Little Bit O’ Drama

Note: Here is a short exercise from my Creative Writing class, which I decided to turn into a small scene.

Setting: Kitchen of a suburban home.

Enter Tom and Bernice, a married couple. 

Tom (taking fish out of the oven): Tonight we’re having muscadet with our haddock, sound good, dear?

Bernice (seated at the kitchen table): What the hell is muscadet?

Tom: It’s a red wine, a little salty; I know how you don’t like things that are too sweet.

Bernice (bristling): I never said that. I like sweet things just fine.

Tom: But you never eat my lemon cake.

Bernice: That’s because your lemon cake is disgusting.

Tom (timidly): That’s not very nice.

Bernice: Make better lemon cake, then.

Tom: Here, just try the haddock, one little bite.

Bernice: I can smell it just fine from here, thanks.

Tom: Dear, what was the point in marrying me, a chef at a three and a half star restaurant, if you won’t even eat my food?

Bernice: If I’d have known your food was so bad I wouldn’t have married you.

Everything Carries the Same Weight

In coordinative style, or parataxis, everything carries the same weight. Every bit of information in the sentence is parallel. While each little piece is not absolutely necessary for the sentence to function in a base way, they are additive and carry the same importance and purpose. A good example of an author who uses this style, one of my favorites, is Ernest Hemingway. I chose to analyze his sentence structure, picking a sentence from The Old Man and the Sea, the novel written by Hemingway while in Cuba and published in 1952. Here’s the sentence I chose to dissect (the first sentence in the quote below), taken from the end of the novel, after the old man had returned from his taxing journey on the water, back to his home and back to the boy:

He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, nor of great fish, nor fights, nor contests of strength, nor of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out at the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on.

Wow. Breathe that in, that slow, timely building of the story. That’s what it is; Hemingway tells the story of the old man and of the sea in that first sentence. He is a carpenter, driving in screws to hold together the house. He is an artist, putting down deliberate brush strokes of contrasting color, highlighting the brighter picture. Each thing the old man used to dream of is right there, the storms, great occurrences, great fish that pull him along over the sea for days as he holds tight to the fishing rod and his hands crack and blister and bleed, fighting to be stronger than the fish, man beats beast. With one carefully crafted sentence, Hemingway tells you a story of an old man, one who is tired, and one who has seen much in his long life. Using the word “nor” he adds each element to the sentence. Other words can do this, to create this heavy list – words like “and”, “or”, maybe even “so” in some circumstances. In this example, I think choosing the word “nor” was a fantastic choice. Hemingway says “he no longer dreamed.” Using “nor” repeatedly holds the point that the old man has changed. He no longer dreams of those things; he only dreams of warm places he hasn’t been and the big cats in Africa.

Puttin’ On the Ritz: Sentences Edition

A good example of hypotaxis, or subordination, would be the following quote from Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre, written in 1847 :

If all the world hated you and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends.

This sentence is so powerful because it defines exactly what Jane feels, and what she struggles with throughout the novel. Love of the self and self-confidence, self-assurance, are fairly prevalent ideas in the novel. This sentence expresses those exact sentiments.

So let’s digest what Brontë does rather than says, let’s see if we can describe how she constructs this important sentence. The sentence is an “if, then” statement. It is a causality form of subordination. Arranging the sentence in a simpler format, it would read “If all the world hated you, while your own conscience approved of you, you would not be without friends.”  What I thought of when I read this quote from the Victorian Era novel was another quote by Oscar Wilde: “To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.” This is also a “if, then” or, more accurately, a “cause, effect” statement, but a less complex sentence. Brontë arranges the actions just so, stating if one thing happens, while this thing is happening, then this other thing will happen. That’s confusing, I know. Let me be clearer. Brontë starts off with a hypothetical situation, laying it all out before you like a possible evening gown. “If all the world hated you and believed you wicked…” Alright, so there is your dress, possibly what you will wear, but maybe the gold one in the wardrobe would look better with your hair. It hasn’t got any bells and whistles yet, though. Just the dress, just a possibility of what you will don for the evening. So let’s try for some accessories. “…while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt…” The ribbon tied around your waist would look nice, and a matching one for your hair. Maybe this outfit really could work. “…you would not be without friends.” Slipping on the shoes, you find that, yes, this is the perfect dress, this is the one you’ll wear tonight and dazzle everyone with your self-confidence and honed heel-walking abilities. Like the contemplating of an outfit and arranging the elements in a certain manner, Brontë creates her sentence. She follows the cause and effect model, starting off with a hypothetical situation, throwing in some clarifying information, and ends with the conclusion that draws her point to a close.

Come to Your Senses!

I recently became interested in senses. What I mean is, conveying sensory details in writing. I noticed a great many writers, including myself, focus a lot on what is seen, what lies before their eyes. I want to know more about a setting; what about the other senses?
Consider the following setting I came up with: The harbor was a cluster of boats, all bobbing delicately as the wind rippled across the water. Peter saw a single white gull fight through the breeze, beating its wings in determination, to land shakily on the top of a sail. He leaned against the stone wall and looked at the barnacles clinging to the rocks at the waterline.
This isn’t bad description, but all I’ve said is what Peter sees. Does he smell the briny ocean water, or perhaps the fumes floating by from a seafood joint? Does he feel the wind ruffle his hair, does he feel goosebumps popping up on his arms from the cold? Does he touch the stone wall and feel the bumps of the rock? Does he taste anything? Does he hear anything, like the wind, the waves, the bird?
My favorite sense to read about is sound. I love sound. Sound defines a setting – there could be cars rushing by, there could be the trickling of water, the could be the scratching of a pencil against paper, there could be the clicking of the keyboard. I’ve just described where I am right now, in my friends dorm room, right above a parking lot, with the window open. Her roommate’s got a fish tank with a filter. My other friend is beside me on the bed, finishing up her art project.
Here is a great example, from Ernest Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls, of sound, sight, and touch/feeling: “He saw nothing and heard nothing but he could feel his heart pounding and then he heard the clack on stone and the leaping, dropping clicks of a small rock falling.”
Another example from literature is J.K.Rowling’s character Dolores Umbridge from the Harry Potter series. Fans of the books will know that Umbridge’s sickly sweet little “hem hem” cough means she’s about to make an interjection, no doubt saying something to stir up trouble.
Onomatopoeias are a great literary device. You can make a character say something with the sounds they make. Like exclaiming “aha!”, usually something someone shouts in a triumphant moment. The website writtensound.com has a huge list of all types of onomatopoeias, some really interesting ones I’ve never heard of, too. So go check it out! And write what you feel, what you see, what you taste, what you smell, and what you hear!

Passing the Time with Passive Verbs

I realized today that I use the passive voice too much. The passive voice, according to the dictionary.com definition, is a verb that acts on the subject of the sentence. Here’s an example of the passive voice: The cow was chewing cud.
And here’s an example of the passive voice from my own writing (a piece of fiction I’ve been tossing around): Sometimes he is walking, and he thinks of just walking, going and going until he is gone and his feet are blistered and bleeding, because, hell, there’s got to be something better out there, something he is missing.
See, I use the passive voice too often. I’ve used it four times in one sentence! It isn’t forbidden or taboo to use the passive voice, but I use it frequently, and it makes my writing too informal and repetitive, and, frankly, just boring. So I decided to go back and edit great chunks of my work to make it sound better, read well. It’s not only the verbs that need changing, but I focused on that the last time I went and edited.
The active voice, according to the dictionary.com definition, is when “the subject is doing the acting.” Here’s an example of the active voice: The cow chewed cud.
And here’s my edited work, fixing the verbs to be written in the active voice: Sometimes he walks, and thinks of just walking, going and going until he is gone and blisters and spots of blood cover his feet, because, hell, something better must wait for him out there, something he misses.
Well, now, that is not much better than what I had before. The passive voice isn’t awful, again; you can use it as much as you want. I found that I used it all the time, so I tried just using the active voice. But just picking one doesn’t come off as well as using a mixture of both. Through this editing exercise, I learned that there are certain instances that require one voice. Neither voice is better. There are appropriate times to use both, and being a good writer means being able to identify those situations and pick the right voice. Maybe someday I’ll be fluent in grammar enough to be able to write correctly on command, letting my words flow forth easily and without much need for research and revision. But for now I need to go back and revisit my mistakes and correct them in order to achieve my own distinct and creative style.

Know Stuff

“Know stuff,” my AP Language and Style teacher told us on the first day of class, warily and wearily eyeing our class, which, up until that moment, slumped in desks, in a mindless state of last-period bliss. We sat up, jerking out of the collective torpor, glancing around at each other with bemused looks.
One kid timidly raised his hand. “What kind of stuff, Mrs. K?”
She turned her eyes on him, narrowing them in that fear-inducing way she always did. “Just know stuff.”
Throughout that year, I began to understand her. She meant that we needed to understand references from a wide range of sources, we needed to be educated and well-versed members of our community. Know stuff. Don’t be ignorant. Mrs. K, though terrifying and strict at times, was a fantastic English teacher, and she pushed me to try harder, to learn as much as I could about everything I could. I think one of my favorite feelings is reading something, identifying a reference, and then understanding that reference, without having to go and look it up. This happened to me today, in my course focusing on British literature. Currently we’re reading Othello, and I’ve been repeating the name Iago in my mind for days. I knew I had heard it before, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Anyway, today we read act 3, scene 3. Othello asks Iago if Cassio is not honest. Iago replies with “Honest, my lord?” This banter continues (“Indeed?” “Thinking, my lord?”), Iago parroting Othello’s words back at him in the form of a question. Parroting. There it was. I remembered why that name was so familiar. In Disney’s Aladdin Jafar’s parrot is named Iago. As a kid, I watched those movies over and over and I never got where the name Iago came from. But by reading more, learning more, simple knowing stuff, one can understand references like this.

I Say, “Said, My Friend, Is Dead.”

Have you heard the word? Said is dead.
The verb “to say” is essential in the English language. It’s essential for all writers, fiction and non-fiction (yet my examples are, and my main focus is, pertaining to fiction). “To say” indicates dialogue, indicates that someone is speaking. But, alas, the word has become over used. That is not to imply that one should never use “said”, however. I’m simply suggesting that there are other, more expressive, more stylistically effective ways of saying “said.” Take this example, a line from J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Return of the King:
“His love for Frodo rose above all other thoughts, and forgetting his peril he cried aloud: ‘I’m coming Mr. Frodo!'”
What if Tolkien had written “His love for Frodo rose above all other thoughts, and forgetting his peril he said aloud: ‘I’m coming Mr. Frodo!'”
That doesn’t sound as expressive, as emotional. Using the word “cried”, the author is able to imply the serious, heart-felt love and devotion Sam has for Frodo. Using the word “cried” makes me picture Sam leaping up from his sorrowful state, crying out with fervor, “I’m coming Mr. Frodo!”
Here, take another example, this time from Ian McEwan’s Atonement:
“’I know you never liked that sort of thing, Cee. But how else do you become a doctor?’
‘That’s my point. Another six years. Why do it?’
He wasn’t offended. She was the one who was overinterpreting, and jittery in his presence, and she was annoyed with herself.
He was taking her question seriously. ‘No one’s really going to give me work as a landscape gardener. I don’t want to teach, or go in for the civil service. And medicine interests me … ‘ He broke off as a thought occurred to him. ‘Look, I’ve agreed to pay your father back. That’s the arrangement.’
‘That’s not what I meant at all.’”
Here the author doesn’t use any verbs to indicate the characters are speaking. Yet we know exactly who is talking, because of the words they say. The first line spoken is from Robbie. We know this because he uses Cecilia’s nickname, Cee, when speaking to her. And we don’t need to know that Cecilia spoke the next line, because it’s obvious, since they are the only two at the fountain. Another clever tactic McEwan employs is describing the characters’ actions before and after they speak. Look at the paragraph beginning with “He was taking her question seriously.” It’s clear the he is Robbie, because, once again, we know Robbie and Cecilia are the only two in the direct conversation. The line that follows is Robbie’s dialogue. We know it’s his because McEwan has already drawn attention to Robbie’s actions.
Once more McEwan indicates the character’s speech pattern without actually using “said” or a derivation of it. He writes: “He broke off as a thought occurred to him.” This line transitions from each of Robbie’s lines, indicating that he breaks off from one thought, as another occurs and he says it out loud.
There are many ways to say “said” without actually saying “said.” There are other words for it, more specific, descriptive words that indicate feeling, like Tolkien’s use of “cried”. Here’s a helpful chart I came across that inspired this post:

But you don’t always need words to say “said”. Like McEwan, you can indicate who is speaking through use of names, use of action, by specific speech patterns, etc.
Here are some examples for saying “said” without actually saying “said” I came up with:
1. Use of names.
Rachel and Kelly walk along, under the yellow light of the lampposts, two best friends arm in arm in the empty, twilit street.
“Look at the stars, Kell. Aren’t they beautiful?”
2. Use of action.
In the desperate scramble, the photograph slips from Charles’ wallet, fluttering to the floor.
Pietro snatches it up in one quick movement, holding it closer to his face to see. “Where did you get this?”
3. By specific speech patterns.
James’ Scottish lilt tends to come out in desperate circumstances, like when he’s angry, terribly sad. Or like now, when he’s horribly drunk. “Ah know; but just a wee bit more.”

Personal Writing: An Online Culture Encouraging Self-Expression

I’ve already expressed my interest for the social media site Tumblr. The great thing about it is that people can express themselves in anyway they want by blogging. I use my Tumblr blog mostly for writing, creative, personal writing. Self-expression. In my Love and Marriage class, my professor and I were discussing how self-expression was a rare happening in the Renaissance, especially for women. We read a diary entry called “The birthe of all my children” by Frances Matthew. She had six entries, each detailing the birth date and death date of each of her six children. Each entry illustrated the time of the child’s birth, the people present at the birth, and then the time of death – it was not uncommon for children to die soon after birth, looking back at the medical advancements of the time. She expressed no sentiment, even in her own personal diary, the purpose of a diary being the most secret and expressive place to write about whatever one wants. We talked in class about how different people are today from then. When I was younger, for example, I had diaries I wrote in every day. (Shamefully I admit this, for my entries were childish, going along the lines of “Mary was SO mad at me today, oh my gosh!” and “LOL Ian is so cute xoxo smiley face kiss kiss.” Needless to say I destroyed the evidence.) But then there is the internet. The beautiful thing about Tumblr, and many other social media sites, is that you need not give your identity if you don’t want to. You come up with a username, and that’s essentially all you need to start blogging. Many people express themselves freely, not having to worry about social convention or fitting in, because nobody really knows or cares who you are anyway. Writing is a way to vent, to lament, to express. And on the internet you can share your feelings with people, people who sometimes feel the same way and respond to you because of your writing. Here is one of my personal writing pieces, an observation I made one day: “If you spend too much time trapped in your own head, you start to lose sense of what is real and what is not, of what is morally right and morally wrong, of what it is to feel the comfort of another person’s hand or lips on your cheek. You lose sense of yourself, in a way, because people are molded by their peers, their surroundings. And if you are alone, who will help you become something? No one – that is the answer. No one will make you into a human being, decent or indecent; you will simply be a collection of gears and cogs and whirligigs, destined to either keep ticking or fold in on yourself until you are nothing but a pile of dust and rusty metal and the clockmaker has to come in and clean your mess off his desk so he can start from scratch.” I like the fact that I have a place to go to write what I feel, to use self-expression in my writing. People say the internet had destroyed contemporary writing. I don’t think that’s true. I agree it has changed the style of writing, yes, and sometimes not for the better. But the internet, sites like Tumblr, are open, mostly friendly places where people of all shapes and sizes, people with all sorts of feelings and all sorts of writing styles, can freely express themselves. And that, in of itself, is a beautiful thing.

The Art of Text Posts on Tumblr

Text posts on Tumblr are probably my favorite things in the world. For any who don’t know, Tumblr is a social media site where people can share opinions, thoughts, artwork, anything with the rest of the internet. The best text posts are witty, pithy little remarks that users post on their blogs. Here are a few examples:

The funniest text posts are relatable, something normal, everyday people can connect with. A common style of text posts, and writing on the internet in general, is dropping capitalization and punctuation, or adding capitalization and extra punctuation to achieve a certain tone. For comedic effect, people often intentionally misspell words.

Most often these text posts are short, written and stylized for humor. Puns, as seen above, are common, as well as relatable, every day humor. Some of my personal favorites are awkward moments people share with each other:

Exuent: Pursued By Style

Paragraph or section breaks are like stage directions to me. Perhaps that’s because I have currently been reading too much drama – this interest sparked by my course in Readings in British Literature or Love and Marriage, taught by Professor Brinda Charry. You start off a paragraph or section of prose by introducing it – act one, scene one. All the information allotted to that one spot is mashed together because it has at least one common theme running throughout. And then, once you finish that one point, or once your writing gets to be too much to go on with, you start a new thought. [Exit previous point.]
I see a scene in drama as a paragraph or a section. And at the end of the scene, when all’s said and done, you need an exit to start off a new scene.
I guess I’m not entirely sure what I’m trying to get at; just, if you must go away with anything, go with this: you need a good break.