What to Write

One of the most difficult parts with starting a new writing project no matter the type is deciding just what to write. NaNoWriMo officially begins in about a day and a half, so I figured today I would write about deciding what to write about. Deep, I know.

Ideas can come from anywhere. Existing works can be a great influence, but accusations of plagiarism can be a frightening concept. The trick with using an existing work as your muse is to treat it as a diving board; an entry way into the pool of possible ideas. What can you do to make the story yours? To take control? It is not even necessary to focus too heavily on making sure your story is different; typically, the more time you spend focusing on making your story different, the more the similarities are highlighted. Go with the flow, and let the story carry you along. To extend the diving board metaphor above, let the ripples carry you forward, but change how you dive in.

This year, my muse came from the radio. Specifically, a single word I heard on the radio while driving to work a few weeks ago. I couldn't tell you if I heard it in a song or on a commercial, but the words "home fire" really stuck out. I believe, though I am not certain, that it was part of a phrase, "Keep the home fires burning." and immediately I started thinking of a story to fit that phrase. The first question I had was: Why? Why do you need to keep the home fire burning? What would happen if the home fire went out? Why is it called a home fire? Is it different from a regular fire? Slowly, I started to figure out the answers.

First of all, what is the difference? Why do you need to specify that it is a home fire? The reason for this distinction, is that the home fire is the portal back home. If the home fire is extinguished, so is the connection to your home. Without the guiding light of that special flame, you are destined to roam, lost, forever. In order for this to make sense, though, the home fire also had to play a role in leaving the home. If you imagine an island, you cannot escape the island without a boat, but you also cannot reach the island without a boat. That left me with the concept that people had to choose to go somewhere, knowing full well that their return relied on the mythical home fire.

In order to make such a decision, the people would need a strong driving force. If they had another option, a safer option, why would they not take it? I saw two options: the destination was so beautiful or wondrous that people just had to see it, or that they had to go there in order to survive, in order for their families to survive. Both possibilities held promise, but ultimately I decided to go with the latter. Forcing people into the situation, rather than having them go by choice, seemed to offer a clearer path for the progression of the story. Ultimately, I decided that the home fire would serve as a portal to a mine, a hellish underworld that held gems and minerals needed on the surface. In order to feed their families, one man from each house would work in the mines every day, bringing up gems and rocks to feed his family. The catch being that every man knew if his lantern of home fire were to be extinguished, he would be stuck in the mines forever. You cannot create new home fire, and you cannot use a fire from somebody else, only the flame that brought you in can take you out.

Obviously, the conflict would involve the main character's fire going out, but what would that mean for him? If a typical man were trapped in a hellish mine, knowing that he had nothing to lose, completely void of hope, what would he do? I'm sure some people would go insane; fight and try to take out as many people as possible. Others would opt for flight; convince themselves that there has to be some escape. Others still would probably just give up and accept the inevitable. But then what would the other miners do? How would they handle seeing their former comrade put into this situation? Ultimately, I decided that the other miners, under instruction from their government, would turn on and kill any miner who loses his way back home. Not all miners agree with this, but they know it is kill or be killed. If you are caught disobeying, you will be the next one executed.

There is a reason the government encourages death, but that will be saved for the story itself.

And there you have it. From a word on the radio, to a brief and basic outline of a potential novel. See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?

November is Coming

Election day. Thanksgiving. And NaNoWriMo.

It is nearly that time again, National Novel Writing Month is just 23 days away, and that means that I need to get prepared for the upcoming writing frenzy. For the uninitiated, NaNoWriMo is a challenge to write a 50,000 word novel in thirty days, from November 1 to November 30. This year will be my sixth year attempting the NaNoWriMo challenge, and alas, it pains me to admit that I have never won.

In 2007, I wrote a fantasy novel that was a prequel to a story I had written in high school. This ended at about 12,000 words and my grades slipped a bit. I got better with my time management and in 2008 reached 17,000 words without a grade slip, but still no victory. 2009 I shifted gears and tried to write a murder mystery. This reached 24,000 words. 2010 I was back to fantasy and hit 32,000 words, then last year I slipped again, back down to about 20,000 words.

NaNoWriMo is run by the same company behind Script Frenzy, which I attempted for the first time last April. This year, I have a large collection of potential plots to choose from. Specifically, I have 5 pages of notes for 23 different story ideas. Some of the ideas have close to a full page outline while others have a mere sentence to describe my thoughts, but they all have potential. The hardest part now is to narrow down my ideas and pick a single story to run with. Most of my ideas are fantasy, as that is what I enjoy the most and am most comfortable writing, but I also have a few supernatural stories, horror stories, and mysteries.

Only time will tell what I run with this year, and time is running out. After all, November is Coming.

NaPoWriMo Day 30 - Dreams

Dreams

Dreams come and go, yarn on the loom
forming a tapestry, a quilt, a story
being told with each thread pulled
from a different stock. Individual
strings are mixed throughout, grand
picture never to be completed, never
fully connecting, waiting forevermore,
waiting for stitches, to be made whole
at last. But when the dreamer awakens
threads are cut, stories are twisted
lost amongst the shadows of daylight,
blankets tossed asunder, care ungiven
to the unformed quilt of lost dreams.

NaPoWriMo Day 29 - The Dunes

The Dunes

A small parking lot sits next to tracks
where trains carry freight and fellows
away from the lakes and the woods,
towards the ever expanding distant city.
I am not on the train, nor following
the tracks, walking instead, between
tracks and trees, under the cackling
power lines. A symphony of both machine
and animal fills the fresh air, smelling
of water and sand, leaves and the faint
hint of train exhaust, mingling throughout.
The path curves, no more tracks or power
lines, a forest erupts around me, a deer
stops nibbling to watch with wary eye
this stranger to his domain, but my steps
carry me past the deer and further, further
through the trees, up the hills, towards
the scent of water, growing stronger,
past the ever changing horizon. The ground
grows soft, sandy, though the trees remain
dense as ever, until they remain no more,
disappeared, as if swallowed by something
unseen and unknown, replaced with mounds
of sand, like drifts of granular snow,
lapping waters making a pristine backdrop.

NaPoWriMo Day 28 - Single Malt Scotch

Single Malt Scotch

All across the college campus, cheap
cans of beer are all the rage, drunk
nights and drunk days, vomit induced
hangovers hosting an eternal party.
Occasionally special occasions arise
and students spring for cheap tequila
or vodka or whiskey to mix their nights
celebrating loss of memory, inhibition,
and the contents of their stomachs.
They cry out in joy, claiming fun times
are theirs for the taking, but I pity
them, never taking the time to sit back
and enjoy the elegantly refined taste
of liquid gold, a single malt scotch.

NaPoWriMo Day 27 - Novelist & Poet

Novelist & Poet

A novelist and a poet walk into a bar,
or rather a coffee shop, with wi-fi,
of course, as is most often the case,
and fight for a seat near the plug
so their laptops can live, allowing
them to build and create word worlds
where everybody can see them, hear
the tics of fast fingers, typing
nothing, the words on the page less
important than the image of a writer,
hard at work creating. God of a world.

NaPoWriMo Day 26 - Bushido

Bushido

It is ingrained, intrinsically known
unuttered and unwritten, yet trained
from birth through sensei's actions.
Honor and morality, no room remaining
for greed or selfishness, a balance
naturally occurring, between souls
animal, plant, and mineral, earthly
scales delicately stacked, a narrow
path, a recipe of success followed
by necessity to the unwritten letter,
the difference between an elegant
masterpiece, surviving through ages,
and an infamous disgrace, a rancid
concoction on history's taste buds.

NaPoWriMo Day 25 - Model Trains

Model Trains

Electric engine, a few cars, caboose
circumnavigating without purpose,
around and around, room revolving
with each subsequent pass, sounds
of cheering children mingle gently
with the tin horn, coming in view.

Days turn to years, track is laid
piece by piece. More cars join
their brothers, and eventually
trains multiply, a simple loop
evolves, an entire metropolis,
the inner child still cheering.

NaPoWriMo Day 24 - The Forge

The Forge

The air is filled to the brim
with a heavy heat, and flashes
of smokey sparks, fireflies
wafting through the tiny room.

Coals of yellow, red, orange
form the centerpiece, a table
serving tempered steel, folded
by learned hands into perfection.

The metal does not glisten, glows
rather, possessed by the rising
sun, symbol of its motherland,
another elegant katana is born.

NaPoWriMo Day 23 - Asphalt Serengeti

Asphalt Serengeti

The varying herds gather and travel
together yet separate. All heading
to different watering holes, a pack
of like-minded animals, metallic skins
of all possible colors, glistening
brightly in the early morning sun.

Large and small alike share the tarred
plains, some running alone, others
packed into tightly knit groups,
practically touching each other
speed dictated by the slowest
of any particular lined bunch.

All across the Asphalt Serengeti
herds form and disperse, randomly
curving and circling around over
and over, returning to their nests
as dusk falls over the plains

NaPoWriMo Day 22 - Papi

Papi

Is a word you introduced to me,
can mean a child or a lover,
but to me it is much more.
A lover and a friend, confidant,
an ally through time itself.
Every plane needs a copilot,
somebody ready and willing
to take the wheel, and guide
through turbulent skies.
You are my papi, my everything,
both the sun and the rain
that help me to grow.

NaPoWriMo Day 21 - Lakes

Lakes

There is something serene
about looking over a lake
and allowing your mind
to wonder around aimlessly
as if a leaf on the gentle
waves, lapping constantly
against the grassy shore.
Letting the lake's motion
soothe your very soul,
as the thunder rolls.

NaPoWriMo Day 20 - Homogeneity

Homogeneity

People always tend to believe
everybody is of the same mold.
Dog people, cat people, people
good with kids, all truly think
that anybody who does not believe
the same as them just needs time.
Time to change, time to adapt,
to experience the joys of kids,
dog, or cat. If you lack belief
in my God, you just need to be told
and once you understand, you will see,
you will join, will accept this truth.
If you do not like getting drunk,
or high, you just need to try once
and then you will understand.

No I won't. Because I am not you,
I am me, nothing more nor less.

NaPoWriMo Day 19 - Destruction

Destruction

There is something about destroying,
a rush, an explosion of expression
that can never be exactly replicated
that sets it apart from creating
something new, something different
something designed to stand against
the test of time. An air of finality
surrounds destruction, while creation
only lends itself to an eventual end.
But that is the very reason creation
exists, futile endeavors in an instant
destroyed to applause and exaltation.

NaPoWriMo Day 18 - If Life Were a Computer Program

If Life Were a Computer Program

And I were the programmer, how different would it be
To have complete control, yes, but also responsibility?
There would be plenty of planning, designing every step
but also bugs a plenty and eternal risk of crashing.
Would there be time for testing? Or would a fatal error,
once compiled, be the end, if life were a computer program?
Could earlier subroutines be rewrote to match the tech?
Or would a novice hack be forever more saved on the hard
drive of the world? Would the rules of Conway or Asimov
reign supreme, or new ones created, if life were a program?

NaPoWriMo Day 17 - Weeping Willow

Weeping Willow

Why does the willow hang
it's head so low? Shame,
sadness, fear, embarrassment
we may never know the truth

The wind whistles through
the willows weeping leaves,
lifting up, like a joke
trying to cheer a friend

NaPoWriMo Day 16 - Power Lies

Power Lies

"With whom does power lie?"
asked a wise and ancient man,
"With Kings or Gods? With Gold
or Steel? Smarts or Strength?
Just where does power lie?"

A monk stood up, bowed down low,
"Gods are greater than any man
True power is theirs, alone."
A knight scoffed, "Gods are good,
but they give power unto the King."

A peasant was next, "Gold", said he
"Kings tax, Gods send rain, but riches
can solve any problem." "Steel!" cried
a sellsword, "is what the rich men buy,
to exercise their power. Steel is power."

A philosopher tutted, "Wisdom has ways,
besting steel, knowledge cannot be bought."
A blacksmith pounded his chest, "Strength
can mold the Steel and mint the Gold,
Strength is self-made, that is power."

"With whom does power lie?"
The monk asked yet again
"Each and every one of us
decides that very thing.
Power lies where we lay it."

NaPoWriMo Day 15 - Unlocked Doors

Unlocked Doors

There is a place in Michigan
down past an old dirt road
where the doors are never locked
indeed, I doubt if locks exist.

Whether house, car, shed, barn,
there is no difference, no keys
are needed, and yet inhabitants
have never felt more secure.

There is a place in Michigan
down past an old dirt road
where hearts are always open
handbuilt houses need no locks

NaPoWriMo Day 14 - Sword Master

Sword Master

The sword master is a learned soul,
experienced, disciplined in the art
of the blade. A sharpened extension
not only of arm, but also of soul.
A skill woven in the very fiber
of his being, and while the master
remains capable of ending life,
that is not his purpose, nor duty.
Yet the pen is mightier than the sword
and mastery shows extension of wit.
Ending life is still a possibility
but the true master creates it.

NaPoWriMo Day 13 - Snow in Texas

Snow in Texas

Snow in Texas is a beautiful thing,
yet also frightening, like a strange
beast, seldom seen, walking amongst
people. Every howling wind a growl,
screaming animosity and hatred,
threatening to throw to the ground,
any fool so unwise as to challenge
its authority and might.

Snow in Texas is a magnificent thing,
a worldly canvas, nature's artist
ready and willing to be molded,
formed and reformed, a masterpiece,
though temporary, that remains
in the hearts of the children
who rarely glimpse the purity
that has befallen them.

NaPoWriMo Day 12 - Moments

Moments

We are all living in a world,
a world of moments, snapshots,
glimpses of timeless scenes
reliving them through memories,
unable to edit a single frame.

But there is still the cutting
room, there is still time
to build a collage, the best
moments, combined, into something
more than just a moment.

NaPoWriMo Day 11 - Wrong Number

Wrong Number

A familiar tone sounds, vibration
in my pocket, a phone comes out.
Glancing at the number, recognition
does not come. I am not expecting
a call, the number is unfamiliar,
strange, like an unknown language,
I am not intrigued, truly uninterested
in what the stranger has to say
but curiosity grows ever stronger.
The ringing stop, screen goes dark.
Nothing, as if the death has taken
this unexpected intruder, but I stare
for minutes, wondering if a message
will arrive, explaining just who
it was that attempted to reach
out to me, but did not succeed.
No message is left
and I am left
wondering

NaPoWriMo Day 10 - The Dancing Flames

The Dancing Flames

Act with an air of immortality,
gluttonous appetite, eating
through all that surrounds
them; the fuel and the very air
necessary for its life. Ravenous,
consuming all until, suicidal,
there is nothing left to take.
He does not pause to ponder
that the resources provided
are finite, they appear unending,
until it is at last too late,
with nothing saved aside,
the ravaging beast vanquishes
himself, ever unaware the end
approaches, even as the lights
flicker weakly.

NaPoWriMo Day 9 - The Scarecrow

The Scarecrow

Spends his days hung up
in a field, his job his name
never asking for a day off
or to leave work early
or for a raise or a promotion
though deep down inside, wishing
for more than to just sit
in a field, scaring crows

'Perhaps', he thinks to himself
'Those crows are not so bad,
after all. There is plenty grain
here for the farmer and his family,
and this has been my office
for as long as I can remember,
I should be able to do with it
what I please, for once.'

And so one fateful day he dropped
from his post, tucked the loose
straw back into his coat, brushing
off the dust of an eternity
and waited
and waited
and waited some more
for his first feathered friend

At last long last a crow flew
down, and landed on a tree
far from the scarecrow's reach.
'What's the game? Why, the stick
has been removed from your ass.
You are not nearly as frightening,
as menacing, as cruel. So why,
oh why, have you ended up so?'

'Alas, old crow, I have retired
to just sit still I have no desire.
All these years I have watched
you fly, away from here, away
from me. To serve the farmer
who let my shirt rot in rain
and scorching sun, never caring
nor noticing how hard I worked.'

The crow came closer and cocked
his head, hearing but unsure
if his former foe was serious.
'I trust you not,' said the crow
'and can you blame me? But I love
the way your buttons shine,
they glisten heavenly in this sun
give one to me, a token of honesty.'

So the scarecrow nodded and reached
for the specks of gold adorning
his front, but the crow flew forward,
tiny talons tearing into the plaid,
farmer's shirt, and one by one
each and every button, plucked
from its place, and the crow flew
far away, glittering in the clouds.

His shirt was shredded, his straw
a mess, the scarecrow hobbled back
to his stick in the mud, pulling
himself back onto his perch, watching
the sky for signs of the crow returning,
and return he did, the moon rising
the scarecrow struck, and killed the bird
stringing it up, a warning to others

NaPoWriMo Day 8 - Sanctity of Love

Sanctity of Love

I hear on the news, rants
and raves, of how groups
seek to destroy the sanctity
of the institution of marriage
but they neglect to mention
the word love, as if poison
and should it cross scowling
lips they would surely die

This seems so formal, professional
as if marriage is a business
and God the CEO, ever striving
to please the stockholders
but love is primal, passionate
without concern for profits
much like the God of the Bible
"because God is love."

Webster claims that sanctity
is Godliness; Peter claims
that God is love, why oh why
then is the Godliness of marriage
so filled with hate, malice,
and the desire to control
what love is pure, what love
deserves to be celebrated

Love is more important
than listening to the windy
whispers of hypocrites
those ungodly servants of God.
So let the politicians
keep their institutions
but stand up to defend
the sanctity of love.

NaPoWriMo Day 7 - September Mist

September Mist

Your name was September Mist
though we all called you Misty
after the color of your coat.
I used to joke you were my aunt
with a beard, grandma's baby
girl, grandma's Schnauzer

You lived a life of luxury,
like a retired executive
golf was your favorite things.
The way the wind blew through
your hair, and into those deep,
dark eyes, as you rode shotgun
in your own personal golf cart.

Though you never cared for clubs,
you kept a collection of balls
always ready for the chase, down
a hallway or across the range
and if the throw was just right,
your mouth open wide, a trap
you managed a hole in one
running back, full of pride.

You loved to bark and run, play
and go for rides and walks,
and thought your eyes showed
the extent of your territory
But old age comes to us all
and you discovered the darkness
as your eyesight dimmed to black.

Your name was September Mist
but we always called you Misty
and as we remember you, our eyes
take on your namesake, and fill
with tears. A dog who lived above
her stature, grandma's best friend.

NaPoWriMo Day 6 - Bookshelf Boulevard

Bookshelf Boulevard

A trip on an interstate
exit signs glowing, which
path should I take?
Exit seven, Rowling Road,
advertises the Hogwarts
Hotel on a blue attractions
sign, but further down I know
lies the Tolkein Expressway.
Or should I turn back around?
Revisit Card Tower and play
Ender's Game? Should I make
my way to the Ruins of Gorlan,
or ski in Icewind Dale? Watch
the Game of Thrones as King's
Clash and Crows Feast, or visit
my friend Elric in Melnibone?

The Winds of Winter run
through my hair, fantasy
surrounds me. I take a ride
on Bookshelf Boulevard
and not a soul can find me.

NaPoWriMo Day 5 - Texas Hold Em

Texas Hold Em

The deal begins, two cards strong
a few are dealt pockets, and some
may start with deuce and seven,
off suit, with nary a hope, but
there is still hope, still the flop,
     the turn,
          the river,
nobody draws dead out of the gate
pocket rockets can still be beat
by sevens full of twos

The flop comes up, shared by all
equal opportunity, regardless
of the cards you were dealt
when this journey first began
you have a better notion of where
the cards lead, but there is still
the turn,
     the river,
chances remain to build your hand
to better your odds

It's late in the game, but cards
remain on the table, in the deck
ready to make it or break it,
if only you hold on, see the next
great adventure unfold, just a flip
a flip of a card, all will be known
the mystery done, the dealer
takes his toll from under your tongue
and you take that ride down
the River Styx.

NaPoWriMo Day 4 - Traiku

Traiku

Waves across the lake
a gaggle of honking geese
skimming the surface

and mallard couples
heads underwater, tails up
bobbing like buoys

water's edge, young boy
welcoming the start of spring
fishing pole in hand

NaPoWriMo Day 3 - Damsel in Distress

Damsel in Distress

He rode from town to town,
steel armor shining bright
in service of the royal crown
this great and virtuous knight.
When asked about his noble quest,
"I seek a damsel in distress"

In the first town to which he rode
there stood a man, wrinkled and old
patching a hole in his tiny abode.
"Sir knight, if I could be so bold
I need your help, I must confess"
"No, I seek a damsel in distress"

The next town over he did find
a small boy with a bloody shirt.
"Sir if you could be so kind,
a ride back home, since I'm hurt."
"Sorry, but forward I must press
for I seek a damsel in distress"

A third town lay over the ridge
the only thing left in his way
a raging river and wooden bridge.
He heard a loud frantic neigh
a mule by the current oppressed"
"Nay, I seek a damsel in distress.

Past the town, a desert without end
filled with snakes and storms of sand
his shield useless, unable to defend
but in the distance, to lend a hand,
mule, man, and boy, I do confess
come to save a knight in distress

NaPoWriMo Day 2 - Subtitles

Subtitles

A Japanese anime presents
two choices, a dilemma,
original, English subtitles
or new audio, dubbed over

Without a thought, I always
always choose the same
as it was originally written
so should it be enjoyed

Tonight, however, a new thought
on why the Tower of Babel
lay uncompleted, languages
across the world divided

Why desire a unified language?
Why seek an official language
as if one is any better, best
worthy of being elevated

Understanding is important,
learning all, unfeasible.
But, if given the choice,
I would take a world of subtitles

NaPoWriMo Day 1 - The Beach

The Beach

Walking through the realm of sand
water's edge rocking back, forth
always receding, as if avoiding
prints left by two bare feet

Carrying scents of salt and dreams
a gentle breeze stirs up the sand
memories of the past, lifting wings
gulls take flight across the sea

The shells and rocks cause no harm
to these practiced and calloused feet
but hanging tight to every pore, sand
has found a vessel for its journey

At last the tide gains its strength
rushing over the rocks the shells
cleaning off the feet, removing
any signs the sand was out of place

The beach is clear, undisturbed
no sign remains of two bare feet
no story left to tell the tale
of a traveling grain of sand

Tomorrow is the day

And I find myself disliking my latest plot idea again. *Sigh* I think I am destined to fail, but I am not ready to throw in the towel just yet. I still like my plot, I just don't think it would fit a script. Scripts and novels are more different than I originally planned for, with scripts focusing on the dialog and novels focusing on the scenery. Still, that is one of the main reasons I want to at least attempt a script frenzy victory, to help build my dialog skills. At the same time, I want to come up with a story that lends itself to heavy dialog, and with that I have a new idea. A group of three assassins doing jobs and competing to successfully find and train an apprentice assassin. Still set in a medieval setting, and I am still working through the details, but time is short.

Nothing further on the poetry front, I will probably just stream of consciousness something tonight at midnight. Look for it then.

Time is ticking down

Just another three days until my masochistic challenge frenzy begins. For the first time in the planning stages I have made it 48 hours without throwing out my plot idea for Script Frenzy so I am thinking I will be going forward with the communal society idea mentioned in my previous post. Even though I have not yet read The Hunger Games I will say that the idea of warrior children fighting for their lives is loosely based on the current hype surrounding that series. Truth be told, as I built the plot in my head, I borrowed ideas from several stories that I have read. There was a time not too long ago that I thought using existing plots as inspiration was the mark of a bad writer, but with time I have come to believe that inspiration from the experts is one of the best ways to go. The challenge is taking that muse and creating something that is entirely your own.

For this plot in particular, I imagined small portions mainly from three book series, with three more in the back of my mind as I was planning. The initial thought came in thinking about R.A. Salvatore's The Dark Elf Trilogy (Book 1) Dark elf children are sent to one of three schools: battle, magic, or temple. It is a matriarchal society that places a much higher value on females than males, and the children are sent to a school that benefits the family the most. My original plot idea followed this relatively closely, with families choosing what career path would be the most prestigious for their reputation, keeping in mind that if their child did not succeed and was killed in battle school or wizard school the shame would be worse than having a child working in menial labor or as a scholar (assuming the society valued warriors and fighters).

The next inspiration came from the Night's Watch in George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire (My personal favorite series) The various members of the Night's Watch are selected to serve as either Rangers (warriors, explorers), Stewards (scribes, cooks, etc), or Builders. The boys are selected based on their skills and the needs of the group as a whole.

These two series cover the vast majority of my inspiration when thinking of this plot, and I have to give credit where credit is due. Hopefully I will be able to come up with a story that is uniquely mine while putting good use to the ideas born from some very talented authors.

Perilous Plot Problems

Down to less than 6 days and I am still struggling with the planning portion of this writing challenge adventure. For the time being I have opted to stop planning for NaPoWriMo and focus more on getting a plot ready for Script Frenzy. This is mainly due to the fact that a script really needs a plot, while for poems I can do 30 independent poems rather than an epic poetic series.

In an attempt to make the plot preparation process easier, I decided to temporarily ignore that I was preparing a script, and instead come up with ideas for a novel. The problem now is condensing an idea for a novel into a decent script form. Not to mention the fact that as I prepare outlines and plots for these stories, I find myself saying, "No, I will hold onto this plot, and make it into a proper novel down the road." Alas, I think I finally have an idea I am ready to roll with, just need to get some more outlining and character development done. Essentially, the idea is a communal society where children are raised up in large groups by women who are specially chosen to raise children. Every person is herded into a specific job at a specific age that is yet to be determined, with boys being sent to become warriors, wizards, stewards (scholars), clergymen, or laborers (farmers, builders, etc). Girls on the other hand are sent to be birthers, cleaners, cooks, or child raisers. I am imagining a girl, or even a group of girls that try to infiltrate their way into the boy's options for jobs. Not sure how I will incorporate that with the community style child raising, but that is another adventure to figure out during April.

Beginning Doubts

As I further prepare for NaPoWriMo and Script Frenzy I have started creating outlines and potential plot points, but the more I flesh them out the less happy I am. I have all but decided to completely scrap my earlier poetry of a prophet idea, but none of the other ideas I have come up with so far have gained any ground in my thinking. Right now the idea I am running with is animal poetry, as if the animals had traditional 'human' style lives. Sort of similar to David Sedaris' Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk: A Modest Bestiary Still working out details of what animals to use and what they will do if I go this route. Alternative ideas include poems based on books, a different book for each of the 30 poems, or perhaps poems describing everyday items as seen through the eyes of an archaeologist, studying our culture millenniums from now. Actually, that last idea could also work for my screenplay for Script Frenzy.

Plans and Outlines

If this were NaNoWriMo I would have pages upon pages of back story, character development, and outlines already prepared, but my decision to participate in NaPoWriMo and Script Frenzy were both relatively last minute, and neither genre is really a strong suit for me. Don't get me wrong, I am not going to rush blindly into April, I still have a week plus a day, and I am an experienced procrastinator, but I think my time will be spent more on mental preparation than actual plot development.

My first and main concern is for Script Frenzy. Not that I view that as the more important writing challenge, but just for the fact that I have written poetry and have not written scripts before, SF is a bit more difficult for me. I felt a little stupid last night after spending a good while ruling out potential plots because it would be too difficult to reenact on stage, just to remember that script writing constituted television shows and movies as well as stage productions. Today, I have been focusing on learning how to format a screenplay and at the recommendation of the official ScriptFrenzy website, I started using a program named Celtx.

Celtx is free and has a desktop application available for Mac and Windows, as well as a web based cloud service. So far I have only played with the web based service, so I can do some writing at work on my lunch break, and continue at home without any difficulty. There is also a PRO version of the software, as well as Android and iOS apps for a small cost, but in my current situation none of those seem prudent. The great thing with Celtx is that it basically handles the formatting for you. Sluglines, actions, characters, dialog, all handled with minimal effort from the user. Definitely a godsend, allowing me to worry more about writing and less about formatting.

On the plot side of things, I am still struggling. One idea I had for my script project was sort of a real person in a video game story. There was a Scooby Doo movie that did something similar, or the relatively recent movie Gamer, or even, in a certain sense, Scott Pilgram. If I go this route I would probably place the character in a MMORPG, with all the user interactions that go with that. Some things will be different since the character would be in the game, not just playing it, but things like resurrecting after death, talking to other characters (but not in the world wide chat) and allocating skill points would all be present. Not 100% on how I feel about that story line, but it is a possibility.

For the poetry challenge, I still like my idea of an epic poem, and actually had a couple of ideas. One that I am toying with would be told from the point of view of a prophet, medieval style scenery. The first and thirtieth poems would be in a first person perspective, the prophet talking about himself and what he does. Poems 2-29 would likely be third person, each poem referencing a specific prophecy that is foretold. Some specific ideas, since it would be medieval in nature include prophecies of the King, the Queen, the Prince, the Blacksmith, the Knight, etc. Still working on the full 28 character list, and still deciding if I really want to go forward with that idea.

First Words

I will be blunt with myself. I have not been writing much lately. Hopefully, this blog will change that. There are two major undertakings happening next month, Script Frenzy and NaPoWriMo. The first of these is Script Frenzy, a venture from the Office of Letters and Light, the same organization that sponsors my favorite writing challenge, NaNoWriMo (The National Novel Writing Month) which I participate in every November. The goal of Script Frenzy is to write 100 pages of a script in 30 days, from April 1 to April 30. This will be the first year I will be attempting to complete Script Frenzy and also the first time I will be trying to write a script. I have always been more of a novel person.

The second challenge is the National Poetry Writing Month. This was influenced by NaNoWriMo, but is not actually related. This challenge is to write 30 poems in the Month of April, one every day. This will also be my first year taking the NaPoWriMo challenge, but I am at least familiar with poetry writing. This blog will primarily be dedicated to my poems during the challenge, although I will also be updating status on Script Frenzy and other writings. While I still prefer novels, writing of any form is beneficial and enjoyable, so this next month should be quite interesting.

I do not as of yet have any plans as to what I want to write about for either challenge. For novels, I tend to gravitate towards fantasy which does not always play well in other forms of writing. The script will be the most difficult for me to come up with a plot for. As for the 30 days of poetry, I am leaning towards creating a single epic poem, split into thirty individual parts. This would be the first epic poem I have tried, so if I go that route it could be quite interesting. Only time will tell, and until then, 10 days left until this madness begins.