Archive for the ‘Reflections’ Category

When Suspension of Disbelief Is Not Enough

Posted: March 9, 2013 in Reflections, Writing
Tags: , , , ,
0

Suspension of disbelief is when we disregard the unreality of a story and dive into the story anyway. For example, we ignore the fact that you can’t bring a corpse back to life with lightning and funky-looking machines, or we let it by that animals don’t wear clothes when we’re forced to watch The Great Mouse Detective with our younger family members, or I ignore that there are so many people in the cult in The Following that there’s no way that sort of cult could exist in reality, no matter how charismatic a serial killer Joe Carroll may be.

So many sick people follow him, even he has trouble believing it sometimes.

We need suspension of disbelief to enjoy some of the more strange of fiction, and sometimes to even get through the craziness of life. We’re pretty good about this as kids, when most of the shows we watch are cartoons with all sorts of improbable things going on.

But why do I mention all this? Most of the people who read this blog are well aware of suspension of disbelief and what it is, especially the writers who read this blog. Well, sometimes our suspension of disbelief cannot help us with a story, especially when we become adults and sometimes prefer our entertainment a little closer to reality.

But even for those of us who are still able to do suspension of belief like when we were kids, we occasionally find a story that we can’t get past the craziness in. For example, one of the problems I had with Mockingjay, the final book in the Hunger Games trilogy, was that after Katniss (spoiler alert!) killed President Coin for the murder of Prim, she wasn’t prosecuted or killed or thrown in the loony bin or held up as a hero by those who opposed both Coin and Snow. No, she was held in a room for several days and then dumped in District 12 for the rest of her life, with the only punishment being that she have counseling sessions on the phone for the rest of her life. If this were Egypt, China, Venezuala, Ukraine, or the United States (especially the United States!), any of the stuff I listed except what actually happened to Katniss would’ve happened. What makes Panem so different that the murder of the national leader gets you dumped in a coal-mining town that’s literally rebuilding itself from the ashes? Explain it to me, please!

“My country? Well, we’re hungry…and once a year 23 people die on national tV…and…that’s it.”

Another problem I had with the whole trilogy is that Panem had no character besides that of the Games and a capitol that oppressed the districts. Seriously, was that all there was to Panem? We only got brief looks into any sort of a national culture, with some district culture mixed in. And yet most culture is centered around the Games and the Victory Tour during the off-season. Is there anything else to Panem? There is so many questions left unanswered. Plus, what about the economy? It seemed the economy all depended on the Games and the oppressed districts. And did anyone in the Capital actually work, or did they all just party and do things related to the Games? I only know Panem as a nation of oppression and murder, and for Collins’ purposes, that’s all she really needs. But I have trouble believing that Panem could actually exist, especially when most of the nation is defined by oppression and a sick obsession with reality TV and the television in general.

I also have problems with other stories. I have a lot of trouble believing that Superman’s biggest problem in life is his love triangle with Lois Lane and himself (thank God it looks like Man of Steel might deal with that), or that a biologist might shy away from some skeletons of dead Ubermen but be attracted to a strange-looking cobra-worm in Prometheus. I’ve grown disillusioned with some Bond films because the villain’s super evil plan involves flooding the Earth or using diamonds as a laser beam or living in a space-station that nobody noticed until Bond pointed it out (you know I’m right). Why does Anakin go to the Dark Side just because he’s in love? Shouldn’t there be more darkness in him besides a fear of loss? And why in some fantasy films they can only get rid of a monster by sealing it away but hundreds of years later the very same magic used to seal the monster is suddenly able to kill it without any major innovation being mentioned?

I know I seem to be tearing into some very beloved stories, but I have to say, some of this boggles my already messed-up mind. Is there something I’m missing here? Or maybe the story is missing something and I and some others are angry enough or nitpicky enough or something else enough to point it all out.

I bit that guy because he didn’t like the skeletons but for some reason wanted to pet me.

It’s probably why when I write a story and there’s a chance it may get crazy or overly complicated, I try and have something to make it easy to understand and believable. I dumped a whole idea for Reborn City‘s sequel just because I thought it might be disbelieved by more than a few readers. I went through a lot of parts of Snake before I wrote and even while I was writing it just to make sure there was nothing that could be too hard to believe. And with the bajillion stories in my head, I often tinker with them in my inmagination for years just to see if there’s something that could be pointed out as too weird to happen (believe me, even in speculative fiction that’s a lot).

What do you have trouble believing, even in beloved stories that everyone else is cool with? And do those things make you examine your work differently?

I Was Disturbed This Evening

Posted: March 5, 2013 in Novel, Progress Report, Reflections, Scary Stuff, Writing
Tags: , , , , ,
2

I was editing a chapter of Snake this evening, when the Snake is torturing his third victim for information (on what, you ask? Read the book when it comes out). At some point during this chapter, the Snake becomes incensed by something his victim says to him and retaliates in a most gruesome manner. The thing is, I didn’t remember that I’d written that part the way I’d written it, which was fast, unforeseen, and totally horrifying in its inhumanity. It disturbed me a little, and I wrote the bloody scene over the summer! (By the way, no pun intended when I say “bloody”)

This is pretty ironic, seeing as I pride myself on being immune to most scenes of horror and death in fiction. But it also points out something: if I can be disturbed by a scene I created in a story I wrote, even just a little, and I knew that scene was coming, then what would the reaction be of someone who didn’t see it coming, and isn’t as desensitized to these sort of things as I am? I get a little excited just thinking about it.

It makes me wonder if I’ll be disturbed by any other scenes I’ve written in this thriller novel of mine. There are quite a few more murder and torture scenes to go through, so the likelihood is high that I might see something and feel a little twinge of horror, disgust, or queasiness. But if I do, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. After all, I write horror stories primarily, so if even I feel a little reaction from going over and editing a scene, I think that means I’m doing something right.

It can also point to how disturbed I am as a writer and possibly as a person, the way I have a character killed or how I describe the monsters in the story or how I build up to a terrifying conclusion in a certain scene. Critics will definitely wonder if I’m depraved (always possible), if I was traumatized as a child (yes I was, I wrote a post on it last year) or if I’m trying to corrupt my readers with this vile stuff I write (objection! I seek only to share and entertain while making a little money where I can).  But hey, if Stephen King and Anne Rice and Edgar Allen Poe can write some of the same stuff and survive the scathing criticism, why can’t I?

Besides, there are certain things those same writers above wrote that I do not plan to write (if you haven’t read Stephen King’s IT, please go to the Wikipedia page and read the last sentence of the second-to-last paragraph of the section titled 1957-1958 under Plot. You’ll understand what I mean). Even I have lines I won’t cross, though sometimes they don’t seem obvious to others.

Well, I’ll continue editing Snake and seeing what I find. Hopefully I’ll be able to find some more scenes, be disturbed when it’s necessary, and touch up some scenes to be more disturbing if I think it’s needed. Hopefully I’ll be able to create a novel that will catch on and cause a wave and be praised for its disturbing/thrilling/insert-advective-here aspects. That’s the dream, at least.

In the meantime though, I have to get ready for bed. I’ve got Abnomal Pyschology class in the morning, definitely one of my favorites, and I want to be awake when we discuss treating bipolar disorder. Good night, everybody.

When Can A Character Act Out Of Character?

Posted: March 4, 2013 in Reflections, Writing
Tags: ,
2

Last night I was reading a manga, and something happened in it that I wanted to discuss with you (I doubt anyone will mind if I give a few spoilers to this manga, I’m the only guy I know who reads all the same stuff as myself):

In this manga, a character who’d been characterized so far as a sweet, polite young lady from an upper class background suddenly showed up at a battle on the highway riding a motorcycle and wearing a skintight, black leather riding outfit, recorded some damning evidence on her phone, and then started acting like she knew more about some of the futuristic weapons than the more veteran fighters did, and had the proof to back up the claim when she joined the battle. I was like, “Okay, she’s barely been a part of this war for a day; how the heck does she know more about the weapons than the veterans who’ve been fighting since the beginning of the manga? More importantly, why is she dressed like the T-Mobile spokesperson and acting like Tomb Raider meets Japanese schoolgirl when so far she’s been nothing like that?”

So I read on, and it’s revealed that this particular character has a very unexpected and very scary connection to the main villain of the series, a mad doctor character who set the two sides in the war against each other without really taking part in the war himself (now that’s evil and amazing at the same time). Not only that, but because she had to hide that connection between the villain and herself, the super-sweet personality she’d been showing so far had all been an act meant to fool everyone. And it worked!

It made me think, “This character had been acting against her character type at the beginning of this scene, but as soon as this revelation makes it seem totally within character.” In fact, it made me do a lot of thinking about characters in fiction acting unlike themselves. Sure, I’ve seen characters start as good but later go down the path of darkness, but there’s been vestiges of the good in them in how they act while being evil or how they rationalize their evil deeds. Anakin Skywalker said he brought peace to the galaxy in Episode III though he did it by murder, the Assassin from the movie Serenity was using evil means to create a perfect world, and other such examples show how good shines through the evil.

I’ve only seen a few of these unexpected-character-changes in my life though, and each time I’ve seen them, it’s always been alongside a major revelation, such as the character was working for the antagonist the whole time, or perhaps she’s from the future and is having some difficulties distinguishing reality from her psychosis, or something along those lines. And usually after the reader learns this shocking revelation, the main character of the story does too, which can lead to them becoming enemies, friends, or a whole bunch of other combinations, and it usually stays that way until the end of the story, when the conflict is finally resolved. In the case of the manga I was reading, I’d say it’s a fair chance there’s going to be an ongoing tension between this character and the main character for a while, especially since the character with the connection to the villain is supposed to be a good guy and is the object of the main character’s affections (that’s a sad betrayal waiting to happen).

Have you ever seen this sort of character revelation? If so, where have you seen it and how did you react?

Don’t e shy, I’d love to hear from you. In the meantime, I’m going to try and find out when the next volume of that manga comes out. I mean seriously, I have to know how the main character reacts to finding out his crush is related to the main villain! It’s going to bug me for a while.

Putting Characters Through S%^t

Posted: February 24, 2013 in Reflections, short story, Writing
Tags: ,
2

I can’t remember where I heard it (might’ve been from my Creative Writing teacher, who’s a published literary novelist with tenure), but someone once told me that all fiction starts with a single character getting into a whole heap of trouble and then reacting to that trouble or trying to find some way to extricate themselves from it. In many cases, that’s all you need for a compelling plot. And so it is the case for my latest short story, Fugue, which is about a girl waking up from a fugue state to realize she’s not in Kansas anymore and she’s in big trouble.

Well actually she’s from a small town in rural Virginia somewhere between Richmond and Charlottesville, but you get what I’m going for here.

The point is, I’m trying to put my main character through so much grief and fear without being sadistic about it and without causing suspension of belief. The start of her trouble is the fact that she woke from the fugue state instead of the fugue itself. When one wakes from a fugue state, they’re confused, they’re scared, and they have no idea that they’ve just spent a great deal of time (in this case, several months) living as someone else, and have no memory of the incident. With that in mind, I’m delaying resolving the character’s problems and allowing her to figure out what happened to her while I try to make an interesting story based on the things that are happening to her immediately following her awakening.

Or to be simpler, I’m trying to see how much s%^t I can put the poor girl through before I have to resolve the plot and get to where this whole thing will eventually conclude. Which is a tough balance, seeing as I’m trying not to make things too easy for this character. On the other hand, I want to make sure readers don’t get annoyed by it all and want to stop reading because there’s no resolution.

So what’s the best way to go about doing this balancing act? You tell me. In any case, this is the first draft, so there will be room for mistakes. However I must try to get this done by the end of the week, because I’ll be starting edits on Snake when March begins, and I don’t want to delay too much.

Which means I should probably stop blogging and get back to getting this girl to her next point of conflict. Wish me luck.

Setting Is Character Too

Posted: February 13, 2013 in Reflections, Writing
Tags: ,
4

I’ve been watching the first season of American Horror Story on my computer lately, half because I’ve heard so much about it and I’m intrigued, but also because I figure that it’s about time I watch some successful TV horror that I’m missing out on. Watching it, I realize something important: the house, which is the main setting of the show, is a character in itself. The setting is its own character.

I’m only three episodes in, but I’m learning that hthe house has so many layers and so much depth. In every episode we see some new aspect of it, some new piece of its history. We learn that t has its quirks, its needs and wants, and its effects on those who encounter it. And I think ultimately, it is the antagonist of the story rather than the home of the antagonist. The house has some designs for the family living there, and while I’m not sure what those designs are, I’m sure they’re sinister in nature.

(And if I’m right, don’t tell me; I want to be surprised).

This puts me in mind of other stories where buildings and settings that have been characters as well. Obviously, there’s The Shining by Stephen King: the Overlook Hotel was definitely sentient and not just inhabited by spirits. It lived, and it allowed souls to become twisted and live within it. Also, there’s the house in When A Stranger Calls, because it figures into the plot just as much as the two characters. We see the house, so airy and space-filled, and yet we feel trapped within it, wondering what was behind every corner. When we reach the climax of the story, we fear not only the killer, but we fear the house and what is hiding in its darkest corners.

This makes me wonder how I may apply this to my work. I know there’s a few stories where I could make the setting a character,, even though I have yet to write any of those stories. But how to make those settings come to life, to be characters? I don’t know. At least not yet. I hope to find out though, and perhaps I will, especially if I keep watching AHS. If I can…then it’ll just be conquering another skill I’ll need on the road to be an author.

It’s like Hotel California, but worse.

Do you ever use setting as a character? How do you do it?

I’m Writing What I Know For Once

Posted: February 11, 2013 in Living and Life, Reflections, Writing
Tags: , , , , ,
0

Last semester, I wrote how I continue to write about subjects I have no personal experience with, despite my creative writing class’s textbook’s insistence that I do so. It wasn’t that I thought anything from my own life wasn’t good enough for writing about, it’s just that I was more interested in writing about a demon causing a human to become a cannibal or a war between humans and werewolves than I was writing about my anxiety before a test or my sometimes stormy relationships with my sisters. When people like my dad would tell me to at least give it a shot, I would usually reply, “That’s too scary for literature.”

But lately–and I blame the workshops I’ve been taking for this–my writing has taken a more personal tone. Over break, I wrote “Enigma” (later renamed to “In The Lady Ogre’s Den”), which has an autistic child as the main character. I’ve worked with kids with autism before, and I’m even on the spectrum, though I’m very high-functioning. Later I wrote “Old Sid” for class (I’ll be turning that one in a week from Wednesday) and that story takes place on the Ohio State campus, where’ I’ve either been working, learning, or both for the past two years. And recently I’ve been working on a short story called “Three Life Saving Phone Calls”, which is based on some dark experiences in my life that for a time made me very depressed and even contemplated suicide. Sure, I’ve changed so much around that it’s now only very loosely based on my life, but if someone were to look closely, and if that someone knew a lot about me, they could see through the fictional veneer and spot what I’ve taken from my own life and put into the story.

Why the change? Like I said before, I think it might have something to do with the workshops I’ve been taking. The emphasis on literary fiction as opposed to genre fiction requires me to be more personal than I have been, and a lot of what those workshops have been teaching me I’ve assimilated into my writing. I guess finding ways to make my own life and experiences interesting is part of what I’ve taken away from these classes. I’m not exactly sure if it’s the best thing for my writing–after all, I’m still devoted to genre fiction, and I prefer to use imagination rather than confront an actual serial killer–but while I’m stuck with this new appreciation for things in my life and using them in my writing, I might as well take advantage of it to the fullest.

And besides, who knows? “Three Life Saving Phone Calls” seems to be just literary enough that I could submit it to a major literary journal, one that pays its contributors. That’s the hope, at least.

What about you? Do you use your own life in your writing, or is your work so strange that your life couldn’t find a place in your work?

I Can’t Believe The Entertainment Industry Is Taking Most Of The Flack

Posted: February 10, 2013 in Politics and Leadership, Reflections
Tags: , , , ,
2

Today on the bus downtown I was reading my latest Entertainment Weekly, and there was an article talking about how the entertainment industry is under increasing scrutiny for gun violence in the United States and different perspectives on the debate. Not long after that, my friend and fellow blogger Matt Williams posts an article about how two Swiss human rights organizations have recommended taking certain aspects out of video game violence because in the real world those same aspects might constitute war crimes if performed (for said post, please click this link: http://storiesbywilliams.com/2013/02/10/war-crimes-in-video-games/#comment-8258).

Has the world lost its mind?

First off, the movies, TV shows, books and video games are all fictional. FICTIONAL! Not real, never happened, the product of someone’s imagination and transferred to us using words, visuals, and (increasingly) technological gizmos. If you can mistake something in a movie or a video game for real, I think that points to some underlying psychological disorder.

And that’s the problem here, isn’t it? People with psychological problems getting their hands on guns, and often they get them through legal means more often than they get them illegally. In fact I read the other day an article about a man who was released from a mental institution after being incarcerated for murdering his mother. Not long after he got out, he bought up a ton of assault weapons and wrote in an online diary that he thought about killing all the time. It wasn’t until a police officer noticed the man had bought the guns, realized who the man was, and that he shouldn’t have guns in the first place did the man get arrested again. Seriously folks, we need more help for the mentally ill and better protection from dangerous weapons.

By the way, nowhere in this article did video game violence come up.

In fact, not a lot of killers are actually influenced by the entertainment industry to become killers, if any at all. Eric Harris was a sociopath who influenced Dylan Klebold, a manic depressive, into becoming a killer. Adam Lanza seemed to have Asperger’s syndrome and a few other problems, plus access to a bunch of guns in his mother’s house. The guy who shot the Sikh temple in Wisconsin was a neo-Nazi who believed he was doing the world a favor. The guy who shot up the first responders in New York was inspired to kill by Adam Lanza! The guy who kidnapped the child off the bus in Alabama seemed to have a thing for conservative pundits on the radio (not very entertaining, right?) and possibly suffered from a persecution complex. And James Holmes? Well, I’m not so sure The Dark Knight is wholly responsible (I have my own theories on what drove him to murder, but I’m not a psychologist, so unless asked to tell I’ll just hold off).

In fact, our psychological state of mind is based on biological, sociocultural, and environmental factors. So if James Holmes’s biology, culture, environment, and his social circle was defined by The Dark Knight, then maybe we might have to examine the entertainment industry. Besides, there are no studies that indicate a link between video games and gun violence. Not even a correlation, which is only a possible indicator of causation. Emphasis on possible. And the people who say that there is a link that just hasn’t been found yet, such as Wayne LaPierre, are usually in favor of gun rights or are actually paid to advocate for gun companies. Should we really believe these guys when they say the guns they own and try to sell say that guns can’t be apart of the problem our society is facing?

Besides, I still believe that humans are rational beings with the power of choice. Most people know that killing is wrong, that firing a bullet at someone means they probably won’t get up again if they’re hit, and that the soldiers in video games or the serial killer I created or Bruce Willis’s character in the Die Hard films are not real and therefore so is the gun violence, which means the cool gun violence in those examples are as real as the tooth fairy. And most people choose not to kill others. Those who do, and do it with assault weapons are, like I’ve said before, are mentally ill and need pscyhological counseling.

So stop blaming the entertainment industry. Yes, there’s more violence in media these days, but that’s a response to both the world and what the world wants in its media, but if we start censoring our TV shows and video games and movies, I think we’re doing more to set up a totalitarian state than we are by confiscating dangerous weapons. And where does the censorship end? When media is dull and boring? It’s a horrible direction to go down.

So let’s not censor. Instead, let’s actually work to create a safety net for those with mental illnesses that make them dangers to themselves or to others, keep military-grade weapons out of the hands of citizens (even well-intentioned ones), and institute universal background checks. That’s a responsible response to the wave of violence the United States is facing right now.

Every Writer Does This

Posted: February 8, 2013 in ideas, Living and Life, Reflections, Writing
Tags: , ,
6

It’s not uncommon for people reading fiction or watching a movie to identify with a character and say to themselves, “I want to be like that character”, or “I so wish that could be me.” We’ve all done it at least once. For years, I waited for a letter to go to Hogwarts, and was a little disappointed that I never got one, even if I knew it wasn’t possible to get one. Teenage girls today look at the Twilight books and films and wish they were so lucky that two hunky, supernatural guys would fight over them, even if one of them has some personality problems and wants to bite you. And I think plenty of us have wanted to blow up the Death Star or use the Force (I know I want to be a Sith Lord).

But it may surprise some people that writers of fiction do this too. In fact, it’s not uncommon for writers to insert themselves in their stoires, sometimes in very heroic or very different roles that are unlike who they really are. Now, you may be thinking, why should a writer do that? Shouldn’t they be creating figures we ourselves want to emulate, not figures they want to emulate or wish to be? But if you think about it in a certain way, it makes sense:

Nobosdy ends up a writer by accident or by purpose. We end up as writers through the various events in our lives. Yes, some of us show talent early on, but we don’t end up becoming writers just because we display talent. I ended up a writer because I liked to create stories, and writing allowed me to take those stories and share them with others in a very efficient way. Not only that, but I had plenty of people over time who encouraged my writing and helped shape me into the person I am today.

Imagine what would happen if I had never learned to love writing though. What sort of person would I be? Well, maybe I’d be a psychology major instead of double-majoring in History and English. I’d be learning about psychopathy and trying to become an analyst for the BAU. Of course, I wouldn’t look forward to the Stats classes. Those are tough!

Or imagine if I’d never come to Columbus and made a fresh start, but instead stayed at the same school in my old town where I was bullied. I might get fed up with it and one day just snap. This would lead me to become a delinquent with anger issues, and eventually I might go to jail for all of my fighting and other bad behavior. Or maybe an intervention might occur, I’d repent my ways, and become a lawyer dedicated to reforming schools.

Or imagine I was a girl. Would I still write? Might I instead be interested in a different lifestyle? Perhaps I’d be a friendly rival of Lady Gaga in terms of fashion and singing! Or perhaps I’d have done some stupid stuff in high school and I’d be a single mother working her way through college. How would I find time to write with all that going on?

You see what I’m doing here? I’m imagining myself in different roles and under different conditions. And as each person is the star of their own story, I’m basically imagining myself in a story where I’m the star and I’m very different from who I am. It’s not too hard after this to apply myself in a different character role for a completely different story.

And the examples above are only the start. It could get wilder, especially since I write fiction with horror/sci-fi/fantasy elements. Imagine what I would be like if I grew up in a world where psychics were a real phenomena, and about 10% of babies were born with it. Imagine that I was born with psychic abilities. What would my life be like? Or what if one of my siblings was a psychic and I wasn’t? Would jealousy make me do strange things?

Or what if we lived in a world where South Africa was the dominant superpower on Earth? How different would our culture be? Would I still be living in the US, or would I live in Johannesburg?

What if humans weren’t the ruling species of Earth, but some other creature was? Would the relationship between humans and this ruling species be symbiotic or would we be hunted by them? How would I feel about the relationship?

Or imagine if the Kingdom of Israel had never fallen, but had lasted for centuries, expanded beyond its original borders, and Islam and Christianity were minority religions like Judaism is today. Would I live in Israel? What would I be doing there right about now? What other countries, faiths, and cultures would exist? What sort of technology would be available, and would the religious establishment allow or ban certain types of technologies?

Or imagine that humans never aged beyond fifteen, died at sixty-three, lay eggs instead of gave life birth, and turkeys were considered divine symbols? What would the world look like, and what sort of strange comedic science-fiction story would I be living?

You see how this is for writers? We put all these possibilities into motion when we sit down to write and we insert ourselves into the story in some capacity. It’s weird, but it’s what we do, and as you can see from above, it’s a lot of fun to do. I actually do it a lot. And if anyone tells us that we could never be military captains or wizards or the pop divas with supernatural abilities, we just say, “It’s fiction. Besides, who says if things weren’t a little different, I might actually be these things?”

What’s your favorite role to imagine yourself in when you insert yourself in a story? Do you think you could be any of those things if life were a little bit different?

Am I Becoming More Literary?

Posted: February 3, 2013 in Reflections, Writing
Tags: , ,
2

I’ve taken two writing workshops so far at school, with the goal of becoming a better writer. Have I become a better writer? I like to think so; none of the stuff I’ve produced since my first meeting in the workshop last semester has gotten a “yay” or “nay” as far as being published, but I think that same stuff is a little bit better.

However I may also be a little more literary in my writing voice. This is because the workshops I take emphasize literary fiction, mostly because of the character development aspect of it, but also because some critics believe that genre fiction is predictable (I’ll admit that’s sometimes true, but quality genre fiction can do the same old shtick several times and each time make it seem original and utterly compelling, so there’s no reason to put it down). Because of this emphasis on literary fiction, I’ve had to write my stories with more of a literary verve than before, and I’ve definitely had to critique and merit the stories based on how good they are, both as literary fiction and as fiction in general.

Because of all that, my style might sound a little more literary than before. I mean, today at the library, taking a break from homework and school pressure, I started writing a story about a character contemplating suicide. Before, that would’ve had a more thriller bent. But now, I’m wondering how to draw out his character, how to make it seem natural and realistic, how to get people invested in the character. And I find myself drawing on everything I’ve written and read for these workshop classes I’ve been taking, and I find myself thinking, “I’m becoming something I swore I wouldn’t become.”

What I swroe I wouldn’t become was an author of literary fiction, which I feel for the most part is boring and slow and too realistic for my dark tastes. And even though I’ve resisted, some of the elements of literary writing have rubbed off on me. Am I sad or angry? I’m not sure. Maybe a little worried. I mean, I like genre fiction. If I write in a more literary style, will people stop liking my work as genre fiction? Or is the fact that I’m a bit better at writing realistic stories with character development only going to aid me in the future?

I have no clue. And truthfully, I won’t get a clue for a while, at least not until I’ve published a little more work and seen how people react to it.

What’s your opinion? Do you think having some literary aspects to your creative process and to your writing is a good thing, or a bad thing?

My Style Is My Own Style

Posted: February 2, 2013 in Reflections, Writing
Tags:
0

I was talking to someone who lives on my floor today, and we started talking about our mutual interests in Stephen King and James Patterson. At some point during this conversation, he asked me if my style was very much like Stephen King’s. To which I replied, “My style is more like my style.”

I returned to this conversation just a moment ago, thinking about what goes into style. There’s word choice, tone, pacing, character archetypes, setting, conflicts, themes…all these and more go into style. But trying to categorize something like style in words never seems to do it justice. When we enjoy an author, we get a feel for their style, and that’s how we define style, by that feel we get. It makes us say, “This is definitely one of his/her books.”

And speaking of feel, I had a feeling that my friend was talking about my influences, so I told him I was very much influenced by King, Anne Rice, and Patterson, with a few others adding here and there. But it’s mostly those three, and they all have a very interesting style of their own: King has a rawness even after all these years. His plots are strange and convoluted, often veering to the science-fiction areas of fiction, especially in his recent work, and he’s not afraid to go to places most of us wouldn’t, be it a crass joke or a sex scene involving fifth graders.

Anne Rice is an aristocrat among writers. Her work is dark but deep, philosophical and full of supernatural mystery. There’s a sensual feel in her words, as if every gesture of her characters has a hidden flirtation in it, and the worlds she paints are rich and vivid, almost like a painting. But as her characters sometimes remark, no matter how pretty the painting, it’s always just a painting, and we are aware of the trappings we adore, and the things we possess, and we realize that they are all meaningless, that this entire world is meaningless if we detach from it, just like Rice’s characters are often detached from the world.

And James Patterson is fast-paced, full of emotive power and simple sentences that convey to us what is happening in the story. When we see into the minds of some of the characters, we can sense all their feelings, whether despairing, angry, or full of sick glee (especially true of the villains).

But my style? I’m probably not the best person to categorize it. It’s dark sure, and it does show that I’m not as experienced as others in my field. Occasionally you get a feel for the zany character that wrote my fiction (and don’t deny it, I’m plenty zany). But most of all, I think you can sense a yearning. Yes, yearning. I’m yearning, yearning to give the world fiction that people will like and that they’ll read and possibly review on Amazon and maybe talk about with others, whether to trash it or praise its merits. I’m yearning to give people that sort of work, and I think you can sense it when you read my creative work. Maybe that’ll go away as I gain more experience, but until then, it’s part of me and my writing.

In the meantime, I shall work on my stories, yearning or no yearning, and see if they can bring joy (or terror) to others. Wish me luck.

What’s your style like, if you have to define it? Who influenced you?

Older Entries
Newer Entries