WRITING & REALITY: Evocative

Strange what sets off memories, what starts one crying.  Out of the blue, Emmylou (Western Wall – The Tucson Sessions):

1917 – Lyrics by David Olney

The strange young man who comes to me/ A soldier on a three-day spree/ Who needs one night’s cheap ecstacy/ And a woman’s arms to hide him/ He greets me with a courtly bow/And hides his pain by acting proud/ He drinks too much and he laughs too loud/ How can I deny him?

Let us dance beneath the moon/ I’ll sing to you "Claire de Lune"/ The morning always comes too soon/ But tonight the war is over/ He speaks to me in schoolboy French/ Of soldiers life inside a trench/ Of the look of death and the ghastly stench/ I do my best to please him 

He puts two roses in a vase/ Two roses sadly out of place/ Like the gallant smile on his haggard face/ Playfully I tease him/ Hold me ‘neath the Paris skies/ Let’s not talk of how or why/ Tomorrow’s soon enough to die/ But tonight the war over

We make love too hard, too fast/ He falls asleep, his face a mask/ He wakes with the shakes and he drinks from his flask/ I put my arms around him/ They die in the trenches and they die in the air/ In Belgium and France the dead are everywhere/ They die so fast there’s no time to prepare/ A decent grave to surround them

Old world glory, old world fame/ The old world’s gone, gone up in flames/ Nothing will ever be the same/ And nothing lasts forever/ Oh I’d pray for him but I’ve forgotten how/ And there’s nothing, nothing that can save him now/ There’s always another with the same funny bow/ And who am I to deny them.

The writing is heart-wrenching in its powerful story of a world at war as it brings it down to the most basic relationship between a man and a woman. Yes, it glorifies prostitution against a setting of war and sacrifice, and it romanticizes what I am sure was not as lovely and loving a tryst between two people in need.  But somewhere there was a moment, I think, that held this magic for someone.  At least I truly hope so.

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WRITING & REALITY?: Food as Metaphor

Did a workshop critique on my story "Gazpacho" last night, and some thoughts occurred to me, some things came out that even caught me unawares.

While two pages of the story had been written nearly a year ago, I sort of just picked up on it and continued it from there a couple weeks ago, finishing it within a few days to a rough second draft form.  Somehow, from a classroom setting and a first person pov, there was no mention of gazpacho, so I had no idea where the story had originally been going.  It was no problem, however, to get back into the mood of the setting and flow from there.  And amazingly, gazpacho naturally showed up.

I’m sure the story as written now is in no way similar to what it was going to be.  In the time since, I’ve read Faulkner and that enabled me to overcome one of my biggest problems in writing up to this point:  time changes and free thought that brings in some bit of emphasis on character via snippets of backstory, as well as projecting into the near future.  (Writers truly need to read, read, read!  It’s amazing how much is learned through absorption without realizing it.)

Everything seemed to come together through soups and time in this story, and while there needs to be work done on conflict in particular (mine’s always too soft, wrapped in cloaks of words), and the main conflict within the character was misread–rather, miswritten–as that of between the protagonist and her husband instead of within herself, the metaphors were all spot on, as well as some found that I hadn’t seen. 

But food is a biggie with me in writing; right up there next to nature and the sky and trees.  I’m not sure where this comes from, although studies have been done on symbolism and "sturdy oak" and "bending willows" are images that are fairly universal. 

Right now I’m into a strawberry-rhubarb pie with cream-cheese on the bottom.  Tart?  Always my favorite.  I’d made two of them because my rhubarb was ready and since my brother-in-law and his wife didn’t make it here for the Fourth, Jim (also a sour vs. sweet taste preferrer) and I are finishing them up ourselves.  Meant to bring one of them to the meeting last night but forgot.

I wonder what story will come of it.

STRAWBERRY – RHUBARB PIE
1 (8 oz.) pkg. cream cheese
2 tbsp. milk
2 tbsp. sugar
1/2 tsp. vanilla
Pastry for one 9" pie (baked as directed)
2 1/2 c. fresh strawberry halves
1 1/2 c. coarsely chopped rhubarb
3/4 c. water
1/2 c. sugar
2 tbsp. cornstarch
Combine softened cream cheese, sugar, milk and vanilla, mixing until blended. Spread on bottom of baked pie shell.

Mash 1/2 cup strawberries (set aside). Arrange remaining strawberries on top of cream cheese mixture.

In saucepan, combine reserved 1/2 cup mashed strawberries and rhubarb and water, bring to boil, simmer 2 minutes. Drain reserving 1 cup juice. Add water if not 1 cup.

Combine sugar and cornstarch in pan. Add juice. Bring to boil, stirring constantly. Boil 2 minutes until clear and thickened. Stir in rhubarb mixture. Cool slightly. Spoon over strawberries and chill.

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TECHNOLOGY: And Decisions

Talk about interactive new media methods…

In fixing my little display glitch on the laptop, one of the steps I reluctantly took was to uninstall Hoyle Puzzle Games which I direct much of my, ahem, "thinking" time into while playing slide tiles (the only game out of this program I really use).  Because it was not made for Win XP, nor for the resolution of this screen, I suspected it may have finally caused the problem. 

My computer was telling me something:  I played this game too often.  It took over the settings on my display.  Well, maybe not, but there is one good thing to come of it:  without this on the computer, I’m forced to either play mindless Solitaire or Freecell, or better yet, spend the time learning while playing the IF, the video stories, or new programs.

Though I will admit that I checked out amazon.com for the latest version of the program, I didn’t succumb. 

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NEW MEDIA: Afternoon, A Story – Imagery

Though I’m still not crazy about the means, reading this story reveals some beautiful prose:

When it is cold enough…perfectly, incredibly cold, the trees moan and roar all the night.  And in summer…ha! then it is all sex with them, seeds by the thousands, the air full of sex, spermy light, and the scent of pollen everywhere…They assert their ascendency, trees do, just look at that place out west–what’s its name?  Mount Something-or-other, where the volcano sheared the mountain top?–they grow in moon dust there, in the sterility of ash, don’t you see?

This reminds me of the value of new media, where story is read atop a backdrop of visual imagery, where the flight into poetry is a natural stream of consciousness as one thought gives birth to another a generation away.  A word triggers a memory and often, as in this story, a stressful situation is eased by gentler thoughts.

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INTERACTIVE FICTION: Book and Volume – Progress Report

Well, surprisingly enough with my horrible sense of direction, I’ve managed to get to four out of five servers and rebooted them successfully–my original task.  But I have not as yet stumbled upon the final server which is somewhere in the center of the city I would think, since I’ve walked the perimeter.  However, in taking the direction I took, I notice that the servers I came upon were in the sequence originally given to me in the instructions.  And, the server I’ve not come across yet is smack dab in the middle.  Methinks it is time to backtrack, losing precious time because I probably did not stop and look around fully.

Another thing, out of many of the people that I’ve run into, there is no conversation–although I overheard one taking place and likely should have checked that out further to find the people involved.  It sounded like a revelation of deeper plot beyond my specified task, and it may have been either crucial to the story, to my success, or to open up further possibilities of adventure.

There was also the time I did get curious enough to stop and press a button, but was left holding Ben Franklin’s stick.  I took it along with me.

I’m curious now about the title of this piece, Book and Volume, and wonder how it figures into the story.  Nothing I’ve come across so far has struck me as a relative clue, and I suspect I’m missing a lot on my first go-round this game.

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STORYTRON: Frustration

This part of the SWAT progam, getting used to the decisions and menus and buttons and what they represent, is likely the most difficult; especially with this, what one would assume to be the simplest part: Putting together two actors with a simple verb action.  But the possibilities in outcome are tremendous–thus assuring reader/user interest, and so the writer must adjust to keep in mind not only how to accumulate and offer a myriad of responses, but to put some effort in learning how to establish that while learning the program.

I am admittedly lost.

One of the frustrations for me is that in following the tutorial (either one of two), I don’t get the same pulldown menus, nor does the program change to resemble what is in the tutorial.  The instructions, while explicit, needfully jump around themselves to follow one line of learning or another, and then too, I would have appreciated working with the same premise throughout rather than a couple different examples to simplify and confirm the learning process.  The "or you could" method isn’t working well for one so scatterminded to begin with.

I really need that cabin in the woods with no tv or phone but with internet connection for about a week to hunker down and really learn this thing.  I’m beginning to suspect that I’m a slow learner, perhaps even a bit dense, despite all high academic gradings I’ve received since kindergarten.

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REALIIY?: Thoughtlessness

I’m sorry, but I find it incredibly thoughtless of a neighbor to have housepainters come in on a holiday and while they’re not running machinery, have the radio going all day.  I don’t get much time to just sit out back and think or read in peace.  And while I’m always able to do that inside while our TV is on, we live where we do for the enjoyment of the outdoors; to hear birds chirping instead of Dean Martin.  Even the people who live here wouldn’t think of making noise all day long on a holiday or Sunday unless it was necessary, or they’re having a picnic.

Meanwhile, she took off to quieter places.

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NEW MEDIA: Some Insight

Via Dennis Jerz, found this new weblog, Progression:  Following Myself by a new media enthusiast who has experience in the evolution of story games, and may well provide some good insight into the questions I have been concerned with in my own unaccredited research. 

Can interactivity measure up to the standards of literature enough to make it not only "fun," but meaningful, or do we necessarily lose that quality of the novel amid the technicalities of driving the program?  Will the average reader/user be allowed–and have the ability–to create a story that gives the same satisfaction of reading Faulkner?

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REALITY?: July Morning after the War

Lush with last night’s thunderstorms this Independence Day hangs heavy with dark clouds and windless sound broken by the joyful bugling of the catbird, chickadee and cardinal.  As if the booming of the guns has won their free flight crossings of the yard.

I think today of Saturday and six old soldiers standing graveside at attention and all those marching men who went before them.  There was a reason; there was a very precious reward some lucky ones of us born in this land will share.

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TECHNOLOGY: Video Problems

Uh-oh.  Turned my laptop on and the screen resolution reset itself to 600×800.  Well yes, of course I know how to reset it back, but the problem is, you can’t get there from here.

Because the controls to "apply" after the change is made cannot be reached–it’s off the screen!  You can’t move the properties box high enough to reach the bottom where the "apply" button is.  You also cannot make this one box smaller. 

Anybody have any suggestions?  Otherwise, I’m dead in the water because all my good programs are on that computer…

UPDATE:  Well thanks, folks.  No geeks out there, huh?  My hot-shot nephew did give me the magic spell to fix things up so this one’s getting written up in my computer-building/problem solving notebook because you just know it will happen again about two years from now.

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SELF ANALYSIS: Yeah, well…

You Are 56% Cynical
Yes, you are cynical, but more than anything, you’re a realist.
You see what’s screwed up in the world, but you also take time to remember what’s right.

How Cynical Are You?
http://www.blogthings.com/howcynicalareyouquiz/

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REALITY?: Time

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Yesterday was spent in gardening, sneaking in to iron, fix Jim’s computer, do some mending, and play some games.  Hoed and weeded, fed and watered, stopped to reflect on time.  How it is spent–today was good; productive, peaceful, unstressed.

I love Astilbe, they love the shade.  The white plants circle intermittently with the pink, but the white are so much older.  Brought from my father’s house, divided many times and repositioned in their places in the earth.  But they go back so much further, over decades, to my grandmother’s garden, his mother’s, as do I.

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LITERATURE: Love in the Time of Cholera – Drama

Marquez touches upon a sensitive topic here with Florentino Ariza, who has just discovered that Fermina Daza has decided upon wedding the persistent Dr. Juvenal Urbino.  Urbino may not have had the dedication to the affair from Fermina, but he is desirable by her family and so there is no need for the careful hiding of love (as was the case with Florentino), which also served as the force and intrigue to Fermina.  But she is won nevertheless.  Ariza is brokenhearted and accepts an arranged position far away to forget his passion.  Aboard the ship that takes him on his journey:

One night when he stopped his reading earlier than usual and was walking, distracted, towards the toilets, a door opened as he passed through the dining room, and a hand like the talon of a hawk seized him by the shirt sleeve and pulled him into a cabin.  In the darkness he could barely see the naked woman, her ageless body soaked in hot perspiration, her breathing heavy, who pushed him onto the bunk face up, unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his trousers, impaled herself on him as if she were riding horseback, and stripped him, without glory, of his virginity.  Both of them fell, in an agony of desire, into the void of a bottomless pit that smelled of a salt marsh full of prawns.  Then she lay for a moment on top of him, gasping for breath, and she ceased to exist in the darkness.  (p. 141)

Male rape.  Big question since there must be some compliance on his part–though physical and likely beyond the control of his mind.  But he made no attempt to stop her, and indeed, was taken by surprise. 

Why does Marquez put an end to Ariza’s agony of passion for Fermina in this way?  The natural culmination of his desire for Fermina would have been this physical act of love, and yet it is almost as if Fate has declared, "all right, already; this is what it’s about."  Florentino is just as quickly sent out of the room, but he attempts for the next several days to discover his attacker.  Intrigued by the incident, enlightened perhaps, and anxious.  Marquez has shown us the power of the mind through the enduring love of Florentino for Fermina over many years.  Is there a hint here of the basic instincts that are stronger than the mind to drive the natural act of mankind?

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NEW MEDIA, IF & STORYTRON: More on Story

One of the things that is helpful in mixing media forms and exploring them simultaneously is that it focuses on the means and method and necessarily questions the purpose.

What then, is the lure of the story in text only form?  I don’t think I’ve ever described a book as exciting, but rather interesting or well-written or as appealing toan emotion of feeling or causing deeper thinking in reaction.

Do I care about my character in Silent Hill 2?  Enough to not want him (me as player) to get killed–but even that is in relation to the goal.  If he gets killed–and it’s happened many times–I don’t feel bad, I feel frustrated and go back to the saved portion of the game while he was still alive and replay it to avoid his getting killed.  Because if he dies, the story is over.

Just random thoughts here, but just as I am learning about new media methods, I think I need to focus on what I take for granted about the old.  While adventure stories are certainly the focus of story in book form, we tend to relate to the characters in what they’re going through to make it a more meaningful experience in reading. 

I also need to really get into Barthes’ S/Z to consider his thoughts and the reasoning behind reader interactivity that has helped spawn new media.  Maybe sometimes we’d rather just sit back and read a master storyteller craft story.

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NEW MEDIA, INTERACTIVE FICTION & STORYTRON – Reality & Interactivity

I’ve mentioned this before, but after working a bit more in the IF piece, Book and Volume, it appears that we’re on the right track towards seeking drama through relationship rather than action alone if we are indeed seeking to enhance and expand new media to emulate the pull of narrative story.

In IF, while the interactive portion is based on dialogue between the player and the game by typing in text directives and receiving information–similar in some ways to instant messaging, the story itself is action.  We must walk (or run) and complete some tasks to achieve a goal, with impediments placed in our path that must be overcome.  Same thing with the majority of video gaming.  There is none to very little relating to the "people" we meet along the way above discovering if they are there to help or to hinder the player in his goals.  Storytron, may or may not be a different approach, in that the action is supposedly based on definitive action/reaction of the players.

I also can’t help thinking about the way that life imitates art in this new means of story.  Survivor, Amazing Race, Big Brother (although this certainly is based more on relationships), and the new Treasure Hunt, are part of the phenomenon of "reality" TV, which has people scampering about collecting clues and competing to reach a final winning spot and maybe a million dollars.  It is sort of contradictory to me to call them "reality" shows however, when in reality, most people just don’t do any of these things.  The "reality" part is merely in replacing actors with non-actors who are not prescripted nor directed in the action.  And drama is still based on action, near constant action.  Unless they’re eating a bug of some sort, there is no interest in showing much dinner conversation.

There’s still a long way to go on entertainment via story.  Movies and TV enhanced book format with audio/visuals, allowing the stories that held our attention to be brought to a different form and fill in the imagery by providing it.  I think here that it is actually this complete form of control, beyond the book form that allowed us to picture the characters and settings with just a bit of help from the author, has had more to do with the intense interest in readerly story and interactive need than books themselves. 

But the writing of these stories, the reading of them to include interactive use in new media methods such as Storytron, the tools and the end results, still have a long way to go.

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