WRITING: Setting & Mood

The words rumbled across the desk, drifted and hung above the man and woman sitting there.  The woman turned and looked at the man, reached for his hand.  His shoulders rounded, softened as she watched. She blinked and changed and focused on the man sitting facing them.

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WRITING: Lyrics

Riding home from Goshen, a Waylon CD playing in the car, some of the saddest words I’ve ever heard:

Is there any way that you can leave a little at a time….?

I need time to make adjustments of the heart and of the mind.

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REALITY?: Handling Overload Situations

You have to be so damned careful these days about what you write on your weblog, particularly when folks you know may read it or prospective employers.

Just to provide my solution to overload problems as outlined in the prior post, and to offset the chance of looking like a single-minded jerk, I do have my ways of ensuring that all obligations are fulfilled during my times of intense focus. I use both hands.

Some rare few are ambidextrous, but I’m about the furthest from that skill as one can get and still manage to hit my mouth with my fork.  However, over the years, I’ve trained my useless left hand to do many things it never thought it could do (well really, it did act as though it were not wired into my brain).  So while once it’s sole purpose in life was to hold things, with its most shining achievement being the ability and knowledge of the keyboard half that the right hand never bothered learning, it is now capable of opening a drawer, a jar, taking things out and putting them on the counter while the right is busy brushing my teeth.

All hail adaptability of the human body and spirit.

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REALITY?: Overload

Trying to do too much at once. I tend to be get involved with research in one area and devote all energy into that project, though I can multitask with the best of them when need be. 

Setting up a website and there are so many decisions to be made. Shall I once more attempt to combine the weblogs as I have them separated now? Shall I risk again the literary boring the light friendly readers or the realities of my life upsetting the literati? And what to do about hypertext which seems to bore both factions? Odd that those three areas are the prime interests in my life and twouldn’t it be neat to find a readership that shared them all?

But either with pages or with separate categories I’d like to try to combine the three (or more as I grow up and develop yet more interests, maybe skydiving or puddlejumping for example) into one central area where I can just be me.

So that’s where I have been the past two days.  Over at something called HyperSpinning that I won’t even link to yet since it’s on a (gasp!) theme template. Prior to that I’ve spent about a month on Hypertextopia with a new short story called A Bottle of Beer.  Coupla-two-tree days to write; a month to edit.  And on the Hypercompendia and Creative Writing weblogs which involved more effort on ongoing writings.

And shoot; now it’s almost garden time and bottling of the last year’s harvest wines.

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REVIEWS: Perfect Example – “Escape to Wisconsin”

It is the end of summer and the friends plan a camping trip up in Wisconsin.  John is in a good mood, got another haircut, and while we do not see his girlfriend Lita, I’m happy to see that perhaps his attitude is not completely dependent upon the relationship.

He does mention in the last panel of the first page that he remembers "seeing the lake through the trees" as they drive by.  I would take this as reinforcement of this change for him.  They drive through a storm and stop in a town to get something to eat.  Hassled by "rednecks" because one of them orders a vegieburger, they leave but one of them does take pictures of the townie hollering at them through the restaurant window. Strangely, while Porcellino chooses to give us a look at prejudice and stereotyping, it is from both sides: The townfolk make fun of John J. as being a "fuggin freak fairy" while John takes photos of the "rednecks" through the window as they leave. 

They avoid a fight and move on, stop and skateboard on the bridge at Two Rivers. Some nice sounds integrated into the panels here, the sounds of the boards (onomatopoeia) contrasting with the silence as John looks over the bridge at the river.

Almost out of gas, the pull into Appleton to fill up.  They pull out their skateboards but are warned by a girl who is a passenger in a car driven by an older man that the townfolk here hate skateboarders.  This part had this tune going through my head for days afterward.  The boys follow the man and girl to a campground where the two take off before the boys find a campsite.  Unable to do so, they camp right outside of it and John goes to sleep wondering if "that girl has sex…zzz…with the moustache guy…"  In the morning they sneak into the campground facilities to brush their teeth, then take a walk in the woods. 

In the finale of the story, the end of John’s adventurous, life changing summer, he notices "the air and the trees, and the sunlight breaking through the darkness."  This is a metaphor for his coming out of his depression and feeling of not belonging.  The world now appears real to him, and likely he feels a part of it.

For me, the story could have ended right  there, the point being made rather clearly.  Porcellino chooses to go on three more panels where the boys take off their shoes and wade in the stream in the woods, and John states "I was very happy."  This was a bit overkill and repetitious from the prior section, though it did negate some of the wariness I had at that point about the reason for his turnaround.

All in all, studied a bit more carefully than its surface story of teenage anxiety that’s been told a million times and experiences even more, Perfect Example could be said to be a precise and appropriate title.   

There is an excellent example here also of the use of graphics and text to go further into story than the idea of funny or power hero type comics that the medium is normally associated with to the unaware  (that’s me, too).  In particular, this is a memoir graphic novel that is considered nonfiction as it is based on the author’s recall of that summer between high school and college or so I assume, though he could be a junior since there was no mention of graduation and college applications would have been a bit late in May of their senior year. 

At any rate, it is a transitioning period for all of them as they leave one world and get ready to enter another, feeling the discomfort of having outgrown one and looking forward with some trepidation to the unknown.

While the drawings are a bit hokey, the simplicity serves its purpose to be be more abstract and thus easily accessible to the experience of a diversity of readers.  Certain elements of both story and comic strip effects have been used to accentuate the telling and showing of the narrative. 

Not my fav, but a good example of graphic story.

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BLOGGING: Getting there…

just a test post to see if lunar’s suggestion to remove a file has worked to establish proper site page.

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BLOGGING: A New Beginning

If you can read this, then I have successfully learned to set up a website with WordPress, Lunarpages, FTP, Firezilla, TextEdit, and a lotta luck.

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REVIEWS: Perfect Example – Celebrated Summer

This section doesn’t start off with a mood display, though it does again start out with John waking up and planning to go out.  There is no indication of conflict of any sort, and we assume he has gotten over his heartbreak over Kristi. 

He appears also to have established more of a relationship with Mark, and the two of them go off to Wisconsin to see Mark’s grandfather.  This is a nice change we see in the way John reacts to spending time with the elderly gentleman, and we can see that he is inspired to spend some time practicing his guitar (panel shows quiet contemplation, a slight smile on the ride home). Indeed, once home, he picks up his guitar and starts putting some time into it.

One of the gang comes by and they decide to go for a ride and he reveals his confusion to his friend about his relationship with Lita.  They go see a friend who is depressed over his own breakup with his girl, and during the usual "well…who needs em anyhow?", we see a change in John’s thinking, indicated by a closeup of him in the last panel on the page (placement counts–panels are likely added or scrapped, enlarged or made smaller to get to this point, just as ending a chapter or tv drama before the commercial) with small circle eyes. 

His relationship with his mother seems to have improved, despite his longer than ever hair, and he willingly agrees to mow the lawn.  Four panels go by with just the rrrr of the mower when we see a sudden flash of insight as indicated by eyes showing beneath the shades, an open mouth, and several lines to indicate something is happening.  He realizes that his reaction to life is his own choice.

His new attitude is in place as he and a buddy go to the lake, along with Lita and her friend Anne and another John.  When invited to sit in back with the two girls, he does, and his feeling for Lita becomes defined for him (the heart shows before he actually makes up his mind to take the initiative and take her hand.  His heart leaves the spot on his chest and moves towards her.

At the lake he gets excited about life, joyfully splashes in the water and decides he wants to live.  He’s got a girlfriend.  Hah!

While this may sound like the ultimate happy ending, if you think about it, it’s not the best.  Why does he feel all his problems have been solved simply by having a girlfriend?  Isn’t this the same thing as a woman feeling incomplete without a male counterpart?  I’m happy for John that summer turned out well for him, and he realized that how he responds to people and things determines his happiness, but in responding to Lita’s interest in him–I’m not too sure how crazy he was about her, it’s likely he’d dump her in a New York Minute if Kristi showed up on his doorstep–he’s reinforcing his dependence on others for his happiness.

Maybe that’s why there’s a bit more to this story and it doesn’t just end here.

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WRITING: Bummer.

Wanted to give the same attention in editing to a Storyspace piece I’d finished a couple of months ago as I’d given A Bottle of Beer.  What a drag.

I love the story that’s made up of parallel stories in Paths, but reading it now when I’m dressed up in Ninja form  and swinging a sharpened blade, I just don’t feel like doing it. It’s not that it doesn’t need it, it’s just that it seems like it’s out of the past and I want to step into the future.  In other words, work on the new stuff.  Unfortunately, I may need Paths as part of a presentation on hypertext so it really does need to be edited and edited properly.  With ruthless precision and lack of emotion.  With total disregard for the author’s attachment to the piece.  With the sharp eye and instinct for the environment as an eagle.  And rip and shred facilities of hooked beak and long talons.

I scared.

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WRITING: Story

I’ve gotten these categories all messed up by placing notes on writing itself within the writing category which was supposed to be for my own work but then, the first piece is in Hypertextopia, there’s a couple of short-shorts here, and I’m working on a Storyspace piece that I can only post sections of here.

Anyway, the next story, called "Beginning" because that’s the first Storyspace Writing Space, is a big step out of my genre.  It appears to be leaning towards a political rebellion somewhere.  A woman speaks, a crowd gathers, the crowd is crushed beneath a dictatorship.  The woman, I think, may have been killed.  This should be interesting, maybe even touching on sci-fi, I don’t know.  But I do know that I know nothing of such events that I haven’t gleaned off the news or tv drama and movies.

But then what do I know about Mexico besides jalapenos and cactus?

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REVIEWS: Perfect Example – More on “The Fourth of July”

A few more points of interest on this section that I was too lazy to put in.  On all the sections, with the simplicity of the artwork, where you can barely tell the guys from the gals except for a couple of C’s (symbolic of C-cup  in adolescent dreaming?), the outdoor scenes are by contrast heavily detailed.  For example, the blades of grass are clear on every lawn.  Windowpanes, doors, bushes–they’re all there.   Perhaps it’s foreshadowing the last section where John loves mowing the lawn. There is also another use for these short straight lines besides indicating grass (pot?)

When John is feeling down as he watches Fred and Kristi together on the blanket, there is a radiance of lines on his chest and around his body as he sinks into himself, "back inside where there’s nothing alive."   He also has eyebrows and eyelashes in this closeup of his face, made up of…yep, short lines.

His real anger at being locked out of the house is also at himself and the world that doesn’t work the way he expects and wants it to.  Even his decision to commit suicide is thwarted when he can’t get inside his house.

While I see the ending of this section, where he is in Mark’s office building feeling not a part of the scene ("The faces of people and things around me, there were lights–but I didn’t see them…, sounds–but I didn’t hear them–) demonstrates his mental absence from the world around him.  He sees things (though he claims he doesn’t) going on, but just as with the parties and his friends, he doesn’t feel a part of it.  His conclusion, however, is:  "Because I saw then that life is like a dream."

First of all, he’s a cartoon character and he’s right, none of his world is real.

But, did he really land upon the concept of time and space and the immediacy, the transient nature of the present?  He may have, but I don’t believe he understands it in the same way because he hasn’t come to it from the more logical thought process of seeing the big picture, but rather as a reference to himself within a space.  I think what he’s doing here is turning the problem from blaming himself for being a jerk or a misfit, into a condition of the universe being not real, therefore, moving within it is not real.

Somehow, that makes him feel better.

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WRITING: Character Inspiration

Three things overnight and into this morning combined into this posting.  In class, I was faced with the fact that my obsession with Yolanda was born out of a personal current experience, that I not only felt an empathy with her but that she was a part of me that I was living. 

When I drove home from class, I passed six police cars lined up on the dark road around the corner from my house.  On the eleven p.m. news I found that they were there for a possible murder/suicide.

The Professor posted about a forthcoming entry on character development for his series on writing in hypertext.

Where do our characters come from?  Inspired by people we know or have read about, sure.  But the feelings we impart from our own experience is what makes them real.  Yolanda is an elderly, overweight Mexican woman who has suffered through domineering husbands and a tough life to relax and accept her fate.  Now I’ve been blessed with an inherited metabolism that has always allowed me to eat like swine at a trough and not put on a pound.  New plateaus were reached as the decades went by, but the scales went from ninety-five to a hundred pounds over all that time.  Since I’ve stopped smoking, I’ve put on about ten pounds.  Only once twice before in my life had I reached somewhere close.  Ten pounds ain’t much, but when its all settled in one spot and is ten percent of your body weight, it’s noticeable. 

So that’s where Yolanda’s bulk comes from, the feeling of being more than what I’m used to.  Of taking more space than I’ve been into for so long.  There is a discomforting feeling that I carry with me, and a shock when I first saw my new self in a mirror.  Since it was such a fast change over a short period of time, the bulging of belly over waistband and the heaviness of getting up from a chair or walking across a floor is a sensation that one is aware of as a difference in comfort zone.  Yolanda likely sprang from this awareness.

So how do we recognize a pattern developing in a character?  How do we relate to someone so entirely different from ourselves?  How do I know what a Mexican sun feels like, or how one "settles into" a rocking chair at dusk? 

As I noted yesterday, we have two rocking chairs in our garage–with the recent family dyings we’ve had to clean out a few houses.  We have two more rockers of our own in the house.  One more down the cellar.  Somehow, without conscious recall, all five gathered and became the one on Yolanda’s porch.  The peppers are obviously from my own gardening background; I have strung ristras and ground dried hot peppers into flakes many times.  I’ve felt the sun burning its way into my skin from summers laying on the sand of beaches at the Milford shoreline.

We don’t purposely call to mind these things; they are a part of our makeup and as we write, they likely just come in to fill in the sense and sensual portions of the story of a complete stranger.  A stranger with whom we connect and if we look closer, recognize as a part of ourselves.

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Class Notes: 3/26/08

Featuring John Porcellino’s graphic memoir "Perfect Example," we had a good discussion on both story and form and covered the first section to decipher how story arc and characters are developed with the enhancement of images.  Basically the story is one of teenage angst, the wanting to fit into a world that is sometimes one way, sometimes another. 

Maybe we all drove home thinking about high school and how and if we fit in, who we related to, what groups or individuals had an impact on us or that we might have had some influence upon.  How we survived the transitioning into adulthood–perhaps some of us had an extended youth via campus life, some went into the work atmosphere.  Some, I remember, were already starting families…

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REVIEWS: Perfect Example – Showing through Images

It’s one thing to write "John was feeling alone, half in the world of his youth and in transition to the world of an adult.  It’s another to depend on graphics to get the point across.

There are some obvious tools available in simple facial expressions such as a smile, a frown, tears, wide-eyes and clenched teeth.  All these are emotional devices based on how we communicate without words. Slumped shoulders may indicate despair or feeling low. Porcellino has drawn characters that are easily followed in their moods by their expressions and a few of the more standard elements used in comic strip stories.  The image of the heart indicates John’s feelings for Kristi.  There are differences in mood and attitude indicated by open or closed eyes.  John’s eyes are closed when he is talking to his parents, indicating that he is effectively tuning them out. 

Panels without dialogue normally indicate a transition of scene or break in time.  Porcellino also uses them as a pause for the reader to consider a change in attitude or to emphasize a depth of mood (many frames, perhaps the character moving away from the reader/viewer). 

Porcellino also seems to use closeups and longviews to enhance the loneliness that John feels as he wonders about how he fits in with others.  He pans out to a city, a beach, a large dark area wherein John appears smaller and smaller.  All of these are tools for the graphic writer.

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REVIEWS: Perfect Example – “The Fourth of July”

John sleeps till noon, doesn’t have a summer job, stays out until the early morning hours.  But he does have something going with Lita.  I love the panel where they’re laying on the couch making out, signified by "smack kiss etc."  Yet once they’re interrupted by a phone call, John is feeling down again.  He goes to a party and Kristi is there; his heart jumps out of his body (yes it does–look at the panel).  Kristi has never given him an answer and she wanders off to talk to others.  Lita shows up and it’s obvious that she likes him a lot, but he isn’t into her–blames himself for not allowing himself to be happy. 

On this particular night, John’s hair grows quickly.  His buddy Fred offers him a ride and that’s when he suspects that Fred and Kristi are a couple.

A week later Fred and Kristi pick him up to go watch fireworks.  John’s never felt so alone than being the third wheel and watching them together.  His hurting is shown by several silent panels of Fred and Kristi, John’s heart falling on the ground, and his eyes are closed.  His form and body language as drawn by Porcellino are simple visual signs of his internal stressing.

Back home (with the sun shining?) John’s frustration and anger overflow, especially as he finds himself locked out of his house.  Banging on the door, sobbing, he slides down to the ground, wondering where his family is.  Here there is a panel blank except for an image of lines radiating from a center.

A "smarter" friend finds him, takes him for a ride and they stop where the friend works.  Here is another revelation: " Because I saw then that life is like a dream."

In this last panel of this section, we see what looks like ocean waves with a crescent moon and single star in the sky.  Symbolic, I’d think, of a feeling of being small and alone.

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