The following is an imaginary conversation I have with nonexistent people on a weekly basis. I don't know why. Maybe I'm not the only person who does this. But I probably am.
However
here it is.
Imaginary Person Whom I Have Just Devastatingly Insulted Through My Brilliance: Why are you acting like such a weird-person? Are you on your period?
Me: First of all, No. Second of all, it's not MY period. I didn't ask for it. I didn't invent it. I didn't endorse it. I didn't want it. It comes inconveniently at random intervals to annoy the hell out of me, and I try to ignore it as best as I can until it goes away. But apart from that, I neither have nor want any affiliation with it. It isn't MINE. It's not an entity for which I am responsible, in fact, I take no responsibility--repeat--NO responsibility--for its behavior. I am responsible for my own behavior, but not for anything it does which is beyond my control. It isn't MY period, just like this drought in California isn't OUR drought. Stop calling it MINE. Rant over.
Why, Beth, you say, is it that time of the month?
No, believe me, it's not. I seriously have this conversation with the IPWIHJDITMB (see above) at least once a week. I don't know why. Maybe that's something I should bring up in therapy. But maybe not.
Have a good weekend!
Saturday, October 1, 2016
Monday, September 26, 2016
A Thought on the Third Commandment
Hello!
Welcome to this week's Post For Writing Practice in which I post something for the purpose of honing my writing skills.
I have a question this time for my Catholic compatriots, and it's a little more serious than is the modus operandi of this blog, but I'm going to ask because it's something that's been on my mind.
Here's the question:
What exactly does it mean to "take Our Lord's Name in vain?"
In the absurd little microcosm I've been trying to create for this book of mine, I have characters that occasionally say things like, "Jesus!" or "Oh, my God." One of them does because that's her style and she doesn't care if it offends the people around her (she's a little bit rude) but the others do it only (emphasis on 'only') when they are genuinely distressed, disturbed, disconcerted, or discombobulated. They do not (emphasis on 'not') use such expressions simply to express irritability or annoyance or even surprise.
I might be wrong, but I don't think referring to God when someone is genuinely distressed, disturbed, disconcerted, or discombobulated, is the same thing as 'using His Name in vain.' There are times in this universe when life is a little distressing, disturbing, disconcerting, or discombobulating, and at such times I often feel that I'd like to say His Name, if only to remind myself that He's there. And I do, and I enjoy it.
I might be wrong. But, on the other hand, I could be right. That's all I got to say about that.
Welcome to this week's Post For Writing Practice in which I post something for the purpose of honing my writing skills.
I have a question this time for my Catholic compatriots, and it's a little more serious than is the modus operandi of this blog, but I'm going to ask because it's something that's been on my mind.
Here's the question:
What exactly does it mean to "take Our Lord's Name in vain?"
In the absurd little microcosm I've been trying to create for this book of mine, I have characters that occasionally say things like, "Jesus!" or "Oh, my God." One of them does because that's her style and she doesn't care if it offends the people around her (she's a little bit rude) but the others do it only (emphasis on 'only') when they are genuinely distressed, disturbed, disconcerted, or discombobulated. They do not (emphasis on 'not') use such expressions simply to express irritability or annoyance or even surprise.
I might be wrong, but I don't think referring to God when someone is genuinely distressed, disturbed, disconcerted, or discombobulated, is the same thing as 'using His Name in vain.' There are times in this universe when life is a little distressing, disturbing, disconcerting, or discombobulating, and at such times I often feel that I'd like to say His Name, if only to remind myself that He's there. And I do, and I enjoy it.
I might be wrong. But, on the other hand, I could be right. That's all I got to say about that.
Friday, September 16, 2016
A Thought On Comic-Relief Spin-Offs
Hello!
Welcome to This Week's Writing Practice Thing. The place where I write about things about which I know nothing and pretend that I do. But it's all for a good cause. Actually, no, it isn't; I'm just doing it because I want to.
However,
as per usual, my purpose today is to complain about Things The Movie Industry Does To Annoy Me. That's not to say I don't like movies and think you're inferior if you're a movie buff, because I do not in fact dislike movies and think you're inferior if you're a movie buff. I am making this complaint simply because I like some movies better than others, and I think I've discovered why.
Here's a factoid about me: I like the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie better than its descendants. Why, you ask, do I like the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie better than its descendants? I'll tell you why: after the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie came out, the Movie Makers allegedly [i.e. I'm making this up] asked the Public who their favorite character was. Most people voted for Captain Jack Sparrow. 'We want more of Captain Jack Sparrow!' they said. 'Give us more Captain Jack Sparrow!' they said. 'Captain Jack Sparrow Rules!' they said. So, then they made another movie about Captain Jack Sparrow. And then another. And then another. And still the Public cried, 'More! More! Long live Captain Jack Sparrow!' And thus, Pirates of the Caribbean 5 is coming to a theater near you [and probably another one further away from you, but that doesn't matter because you won't be going to that one because it's inconvenient] in 2017!
Here's my beef: as much as I love Captain Jack Sparrow, I'd like to suggest that it's a bad idea to build stories around the comic relief character--and I know that Captain Jack is the main character, but one can't deny that he provides about 75 or 76% of the comic relief in what I've seen of the movies [which includes the first three]. In other words, when you construct drama and action and intrigue just for the sake of comic relief, your drama and action and intrigue lose the keen sting that is the reason we delve into stories in the first place. And because your drama and action and intrigue have become weak, your comic relief becomes weak as well because the Public now doesn't want to be relieved, they want Something from which they need to be relieved in the first place. The drama unfolds, and the Public waits for more, better drama to unfold, but when they're struck with the comic relief they realize, 'Oh, crap, comic relief means that the drama's over. Was that it? Boo!' And thus the comic relief is tainted by whining and rotten cabbages.
This probably isn't always the case. But I don't feel like thinking of an instance in which it's not, because it's dinner time and I'm lazy. But I have noticed that spin-off movies featuring the comic relief character as the main character tend to be less successful than the original feature.
Here are some examples to exemplify my point so you can see how smart I am:
*note: this is an OPINION-BASED POST. If you think the spin-off/sequel movies listed below are better than I think they are, let me say you're probably right, and I don't look down on you for enjoying them, and it's just my nit-picky brain being an ass and I apologize [but not really because it's a free country and I'm allowed to slightly dislike things if I want to]*
1. Kronk's New Groove [Spin-off of The Emperor's New Groove]
2. Timmy Time [Spin-off of Shaun the Sheep]
3. Finding Dory [Sequel to Finding Nemo]
4. The Tigger Movie [Spin-off of Winnie-the-Pooh]
5. The Lion King 1 1/2 [Spin-off of The Lion King]
6. Minions [Spin-off of Despicable Me]
I don't think the Lego Batman movie's out yet, but when I heard it was coming out, I guessed it would probably end up on a list like the one above for the reasons listed above. I might be wrong. I don't know.
However,
that's why I wouldn't be excited if somebody decided to make a story called, "The Adventures of Fred and George Weasley," or "Merry and Pippin 2: The Reckoning," or "Dr. DeBryn Does it Again," or "Jud and Prudy's Big Holiday."
Even comedies have comic-relief characters [but that's another discussion]. But I think that even if the story's a comedy, I think a spin-off comedy starring the comic-relief character is a bad idea. That's all I got to say about that.
Beth out.
Welcome to This Week's Writing Practice Thing. The place where I write about things about which I know nothing and pretend that I do. But it's all for a good cause. Actually, no, it isn't; I'm just doing it because I want to.
However,
as per usual, my purpose today is to complain about Things The Movie Industry Does To Annoy Me. That's not to say I don't like movies and think you're inferior if you're a movie buff, because I do not in fact dislike movies and think you're inferior if you're a movie buff. I am making this complaint simply because I like some movies better than others, and I think I've discovered why.
Here's a factoid about me: I like the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie better than its descendants. Why, you ask, do I like the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie better than its descendants? I'll tell you why: after the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie came out, the Movie Makers allegedly [i.e. I'm making this up] asked the Public who their favorite character was. Most people voted for Captain Jack Sparrow. 'We want more of Captain Jack Sparrow!' they said. 'Give us more Captain Jack Sparrow!' they said. 'Captain Jack Sparrow Rules!' they said. So, then they made another movie about Captain Jack Sparrow. And then another. And then another. And still the Public cried, 'More! More! Long live Captain Jack Sparrow!' And thus, Pirates of the Caribbean 5 is coming to a theater near you [and probably another one further away from you, but that doesn't matter because you won't be going to that one because it's inconvenient] in 2017!
Here's my beef: as much as I love Captain Jack Sparrow, I'd like to suggest that it's a bad idea to build stories around the comic relief character--and I know that Captain Jack is the main character, but one can't deny that he provides about 75 or 76% of the comic relief in what I've seen of the movies [which includes the first three]. In other words, when you construct drama and action and intrigue just for the sake of comic relief, your drama and action and intrigue lose the keen sting that is the reason we delve into stories in the first place. And because your drama and action and intrigue have become weak, your comic relief becomes weak as well because the Public now doesn't want to be relieved, they want Something from which they need to be relieved in the first place. The drama unfolds, and the Public waits for more, better drama to unfold, but when they're struck with the comic relief they realize, 'Oh, crap, comic relief means that the drama's over. Was that it? Boo!' And thus the comic relief is tainted by whining and rotten cabbages.
This probably isn't always the case. But I don't feel like thinking of an instance in which it's not, because it's dinner time and I'm lazy. But I have noticed that spin-off movies featuring the comic relief character as the main character tend to be less successful than the original feature.
Here are some examples to exemplify my point so you can see how smart I am:
*note: this is an OPINION-BASED POST. If you think the spin-off/sequel movies listed below are better than I think they are, let me say you're probably right, and I don't look down on you for enjoying them, and it's just my nit-picky brain being an ass and I apologize [but not really because it's a free country and I'm allowed to slightly dislike things if I want to]*
1. Kronk's New Groove [Spin-off of The Emperor's New Groove]
2. Timmy Time [Spin-off of Shaun the Sheep]
3. Finding Dory [Sequel to Finding Nemo]
4. The Tigger Movie [Spin-off of Winnie-the-Pooh]
5. The Lion King 1 1/2 [Spin-off of The Lion King]
6. Minions [Spin-off of Despicable Me]
I don't think the Lego Batman movie's out yet, but when I heard it was coming out, I guessed it would probably end up on a list like the one above for the reasons listed above. I might be wrong. I don't know.
However,
that's why I wouldn't be excited if somebody decided to make a story called, "The Adventures of Fred and George Weasley," or "Merry and Pippin 2: The Reckoning," or "Dr. DeBryn Does it Again," or "Jud and Prudy's Big Holiday."
Even comedies have comic-relief characters [but that's another discussion]. But I think that even if the story's a comedy, I think a spin-off comedy starring the comic-relief character is a bad idea. That's all I got to say about that.
Beth out.
Tuesday, August 30, 2016
A Word on Genre Apportionment
Hello!
As of now, it has been thirteen (13) days since I last wrote something and posted it for people to observe critically, like a critic observing a piece of writing. This, as you know, is against the Post One Thing Every Week Rule and as such is to be frowned upon.
One reason why I haven't posted anything since August 16, 2016 in the year of Our Lord is because I cannot think of anything to post in re my book-thing. Those things which I have thought to post in re my book-thing I have not posted for the simple reason that I feel like a Poop and a Ham whenever I talk about this bit of bad literature I'm trying to write which, as one may infer from my sub-par metaphor found in the above paragraph, is rubbish.
But this is all immaterial. I began this post with the intent of telling you (whoever you are) about my thoughts on genre apportionment.
My thoughts on genre apportionment are as follows:
There are three genres of popular fiction which I can think of at the moment. These three may overlap over one another or they may stand alone, but regardless of what they do to each other they remain Mystery, Comedy and Romance. I was going to say that there are four and include Sci-Fi/Fantasy, but then I thought that Sci-Fi/Fantasy is more of a setting than a genre. Then I was going to say that there are four again and include Drama, but if one is honest with oneself, one will realize that nobody actually knows what the hell Drama is. It's what people call a book or movie when there isn't a large enough fraction of Mystery, Comedy, or Romance to make it a Mystery, Comedy, or Romance. I believe Forrest Gump is a drama. So is To Kill a Mockingbird. Also The Border Trilogy. One might argue that The Border Trilogy is a Western, but like Sci-Fi/Fantasy, I would classify "Western" as a setting rather than a genre.
I've been having some thought on what [if any] genre my book-thing will be if it ever emerges out of the primordial slime from whence it came, and I think I've largely settled on Comedy. Of course, this implies that it's funny, which it may or may not be depending on how stupid it turns out I am. But all-in-all, I think I've settled on Comedy. Some of my close compatriots have suggested that it's a Romantic Comedy, but I would like to argue in the paragraph below that it's not [and not just because I'm unreasonably prejudiced].
My book-thing, which I'm going to call Title X because I'm tired of calling it "my book-thing," is not a Romantic Comedy for the following reasons:
1. At the beginning, Girl A and Boy A have already fallen in love, so the falling-in-love process is not anywhere to be found in the least.
2. Girl A and Boy A [supposedly] do not interact at all until Chapter 29. Or 30, depending on whether or not I decide to leave in Scene XVICLJ.
3. Boy B is neither Girl A's Gay Best Friend, nor is he Girl A's Dark Person For Whom She Ditches Boy A.
I thought Title X might turn out to be a Mystery, but it likewise didn't. Title X, I think, is not a mystery because
1. There are no detectives, except for one or two scenes in which Girl A and Boy B try unsuccessfully to determine what the hell is going on
and
2. There are [supposedly] no dead bodies
However, it still might be a mystery because
1. Neither Girl A, nor Boy A, nor Boy B have any idea what's actually going on (and neither will Reader A, if I'm successful).
and
2. Old Woman A [supposedly] carries a weapon
and
3. Reader A (if I'm successful) will be unable to determine who exactly Man A is, what is his relationship to Old Woman A, and why Old Woman A is not happy to see him in Scene XIYTSF.
So maybe it is a mystery. But it's meant to be predominately a comedy. I could go further and say it's a dark comedy, but that's getting into sub-genres, about which I am not in the mood to chat because I don't have time.
So, for now I'm going to call Title X a Comedy- Mystery. Title X 2: The Sequel I think will be more of a Comedy-Drama, and Title X 3: The Threequel I think will revert back to Comedy-Mystery. With some Drama. I said before that nobody knows what the word "Drama" means, but now that I think about it, I think it just means "Misc." With at least a little Tragedy. I forgot the word "Tragedy" existed, so now I have to re-write the whole thing, dammit. But I don't have time.
Beth out.
As of now, it has been thirteen (13) days since I last wrote something and posted it for people to observe critically, like a critic observing a piece of writing. This, as you know, is against the Post One Thing Every Week Rule and as such is to be frowned upon.
One reason why I haven't posted anything since August 16, 2016 in the year of Our Lord is because I cannot think of anything to post in re my book-thing. Those things which I have thought to post in re my book-thing I have not posted for the simple reason that I feel like a Poop and a Ham whenever I talk about this bit of bad literature I'm trying to write which, as one may infer from my sub-par metaphor found in the above paragraph, is rubbish.
But this is all immaterial. I began this post with the intent of telling you (whoever you are) about my thoughts on genre apportionment.
My thoughts on genre apportionment are as follows:
There are three genres of popular fiction which I can think of at the moment. These three may overlap over one another or they may stand alone, but regardless of what they do to each other they remain Mystery, Comedy and Romance. I was going to say that there are four and include Sci-Fi/Fantasy, but then I thought that Sci-Fi/Fantasy is more of a setting than a genre. Then I was going to say that there are four again and include Drama, but if one is honest with oneself, one will realize that nobody actually knows what the hell Drama is. It's what people call a book or movie when there isn't a large enough fraction of Mystery, Comedy, or Romance to make it a Mystery, Comedy, or Romance. I believe Forrest Gump is a drama. So is To Kill a Mockingbird. Also The Border Trilogy. One might argue that The Border Trilogy is a Western, but like Sci-Fi/Fantasy, I would classify "Western" as a setting rather than a genre.
I've been having some thought on what [if any] genre my book-thing will be if it ever emerges out of the primordial slime from whence it came, and I think I've largely settled on Comedy. Of course, this implies that it's funny, which it may or may not be depending on how stupid it turns out I am. But all-in-all, I think I've settled on Comedy. Some of my close compatriots have suggested that it's a Romantic Comedy, but I would like to argue in the paragraph below that it's not [and not just because I'm unreasonably prejudiced].
My book-thing, which I'm going to call Title X because I'm tired of calling it "my book-thing," is not a Romantic Comedy for the following reasons:
1. At the beginning, Girl A and Boy A have already fallen in love, so the falling-in-love process is not anywhere to be found in the least.
2. Girl A and Boy A [supposedly] do not interact at all until Chapter 29. Or 30, depending on whether or not I decide to leave in Scene XVICLJ.
3. Boy B is neither Girl A's Gay Best Friend, nor is he Girl A's Dark Person For Whom She Ditches Boy A.
I thought Title X might turn out to be a Mystery, but it likewise didn't. Title X, I think, is not a mystery because
1. There are no detectives, except for one or two scenes in which Girl A and Boy B try unsuccessfully to determine what the hell is going on
and
2. There are [supposedly] no dead bodies
However, it still might be a mystery because
1. Neither Girl A, nor Boy A, nor Boy B have any idea what's actually going on (and neither will Reader A, if I'm successful).
and
2. Old Woman A [supposedly] carries a weapon
and
3. Reader A (if I'm successful) will be unable to determine who exactly Man A is, what is his relationship to Old Woman A, and why Old Woman A is not happy to see him in Scene XIYTSF.
So maybe it is a mystery. But it's meant to be predominately a comedy. I could go further and say it's a dark comedy, but that's getting into sub-genres, about which I am not in the mood to chat because I don't have time.
So, for now I'm going to call Title X a Comedy- Mystery. Title X 2: The Sequel I think will be more of a Comedy-Drama, and Title X 3: The Threequel I think will revert back to Comedy-Mystery. With some Drama. I said before that nobody knows what the word "Drama" means, but now that I think about it, I think it just means "Misc." With at least a little Tragedy. I forgot the word "Tragedy" existed, so now I have to re-write the whole thing, dammit. But I don't have time.
Beth out.
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
Character Goals Update
Hello!
This week's Mandatory Blog Post For Practicing Writing/Publishing is actually a post that I wrote some centuries ago, but which I am now updating for posterity and because I want to.
In the aforementioned post of some centuries ago, I believe I outlined my goals for What Kind Of A Person I Want Each Of My Major Characters To Be. Because I'm new at novel-writing and because it worked out that way, the above Major Characters total just four, which makes it easier for everybody concerned, except perhaps the actual characters who I think probably want more guidance through life than they're currently getting. But, as I explained to them last night, wringing intellectuals and street-smart personages out of my brain is not my forte, so I'm afraid they will have to make do with what they have.
As I also mentioned in the post from some centuries ago, I don't want to disclose my little people's names just yet. I don't know why. But I have a feeling that if I talk as if they're real live characters before my book is even rejected by a publisher, it'll spoil it for when they do come to life [if ever]. So, for the purpose of this post, I'm calling them G, M, C, and F.
Last time around, I said that G was my Piglet. I'm happy to inform you that, after several months of writing and revising, she's still my Piglet, and my overall goal is to gradually give her a touch of Pooh as a means of lessening her anxiety.
I thought that M was going to turn out to be a similar version of Piglet, but after struggling with him somewhat and hitting him on the face with a large stick several times, I've discovered that he's more Rabbit than Piglet, which suits me fine. Later in the story he's going to try to act as Christopher Robin which is going to go very badly for him, whereupon he will return to his previous station as Rabbit. Note: as much as I love Disney's interpretation of Winnie the Pooh, I have to clarify that I'm siphoning off of A.A. Milne's Rabbit, not Disney's. A.A.M.'s Rabbit is helpful and kind, but in a pompous sort of way, and he has far less of the Crochety Old Man than W.D.'s Rabbit.
C is a little puzzling. I said last time that he would tell you he's more Eeyore than Tigger, while in reality he behaves more like Tigger than Eeyore. But after some coffee and contemplation, I've discovered that C will tell you nothing about himself because talking about himself makes him uncomfortable, and that he perhaps is mostly Tigger after all with just a little Small [if you're familiar with A.A. Milne's Winnie the Pooh, you know about whom I'm talking]. Like M, C at a later point in the story is going to try to become Christopher Robin which likewise is going to go very badly for him, whereupon he will resume his place as Tigger [with even more Small than before].
I said before that F was my Owl, my Kanga, and my Rabbit, but after some extensive probing, I discovered that she's almost entirely Eeyore. I'm a little bit pleased about that.
If I'm still working on this thing by next year, I'll post another Update to see if they've changed more [or less]. But I think I'm happy with them at the moment.
Yours Truly
Beth
This week's Mandatory Blog Post For Practicing Writing/Publishing is actually a post that I wrote some centuries ago, but which I am now updating for posterity and because I want to.
In the aforementioned post of some centuries ago, I believe I outlined my goals for What Kind Of A Person I Want Each Of My Major Characters To Be. Because I'm new at novel-writing and because it worked out that way, the above Major Characters total just four, which makes it easier for everybody concerned, except perhaps the actual characters who I think probably want more guidance through life than they're currently getting. But, as I explained to them last night, wringing intellectuals and street-smart personages out of my brain is not my forte, so I'm afraid they will have to make do with what they have.
As I also mentioned in the post from some centuries ago, I don't want to disclose my little people's names just yet. I don't know why. But I have a feeling that if I talk as if they're real live characters before my book is even rejected by a publisher, it'll spoil it for when they do come to life [if ever]. So, for the purpose of this post, I'm calling them G, M, C, and F.
Last time around, I said that G was my Piglet. I'm happy to inform you that, after several months of writing and revising, she's still my Piglet, and my overall goal is to gradually give her a touch of Pooh as a means of lessening her anxiety.
I thought that M was going to turn out to be a similar version of Piglet, but after struggling with him somewhat and hitting him on the face with a large stick several times, I've discovered that he's more Rabbit than Piglet, which suits me fine. Later in the story he's going to try to act as Christopher Robin which is going to go very badly for him, whereupon he will return to his previous station as Rabbit. Note: as much as I love Disney's interpretation of Winnie the Pooh, I have to clarify that I'm siphoning off of A.A. Milne's Rabbit, not Disney's. A.A.M.'s Rabbit is helpful and kind, but in a pompous sort of way, and he has far less of the Crochety Old Man than W.D.'s Rabbit.
C is a little puzzling. I said last time that he would tell you he's more Eeyore than Tigger, while in reality he behaves more like Tigger than Eeyore. But after some coffee and contemplation, I've discovered that C will tell you nothing about himself because talking about himself makes him uncomfortable, and that he perhaps is mostly Tigger after all with just a little Small [if you're familiar with A.A. Milne's Winnie the Pooh, you know about whom I'm talking]. Like M, C at a later point in the story is going to try to become Christopher Robin which likewise is going to go very badly for him, whereupon he will resume his place as Tigger [with even more Small than before].
I said before that F was my Owl, my Kanga, and my Rabbit, but after some extensive probing, I discovered that she's almost entirely Eeyore. I'm a little bit pleased about that.
If I'm still working on this thing by next year, I'll post another Update to see if they've changed more [or less]. But I think I'm happy with them at the moment.
Yours Truly
Beth
Monday, August 8, 2016
Is My Climax Cornball?
Hello!
I think I've already said in a previous post that the reason I don't blog much anymore [thank God] is because I'm trying to write a book [oh, no]. I've got about thirty chapters so far, most of them written and re-written and edited and tweaked and applied with botox or lethal injection, and I think the best thing I can say about it at this point is that it isn't all bad. My primary concern is that I'm not very good at writing. So, I've decided to write more.
My new goal which I made about thirty seconds ago is to write one blog post every week and to share it so that anyone who feels so inclined may tell me what I'm doing wrong and why my writing is only palatable for the uncultured neanderthals of this world who only recently emerged from the primordial slime from whence they came. I said just now that my primary concern is that I'm not a good writer, but in truth I have also been fretting like an epileptic chicken over whether or not my story and characters are, as PG Wodehouse would say, fit for human consumption.
So, without giving away any details or major spoilers, I'd like to run by you [whoever you are] the climax of the sequel that's been bouncing around in my head for about nine months and that I've just recently put down on paper.
The story [hopefully a dark comedy] I'm currently working on consists of characters Girl A, Boy A, Boy B, and Old Woman B. The first book, if I'm successful, will deal primarily between the relationship between Girl A and Boy A. The second book, if I'm equally successful, will orbit around the relationship between Girl A and Boy B. In this sequel [an even darker comedy] I'm hoping, Boy B is going to pull a nasty prank on Girl A, but with the best intentions, resulting in Girl A changing her outlook on life and on herself all for the better. Just before the climax, however, Girl A is going to discover that this change she has recently underwent is the result of the aforementioned nasty prank pulled on her by Boy B, and will thereby become very angry with Boy B and storm off leaving Boy B to fester in self-pity.
Now, at the climax, enter Villain A, who was instrumental in the execution of the nasty prank, and who, for his own reasons, has no cause to love Boy B. Villain A then does something terrible to Boy B, and it's hilarious. Re-enter Girl A to discover Boy B in a state of minor decomposition.
We now come to the Important Part of the climax which consists of a flashback to when Boy B was a child, and we witness him doing Something Secret which
1. Explains one of the more prominent aspects of his character
2. Shows his relationship with Girl A in an entirely new light
3. Raises the stakes in the first part of the climax
and
4. Makes us feel very sorry for him.
In addition, the transition between the Catastrophe and the Flashback will [hopefully] be such that the reader, not knowing we are now in Flashbackville, will believe for a sentence or two that Boy B has completely expired and will gasp and say either, "Hooray, he's dead," or "Oh, no, not Boy B," depending on their liking for the character.
What I'm worried about is,
1. Are flashbacks considered cornball by the literary community?
2. Does any of it sound cornball?
3. Am I cornball for writing it?
4. If I am cornball, does that mean I'm a terrible person?
5. If it does make me a terrible person, can I do it anyway because I want to?
6. Does that mean I'm going to hell?
That's all I wanted to know. If you [whoever you are] have any strong opinions for or against it, I would be happy to hear them. Don't be nice to me, because I'm trying to develop a thick skin.
Thank you very much and have a fantastic day!
Yours Truly,
Beth
I think I've already said in a previous post that the reason I don't blog much anymore [thank God] is because I'm trying to write a book [oh, no]. I've got about thirty chapters so far, most of them written and re-written and edited and tweaked and applied with botox or lethal injection, and I think the best thing I can say about it at this point is that it isn't all bad. My primary concern is that I'm not very good at writing. So, I've decided to write more.
My new goal which I made about thirty seconds ago is to write one blog post every week and to share it so that anyone who feels so inclined may tell me what I'm doing wrong and why my writing is only palatable for the uncultured neanderthals of this world who only recently emerged from the primordial slime from whence they came. I said just now that my primary concern is that I'm not a good writer, but in truth I have also been fretting like an epileptic chicken over whether or not my story and characters are, as PG Wodehouse would say, fit for human consumption.
So, without giving away any details or major spoilers, I'd like to run by you [whoever you are] the climax of the sequel that's been bouncing around in my head for about nine months and that I've just recently put down on paper.
The story [hopefully a dark comedy] I'm currently working on consists of characters Girl A, Boy A, Boy B, and Old Woman B. The first book, if I'm successful, will deal primarily between the relationship between Girl A and Boy A. The second book, if I'm equally successful, will orbit around the relationship between Girl A and Boy B. In this sequel [an even darker comedy] I'm hoping, Boy B is going to pull a nasty prank on Girl A, but with the best intentions, resulting in Girl A changing her outlook on life and on herself all for the better. Just before the climax, however, Girl A is going to discover that this change she has recently underwent is the result of the aforementioned nasty prank pulled on her by Boy B, and will thereby become very angry with Boy B and storm off leaving Boy B to fester in self-pity.
Now, at the climax, enter Villain A, who was instrumental in the execution of the nasty prank, and who, for his own reasons, has no cause to love Boy B. Villain A then does something terrible to Boy B, and it's hilarious. Re-enter Girl A to discover Boy B in a state of minor decomposition.
We now come to the Important Part of the climax which consists of a flashback to when Boy B was a child, and we witness him doing Something Secret which
1. Explains one of the more prominent aspects of his character
2. Shows his relationship with Girl A in an entirely new light
3. Raises the stakes in the first part of the climax
and
4. Makes us feel very sorry for him.
In addition, the transition between the Catastrophe and the Flashback will [hopefully] be such that the reader, not knowing we are now in Flashbackville, will believe for a sentence or two that Boy B has completely expired and will gasp and say either, "Hooray, he's dead," or "Oh, no, not Boy B," depending on their liking for the character.
What I'm worried about is,
1. Are flashbacks considered cornball by the literary community?
2. Does any of it sound cornball?
3. Am I cornball for writing it?
4. If I am cornball, does that mean I'm a terrible person?
5. If it does make me a terrible person, can I do it anyway because I want to?
6. Does that mean I'm going to hell?
That's all I wanted to know. If you [whoever you are] have any strong opinions for or against it, I would be happy to hear them. Don't be nice to me, because I'm trying to develop a thick skin.
Thank you very much and have a fantastic day!
Yours Truly,
Beth
Thursday, March 17, 2016
A Word on The Rules of Humor
What ho!
I was talking to my good friend Mitchell the other day [Hi Mitchell!] and I was trying very badly to explain why Hot Fuzz is my favorite comedy/action movie thus far. But after some thought and coffee and alcohol and listening to an episode of "John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme," I think I know why.
Here's why:
Actually the "why" part will come after the following backstory which is necessary in order for the "why" to have its full intended impact.
So, here's the backstory on the "why:"
I was listening to "John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme" [season 2, episode 4, available on itunes and unofficially endorsed by yours truly] and this episode included one of my favorite sketches paraphrased below:
[preliminary bit of exposition dialogue]
John: ...The new boss? I'll tell you what I think of him. He's vain, he's witless, he's morbidly obese and he's standing right behind me, isn't he?
Woman: No.
Man: Of course he isn't. We would've said.
John: Oh. Well, then, I can go on to say, he's ignorant, pretentious, has appalling personal hygiene, and he really is standing right behind me, isn't he?
Woman: No, he's not.
John: Then why have you got weird, awkward, frozen looks on your faces?
Woman: Because you've just launched into a tirade of furious bile against a man we just met.
Man: Also, you seem to be suffering from quite a powerful delusion that he's following you.
John: Yeah, but...oh, God, has no-one told you? I'm a sitcom character.
Man and Woman: Ohhhh..
Woman: So sorry.
Man: We'll make allowances.
Woman: Yeah, and can I just say, I think it's great they're making jobs for you people.
[end clip of sketch]
The reason why I find this funny [and I think why JF thought it would be funny] is because of two reasons:
(1) it sets you up for one scenario and switches to a different scenario unexpectedly
and
(2) it challenges the traditional formula for funniness which, although classic, does get a little stale after a certain amount of time.
As much as tradition is king in many areas of study, a break from the traditional rules of humor is refreshing, and can make us laugh because it points out existing rules we never realized were there until they were broken.
One thing I found a refreshing break from tradition in Hot Fuzz was the way they handled Nicholas buying a birthday present for Danny. If you haven't seen Hot Fuzz, I'll give you a bit of its backstory. And if you have seen Hot Fuzz, I'll give you the backstory anyway because I'm the Queen of this blog and I want to. The part of the movie I have in mind is the bit when Nicholas finds out it's Danny's birthday, and he leaves the party to get Danny a present which puts him in a place where he witnesses a murder, and the present is impounded as evidence, leaving Nicholas and therefore Danny presentless.
The first time I saw the movie, I thought it would play out as follows:
Danny: Hey, where'd you go off to?
Nicholas: [too embarrassed to tell Danny he was getting him a present ] I--uh--nowhere.
Danny: You left my party and hurt my feelings!
Nicholas: I--uh--yeah!
Danny: Well, you can go find yourself a new adorable little friend! [storms off adorably]
Nicholas: Danny, wait! I--oh, dammit.
Followed by them having to work together even though they're angry at each other, saving each other's lives, Danny accidentally finding out about the birthday present, and the two of them sharing an apologetic handshake.
Here's how it actually played out:
Danny: Did you really get me that plant?
Nicholas: Yes, I did. But it's been impounded as evidence.
Danny: Well, maybe Dad'll still let me water it.
Nicholas: Yeah.
Danny: [pats Nicholas manlily on the shoulder].
which was funnier, sweeter, and in all other ways better, than the scenario I had expected. However, the imagined scenario is the one I've seen more often in movies/telly than an alternative to that scenario. When I made a mental note of that, I asked myself, "Self, if the alternate is better, why do people always use the traditional one?" "Why, self," I answered myself, "it's because the traditional one has worked in the past, and because we already know that it's funny, so there's no risk involved." This isn't an eye-opener, because a lot of people have already made this criticism of tradition. And while I strongly believe that tradition is an important component of family life, science, possibly government, religion, and all that crap, I believe that the world of aesthetics deserves a little bit more tradition-breaking than it typically gets.
Hot Fuzz also broke tradition in the way it dealt with relationships between the characters. If Danny and Nicholas were written into one of our typical comedy serials, I can guarantee you that some 50% of the comedy would come from everybody thinking they're gay. It's happened in Psych, Supernatural, The Office, The IT Crowd, and probably other shows that I'm not thinking of at the moment. I wish I had a nickel for every time I've wanted to shout at the TV, "IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE A ROMANCE--REGULAR FRIENDSHIPS EXIST TOO, YA KNOW." I never shouted that at Hot Fuzz. To be fair, I never shouted it at anything else either, because I don't shout, but that's something I'm trying to work on.
There's an episode of The Dick van Dyke Show where Ritchie has a "take your father to school day" and Rob has to explain to a room full of six-year-olds how to be funny (season 1, episode 23. I think). I disremember the actual quote, and amazon prime won't let me watch the episode to find it out, but basically what Rob said was that people laugh at things that were unexpected. The opposite can be true, too. I think the best fun I had watching Supernatural (season 4, whichever episode is called "On the Head of a Pin") was when the demon of interest said "Go directly to hell," and I thought "do not pass 'Go,' do not collect $200,' and then just after I thought it, he said, "do not pass 'Go,' do not collect $200." I don't know if this was funny because of the coincidence or because I was just tickled that my thought was something considered funny by professional writers who were trying to be funny on purpose.
That's not to say there's a "right way" to be amused. You can have whatever sense of humor you happen to have. It's just that mine is a scrupulous, analytical, calculating brain which has to analyze everything that's not bolted to the floor, and when my gut likes something, my brain has to think up every conceivable argument for why I'm allowed to go with my gut. So, if I've shouted at you for not liking a thing as much as I do, it's because my brain has worked very, very hard to justify my gut and it is now overly sensitive on the subject, and I apologize.
That's all I've got to say about that.
I was talking to my good friend Mitchell the other day [Hi Mitchell!] and I was trying very badly to explain why Hot Fuzz is my favorite comedy/action movie thus far. But after some thought and coffee and alcohol and listening to an episode of "John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme," I think I know why.
Here's why:
Actually the "why" part will come after the following backstory which is necessary in order for the "why" to have its full intended impact.
So, here's the backstory on the "why:"
I was listening to "John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme" [season 2, episode 4, available on itunes and unofficially endorsed by yours truly] and this episode included one of my favorite sketches paraphrased below:
[preliminary bit of exposition dialogue]
John: ...The new boss? I'll tell you what I think of him. He's vain, he's witless, he's morbidly obese and he's standing right behind me, isn't he?
Woman: No.
Man: Of course he isn't. We would've said.
John: Oh. Well, then, I can go on to say, he's ignorant, pretentious, has appalling personal hygiene, and he really is standing right behind me, isn't he?
Woman: No, he's not.
John: Then why have you got weird, awkward, frozen looks on your faces?
Woman: Because you've just launched into a tirade of furious bile against a man we just met.
Man: Also, you seem to be suffering from quite a powerful delusion that he's following you.
John: Yeah, but...oh, God, has no-one told you? I'm a sitcom character.
Man and Woman: Ohhhh..
Woman: So sorry.
Man: We'll make allowances.
Woman: Yeah, and can I just say, I think it's great they're making jobs for you people.
[end clip of sketch]
The reason why I find this funny [and I think why JF thought it would be funny] is because of two reasons:
(1) it sets you up for one scenario and switches to a different scenario unexpectedly
and
(2) it challenges the traditional formula for funniness which, although classic, does get a little stale after a certain amount of time.
As much as tradition is king in many areas of study, a break from the traditional rules of humor is refreshing, and can make us laugh because it points out existing rules we never realized were there until they were broken.
One thing I found a refreshing break from tradition in Hot Fuzz was the way they handled Nicholas buying a birthday present for Danny. If you haven't seen Hot Fuzz, I'll give you a bit of its backstory. And if you have seen Hot Fuzz, I'll give you the backstory anyway because I'm the Queen of this blog and I want to. The part of the movie I have in mind is the bit when Nicholas finds out it's Danny's birthday, and he leaves the party to get Danny a present which puts him in a place where he witnesses a murder, and the present is impounded as evidence, leaving Nicholas and therefore Danny presentless.
The first time I saw the movie, I thought it would play out as follows:
Danny: Hey, where'd you go off to?
Nicholas: [too embarrassed to tell Danny he was getting him a present ] I--uh--nowhere.
Danny: You left my party and hurt my feelings!
Nicholas: I--uh--yeah!
Danny: Well, you can go find yourself a new adorable little friend! [storms off adorably]
Nicholas: Danny, wait! I--oh, dammit.
Followed by them having to work together even though they're angry at each other, saving each other's lives, Danny accidentally finding out about the birthday present, and the two of them sharing an apologetic handshake.
Here's how it actually played out:
Danny: Did you really get me that plant?
Nicholas: Yes, I did. But it's been impounded as evidence.
Danny: Well, maybe Dad'll still let me water it.
Nicholas: Yeah.
Danny: [pats Nicholas manlily on the shoulder].
which was funnier, sweeter, and in all other ways better, than the scenario I had expected. However, the imagined scenario is the one I've seen more often in movies/telly than an alternative to that scenario. When I made a mental note of that, I asked myself, "Self, if the alternate is better, why do people always use the traditional one?" "Why, self," I answered myself, "it's because the traditional one has worked in the past, and because we already know that it's funny, so there's no risk involved." This isn't an eye-opener, because a lot of people have already made this criticism of tradition. And while I strongly believe that tradition is an important component of family life, science, possibly government, religion, and all that crap, I believe that the world of aesthetics deserves a little bit more tradition-breaking than it typically gets.
Hot Fuzz also broke tradition in the way it dealt with relationships between the characters. If Danny and Nicholas were written into one of our typical comedy serials, I can guarantee you that some 50% of the comedy would come from everybody thinking they're gay. It's happened in Psych, Supernatural, The Office, The IT Crowd, and probably other shows that I'm not thinking of at the moment. I wish I had a nickel for every time I've wanted to shout at the TV, "IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE A ROMANCE--REGULAR FRIENDSHIPS EXIST TOO, YA KNOW." I never shouted that at Hot Fuzz. To be fair, I never shouted it at anything else either, because I don't shout, but that's something I'm trying to work on.
There's an episode of The Dick van Dyke Show where Ritchie has a "take your father to school day" and Rob has to explain to a room full of six-year-olds how to be funny (season 1, episode 23. I think). I disremember the actual quote, and amazon prime won't let me watch the episode to find it out, but basically what Rob said was that people laugh at things that were unexpected. The opposite can be true, too. I think the best fun I had watching Supernatural (season 4, whichever episode is called "On the Head of a Pin") was when the demon of interest said "Go directly to hell," and I thought "do not pass 'Go,' do not collect $200,' and then just after I thought it, he said, "do not pass 'Go,' do not collect $200." I don't know if this was funny because of the coincidence or because I was just tickled that my thought was something considered funny by professional writers who were trying to be funny on purpose.
That's not to say there's a "right way" to be amused. You can have whatever sense of humor you happen to have. It's just that mine is a scrupulous, analytical, calculating brain which has to analyze everything that's not bolted to the floor, and when my gut likes something, my brain has to think up every conceivable argument for why I'm allowed to go with my gut. So, if I've shouted at you for not liking a thing as much as I do, it's because my brain has worked very, very hard to justify my gut and it is now overly sensitive on the subject, and I apologize.
That's all I've got to say about that.
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