and then...detatched

Detached from his body like this, becoming narrator. Don't make me talk. And that's not me that's not me. Okay, but where's the cutoff point? 

This is called: 2nd person monologue:

So, is it you, then, who is detatched from this scene you are trying to write? Or is it the character you are trying to write about? You write it, trash it, outline it, write it again, trash it, outline, write, trash, outline, let's fix it with something we can't even handle, and then we're in circles sweating over stress. Look at that! Look at it again! You put in a new character--, you broke the rules--, and now you've got to pull up all the narrative and weave it aaaalllll over again just to get him OUT of there!

and CUT

(fade to blue). 

Everything is bloys. blue. i mean boys. everything is blue. Making lists of nouns, subjects, verbs, adjectives, and figures of speech. Just move them around until they match the image you made already. Made, already! Why is it ours? Don't expect my coherence here. Studying consolidated language and short fiction as a QUALITATIVE not QUANTITATIVE measure. 

Onward, then! heavy fur on shouldered men, they are. Tiny weights swing. swing, swing, "upwards into futurity!" 

Thank you, Blake, for the contribution. but I really have got a handle on this now. Boys happen. I write about them. It's quite simple and I've been at it a long time. 

Ropes fray. cut, replace. it is so cold up here. 

and then...mythic

And no time, either. How many times many times times should you tell about a character before you show that character? Be. Careful. You can make them mythic. 

 And character, right, isn't person. It's the essence of person. It's stylistic. Same like dialogue; if you had characters speak exactly like a person would in real life, it's just stupid. So how can you make dialogue realistic? Make it speak to truth. 

Okay, alright. You get an example, so:

 Real life: 

"School is stupid, I hate it. It doesn't make any sense and anyway it's not, like, teaching anything. I'm not really learning."

Dialogue (stylized):

 "School is dull. I want to learn things."

Of course, the nature of the stylization depends on the nature of the character. beck, with

associations

and parallels

and decisions, so, fiction is the most difficult thing to make. It's like guessing an exact combination of one hundred digits. Or one thousand. Yes, probably the latter. 

and then the thing is that this blog is so important to me, it really is, and I'm getting to update it now because of a writer's block (do they exist? I think not until I have one), and it's hard to update otherwise because I'm a full time college student putting in six hours a day to practice writing fiction. Sleep and eat are compromised. That's what comes of that academic system, thar. 

But the muse dances like. We live on IAMX and caffeine. We thank each other. We things smooth, twisting in the dark like. What it is: an enormous trampoline in the dark, with special moving lights and recording cameras attached. Imaginary boys jump and jump and I slow down the footage. I slow it down until it looks like they're praying or screaming or drowning or just the jumping. Mostly, though, they look: flying. 

I bought a smash book. Google it. such a fun thing. Sun rays stretch to reach aspect, my animus. Mostly things are animus. and I take photographs. 

and then...chronology

I've been ill, oh. So the square stayed blank. This week I grappled with an inciting incident; I decided on the event, but there were two ways my character could have handled it. One is active, one is passive. The active option builds on a psychological thesis, but weakens the plot with its set up. The passive option undermines a character motivation that I work so hard to establish, but it makes great use of irony and is more convincing for the plot. Each option has two possible results. Anyway, my explanation is a mess; I sometimes use poker cards to outline possibilities. I took a picture of the poker cards but I can't get it to upload in the correct direction, so I'll just write about the little chronologies I made:

1. Protag (Protagonist) knows his desire-->Protag doesn't succeed on his first opportunity-->Protag gets his desire from his second opportunity
2. Protag knows his desire-->Protag gets his desire on the first opportunity-->Protag, in experiencing his desire, no longer wants it
3. Protag doesn't know what his desire is-->Protag is forced into action-->Protag finds his desire
4. Protag doesn't know what his desire is-->Protag is forced into action-->Protag doesn't get his desire

I discovered an internal logic in this possible chronlogies for my first act:

1. Preserves plot, debases character
2. Debases plot, preserves character
3. Preserves plot, debases character
4. Debases plot, debases character

The fourth option certainly won't work; though my conclusions would change if I stretched my chronologies beyond the first act to make them more general. In this case, I am referring to one particular, concrete desire on the part of the Protag. Unlike many novelists, I don't swear by Card's MICE quotient (Milieu, Idea, Character, Event), but I may need to examine it again in order to make my decision. 

So have you heard Rasputina? I love cellos. I start a fiction master class in April; I'm quite looking forward to it. Practice makes perfection and fun.