at the car dealer

"But my wife..."
Behind two black sedans and a glass show window a woman in hiking suit stares across the table- with steel legs looking as fragile as the womans crossed fingers- at a man who seems to be her husband. The man is fully dressed in a suit, formal, his attire easily resembles that of a manequine, flawless, but a drop of kimchi stain on his left sleeve. The sun chose to shine on the man's already gleeming shirt, a trembling pearl, and the cut edge smiles of the two salesmen, while one of them politely interupts-
"Oh, Mr. Chu surely that's no problem, luckily our brand has just the right vehicle for a madam with such requirements. Would you care to take a look at this catalogue."
As the two men take turns explaining the features of the automobile to be sold, the man's fingers reach for a cup of water, slowly, his eyes catch a glimps of red while the paper cup is delivered to his lips.
The man rubs the stain with a wettened tissue.
The stain dries and fades away, it's irritating red returning to its original color white.

Can you believe

Can you believe that somebody may simply be interested in who you are not what you have, what you do and where you are? I almost did. I think I still do.

Anything you want for your birthday? I want 'you'. Cheesy. No really, I wan't Sue. Who you are.
And exactly how are you planning to get 'me'? Through your mouth. Oh, really. Yeah.

On the day of his birthday, he really did 'get' me. He asked me through my life and I told him the story of how I came to become who I am today. Listening attentively he guided me through my lifelong traumas soft and soothingly.

Exercise - Analyzation of Beginnings

The Stranger by Albert Camus

  Maman died today. Or yesterday maybe, I don't know. I got a telegram from the home: "Mother deceased. Funeral tomorrow. Faithfully yours." That doesn't mean anything. Maybe it was yesterday.

Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami

  In the spring of her twenty-second year, Sumire fell in love for the first time in her life. An intense love, a veritable tornado sweeping across the plains ... In short, a love of truly monumental proportions. The person she fell in love with happened to be seventeen years older than Sumire. And was married. And, should I add, was a woman. This is where it all began, and where it all wound up. Almost.

The Cut-Glass Bowl by F. Scott Fitzgerald

  There was a rough stone age and a smooth stone age and a bronze age, and many years afterward a cut-glass age. In that cut-glass age, when young ladies had persuaded young men with long, curly mustaches to marry them, they sat down several months afterward and wrote thank-you notes for all sort of cut-glass presents ...

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carrol

  Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, 'and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice, 'without pictures or conversation?'

  So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her. 

A Child Called "It" by Dave Pelzer

  March 5, 1973, Daly City, CaliforniaㅡI'm late. I've got to finish the dishes on time, otherwise no breakfast; and since I didn't have dinner last night, I have to make sure I get something to eat. Mother's running around yelling at my brothers. I can hear her stomping down the hallway towards the kitchen. I dip my hands back into the scalding rinse water. It's to late. She catches me with my hands out of the water.
  SMACK! ...

What's going on here?
What kind of info is the author giving you?
What mystery is the author presenting?
What is set up for the whole story?

Notes Organized from Classes before Midterm

" Realism, it does not always tell the whole story."
/ A balance between General vs Particular needs to be made.

" Characters are (need to be) wierd (interesting)."
/ You never have a perfect character. They have a special ability, as well as, a weakness.
The flaws usually become the reason of happening or a case of conflict.

" Do something unexpectable."
/ Put them into the corner and make them suffer so they have to do something.
Be sure to make the choice surprising, unexpectable. Dramatize.


4 Points for Critique
1. What's going on?
/ Not the plot but the philosophical idea or theme.
2. What is working here?
/ Effective points
3. What can be improved?
/ What is not quite done right, why?
4. One last suggesion?
/ If there was one thing I would work on it would be-


"How am I self-contradictory?"

Breaking the rules.

Dissonance.

Research!

What is a Story?

Plot, props and character, change;
Characters and how they change.
Understanding and misunderstanding,
Connection;
Significance of events lead to series of connections.
Decisions; choice and consequence,
Satisfaction,
Which threads to pull up,
Suffering; who gets hurt?
Point of view
Story telling - tone, voice...
Narrator - 1st, 3rd, (2nd) / Reliable vs Unreliable
Narators are characters / Limited, omniscent
Conflict
Memory
Action;
In Medias Res: Begin in the middle of things (action)
What is your character going to do?
Problems and Issues
Ethical prescriptions, morals
Make readers think about this
Judgement
Ethics and power issues the complicity (good and bad, evil)
Feeling: No answer, confront yourself
Difference between Art and Ethics (complex)
Publicly, not easily as personally

" Fail better."
/ Relax. Find a story inside yourself and find the best way to tell it.
There are divers genres, ways to do it, try to have fun.
Learn how to tell a good story well, when to stop editing.

" Writing is not like jazz - revise."

" It is not a race. "
Write daily, take a certain amount of time everyday.
Emersion. Critique.

" Make concrete goals."

Schedule.
Carry a notebook. Adjust schdule. Put in the time. Play with it.

" Read the kind of stuff your writing."
/ Learning by imitating is a good way to learn about style and voice.
Read english everyday, get used to literary expressions.

" We find the story in the details."

" Give something to imagine."

Look out for using too much adjectives and adverbs.
" Cut the fat, they're only useful when they are surprises."

" Imply and Simplify; make them imagine what's not there."


" Names have special associations."

Flat and Rounded character
Flat characters are like supporting actors, descriptions are simpler.
Round characters are more complex, unique and associable.
Flat charactrers may be interesting but usually follow the formula.

"Show" don't tell.
Reveal slowly, in small ways and big ways.
Avoid letting the readers know so quickly.

" Find the moment."
If you choose a scene it should have something in it.
Use flash backs.

" Good writings are Fractals."
Like yeast the first scene should have the seeds.
Same thing with differences grow into something bigger.

" Foreign language is spice."

"What is the role of humor?"

Reading out loud and acting out works.

Spoon theory: metaphoric language. A way to tell dramatically.

Tension at the first scene. Form an inherent conflict. Possible conflict. Don't make it obvious.
Or a promise on what is going to change.

Having to guess is okay but help readers guess correctly.

" Testing the characters is about what you think human nature is about."

Bring the character into a painful and embarassing moment.
Purpose: to pull them ito the experience and show how we deal with it.

Characters may refuse to change, fail to deal with the question.
Try giving your characters one of the hardest question of your life.

" The most interesting character is a person with a problem surrounded with people with problems."

" Spin as many plates as you can."

D

Sometimes I wonder why I am so drawn to difficulty. Difficulties in life, difficulties in my character, difficulties in life coping with my character. Most of the problems are interwined with a memory or some kind of link to a past traumatic or troubled event. It is as if I had a knot of feelings, the worries all tangled up deep inside of me. When certain situations start loosening the knot I suddenly have to cope with these dark mixed emotions all at once. Falling into chaos I run through the tangles somehow trying to get them untangled yet when I fail, and the situation ends I quietly tie them up again waiting for something to pull the strings. So I do want to get them sorted out but why can I not do it on my own? Probably because I'm scared, afraid to deal with my own dark feelings by myself. Like my lover told me that he had always felt so bare and alone like a little boy out in the plains with a tornado coming close. It is very difficult to deal with things as big as yourself, especially when your eyes tend to magnify the bad to make it worse. Making yourself into one big demon when all you are is human.      

sigh

sigh...
sighs are usually followed
by I wishes
or should'ves

Z

My torso had almost forgotten
what you had done to me
the gashes made to endure
in the name of charity.
Away with these haunting memories.

My focus wanders
into the distance,
at the thought of you.
The life you lived after your death
I had to take you through.

Please, get well, I prayed
for the sake of your arid life.
Days no one could touch,
drawn out by people at night.
Oh it was such a strife.

How could I, a little girl
bring somebody back from death?
Regardlessly my little soul
could not leave this corpes undead.
I lured him out from underneath.

With my purity as bait
your drool flowing endlessly
leaving slimy tracks behind.
Ata boy your doing well,
just keep following me.

Through the rivers and the rains
down the water washed
away with those grimy grims
I thought I could rid of them
but the flood went on.

Onto me, was when I saw
this was not the death
that had made you so dark
but the life that been before it,
the slime clings endlessly.

The light I had shone on you
all but made you shine,
like a slug leaving trails
fake diamonds left behind.
Allthemore I cherished you.

The warmth I gave
meant nothing to you
the tears I shed just stung
your thin grey skin so sensitive
writhing and churning along.

Once I tried to rid of you
back to where you were,
but you insist to follow me
sputtering so helplessly
that you could not be abandoned.

I walk a few steps
and look behind, there you are
slugging on with droopy eyes
focused unfocusly on me
and my dragging pace.

What a race, so meaningless
no enthusiast no speed.
I mumble on with dreary eyes
for two long months I run
my own marathon.

At last I cross the finish line
smiling happily. Congratulate
I left you there for someone else
to take, just in time another girl
comes by your running mate.