So, uh, help me out here.

[Jintor]

I need an idea.

A really friggin' Artsy idea.

I've left this kinda late, but I need to write an 8000 word short story by the end of the year. This one is getting marked. I'm not asking you guys to write it for me or anything, I just need a damn plot hook, or something to start from. I really suck at that sort of thing - I'm a stream of consciousness writer. I'm good at entertaining but not really at getting marks.

Since this is getting marked at school, I need something that teachers will think is good. This means sci-fi and fantasy are right out. Also anything about zombies. That's right out. Sorry, Darkseid.

Anyhow, I was trialing these concepts:

An author with a fear of failure, which we compare/contrast with vertigo-

Something to do with burial rituals (No actual plot was made up... :/)

A comatose girl in a wheelchair by a window


But since it's getting marked, I can't just write shit and make it entertaining. Apparently I need to incorperate ideas into the entire thing and weave it into a cohesive theme, or some shit. So my question is, Helplife2.net... can you help me?

 

[Darkside55]

Thing is, you could write a sci-fi story, or a fantasy, or even a zombie story and get good marks on it--at least, if your teachers are fair. It's not about writing something artsy, it's about taking your story and making it art. A lot of people think that the genre defines the writer, or that stories of a genre must play out a certain way and their depth is limited--contained--to the type of story they're writing. This is false. If you write a story with a good voice, with a good plot and characterization, an interesting setting, and give it the right amount of pace, you can write something that would get marks and praise no matter WHAT you write about.

I once wrote a story that you could consider "artsy": I wrote about a Russian prisoner in a gulag. I wrote about his life, and his family, and the events he struggled with day in, day out in this work camp. I wrote this for a grade, and I got excellent marks on it. Yet I will say that it was not the SUBJECT I wrote about that got me marks, but the way in which I wrote it. It was the characterization, and the struggle, and all the elements of it as a whole that made it good, not because it was a deep subject to tackle. I could write you something deep about fighting zombies too.

So just letting you know, if you have fair teachers you could write about anything and get good marks on it as long as it's written well. That's the key. The key is transcending your genre. Always keep this in mind if you're a writer. Always, always think that way, that's your mindset. Take it from me that's one of those "THIS IS INVALUABLE INFORMATION" kinds of things.

 

[ríomhaire]

Idea I had before but probably has been done many times before:
A British soldier during WW2 (actually, it was a fictional world and war but pretty much the same) who's married to a German woman adn lived in her home town for years. Has to struggle through the war fighting his wife's people (and being the only one of his commrades that can understand their cries of pain) and things like ending up taking his brother in law as a POW. He eventually has a breakdown when he ends up in his wife's home town.

 

[Jintor]

So just letting you know, if you have fair teachers you could write about anything and get good marks on it as long as it's written well. That's the key. The key is transcending your genre. Always keep this in mind if you're a writer. Always, always think that way, that's your mindset. Take it from me that's one of those "THIS IS INVALUABLE INFORMATION" kinds of things.

I know what you're saying... I really liked my initial idea of 'transcending a fear of failure' and throughout the story comparing/contrasting it through the author's unwritten book, which would be about vertigo... and sort of comparing and contrasting that fear of failure with the fear of heights, maybe? But the problem was aside from that initial concept I had no idea how to take the idea...

 

[Sulkdodds]

I can help you. But not now cos I'm tired.

Random provisional advice: ask questions and create dynamics. If you too firmly i]answer[/i] questions and resolve dynamics, you run the risk of being didactic.

You have an entire year to do this? That's brilliant. Do you have time for a reading list?

This is a good one. And anything with the name 'Terry Eagleton' on it is probably gold. Studying literature is, I think, useful for writing literature - because it gives you a greater command over the vocabulary of ideas and their rhythms. Not that theory is essential, but there are some people who might tell you it's useless, all this obfuscating conjecture, but it's not, because I'm pretty sure no artist worth a damn ever got anywhere without thinking about what he was doing, and that principle, extended, means considering what people have already publically thought. Of course, going too far might not be necessary. I mean, what level of education are you at? They're not expecting you to be Shakespeare, I presume.

But it won't work too well to strain to think of something significant. Insights and inspirations will come upon you suddenly. Then is the time of conscious work, the thrash out with concentrated thought the specifics of your movements. But for now: what dynamics interest you, and why?

 

[Jintor]

I'm honestly thinking of doing something to do with Anonymous, the Stand Alone Complex, Identity and loss. May or may not be cyberpunk, I'm not sure at this point. Can anybody talk of texts with themes of identity, loss of identity, empowerment through that loss of identity or adoption of a new persona, etc?

 

[Sulkdodds]

For a textbook look at the evolution of character, and of identity, first read a Dickens novel (eg Hard Times) and then read Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. Might want to pick up some Cambridge notes on both the books you read.

I'll think of more later

 

[Ennui]

Thing is, you could write a sci-fi story, or a fantasy, or even a zombie story and get good marks on it--at least, if your teachers are fair. It's not about writing something artsy, it's about taking your story and making it art. A lot of people think that the genre defines the writer, or that stories of a genre must play out a certain way and their depth is limited--contained--to the type of story they're writing. This is false. If you write a story with a good voice, with a good plot and characterization, an interesting setting, and give it the right amount of pace, you can write something that would get marks and praise no matter WHAT you write about.

I once wrote a story that you could consider "artsy": I wrote about a Russian prisoner in a gulag. I wrote about his life, and his family, and the events he struggled with day in, day out in this work camp. I wrote this for a grade, and I got excellent marks on it. Yet I will say that it was not the SUBJECT I wrote about that got me marks, but the way in which I wrote it. It was the characterization, and the struggle, and all the elements of it as a whole that made it good, not because it was a deep subject to tackle. I could write you something deep about fighting zombies too.

So just letting you know, if you have fair teachers you could write about anything and get good marks on it as long as it's written well. That's the key. The key is transcending your genre. Always keep this in mind if you're a writer. Always, always think that way, that's your mindset. Take it from me that's one of those "THIS IS INVALUABLE INFORMATION" kinds of things.

You didn't call your story "One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovitch" perchance, did you?

 

[Druckles]

I read an awesome fan fiction once. I managed to find it with a quick Google, and it is indeed still quite epic. But as Darkside said, it is indeed the reading that makes it so good. I don't think it's quite the full story, but it's vaguely based off events from Half-Life and it's had quite some media, and a bit of bad publicity, but to no consequence.

I'm not too sure who the author is, but it can be found here.

Hope that helps.

 

[Darkside55]

You didn't call your story "One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovitch" perchance, did you?

Oh, you've read it?

No, similar subject matter, but different. Actually I don't remember what the heck I called it...maybe I'll delve through my closetfull of papers later and find out what it was titled. Only title to anything I've written for coursework that I remember is, "The Black Lung Vice." It was about a smoker.

 

[Emporius]

You mentioning an author sprung a little idea into my head. It isn't very artsy or sophisticated, but hear me out. Something about an author whose writing comes to life, but in a negative way. Not in the general 'pop out of the book' mindset, but with the ideals and settings in his novels. However, he can find no other line of work, his family is starving, and he desperately needs monjey, so he must write. In doing so he is slowly driven mad by his own guilt and frustration, further fueling the monstrosities he releases upon the world. And you need to end something with him preparing to wriote his final book, with a title that hints towards the second world war or whatnot.

That's my shitty idea, I hope it helps.

edit: eejit just reminded me, this should be in like the thirties or twenties. The Deppression could be linked to it too.

 

[Eejit]

And then John was a zombie.


If you know enough about history you could set it in another period, which is often refreshing. Like the Renaissance, Ancient Greece, Napoleonic Wars etc.

 

[Sulkdodds]

I just remembered!

Jintor, here are two very useful books.

First, and most useful, The Art of Fiction by David Lodge. This goes through 50 different phenomena in the novel, speaking clearly, eloquently and in-depth about each one. It starts with 'beginning' and ends with 'ending' and it's deep yet understandable/lucid. The best thing is that in discussing so many techniques, and citing so many novels, it will suggest to you intriguing lines of investigation, and lead you to other books and novels you might never have looked at otherwise.

Second, and still good, is The Language Poets Use by Winifred Nowottny. It's a pretty systematic breakdown of linguistic and metaphorical devices, and what makes that useful is that if you think about it you can apply such analysis to most of the tools that Lodge discusses in his book; most methods of metaphor can be, in the end, metaphors for other methods. (I haven't read this one right through, but made notes on a couple chapters this week for uni work)

Hope those help. You can look them up on amazon.

 

[Ennui]

Oh, you've read it?

No, similar subject matter, but different. Actually I don't remember what the heck I called it...maybe I'll delve through my closetfull of papers later and find out what it was titled. Only title to anything I've written for coursework that I remember is, "The Black Lung Vice." It was about a smoker.

Oh, cool. Well if you'll excuse me it's time for my morning cigarette...

/walks away coughing

 

[Jintor]

Thanks Sulk, I'll get right on those two.

I'm still looking for books with a theme about Identity and Anonymity.

/EDIT Emporious, that is a ****ing awesome idea. If this anonymous thing all goes to shit, I'll know what to do next.

 

[Jintor]

Right, here's what I've got so far. (Formatting is going to be terrible because of delicious CopyPasta.

She thought of herself as a wordsmith, because she liked the image it brought up in people’s minds; in truth, however, she was simply a writer. A wordsmith sounded like a person who hammered words together in a shower of sparks, forging inelegant but brutally efficient phrases with which to subjugate opposing ideas. A writer presented the image of someone who had the skill to do something like that, but chose not to. There were better ways.

Currently, within the comfort of her own head, she is attempting to chart the course of a new character of hers; introduction, complication, climax, resolution. Or perhaps introduction, minor complication, resolution, major complication, climax, resolution? But then where would she put the other? Introduce the other characters, concoct a wonderful plot to suck the readers into a whirlpool of story and ideas they’ll never escape. That’s the plan. Oh, such a wonderful plan.

The problem with Rose (for that is, in fact, her name, though not her given one) is that she’s easily distracted. And that she has a bad memory. Not bad like a bucket with a hole in it, everything constantly leaking out, drip by drip; bad like an overflowing bathtub, the taps on, full force, and the water rising, spilling out onto the tiles. In fact, problem two is closely tied to problem one; if everything, literally everything, didn’t inspire her, then she’d be able to keep her thoughts safe in her skull until she found the chance to offload them onto paper. It’s a blessing and a curse, really, inspiration.

As it stands, Rose has been able to concentrate on this particular line of thought for quite some time. Too long. A part of her hindbrain, the part that sits in the back of her head and makes snarky comments, is already anticipating a major, or possibly minor, distraction. It’s quite right to do so, this hindbrain of hers. The vehicle slows down, the rumbling of the engine changes subtly, and Rose finds her train of thought derailing quite neatly as a whole bunch of new passengers board the bus.

Damnit, she curses silently, realising she had already begun to eye the passengers, scrambling for her pen and her notebook. She can’t lose this idea! She can’t! She’s already lost far too many ideas, brilliant ones, she knew they were; unwilling or unable to put pen to paper at the time, the thoughts had probably fled to somebody who would. Hurriedly scribbling down what she could gather of her thoughts -

- Death, Maybe, Burial, Rememberance, Chinese Girl, Grandfather –

- before they escaped. Ideas are fleeting; catch them while you can. It’s something she learned by herself, something she hadn’t been taught. The best, most sure-fire way of learning? Oh, look, her hindbrain whispered. You’ve gotten distracted again already.

Thoughts scatter, disappear into the ether; she can only recall bits and pieces. She half-heartedly scrawls the few thoughts she can find-

- Ancestors, Reincarnation (?), Necropolis – the Necropolis of Hold -

- because inspiration, the divine spark, has likewise fled, and so has her enthusiasm. She finds a shadow looming over her, and looks up, annoyed.

It’s like looking into a second sun.




He’s tall, and he’d be dark if it weren’t for an accident of birth, his flaming mop of red hair (and in a good light, like this one, he’s fairly handsome too, non? Oh, she can’t help but finish the clich?…). He’s looking down at her, and she’s looking up at him, and their eyes meet, just for a second.

He turns away first. Is That Seat Free? he mutters, avoiding her eyes. Yes, Go Ahead, she replies, not taking her eyes off the boy. Rose knows she shouldn’t be staring, but she can’t seem to stop; he notices her watching him, and treats her to what was probably meant to be a dazzling smile, but it merely comes off as a bit nervous.

He asks, So What School Do You Go To?

She blushes, replies. Um. [Insert Schoolname Here]… You Know? It’s Just A Few Stops Down.

Oh, he says, relaxing his expression. He really gives of a sort of nervous aura, she thinks to herself; shoulders droop, posture weakens, you can almost see the self-doubt in his eyes. That’s Just A Little Down From My School, he continues.

Really?

Yes.

He’s thinking. Are You In Year Twelve, Then?, he asks.

She blushes again. Why is she blushing? She can’t help it. (So that’s what it feels like, her hindbrain mutters. It’s a terrible thing to have, a deadpan snarker in the back of your own head.) Year Eleven, Actually, she says. Blushing.

The boy can’t seem to look directly at her, for more than a second. It’s a little annoying, but in some ways, it’s cute. The bus’s engines make a different noise, slow, stop, lurches back into high gear; neither of them notice it. They’re lost in conversation. They’ve found a common theme.

Creativity.

He’s an artist, she learns quickly. HSC this year, major work. Lots of time to use, lots of time already gone. He advises her not to muck around, get stuff done early, because it will surely count for something in the long run. She, for her part, tells him about writing, and how it’s really freaking annoying, and about how the ideas won’t stop coming. He laughs, shrugs a little, relaxes even more. He knows the feeling.

The engines stop their roaring for the fifth time in as many minutes, and rumble to a stop, or its low, bass-thumping equivalent. Rose takes a habitual glance out the window and starts. It’s her stop. She frantically grabs her bag, rises, swivels round the pole and out into the corridor all at the same time; the boy rises, stands, moves out of her way, tries to help her. He can’t. The girl’s gone, already at the door of the bus, throwing back a single last glance back at the boy and his (brown? Blue? Green? No, it was blue, definitely) eyes, before stepping out onto the curb. The bus pulls away. She stares after it, fancying, that, just for a moment, she sees him staring back.

It’s not until nearly an hour later that she realises she has no name to match his face.




Ian sits back down again, watching the girl with the black hair and the white shirt through the window as the bus pulls away from the curb. He’s a little startled, a little dreamy, a little excited. Something new has happened to him in the last five minutes, something new and amazing and urgent. Not that he hasn’t felt it before, but…

Well, this time it’s new again.

 

[Darkside55]

The way its written does a lot to illustrate how Rose thinks. I'm a bit put off by the tense; first paragraph was set up in a way that I assumed it was going to be written in past tense, so the second paragraph felt jarring. Present tense narrated in the third person is...well, it isn't bad, just different.

How many words is that already? It's off to a good start. There are some really minor grammatical things but I won't bother mentioning them all to you (I have to bring up "taps on," though; you're missing the apostrophe), but word choice and flow of the story's fine. Don't quite care about--or for--the characters right now, but I'll watch for updates.

 

[Sulkdodds]

i LIKE THIS. i HAVE er, I have comments (ah, phew) and I keep having to remind myself to comment profoundly on this here story but never quite getting round to it.