|
Canada10904 Posts
Another very important thing that needs to always be in your mind when writing is the mechanic of "Show, don't tell." This is very very important, because if it seems like you're just info-dumping (rambling on about facts that you want your reader to know, by telling them in exposition), the reader won't enjoy it nearly as much as they would if you actually showed those facts through your characters and/or their adventures. The one thing about Show, Don't Tell is it can be over applied. It is very important, but one thing I found is it is very easy to go into movie mode where you have to show absolutely everything. The problem I ran into was more and more PoV storylines which made the overall story feel very scattered. Especially once I started adding in one-off PoV scenes because I needed to show rather than drop the information subtely through an existing PoV.
|
On April 14 2012 05:25 Falling wrote:Show nested quote +Another very important thing that needs to always be in your mind when writing is the mechanic of "Show, don't tell." This is very very important, because if it seems like you're just info-dumping (rambling on about facts that you want your reader to know, by telling them in exposition), the reader won't enjoy it nearly as much as they would if you actually showed those facts through your characters and/or their adventures. The one thing about Show, Don't Tell is it can be over applied. It is very important, but one thing I found is it is very easy to go into movie mode where you have to show absolutely everything. The problem I ran into was more and more PoV storylines which made the overall story feel very scattered. Especially once I started adding in one-off PoV scenes because I needed to show rather than drop the information subtely through an existing PoV.
This is very true. I feel the way to get around this, at least what I do, is I only write what's relevant to the story at the time. Yes, I'll add a few sprinkles of details in, but nothing too obtuse or unnecessary. It also helps that I'm writing in Third Person Limited, so most of the information my reader gets comes directly from my main character, rather than the setting around him.
All of this is very important, but the simplest way I understand to get your story across is to make it seem like the reader is receiving the same stimuli that your character is. So it's all just very basic. For example: I'll let the town crier shout out the news, just as my MC is passing by, he'll hear it and the information will be passed. No need to go into the view of the town crier. Or I'll write about a smell, but only if I feel like it has something to do with the situation at hand. If it doesn't, then why bother with the words.
I think it's all about what's relevant to the story at every given moment. Since the story is always moving at a "NOW" pace, it's always necessary to keep your reader informed with just enough that they keep reading, to find out more.
What I see difficult with multiple PoV storylines, like you mentioned, is that they do get scattered and it's very hard to keep everything in track. Eventually, one ends up with a whole mess of words with a story buried underneath it. Although some writers do use the multiple PoV style, it's very hard to pull off naturally. Those who do it well though can tell quite the tale.
|
"Show, don't tell" is probably one of the most misunderstood and overused writing dictums. It's not necessarily about infodumping, per se, or about POV, it's about doing the reader's work for them. On a really basic level: "I can't believe you told him that," she said, angrily <---- is telling. Her brow furrowed. "I can't believe you told him that." <---- is showing.
EDIT: It may be worth noting that everybody infodumps - the key is to do it in the least intrusive, most elegant way possible (or, if you're Scott Lynch, just throw it out there with enough style and charisma and you could get away with it, though a lot of people complained about that narrative-tour-guide technique, so your mileage may vary).
|
Not sure if this is the place for this, but... A poem: By myself
Grenade
We lay in silent watchfulness along that gun pocked hill a momentary pause in time at last the war was still
And while we waited on that ground all wreathed in cannon smoke: our muscles tense, our hearts were full but not a word we spoke
Then sudden forth in hero charge came strong the bitter foe They found that we had dug in deep; they could not make us go
In minutes we had routed them but as they turned around the last of them looked back at us and in his pocket found
a little fruit encased in steel the taste of which is death grenade in hand he pulled the pin we all drew one last breath
We watched in silent agony as it flew through the air I looked about at sky and clouds and thought them strangely fair
I spent a while in memory of these men by my side and thought that with no other men would I have rather died
Each man thought then of those he knew and each took one last glance then sudden came the springing thought: to give them one last chance!
I shot a last departing prayer to Him that lives above and then I dove on that grenade to give myself in love
And just before I felt the blast, that strange, all cutting knife I looked into the eyes of those to whom I gave my life
In each the promise to himself a better life to lead my dying thought in blinding light: their thanks is all I need
|
Brilliant poem, Mr. John___Galt. Two thumbs up!
This passage was my favorite.
Each man thought then of those he knew and each took one last glance then sudden came the springing thought: to give them one last chance!
Also when I was reading your poem, I couldn't help but feel that same feeling when I was reading the Red Badge of Courage for the first time way back in 4th grade, thanks for bringing back that memory.
|
On April 14 2012 05:25 Falling wrote:+ Show Spoiler +Another very important thing that needs to always be in your mind when writing is the mechanic of "Show, don't tell." This is very very important, because if it seems like you're just info-dumping (rambling on about facts that you want your reader to know, by telling them in exposition), the reader won't enjoy it nearly as much as they would if you actually showed those facts through your characters and/or their adventures. The one thing about Show, Don't Tell is it can be over applied. It is very important, but one thing I found is it is very easy to go into movie mode where you have to show absolutely everything. The problem I ran into was more and more PoV storylines which made the overall story feel very scattered. Especially once I started adding in one-off PoV scenes because I needed to show rather than drop the information subtely through an existing PoV. I think this is a brilliant point and I love the term ‘movie mode’.
I find that, in the type of situation you are describing, structure is incredibly important. You need have a well thought out structure, to keep sufficient focus on a manageable number of limited points of view. If you don’t have a solid structure in place and know your ending, your story can turn into a snakes wedding or fizzle out to unrelated nothing.
Movie mode stories can generate tremendous excitement and momentum if you have sufficient characters and story beats to keep the reader interested in each sequence as you shift point of view, and particularly if these sequences flow together/ interact in interesting ways, especially as the story culminates.
|
+ Show Spoiler +Liquid'Ret X EGDemuslim short by:Shiina Mafuyu Disclaimer: Fanfictions are Fictional
A response to this http://www.teamliquid.net/forum/viewmessage.php?topic_id=313004The restless night began in the Team Liquid house when Demuslim came over to have practice games with Ret. A game of TvZ between these to is nothing less than an art itself. The passion put into the game were inhuman, as if the game had a life of its own. The units were as if they were a part of their perspective gamer's body itself. It was a wonderful sight to behold. The game started out slow, but it wasn't completely devoid of action, both player poked at each other quite often almost as a lion would before slaying its prey. Soon enough Ret was at the door steps of Demuslim's third. Staring down the barrels of the siege tanks. Big and strong they were, a Terran's marine tank army, it was fearsome and dominating. But something like that cannot hold Ret back, Ret's hand quickened as his units surged foward. them armies clashed as their breathing quickened. Sweat dripping off their foreheads as they wrestled with each other for control. Demuslim moved his hands quickly and proficiently to split his marines away from the banelings. Just as Ret has taught him before, Demuslim thinks about the time that Ret held his hand on the mouse as he walked through on the way to do a Marine split, his face reddened as his movement became slightly flustered. Ret seeing this opening had his banelings surge forward in the might of a tidal wave and cleared out Demuslim's forces as well as his third. Even wise Ret's hold tightening Demuslim held, unyieldingly he held his natural with all his might. But the pressure of Ret's play was immense. He was playing as if he was being pushed down by a monstrous beast. Ret's attack soon came crashing down on Demuslim's iron defense with the might of a great Spear thrust. But Demuslim held, his iron wall was not to be broken. But soon after another attack came, and then another, Each attack came with increasing intensity. The breathing of the player intensified even more as they focused even harder. Finally a great lance of Zerg unit come charging down. Demuslim, unable to hold this final wave, is pushed down by Ret's immense pressure. The zerg forces pierced through Demuslim's Iron Curtain of Tanks and Walls and Marines and surged forward like Hot burning Lava erupting from an ancient volcano, annihilating everything in their path. Exhausted Demsulim falls back on to his chair with the gg, trying to catch his breath. and then he sees at the bottom of his screen LiquidRet: well played And so in the practice room sits DeMusliM, the British progamer sighed as he stared in to the defeat score screen. "Why couldn't I win?" DeMusliM thought to himself. "Finally it was my chance to show Ret how good I am." He wanted to prove himself in front of Ret. He wanted Ret to praise him for doing well, but that's not what happened at all, he couldn't concentrate all because of that split second when Ret's face came in to his mind which led him to losing so badly, at this thought he clenched his fist tightly in frustration. Then he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. "That was a good game" DeMusliM turned around and there was Ret behind him. "Sorry that you had to see me lose like that" DeMusliM said as he flushed red he looked down, Demuslim felt terrible, he wanted to show Ret what he could do. That he was someone who was worth mentoring, but instead he didn't show much at all. DeMusliM was utterly disappointed in himself, he thought of all the things he could've done to prevent the loss but what's done is done, the game was over, DeMusliM wanted to run away from his loss, run away to the ladder that he stood triumphant on top of, He wanted to play a game and show Ret that he is really worthy of being his apprentice. DeMusliM inched his mouse towards the Find Match button to continue his practice, but Ret put his hand on top of DeMusliM's mouse and stopped him. the strange gesture of intimacy made DeMusliM's heart skip a beat, It wasn't anything unusual, but Ret's charisma is something that catches DeMusliM off guard every time. "Not at all, you win some you lose some. Let's go over the game together." Ret said to him as he leaned forward towards the screen and clicked to view replay button. His face is so close! DeMuslim thought to himself. For reasons that he didn't know, his heart also started beating faster. Even though Ret started to analyze the replay for him. DeMusliM's attention was fully occupied by other distractions. Ret, whose face was just inches away from Demuslim's was fully focused on the game replay meanwhile, Demuslim was distracted just by how close Ret was to him at that moment he zoned out just about everything Ret was saying the only thing meaningful to him was seeing Ret's charismatic face analyzing the replay and his serious complexion filled with seriousness that exceed the normal emotions that were expressed by a teacher and a passionate kindness unable to found anywhere else in the world. Ret's attention was fully focused on the replay, but Demuslim couldn't see anything but Ret. Minutes passed by or maybe hours, DeMusliM can't really tell, since the meaning of time itself was already lost. "....and here you could have taken another expansion." Ret paused for a bit, and reached for a water bottle on the desk to quench his thirst. DeMusliM watched as Ret downed the bottle in one go. He looked away and thought, That was an indirect kiss! Even though Ret didn't appear bothered by it, DeMusliM's temperature heated up as his thoughts ran wild and then suddenly he was interrupted. "DeMusliM, are you paying attention?" Ret asked him, DeMusliM was suddenly woken up from his slightly fantastic daydream. Only to find Ret's face right infront of him only inches away. Ret looked deeply into Demuslims eyes, only to see DeMuslim avert his eyes down with a reddened face. "...yes.."DeMusliM answered in a low voice. Ret continued to analyze the game, and DeMusliM looked at his face, how he wish he could play just like Ret, a fearless warrior in the face of Korean progamers. Ret was the star of hope for the foreign scene, DeMusliM thought back to the time when he and Ret first crossed blades in a tournament, that was just a bit too long ago to remember. Even though he was defeated convincingly and had almost lost faith in his abilities, it was then that Ret extended his hand to DeMuslim. "Come with me, let me show you, the path of which I walk." Ever since then DeMusliM has held deep admiration to Ret, but never had he had these awkward feelings. The feeling he had was just too mysterious to describe. It was also a feeling DeMusliM did not understand, and gave him confusion over the situation. "...So in this case you would split you marines like this." Ret explained as he wrapped his hand around that of DeMusliM's on the mouse and slowly moved the mouse in the motion that one would do a marine split. The gentle movement of the mouse with Ret's hand over his, reminded DeMusliM it was not the first time that Ret has taught him like this, but the pure intamcy of Ret's advances made him feverish. DeMuslIM was flushed red and kept his face down. Ret looked at DeMuslim and realized that he was distracted, looking at him and have a almost drunken red tint to his face. "DeMusliM come on pay attention." Ret said as he moved his left arm around DeMusliM's shoulder to fixate Demuslim's attention on himself. But that touch of intimacy was already too much for DeMusliM who has been on the edge the entire time. DeMusliM jerked back unable to take the heat anymore "It's ok isn't it? I'll just win the next game!" The computer chair with Demuslim on it rolled away as he pushed himself away from Ret, Ret paused as DeMuslim's computer chair stalled in to a halt. And then there was silence, but just as fast as it was started, it was soon broken. Ret walked towards him and pulled him up from chair turning DeMusliM and then holds him from behind. "What are you doing?" DeMusliM flustered "That made me a bit excited just now." Ret whispers into his ear. "Hey ... stop..." DeMusliM said as he tried to wiggle his way out of Ret's grip but it was impossible. By now, DeMusliM was feeling quite feverish and Ret's strong hold on him just will not break. leaning in towards his prey, Ret blew gently into DeMusliM's ear, and in an instant DeMusliM's legs lost strength. DeMuslim soon finds himself collapsed on to the floor. Helpless in the face of the aggressive Zerg Progamer's advances, DeMusliM's futile resistance soon falters as he becomes overwhelmed by Ret's strength pinning him down to the floor. Thus DeMusliM and Ret's fantastic and exciting night together began.
|
It took a while to find a definition for reconciliation, and what I found was that it literally meant "to meet again". So here's my story, clocking in at 920 words. + Show Spoiler + Damien awoke in a dark room with a terrible head-ache. He felt a cold hard floor against his face, and lifting it a bit off the ground proved to be incredibly strenuous. What the hell happened to me? Where am I? He didn't have the answers to these questions, but lying down definitely wouldn't help him get them anytime soon.
He tried to get up, but something stopped him. It took him a while to realize that his legs had been tied up at the ankles. Wherever he was, he realized, someone had trapped him here. He still had use of his arms, and felt around for any idea of where he was in the mystery room. As a needle of pain struck him in his head, he raised his hand over to it to find out what was wrong. There was indeed a relatively large bump on the back of his, and his hair seemed to be hard and crusty. Blood had been there for a long time, and had dried.
He didn't know how much time had passed until he heard a steady pattern coming from behind him. Footsteps. Someone was coming. He couldn't turn around so he didn't know what the person who opened the door looked like. “Well, look who's finally awake” came in the voice of a woman. Suddenly the light went on, and he had to close his eyes to shield himself from what he had originally wished for. The woman continued walking until she stood in front of him and then knelt down. He had no idea who she was, but something about her dark brown unkempt hair and bright green eyes seemed familiar. Before he could figure it out though, a kick to his stomach took the wind out of him. Despite how she looked, she was surprisingly strong.
“What, you don't remember me? You don't remember me, begging not to go through with it to your team?” The pain Damien was experiencing didn't help him think about what she was talking about. Who was this woman, and why did her image seem to reside somewhere in the back of his memories? She was not pleased by the lack of an answer. “Damien Allen, you're just like Michael. Neither of you remembered the toys you tossed away when you were about to get caught”. Damien had stopped listening after hearing the name Michael. How did this woman know Michael, or Damien himself for that matter? It dawned on him suddenly. He remembered those innocent green eyes staring back at him from the other side of a thick glass wall. Right before he and his team began the experiment.
“Seems like you finally found those memories you had locked away huh? Let me show you what you did on that day. You never saw the end result before you had to leave it all, did you? Consider this a gift before you die”.
Hair began to grow everywhere, and the beautiful green eyes he had seen began changing to a blood red. Teeth changed to sharp fangs and her whole body grew to an incredible size. The new being which stood in front of him seemed to ooze an aura of fear. The claws which had replaced her nails were pressed up to his face. He felt as if he were about to faint. This was the result of his team's effort all those years... and it was now ready to tear him apart.
Damien somehow managed to get words out of his throat. “You have this power and yet you wish to kill me? If it weren't for us, you'd still be right in that orphanage. All of you would have been. You should be thanking me! We gave you strength, something no one else-” He felt a claw go into his arm and the only sound he could make was a desperate cry. The lack of any water had made his throat dry.
The woman turned beast looked at him with savage eyes. “You took us when we were children, against our will. You turned us into freaks and threw us away when you were about to get caught”. She put a claw at his neck, telling him that it was going to end soon. “This power you speak of doesn't exist; it is merely a curse. This is controlled by our emotions. Anger and fear bring this on, and you should know what that means. Damien, we cannot live normal lives, like we had wanted to. That shouldn't matter at all to you anyways. It's over now”.
The woman slashed at Damien's throat, leaving him gasping. Blood leaked out quickly, and he could feel himself fading away. He could barely feel the pain as slipped into unconsciousness. The woman began reverting back to human form and went back towards the door. As she was about to leave the room, she looked back for an instant. “By the way, Damien. My name is Alyssa. I believe you should know the names of those who's lives you ruined, even if you'll have no use of them”.
Alyssa finally left the room, getting ready for a nice relaxing bath. The others were going to take care of the last two of the ones who had turned into these creatures, and she wanted a bit of rest before people began wondering what had happened to the old man with a past he thought he had destroyed.
Edit: I am okay with getting criticism
|
Hey Dark_Chill
+ Show Spoiler +Your story invoked images of Dolores Claiborne and Hansel and Gretel for me, good job in the details.
I also enjoyed how everything flowed together and was easy to read through.
Keep up the good, work, I'm currently halfway through with my story and will contribute to this weeks writing prompt after I get a good night of sleep.
|
Okay, I wasn't able to participate in the first writing prompt. Started something about Christmas, but inevitably scrapped it. Been doing some other things. A lot of good points have been brought up about "Show, don't tell" and info-dumping. Although, I don't really have the time to flesh out a coherent post about the topic. For now I just wanted to clarify that I didn't mean to say that Info dumping is bad or always do "Show, don't Tell", what I meant to say was that I think it fogs the story when it's done excessively, just pure exposition. But I do definitely believe that you can "Show, not tell" during dialogue <---that's probably the best time. Especially when it's a whole lengthy conversation with a lot of details that you want to portray.
And with that, here's my writing prompt for this week. Didn't really have the time to edit or mess around with it, just finished writing it. Gonna be heading out, let me know what you think. Mild language also. So be wary.
+ Show Spoiler + TL Writing Prompt 2 It's been a day since the boat capsized. I don't know where I'm going, or if I'm ever going to see another human life again. But all is not lost. I have with me what's left of the food rations and the liquor cabinet. I saved what I could of my manuscript; it's in the briefcase, but still in need of some finishing touches. The GPS beacon should be working, oh please dear God let it be working. We'll see tomorrow. The sea is beautiful at night.
Day 2 started with me doing what I already planned to be "the daily ritual", making sure the briefcase was sealed in the waterproof bag. Can't lose that baby. I don't know how I would feel to make it out of this alive but lose her in the process. Well, let's pray I stay sane enough to remember the daily ritual. These oatmeal bars are really good, but not that filling. I am running low on water, but the pages in my manuscript remain untouched. I would've thought that now would be the perfect time to write something. It is awfully hot though. Yea, I blame it on the sun. I'll start writing when I'm not getting blasted by heatwaves. Besides, I have all night. I'm running low on battery life. I just found out that my gadgets won't be entertaining me much longer. Fucking stupid of me not to save the solar charger. That should've been the first thing I reached for. Although in the choice of life vs. charger, I think I chose correctly. Yea, pretty sure life>charger. Definitely made the right choice. Night is here. Thank God for this rechargeable flashlight, but it is a pain in the ass to keep winding it up. In terms of looking at it full spectrum. I've never seen this many stars in my life. Three bottles of water left. Remembered to keep everything safely stored away in the waterproof pack.
It's day three and I feel that writing this down is the only thing keeping me sane right now. I was up since daybreak, ever since that fucking sun shone it ugly head. It's relentless. It's driving me mad, I don't think the liquor helped either. Today was the first and last day I touch that shit. Made me go through one whole bottle of water. Liquor+Water= Urination. Then I remembered this thing I saw on TV once, where some guy was trapped and he was so dehydrated, he drank his own piss to survive. This made me empty out all the liquor bottles. Just in case I needed storage space. By sunset I realized that I rationed out all the substinence wrong. I was greedy and gluttonous. Up until the point where I was down to my last one. It was an oatmeal bar, and I really did save it for last. No way was I going to have a raisin one as my last one. I broke it into fourths. I promised myself one, but succumed to eating two. Left with half a bar. Night brings it's terrors as well. The sea is unruly. I don't know what it wants, but it was having it's way. What's worse is that it started at the shittiest time, just as I was going over my work. I had receded to working on some of the finishing touches, but alas, I had to keep it away. No way was that getting wet. Not one chance. Although the wet look does give some cool effect.
Day 4 and I don't think I'll ever be saved. The beacon doesn't seem to be working, judging from the lack of rescue and I don't know how much longer I have. The sun refused to show it's face today. Probably as punishment for me cursing at it yesterday, even though I apologized profusely. My mind is going. I ran out of water, and running on my survival supply of you know what. The taste is horrid, the worse part is I don't know whether to take sips or gulps to replenish. I try not to think about it. Everytime, that shit goes straight to the spine. Like a bolt of lightning shocking my entire nervous system.
This could be it. The raft is going out of control, wave after wave is hitting us and I don't know how much more it could take. I kept everything up, even my finished manuscript. (Bob, if you read this, make sure to edit the hell out of it. I may have had too many yellow cocktails.)
Time to say my goodbyes.
To Michelle, All I needed was some time, I know you didn't mean to smother me. That made me angry. I didn't run away from you, I wanted to run away from myself, the person I was becoming. Too much money corrupted the soul, and in turn I put a price on everything. I thought this trip would free me from that. I wanted to return to the roots. To who I was when we first met. Me, the young, ambitious author trying to sell his work, and you the pretty lady I met in the printing shop. That's all I've been thinking about for the last few days. How lucky I was that my jet printer ran out of ink. It's funny how life works. You should go out and get love. Find someone for yourself, be happy. And please don't cry. Remember that I'll always be there with you.
Bobby, I am standing behind you right now. Just playing. It was always fun to bust your balls like that though. lol. Although, I have to say, you are an excellent editor. One of the best in the world. But you're an even better friend. *Awwww...* Cue the audience reaction. Remember that time when we drove to the book signing and had to pass that broken ass bridge? You bet that the car couldn't make the jump. Well, what happened? Yea, you still owe me some money. No worries though, if I remember correctly, we used your card. They must've been shocked to see it clanking down the road when the valet returned it. We were long gone by then. Or how about the time you released the skunk into the bookstore when they wouldn't live up to their end, and it cleared out the whole place. I remember hearing that the place never smelled the same again. Enjoy the book. You'll know who you are in there.
To all my family, It's been awhile. So close yet so far away. What I really want to say to you should be arriving there any day now, with my lawyer. I love you all.
So I write this to you, my family and friends. If I don't make it, you should know all is well with my soul. Off we go to see the big guns.
It's been awhile since I've seen the folks. It should be nice.
|
I agree with you dunedain, that too much exposition kills momentum and small chunks usually work best. Show is better than tell (Khaydarin gave a good, succinct example of show vs tell). The show vs tell principle applies at many different levels in a story.
That said, I think there are times when the verbiage on the page vs the point’s story function make it serve the story better just to bang it out there. I think Falling is right, it’s a trade off. There are plenty of great stories that use blatant exposition.
“A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...”
The key to great exposition is to make the reader want it. If the reader feels mystery, and your exposition answers a question that they want answered, you’re succeeding (the Matrix is packed with artfully done exposition that the viewer wants).
There are also tortured attempts at show that have a lot more tell in them than they ought to. Or put another way, just because it’s in dialogue, dost not show make it (though you can often get away with more in dialogue than in narrative). How glaring it is depends on the context... “Eugh.” “What?” “I would have thought that my own brother would know how I like my shark.” Bob turned from the mutilated tail of the shark, his apron streaming with blood. Tom leaned forward, gagging as he spat to empty his mouth. Beads of saliva hung from his lips. A pool of blood and raw shark pieces collected beneath him. Bob raised his butcher’s knife and pointed at Tom. “You’re kidding me. You’re my brother?” Tom looked at Bob. His expression was unreadable. Bob waited for his brother’s words. Tom vomited. A furious stream of foul smelling liquid, laden with shark chunks, spread across the floor. Bob looked down at his brother. Tom sagged on all fours beneath him. He had a brother. This changed everything. Bob turned to the Reader. He lifted his arms wide, blood dripping from his great knife. “Did you get that, Reader? Tom is my brother!”
Everybody does this, at some level. If the reader doesn’t notice, you win.
Alternatively, you could always take the Austin Powers route, and have a character called ‘exposition’!
|
Just finished my story at the 999 word mark, hope someone enjoys!
+ Show Spoiler + A faint signal of noise rattles into Yusuke's left ear, as this time the intrusion lasts a discomforting five seconds. The soft humming alerts Yusuke that THEY are tuning in, listening and streaming into the privacy of his consciousness through their alien frequency.
This sort of strange occurrence happens routinely to Yusuke Ohata as he believes he is a victim of a worldwide global conspiracy. They have forced him into living an isolated hikikomori lifestyle, doomed to be forever trapped alone with his thoughts inside his apartment.
Yusuke's life at the moment is stagnant as it remains at a standstill. He has waisted so much time chasing down all his fears that he now finds himself as a unemployed paranoid thirty year old man that is still living off his parent's monthly allowance for his expenses.
Yusuke currently has no plans on how to get out of his predicament but instead diverts his attention by surfing the internet all day. Its the safest place for a hikikomori like him to escape the cruel reality of facing the unforgiving real world.
The internet and all its anonymity provides a safehaven for this recluse as he spends his days scouring through the vast web for any pertinent information regarding his affliction. Yusuke's goal is simple, he wants to attempt to find that last piece of the puzzle that will help him reconcile his past in order to move forward with his life.
What evil forces in the universe are responsible for conspiring against him while placing him in this everlasting melancholy state? Why does he always feel scorned ridiculed and looked down upon by other people? Where is his desire to make friends, answer his cell phone, or care enough to continue living in this world gone to? Who is Yusuke Ohata, and what is he becoming?
He finds all the answers he has been looking for in the conspiracy section of his favorite site, youtube.com. Apparently during prehistoric times some smart dinosaurs found a way to evolve into shapeshifting lizard men that are currently residing in the fourth dimension of our world. An obscure place that of course is invisible to the human eye and our fives senses.
These reptilians exercise their systematic control over the human race by making mankind follow their evil agenda through any means possible. Television is used as a tool for oppression as it spreads mass fear through the propaganda machine by keeping mankind dull and misinformed.
Everything Yusuke's mind found suspect before is now starting to give credence to the omnipresent conspiracy. He is the victim and now there's someone to point the finger of blame upon for all his problems, shortcomings and failures.
They are the reason that he became a failure of a human being. The uncomfortable nervous shake in his stuttering voice, the ill thoughts that constantly invade his mind, and the general lack of confidence in himself from fear are all their fault.
Are these conspiracy videos, facts or factoids?, Real or fake? The answer doesn't really matter to Yusuke because the videos provide a sense of comfort and security from knowing the answers that he sorely needs.
Yusuke subscribes to all theories, no matter how outlandish, because everything in this world happens for a reason, life after all is one giant conspiracy. The key is to somehow find happiness within the chaos that surrounds us all.
A plan begins to formulate in Yusuke's mind on how to combat the world's oppression. He isn't going to lay dormant and succumb to the conspiracy any longer. He is going to start living his life the way he intends to live it, without fear of consequence from any external outside forces. Although he still can't go outside, the revolution will be broadcast on twitch tv from his room.
He starts up a game of his favorite pass time, Starcraft II, and begins his crusade to be the best, as this is not just any game to him. It's a battle between the good human race (Terran), the bad reptilian race (Zerg), and the ugly over powered (Protoss) race.
The loading screen appears as the matchup between Hata_Yu (Terran) against BrettLarve (Zerg) on Cloud Kingdom begins.
Hata_Yu begins his infamous zerg killing build by starting to wall off his expo, feigning a fast expansion. He trains two marines and sends them off to the normal spot for overlord hunting but finds nothing.
He turns to plan B as he builds a bunker behind the mineral line of his opponents expansion just out of site of the evolving hatchery.
However the Overmind telepathically senses something wrong and sends his second scouting Overlord to the scvs location. Hata_Yu decides to to send the two marines back to the wall giving up map control as four lings force a cancelled bunker and one dead scv.
Yusuke finds himself in a familiar place, turtled up in the confines of his base, giving up map control but he isn't fearful at all, because he has a plan and a specific timing window to exploit.
Hata_Yu's troops lay silent in the shadows, a rag tag bunch of marauders, hellions, two marines, and five repairing scvs as they wait for their stim packs and concussive shells to finish.
A force of two hellions lead the way as they reclaim the towers, alerting BrettLarve to cut drone production and get ready for a little harassment.
The hellions scout out two spine crawlers, four roaches and a queen caught in the act of creep tumor defecation.
The main army begins its death march up Brett's ramp as Yusuke stims and runs his troop forward into battle when suddenly a green window pops up and a timer slowly counts down besides Hata_Yu's name.
At the same time four loud knocks are heard in front of Yusuke's apartment door. His heart beats faster as the seconds count down, Yusuke begins to cry as he hides underneath his desk laying defeated reconciled to his fate.
|
Yo `dunedain
+ Show Spoiler + I read it three times, it was interesting reading your characters thought process, as things got grim. He seemed to get more honest about himself and accepted his fate with no regrets. So I raise a yellow cocktail in his name, may he r.i.p. and cheers to you!
|
On April 17 2012 04:39 TheQuarryman wrote: I agree with you dunedain, that too much exposition kills momentum and small chunks usually work best. Show is better than tell (Khaydarin gave a good, succinct example of show vs tell). The show vs tell principle applies at many different levels in a story.
That said, I think there are times when the verbiage on the page vs the point’s story function make it serve the story better just to bang it out there. I think Falling is right, it’s a trade off. There are plenty of great stories that use blatant exposition.
“A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...”
The key to great exposition is to make the reader want it. If the reader feels mystery, and your exposition answers a question that they want answered, you’re succeeding (the Matrix is packed with artfully done exposition that the viewer wants).
There are also tortured attempts at show that have a lot more tell in them than they ought to. Or put another way, just because it’s in dialogue, dost not show make it (though you can often get away with more in dialogue than in narrative). How glaring it is depends on the context... “Eugh.” “What?” “I would have thought that my own brother would know how I like my shark.” Bob turned from the mutilated tail of the shark, his apron streaming with blood. Tom leaned forward, gagging as he spat to empty his mouth. Beads of saliva hung from his lips. A pool of blood and raw shark pieces collected beneath him. Bob raised his butcher’s knife and pointed at Tom. “You’re kidding me. You’re my brother?” Tom looked at Bob. His expression was unreadable. Bob waited for his brother’s words. Tom vomited. A furious stream of foul smelling liquid, laden with shark chunks, spread across the floor. Bob looked down at his brother. Tom sagged on all fours beneath him. He had a brother. This changed everything. Bob turned to the Reader. He lifted his arms wide, blood dripping from his great knife. “Did you get that, Reader? Tom is my brother!”
Everybody does this, at some level. If the reader doesn’t notice, you win.
Alternatively, you could always take the Austin Powers route, and have a character called ‘exposition’!
I think I also said that the "show don't tell" dictum was not really about exposition ...
I always wondered if the character Esposito on Castle was a reference to the fact that the show - and most shows in its genre - are mostly comprised of character exposition-ing to each other.
|
Hey! `dunedain! I liked you story, it had some cute and clever moments, particularly the one about not wanting raisins in your last meal. If I were to give you a pointer I would say to look out for having too many of the same word too close together. Having two of the word "choice" in adjacent sentences was what leaped out at me the most.
I thought I'd bounce an idea off of you guys while I was at it, I write mostly poetry but I am trying to start on an adventure story. Have you guys got any good techniques for writing characters that are outside of your gender? I am a man trying to write a female lead and I haven't really taken a stab at it before. The male character was supposed to be the lead but I didn't like him as much and he is working his way into a support role. What has been your experience?
|
For me:
exposition – conveying of information show vs tell – establishing story elements by behavior vs narration
The two often interact.
I struggle with shows like that (I like ‘exposition-ing to each other’). I thought the wire did a great job of conveying lots of story by showing (not always, but generally).
The more sensitive my ‘exposition detector’ is on any given day, the more it intrudes on my enjoyment of... well, anything with exposition in it. I wish I could switch it off sometimes.
|
On April 17 2012 18:25 TheQuarryman wrote: For me:
exposition – conveying of information show vs tell – establishing story elements by behavior vs narration
The two often interact.
I struggle with shows like that (I like ‘exposition-ing to each other’). I thought the wire did a great job of conveying lots of story by showing (not always, but generally).
The more sensitive my ‘exposition detector’ is on any given day, the more it intrudes on my enjoyment of... well, anything with exposition in it. I wish I could switch it off sometimes.
"Show don't tell" is about style. Exposition is about plot. They are thematically similar, in that they are about how you "reveal" or describe something, but they are different devices. Exposition is really the one you're talking about when you reference film and television media.
|
On April 17 2012 18:36 khaydarin9 wrote:+ Show Spoiler +On April 17 2012 18:25 TheQuarryman wrote: For me:
exposition – conveying of information show vs tell – establishing story elements by behavior vs narration
The two often interact.
I struggle with shows like that (I like ‘exposition-ing to each other’). I thought the wire did a great job of conveying lots of story by showing (not always, but generally).
The more sensitive my ‘exposition detector’ is on any given day, the more it intrudes on my enjoyment of... well, anything with exposition in it. I wish I could switch it off sometimes. "Show don't tell" is about style. Exposition is about plot. They are thematically similar, in that they are about how you "reveal" or describe something, but they are different devices. Exposition is really the one you're talking about when you reference film and television media. Interesting. I don’t define exposition as about plot. That is too narrow a definition for me. I'm not saying your definition is wrong, I just find it helpful to think of it more broadly.
Exposition can be about setting or historical events (world building). Exposition can be about character (character attributes, history, etc). Information can be conveyed about numerous things. Tolkien has rafts of exposition. Lots of it does not relate to plot.
When Clancy drops in three pages about how a nuclear sub works, or Child relates the performance characteristics of a handgun, this is exposition to me – it is conveying information, and it is nothing to do with plot. Exposition has a stylistic component as well, of course, like these two examples - the authors choose to divert into explanations of how things work at certain points in their stories, where others wouldn't. The plots of these stories would not change one iota if this exposition was omitted.
Show vs tell is a choice a writer makes, wittingly or unwittingly. It has significant stylistic consequences (it has a big impact on the character of the work). It is generally better to show, but there are occasions where it may serve your story better to simply tell.
|
On April 17 2012 16:45 mister.bubbles wrote: Hey! `dunedain! I liked you story, it had some cute and clever moments, particularly the one about not wanting raisins in your last meal. If I were to give you a pointer I would say to look out for having too many of the same word too close together. Having two of the word "choice" in adjacent sentences was what leaped out at me the most.
I thought I'd bounce an idea off of you guys while I was at it, I write mostly poetry but I am trying to start on an adventure story. Have you guys got any good techniques for writing characters that are outside of your gender? I am a man trying to write a female lead and I haven't really taken a stab at it before. The male character was supposed to be the lead but I didn't like him as much and he is working his way into a support role. What has been your experience?
My best advice would be to think of a girl who's personality you actually know and like, then use that while making small changes to make it more what you want. When you have something you're writing about that you know a bit about, things can become much easier
|
I tend to avoid writing about people I know. I find that it becomes much harder to twist those characters and alter them.
It just becomes really hard to change the appearance of a character or his motivations when in the back of your mind, you feel that they are based off a person you know.
Heck, I don't even use names of people I know very well, I already feel that it makes it a pain to visualize the character as fictional.
|
|
|
|