Word to your mothers. I have more creative writing stylinz for you. Click the link below to read a short story I wrote named 'Croatan.' It's a bit blue, and has a sexytime scene in it later on, so if you're not a fan of ill advised sexual encounters you better not click it. You better not. Seriously. Srsly.
Croatan
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1M0ICbaGITMLSiZJ32PvgODAmNB3yJxv4ySPR2ptaujs/edit
Updated only when you aren't looking.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Friday, 18 May 2012
Friday, 27 April 2012
Story (get it while it lasts): Milk / I do things
Despite my lengthening periods of absence from Verbal Slapstick I have still been doing vaguely creative things. Firstly, my grass-roots interview project London I's moves (slowly) forward. Having a full-time job negatively impacts on how often I can harass people in the street, but it ticks along. Go and have a look, and like me on facebook whynot.
I've also had an opportunity to put some non-fiction stuff on Notes from the Underground, a truly excellent creative portal. My sincere thanks to Annabel Howard for giving me the chance; hopefully I'll be able to submit some more soon. Have a poke around and you'll find me.
Finally, here's a short story I wrote. It's not very long, so I'll stick it on here rather than Google Doc'ing it. Also if you want to read it I'd suggest doing it now, as I might submit it for publication at some point and will have to remove it. Whether or not uploading it here counts as 'previous publication' is tricky, but hopefully any future editors will allow all 5 of my followers reading it first. Although to be on the safe side, please Mr/Miss/Mrs Future Editor, don't throw the book at me.
Poor Verbal Slapstick. I feel like I've been neglecting the ol' girl recently. But you haven't seen the last of me yet.
**Author's note**
I should probably state first: yes, Joey Crane is the guy I mentioned in the post before this, no, I don't fancy him.
**EDIT**
I took the story down, but you can always message me if you want to read it.
**Author's note**
I should probably state first: yes, Joey Crane is the guy I mentioned in the post before this, no, I don't fancy him.
**EDIT**
I took the story down, but you can always message me if you want to read it.
Thursday, 2 February 2012
Doppler
Hello! It's been a little while, but I have not been resting on my laurels. Well, I have actually, but I've managed to do at least a couple of creative things since I was last here. To whit: a short story! It's called Doppler, and it was inspired a bit by the creepy bus station outside my house, and mostly by Bret Easton Ellis. Einstein said that genius was knowing how to hide your sources, so I guess I blew that one. Genius is overrated anyway. Einstein knew that.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/11O-Y477wej9aRGs9-h9v36pQDSGu7FFNDssttRLR_KA/edit
Please comment if you have an opinion. Stuff the email, just comment on this post. I have more stuff for you to look at next week. Peace.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/11O-Y477wej9aRGs9-h9v36pQDSGu7FFNDssttRLR_KA/edit
Please comment if you have an opinion. Stuff the email, just comment on this post. I have more stuff for you to look at next week. Peace.
Tuesday, 29 November 2011
Writer's... um...
Every writer writes about writer’s block at some point. In fact, I’m fairly sure I’ve started several blog posts in this manner (possibly with that same opening sentence, I do love alliteration), only to put them aside either until ‘proper’ inspiration struck, or because I felt the idea seemed trite or overdone. As I’ve said, every writer mentions it at some point (even if it’s only to say they don’t ever suffer from it, the smug paranormal-romance writing bastards).
I suppose I’m persisting with it now because I don’t really have writer’s block at the moment. For the time being, work on the novel has slowed, and I’m starting to enter the next phase: finding someone who likes it enough to represent me. It’s a frankly petrifying move, as every rejection (not many so far, but mounting) feels like a simple and solid reason to abandon the project that has consumed eighteen months of my life, taken me out of a settled existence surrounded by friends; into a place I hardly know and where no one knows me, and left me an embarrassing stretch behind other recent graduates in trying to find employment.
So the novel suffers not from writer’s block but rather writer’s paralysis. Until I find some feedback, any sort of feedback, I know not what to do with it. It can become this or it can become that, dependent on the whim and will of an agent or a publisher or the public or my friends and family. I’m confident in my writing. It’s my only talent and I have worked hard at it. If I might be allowed to bluster a moment: it’s better than Verbal Slapstick. These blog posts take roughly an hour or less, and are edited perhaps once before I upload them (this may explain why they are littered with typographical errors).
My book is in part a labour of love, and inverted, a test of skill. If someone tells me how to make it better, I am positive I can do so. I just don’t know how (which is sort of the kicker, no matter how you look at it).
A dear friend and successful author has what I believe to be the most sensible and generally successful solution for writer’s block: write around it. It doesn’t matter what you turn to, even if it’s something away from your primary project. Just getting words on paper or on screen can be enough to start the creative juices flowing (a metaphor I am unable to source, and somewhat weirded out by).
More than that, writer’s block can be just that: and obstacle to be skirted, flanked, outmanoeuvred. Some things are difficult to write about. Some things are boring to write about. Some things are challenging to write about in a way that makes sense, or is compelling, or isn’t a little cringe-worthy. Every writer has things that they personally struggle with. I don’t write sex scenes because I can’t (please don’t make any inferences here). It’s just too hard (that’s what she said). So if I feel I have to have a sex scene (and sometimes you just do) I have to find a way to write around it without looking like I’m writing around it. It’s a time-consuming and messy process (much like sex).
Another quite well-known writer of my recent acquaintance told me a good story about his own experience leapfrogging writer’s block. Finding himself completely stymied while trying to write a scene set in a sea-side cafe during winter, and finding it more a problem of atmosphere rather than description, he decided to take himself to a similar cafe and grab some photographs. Jumping on the train to some depressing sea resort he wandered around until he found a cafe comparable to the one in his imaginings, had a cup of tea and snapped some photos. He got them developed on the way home and pinned them up around his writing desk. And did not look at them once. Although he had not been paying special attention to the cafe his was in (his idea was to get the photos and be home as soon as possible, before the urge to write at all disappeared) something about the place had apparently seeped in – the look or the smell or the sad tiredness of it all – and swilled around in his head so that he returned to his desk fully equipped to carry on. Writer’s block can be defeated by ‘physical’ means: action can be taken.
You can read your way around it. This sounds like an intellectual way of saying ‘steal things from other writers’ and it sort of is, but there’s nothing malicious behind it (or at least there shouldn’t be). Stephen King said that if you don’t read then you lack the tools to write and I think that goes beyond an aphorism into straight-up profundity. Words are your tools and your building material at the same time, your clay and your wood and your chisel and saw and pencil and granite and and dynamite. The more examples, combinations, permutations you are exposed to, the more ideas you have to draw on. And I don’t mean simply by facsimile. There’s an arborescence to writing: every new word you learn, or new context you experience, increases the number of viable word-links you can make. And because of the profligate manner in which words can be joined (especially English words, the slags) the number of links increases immensely with each piece of inducted knowledge. You are constrained only by the rules of grammar (which can be bent) and those of style (which can be broken).
Finally, you just have to keep going. I have no internet connection right now, so I cannot say with authority which writer described writing as ‘staring at a blank piece of paper until your forehead bleeds’ (or something along those lines), but that is often what it feels like. Writing when it isn’t coming easy can be tortuously hard. It’s less fun than almost everything else there is to do in your house, up to and including de-scaling the kettle. But if you go away and leave it when it’s hard, chances are it will still be hard when you return (that’s what she said. I’m so sorry). It might be better to creep, creep your way across the screen, checking your word count (wisely removed from the hotkeys and appearing at the bottom of the screen on Word 2007) every few seconds, writing and deleting, writing and deleting, a frustrating arduous slog up a literary hill until... until the difficult part is over, or what you’ve written leads naturally to something else, or while you’re thinking of a way to tell this bit, you figure out how to tell that bit, or (and this happens more than one might like, but is necessary), you realise that you’re fighting a pointless battle, and you may as well chuck this whole section and start again a bit further back but with a better idea.
Writer’s block is a problem with creativity. Ergo, in order to beat it, all one has to do is create. Quality can follow on. So I don't know what to do with the book. Better start thinking about the next one.
It occurs that perhaps I should have saved writing this post for a time when I actually have writer’s block. Oops. Bit of a plus for my flatmates though: that kettle’s going to be sparkling at some point.
I suppose I’m persisting with it now because I don’t really have writer’s block at the moment. For the time being, work on the novel has slowed, and I’m starting to enter the next phase: finding someone who likes it enough to represent me. It’s a frankly petrifying move, as every rejection (not many so far, but mounting) feels like a simple and solid reason to abandon the project that has consumed eighteen months of my life, taken me out of a settled existence surrounded by friends; into a place I hardly know and where no one knows me, and left me an embarrassing stretch behind other recent graduates in trying to find employment.
So the novel suffers not from writer’s block but rather writer’s paralysis. Until I find some feedback, any sort of feedback, I know not what to do with it. It can become this or it can become that, dependent on the whim and will of an agent or a publisher or the public or my friends and family. I’m confident in my writing. It’s my only talent and I have worked hard at it. If I might be allowed to bluster a moment: it’s better than Verbal Slapstick. These blog posts take roughly an hour or less, and are edited perhaps once before I upload them (this may explain why they are littered with typographical errors).
My book is in part a labour of love, and inverted, a test of skill. If someone tells me how to make it better, I am positive I can do so. I just don’t know how (which is sort of the kicker, no matter how you look at it).
A dear friend and successful author has what I believe to be the most sensible and generally successful solution for writer’s block: write around it. It doesn’t matter what you turn to, even if it’s something away from your primary project. Just getting words on paper or on screen can be enough to start the creative juices flowing (a metaphor I am unable to source, and somewhat weirded out by).
More than that, writer’s block can be just that: and obstacle to be skirted, flanked, outmanoeuvred. Some things are difficult to write about. Some things are boring to write about. Some things are challenging to write about in a way that makes sense, or is compelling, or isn’t a little cringe-worthy. Every writer has things that they personally struggle with. I don’t write sex scenes because I can’t (please don’t make any inferences here). It’s just too hard (that’s what she said). So if I feel I have to have a sex scene (and sometimes you just do) I have to find a way to write around it without looking like I’m writing around it. It’s a time-consuming and messy process (much like sex).
Another quite well-known writer of my recent acquaintance told me a good story about his own experience leapfrogging writer’s block. Finding himself completely stymied while trying to write a scene set in a sea-side cafe during winter, and finding it more a problem of atmosphere rather than description, he decided to take himself to a similar cafe and grab some photographs. Jumping on the train to some depressing sea resort he wandered around until he found a cafe comparable to the one in his imaginings, had a cup of tea and snapped some photos. He got them developed on the way home and pinned them up around his writing desk. And did not look at them once. Although he had not been paying special attention to the cafe his was in (his idea was to get the photos and be home as soon as possible, before the urge to write at all disappeared) something about the place had apparently seeped in – the look or the smell or the sad tiredness of it all – and swilled around in his head so that he returned to his desk fully equipped to carry on. Writer’s block can be defeated by ‘physical’ means: action can be taken.
You can read your way around it. This sounds like an intellectual way of saying ‘steal things from other writers’ and it sort of is, but there’s nothing malicious behind it (or at least there shouldn’t be). Stephen King said that if you don’t read then you lack the tools to write and I think that goes beyond an aphorism into straight-up profundity. Words are your tools and your building material at the same time, your clay and your wood and your chisel and saw and pencil and granite and and dynamite. The more examples, combinations, permutations you are exposed to, the more ideas you have to draw on. And I don’t mean simply by facsimile. There’s an arborescence to writing: every new word you learn, or new context you experience, increases the number of viable word-links you can make. And because of the profligate manner in which words can be joined (especially English words, the slags) the number of links increases immensely with each piece of inducted knowledge. You are constrained only by the rules of grammar (which can be bent) and those of style (which can be broken).
Finally, you just have to keep going. I have no internet connection right now, so I cannot say with authority which writer described writing as ‘staring at a blank piece of paper until your forehead bleeds’ (or something along those lines), but that is often what it feels like. Writing when it isn’t coming easy can be tortuously hard. It’s less fun than almost everything else there is to do in your house, up to and including de-scaling the kettle. But if you go away and leave it when it’s hard, chances are it will still be hard when you return (that’s what she said. I’m so sorry). It might be better to creep, creep your way across the screen, checking your word count (wisely removed from the hotkeys and appearing at the bottom of the screen on Word 2007) every few seconds, writing and deleting, writing and deleting, a frustrating arduous slog up a literary hill until... until the difficult part is over, or what you’ve written leads naturally to something else, or while you’re thinking of a way to tell this bit, you figure out how to tell that bit, or (and this happens more than one might like, but is necessary), you realise that you’re fighting a pointless battle, and you may as well chuck this whole section and start again a bit further back but with a better idea.
Writer’s block is a problem with creativity. Ergo, in order to beat it, all one has to do is create. Quality can follow on. So I don't know what to do with the book. Better start thinking about the next one.
It occurs that perhaps I should have saved writing this post for a time when I actually have writer’s block. Oops. Bit of a plus for my flatmates though: that kettle’s going to be sparkling at some point.
Saturday, 9 October 2010
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
Anchorage
I haven't posted a story on here in a while, and seeing as that is certainly one of the functions of this blog I suppose it's high time. Therefore...
It's quite short, I ran it off on a wet afternoon in the coffee shop. Any thoughts to verbalslapstick@gmail.com. Hope you enjoy it.
It's quite short, I ran it off on a wet afternoon in the coffee shop. Any thoughts to verbalslapstick@gmail.com. Hope you enjoy it.
Monday, 16 November 2009
Annulus
Here's a story for your delectation. It's called 'Annulus' and it's about... actually I have no idea what it's about. It's got a bit of sex in though. Thoughts to verbalslapstick@gmail.com. Enjoy!
http://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=0AZC6fkPHcTeWZDRicnZjMl8xaGtoc2ZoaGM&hl=en
http://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=0AZC6fkPHcTeWZDRicnZjMl8xaGtoc2ZoaGM&hl=en
Monday, 26 October 2009
flaw
We partly define our reality by its flaws, by its inconsistencies and their effect on our own suffering. As we struggle for satisfaction and fulfilment, it seems obvious that the hurdles on the way to said satisfaction should be part of the framework we use to measure truth and what is real.
Remember in The Matrix where Smith tells Neo about the first matrix construct, in which reality was designed to simulate humanity’s idea of perfection? The people held within the construct could not process a reality that filled their every want, and their minds rejected it, leading to their death. (If you don’t remember the scene you could always go and watch it, but to be honest I’ve pretty much spoiled it for you now.)
This is an extreme example of the cliché ‘too good to be true.’ Something or someone who appears too close to accepted ideas about perfection is deemed suspicious, potentially false. An offer or transaction without a sense of balance, without some caveat of loss to weigh against the gain, is rendered fundamentally suspect.
Obviously this concept extends to our attempts to render reality. When we create a facsimile of the real it has to include facsimile faults, or something appears… off. Fictional characters need fictional flaws to be convincing, unless their perfection is a conceptual part of the story. My buddy Nash has, as always, explored this concept to humorous effect. Man, I hate that guy.
Flaws need not refer solely to character points. A good old-fashioned injury might easily suffice, at least in part. If you read the introductory chapters of several novels in a row you’ll see what I’m talking about, everyone has a wine coloured birthmark on the back of their neck, or a scar on their chin from falling through a screen door, a slight crook in their finger where they got it caught in a bike chain, different coloured eyes after a head injury as a toddler. Or a… never mind, you can see what I’m driving at.
It’s a good start because physical injuries are easy to envision in comparison to other, less palpable flaws. Readers have a tougher time understanding and relating to, say, a slowly developing inferiority complex than a gammy eye or a chin scar. Unfortunately the need for verisimilitude extends beyond facial disfigurements. In fact, many of us do have a slowly developing inferiority complex or something equally baffling, and so creating a rounded fictional character means taking a swing at that as well.
There are a few easy ways out of this requirement. This first is to include a personality flaw that is the mental equivalent of a physical injury- one that is easily graspable and has effects that are immediately obvious. These faults are often most obvious in genre fiction, where a character can be as much a plot solving device as they are dynamic creations in their own right. For example, several famous fictional detectives have foibles that are easily explained and can be consistently transplanted from one tale to the next. In most cases these fatal flaws are nothing more than vaguely antisocial vices: alcoholism, drug use etc. Huh, I think I just referred to alcoholism as a ‘vaguely antisocial’ phenomenon, I’m sorry about that. But in most cases the problems faced by Rebus, Holmes et al are not the socially crippling addictions and psychological problems faced by proper people. Phillip Marlowe drank too much fine scotch while playing chess- he never woke up in a bus station covered in his own sick.
The second way to create believable characters with believable flaws is to simply pick one that seems truthful or relevant and then tell the reader as much.
“Johnny was a handsome twenty five year old with a creeping inferiority complex and a scar in his eyebrow left from when he had ploughed through a glass coffee table as a toddler.”
That covers all the bases, but it feels a little forced, doesn’t it? Well actually I made sure that paragraph sucked to prove a point, and because I’m a horrible human being, but I think the theory stands.
If you attend a creative writing class for any length of time, someone will eventually bring out the old favourite: ‘show don’t tell.’ This refers to the belief that good writing does not rely on telling the reader what is happening, telling them what to think, what conclusions to draw. Instead good writing should simply describe, show the reader what is happening, and if the quality of the prose is high enough then your intention might shine through.
So in order to provide a plausible demonstration of a character’s flaws, a writer has to rely on their actions. If your protagonist is a stifling egomaniac then he’ll have to act like one. Or more importantly, if you WANT your protagonist to BE a stifling egomaniac then you’ll have to MAKE him act like one. On the other hand, if you keep making your character act like a stifling egomaniac then that is how the reader will see him, regardless of what you intended.
So really there are no flaws, only flawed actions. A bit like real life, which obviously is what we’re trying to emulate. To be honest, I forget what I was going for here. I’m a forgetful guy. As I just demonstrated, hey wait, THAT was it.
Remember in The Matrix where Smith tells Neo about the first matrix construct, in which reality was designed to simulate humanity’s idea of perfection? The people held within the construct could not process a reality that filled their every want, and their minds rejected it, leading to their death. (If you don’t remember the scene you could always go and watch it, but to be honest I’ve pretty much spoiled it for you now.)
This is an extreme example of the cliché ‘too good to be true.’ Something or someone who appears too close to accepted ideas about perfection is deemed suspicious, potentially false. An offer or transaction without a sense of balance, without some caveat of loss to weigh against the gain, is rendered fundamentally suspect.
Obviously this concept extends to our attempts to render reality. When we create a facsimile of the real it has to include facsimile faults, or something appears… off. Fictional characters need fictional flaws to be convincing, unless their perfection is a conceptual part of the story. My buddy Nash has, as always, explored this concept to humorous effect. Man, I hate that guy.
Flaws need not refer solely to character points. A good old-fashioned injury might easily suffice, at least in part. If you read the introductory chapters of several novels in a row you’ll see what I’m talking about, everyone has a wine coloured birthmark on the back of their neck, or a scar on their chin from falling through a screen door, a slight crook in their finger where they got it caught in a bike chain, different coloured eyes after a head injury as a toddler. Or a… never mind, you can see what I’m driving at.
It’s a good start because physical injuries are easy to envision in comparison to other, less palpable flaws. Readers have a tougher time understanding and relating to, say, a slowly developing inferiority complex than a gammy eye or a chin scar. Unfortunately the need for verisimilitude extends beyond facial disfigurements. In fact, many of us do have a slowly developing inferiority complex or something equally baffling, and so creating a rounded fictional character means taking a swing at that as well.
There are a few easy ways out of this requirement. This first is to include a personality flaw that is the mental equivalent of a physical injury- one that is easily graspable and has effects that are immediately obvious. These faults are often most obvious in genre fiction, where a character can be as much a plot solving device as they are dynamic creations in their own right. For example, several famous fictional detectives have foibles that are easily explained and can be consistently transplanted from one tale to the next. In most cases these fatal flaws are nothing more than vaguely antisocial vices: alcoholism, drug use etc. Huh, I think I just referred to alcoholism as a ‘vaguely antisocial’ phenomenon, I’m sorry about that. But in most cases the problems faced by Rebus, Holmes et al are not the socially crippling addictions and psychological problems faced by proper people. Phillip Marlowe drank too much fine scotch while playing chess- he never woke up in a bus station covered in his own sick.
The second way to create believable characters with believable flaws is to simply pick one that seems truthful or relevant and then tell the reader as much.
“Johnny was a handsome twenty five year old with a creeping inferiority complex and a scar in his eyebrow left from when he had ploughed through a glass coffee table as a toddler.”
That covers all the bases, but it feels a little forced, doesn’t it? Well actually I made sure that paragraph sucked to prove a point, and because I’m a horrible human being, but I think the theory stands.
If you attend a creative writing class for any length of time, someone will eventually bring out the old favourite: ‘show don’t tell.’ This refers to the belief that good writing does not rely on telling the reader what is happening, telling them what to think, what conclusions to draw. Instead good writing should simply describe, show the reader what is happening, and if the quality of the prose is high enough then your intention might shine through.
So in order to provide a plausible demonstration of a character’s flaws, a writer has to rely on their actions. If your protagonist is a stifling egomaniac then he’ll have to act like one. Or more importantly, if you WANT your protagonist to BE a stifling egomaniac then you’ll have to MAKE him act like one. On the other hand, if you keep making your character act like a stifling egomaniac then that is how the reader will see him, regardless of what you intended.
So really there are no flaws, only flawed actions. A bit like real life, which obviously is what we’re trying to emulate. To be honest, I forget what I was going for here. I’m a forgetful guy. As I just demonstrated, hey wait, THAT was it.
Sunday, 11 October 2009
Story: 'Crossroads'
A new short story which can be found at:
http://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=0AZMsaF3qj2kKZG01a25rNV8xZnJzOXI4Z2Q&hl=en
It's called 'Crossroads.' If you liked the last one I wrote then.. well, actually this one is nothing like the previous one. So, if you hated 'The Stooge,' maybe you should give it a try. If you like my stuff- or pretend to like my stuff because you're a good friend and that's what good friends do (and your constant support is much appreciated, don't ever change), then give it a go too.
I tried to make it a bit... actually, creepy is too strong a word, I didn't really get what I was going for. Still, it's a little different from stuff I've done before.
Same deal as before, double space it to make it easier to read. You could even print the damn thing if you feel like it, as it's only a few thousand words, which works out at about six pages.
Any comments can be addressed to verbalslapstick@googlemail.com. I promise this email address works correctly this time, I fluffed the original one by spelling it incorrectly.
Thank you to anyone that reads it, and thank you to everyone that stops by here. You're all smashing people.
http://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=0AZMsaF3qj2kKZG01a25rNV8xZnJzOXI4Z2Q&hl=en
It's called 'Crossroads.' If you liked the last one I wrote then.. well, actually this one is nothing like the previous one. So, if you hated 'The Stooge,' maybe you should give it a try. If you like my stuff- or pretend to like my stuff because you're a good friend and that's what good friends do (and your constant support is much appreciated, don't ever change), then give it a go too.
I tried to make it a bit... actually, creepy is too strong a word, I didn't really get what I was going for. Still, it's a little different from stuff I've done before.
Same deal as before, double space it to make it easier to read. You could even print the damn thing if you feel like it, as it's only a few thousand words, which works out at about six pages.
Any comments can be addressed to verbalslapstick@googlemail.com. I promise this email address works correctly this time, I fluffed the original one by spelling it incorrectly.
Thank you to anyone that reads it, and thank you to everyone that stops by here. You're all smashing people.
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