a packet of five cartridges! I must go online and find a supplier.
Gone is the computer. Here is a fountain pen and paper. It is easier to spread out, easier to gather up ideas in bundles … better for brain? This has the makings of a dissertation.
Familiarity and mastery
Your head gets into a place it never wants to leave. You take command of a subject and want to build on it.
Or should do. I resist mastery in favour of novelty.
So I have to find ways to keep everything fresh. To seek out the challenge.
- Kings College Overdose
- Caffeine DSM-5
Chance had me discussing dreams today and I remembered that last night I had fallen in love. I had to explain it a bit further: I was on a studio set, as a writer or director or producer, or creative instigator of some kind. There were some 30 people, half performers half crew. During the course of the day or evening I fell in love with this girl. I’m 30 again. It was a delicious feeling. I could have drawn her face.
Chance had me trying out Amazon Music and my ‘Modern Folk’ choices had me listening to ‘Christine and the Queens’ who I immediately recognised.
Which is when I realised that I had seen her performing on Jools Hooland’s New Year’s Eve Hootennany and my mind had simply grabbed her from there and superimposed her as ‘the love interest’ in a sweet-dream romance.
Christine and the Queens
The Héloïse Letissier interview
Performing on the Graham Norton Show
Pip is lead through the marshes by his kind uncle the blacksmith. Some parenting is a mixed bag. Regardless of male or female intervention warmth and a less controlling manner is favoured.
The following are medical subjects I’ve written about over the last couple of weeks:
Fig.1. My goal. To write scenes as fluidly as changing gear.
Goal: What does my central character want from this scene?
Conflict. Who is the conflict with?
Disaster. What is the disaster for this scene?
Fig.2. Common scene writing errors. From Bickman.
I have characters, locations, events and situations in my head. For some characters the story runs for fifty years, most intense age 6 to 21. Armed with this editor’s tool I can ruthless delete, rewrite or come up with fresh scenes that meet the above criteria. It fits the pattern I want in my head of a story with momentum – that could be made into a linear drama for TV or film. I particularly recognise the need to ask repeatedly ‘what is the disaster?’ to conclude a scene. I related to this from a career in writing persuasive copy and videos where you repeatedly ask, then ask again ‘what is the problem?” The first answer is usually weak, though compelling … more likely the ninth or tenth idea will fit the brief.
Fig.3. Elements of Fiction Writing
I continue to read, note and try ideas from Jack M. Bickham’s book ‘Elements of Fiction Writing – Scene & Structure.’ I continue with the Open University course on FutureLearn ‘Start Writing Fiction’, as well as content on Open Learn of the same title.
Today FutureLearn pushed a contest on Twitter to write micro-stories of 140 characters. I gave it a shot, posting the following, mostly moments in different scenes of a story I’m writing.
Dad pulled over to pee. Mum told me to stay put. I didn’t. A truck smashed into the car and killed mum. Dad wasn’t bothered. I was. #Fic140.
A full potty is not something to fight over. Nanny G clung to one edge, her your charge Robbie the other. #Fic140
As a wealthy heir his nanny had instructions to keep him on a close rein. A boy first and an heir second Robbie had other ideas. #Fic140
Her smile was intoxicating. He’d kiss her but she smelt of alcohol. She said. “Giv ‘us a kizz, gadje” He said. “Giv ‘us a drink.” #Fic140
What’s not to love about her? he thought as she grabbed his ears and pushed his face into the bed of nettles. At least she’s a girl. #Fic140
Willing his art teacher mother to understand the child sitter cracked, then lashed out at every piece of work the class had done. #Fic140
To escape his locked attic room on the 5th floor Robbie used the fire escape rope. Never checked, it left him hanging 16ft short. #Fic140
Certain it’s Kizzy the boy grabs the girl’s arm. He is promptly set upon by her brothers who have dressed up in her best clothes. #Fic140
“I will.” “I do.””You diven’t?””We just have.” “Where’s the ring?” Robbie bursts open the crisp packet and finds the plastic ring. #Fic140
“Whatever it is the answer’s ‘No!” The man never looks up. In the doorway his son holds a little tighter the hand of a pretty girl. #Fic140
Unstuck from its rock pool the lumpsucker ogles the kids from the bucket. “Take me back” it said “and I’ll let you into a secret.” #Fic140
“They’re a family of illiterate, homeless, scroungers.” He said. “‘Family’ will do, his son replied. #Fic140
“Ah divn’t wanna help ye thieve from ’em!” She said. “You’ll dee as ah tell ye or I’ll shove your face in the fire.” He said. #Fic140
As the storm breaks the boy runs off to his favourite hideaway: an upturned boat above the beach. He find it half submerged. #Fic140
He tied the girl and boy together but loathing turned to love and pulling in the same direction they escaped. #Fic140
The burglar nicking stuff on seeing a portrait of him done by the owner’s wife hesitates. Delaying too long he is caught. #Fic140
“If I can’t have her, no one can.” Drukker wraps his arms around his daughter and jumps of the Point into the angry North Sea. #Fic140
The blow meant for his daughter kills his wife. Jailed his children go into care. Once out he goes after the girl. #Fic140
His parents divorce. He is sent to posh prison a boarding school in the middle of nowhere. He is hit by a car trying to hitch home. #Fic140
He drew a passable likeness of the girl. Rehashed the picture of the headmaster’s daughter naked should have led to his expulsion. #Fic140
Expecting to hear she’d be OK for ten years Kizzy was devastated to learn from her transplant team that they were giving her two. #Fic140
He loves her to bits but she’s falling to bits. She begs him to find another. He does. Her heart breaks first then fails. #Fic140
Cause-and-affection. He saw. He loved. His life felt whole again. #Fic140
Though her kiss and thrust were erotic, Robbie felt threatened by Angela not loved, intimidated not tamed. #Fic140
Both arms smashed the determined artist drew with his feet. Falling off the scaffold he broke his legs. He now spits paint. #Fic140
Lying bruised in piss and vomit in the bus shelter opposite his grandparent’s house after the disco Robbie concluded that Christine wasn’t ‘the one.’ #Fic140
Fig.1 Fig.1. Steven Pressfield’s ‘Foolscap Method’ to write a novel
Once more I am loving the Open University’s free online course ‘Start Writing Fiction’ on FutureLearn: it only started this week so there is plenty of time to join now. This free online course is all about character, so us novice fiction writers struggle with thoughts on plot. I love this from author Steven Pressfield: ‘The Foolscap Method’ is for me the ‘Creative Brief’ by another name, or even Churchill’s dictum of being given reports on a single sheet of paper. By setting parameters and being succinct you are forced to get to the kernel of an idea. When constructing a story then, say a novel, answer the following. I find I return to and refine this often and eventually have it on the wall to stop me wandering off … those ideas and stories can be kept for another project.
Fig.2 Close up on Steven Pressfield’s ‘Foolscap Method’ used to write his first novel
Steven Pressfield’s Foolscap Method : From his blog.
THE FOOLSCAP METHOD
Story telling device
Looks easy? Then add 70,000 coherent, clear, exciting words!!!
Fig.1 The Open University Start Writing Fiction eight week course FREE on Future Learn
It surprises me all the time how facts and fiction weave in and out of each other. I love the merry little dance I’m learning to give people. It matters that only I know what is fact and what is fiction as too easily a person or an event is described with barely a twist. Increasingly the closer I get to the ‘truth’ about a feeling, person or event the more convincing it is … even if I’m describing a talking fish, or a combination of dead and living people sharing a car journey that’s as real any I do every week.
The FutureLearn online course Start Writing Fiction started on Monday. I loved it so much last year I’m back for more to refresh what I picked up and find what I missed.