I hear fictional people
So cold and sterile is the page, so raw and rare and full of white space, so unlike the beautiful, formatted thing it will become.
Tonight I went to critique to hear what people thought of my story, written as one of our semi-annual challenges, this time based around a piece of truly crappy composite art found drifting in a bottle somewhere on the internet's vast shore. I rather liked the story, actually, because I decided that the only way I could get a handle on it was to just let go of my writer brain and type out what I heard in my head. I hear stories. I see them, too. I get snatches of scenes, bits of dialog, pieces of action, and back stories fill themselves in. I hear it in voices that sound unlike most things I've read, and I fight pretty hard to make the words into something I like reading. Sometimes, I think I shouldn't fight.
"Dirty Davey often struck observant people as the sort of bloke who would spend an evening smoking, drinking, and chatting up a fellow and then turn him into the bobbies next day if there was a penny to be made from the poor sod. Not kind, no; not generous, true; and not unfair, it must be said; but this assessment of a regrettably grizzled Dirty Davey missed the mark. Davey'd done his bit in the king's irons and didn't fancy sending anyone else there without good reason; and a shilling to shine between his fingers didn't figure in Davey's mind as good reason to take away a man's freedom."
It sounds better in my head, of course, and I suppose I should be grateful that it doesn't run more along the lines of, "Stop by the Shell station on the way to work, and get 30 gallons of gasoline and a box of matches; you'll need them." Even so, it's rare that I give into the voice I hear and put it on the page.
This time I did, and it worked. Now for the revising. All good points made tonight, all wise council if I will but heed, and all done in kindness. I'll pick and choose how I rebuild it, and I'll have it done for submission within two weeks. August 28th. I need you to hold me to this.
Also, I'll try and renew the Blog Fiction Project. I have the first chapter done and ideas for the next two or three. An outline and away we go.
Tonight I went to critique to hear what people thought of my story, written as one of our semi-annual challenges, this time based around a piece of truly crappy composite art found drifting in a bottle somewhere on the internet's vast shore. I rather liked the story, actually, because I decided that the only way I could get a handle on it was to just let go of my writer brain and type out what I heard in my head. I hear stories. I see them, too. I get snatches of scenes, bits of dialog, pieces of action, and back stories fill themselves in. I hear it in voices that sound unlike most things I've read, and I fight pretty hard to make the words into something I like reading. Sometimes, I think I shouldn't fight.
"Dirty Davey often struck observant people as the sort of bloke who would spend an evening smoking, drinking, and chatting up a fellow and then turn him into the bobbies next day if there was a penny to be made from the poor sod. Not kind, no; not generous, true; and not unfair, it must be said; but this assessment of a regrettably grizzled Dirty Davey missed the mark. Davey'd done his bit in the king's irons and didn't fancy sending anyone else there without good reason; and a shilling to shine between his fingers didn't figure in Davey's mind as good reason to take away a man's freedom."
It sounds better in my head, of course, and I suppose I should be grateful that it doesn't run more along the lines of, "Stop by the Shell station on the way to work, and get 30 gallons of gasoline and a box of matches; you'll need them." Even so, it's rare that I give into the voice I hear and put it on the page.
This time I did, and it worked. Now for the revising. All good points made tonight, all wise council if I will but heed, and all done in kindness. I'll pick and choose how I rebuild it, and I'll have it done for submission within two weeks. August 28th. I need you to hold me to this.
Also, I'll try and renew the Blog Fiction Project. I have the first chapter done and ideas for the next two or three. An outline and away we go.