I want you to think up some great writers. I mean, some of the really good ones. Some of the ones that have honestly earned their acclaim, and not just gotten it thanks to hype and having the right backers... even if yes, even for really, really good writers, sometimes it's having someone in your corner that gets you noticed at first. Getting published can and does take more time and effort than writing and editing a story into a book, even if you do a full draft revision.
Okay, have you thought up those writers? Good. Now let's look at what's the same between at least most of them. Nothing, you say? Look again.
What's the connection that I think I see, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. Writers be crazy.
How many famous writers either commit suicide or end up insane and institutionalized... or worse? How many writers become famous, you know, only after it would do them any good, or lived dreary, horrible lives? How many of them were sick, or had rough backgrounds or... you know. Just. Not well.
I think, part of being a writer means... if you're going to be a good writer, things are going to have to suck for you in one way or another. Writing is... kind of an art of lying, and living in a fantasy world, and making meaning out of nothing. Sometimes it's... it can be hard to make that and reality mesh. Writing is cathartic, sure, and healing: I know that when I write, things are always... easier to deal with, like I've got this spongy barrier between me and the rest of the world. But when I end a project, or I'm not writing, or I have a day where I just can't find my flow, there's this sensation of... everything hitting a little harder for a little while.
Writers are crazy. I'm not saying you shouldn't aspire to achieving great writing. I'm saying you should be careful about what that can cost, and while it's great to admire a writer's achievements... we writers ourselves aren't always so worthy of admiration.
I have to go hug Luna now.
~Scrivener Blooms
Friday 26 April 2013
Friday 19 April 2013
Everything Sucks
So today sucks. I mean, today really sucks. It's wet and horrible and everything's messy and the whole world just sucks. Everything sucks. I hate everything. And I really didn't want to write a post today.
But just because everything sucks, because everyone's telling you what a failure you are or that you can't do anything right or you know, you get a large piece of metal through your body... that doesn't mean I can just skip out on my responsibilities or my duties or anything.
Everything sucks. Everything honestly sucks. But in spite of all that, I still have my duties and my responsibilities. And even as much as I don't want to do most of them, especially the little things like... this writing thing... I still should. Because honestly, it's one less thing to regret not doing later on. Because... you know, life sucks, but we can still fix some of what sucks about life. And we should.
And you know what? Some of my best writing comes from suffering. Some of my best writing is born in chaos, and pain. And it's not that I want to feel pain, but... maybe... maybe learning to write during the worst of times is part of what helps... make it stronger, better. Helps things get better. Builds that ability to write at all times, which is... pretty important if you want to be a writer.
Just because stuff sucks and you don't want to write and would prefer to stab yourself repeatedly, doesn't mean that you get to stab yourself repeatedly and you shouldn't write. Stabbing is bad. Writing is good. Focus through the pain and just... write. Believe me. You'll feel a lot better.
~Scrivener Blooms
But just because everything sucks, because everyone's telling you what a failure you are or that you can't do anything right or you know, you get a large piece of metal through your body... that doesn't mean I can just skip out on my responsibilities or my duties or anything.
Everything sucks. Everything honestly sucks. But in spite of all that, I still have my duties and my responsibilities. And even as much as I don't want to do most of them, especially the little things like... this writing thing... I still should. Because honestly, it's one less thing to regret not doing later on. Because... you know, life sucks, but we can still fix some of what sucks about life. And we should.
And you know what? Some of my best writing comes from suffering. Some of my best writing is born in chaos, and pain. And it's not that I want to feel pain, but... maybe... maybe learning to write during the worst of times is part of what helps... make it stronger, better. Helps things get better. Builds that ability to write at all times, which is... pretty important if you want to be a writer.
Just because stuff sucks and you don't want to write and would prefer to stab yourself repeatedly, doesn't mean that you get to stab yourself repeatedly and you shouldn't write. Stabbing is bad. Writing is good. Focus through the pain and just... write. Believe me. You'll feel a lot better.
~Scrivener Blooms
Friday 12 April 2013
How To Write A Poem, Version B
Today I'm going to talk about how to write a poem again. Following my silly cooking recipe metaphor used last post, we're going to again write another poem according to a... recipe and ingredients. Okay, that was a slightly-awkward sentence. Don't blame me, I've got Luna looking over my shoulder here and demanding that I write said poem about her.
So today let's do something a little more... free. No meter, no rhyme: we're going to stick to free-form poetry, and we're not even going to use stanzas. We're going to instead focus on building a free form poem using rhythm as the main component. It's a little tricky, but there's a lot of places you can go with this, and it overall often allows you to build a poem that has more impact and sounds more mature or professional. Even if, yes, yes, rhyming poems can still be very powerful in their own right.
Luna says I'm not using the recipe metaphor enough. Well, okay, fine. Rhyming poems are cookies, freeform poems are pies. Because it's pies that win baking competitions. And they're a billion times harder to make than they seem at first.
So, regarding the 'ingredients,' you get to pretty much set your own. But the rhythm must be consistent: no
"and I
then so said I
I said this to him, when he didn't want to hear"
As a bad example of what I mean by that.
What we're aiming for is more like this:
"The rhythm of this poem is simple;
meter by meter, word by word;
It comes out to about the same length:
has a distinct beginning, middle, and end."
Look at me. There's meta-poetry right there. All hail me as poet-loser-king. Okay, okay, okay. Let's start this up, and see what we can do with the basics. And for this, yes, all of us are going to write a poem about Luna, or the night, or... something. Luna says so.
Since there's no set format here, and this is just practice, let's do something short. Let's keep it all one block, and make it a poem that illustrates an image or a scene. But because of the lack of format, I can't exactly give as many instructions as last time, but I can still drop a few helpful tips. For example, if you're just starting to learn to write with this kind of poem, don't worry about using fancy indenting or formatting right now. You can always play with that later to give your poem more of a distinct look. Right now, focus on the rhythm and length, to try and keep things regular.
Here's a few more hints, written in example and explained a little.
"A line, written like this, has rhythm, from commas." The commas divide the syllables: 2 3, 3, 3. Read it aloud and note both the way you speak it, and the way you naturally frame your words around the pauses, giving each word before the pause extra emphasis.
"Two lines, written in this format
will be read continuously like they are one." There's no punctuation at the end of the first line and no capitalization at the beginning of the second: these things normally cause us to take a slight, natural pause, or put emphasis on the next word. Without either, even though we recognize them as separate lines, we read it as one.
"Aesthetics appeal: alliteration aims at alphabetical allurement." In other words, alliterating isn't just for looking cool. It adds impact and also helps with flow; when I use a bunch of words that all start with the same letter together, even if the rhythm is really off, our eyes still tell us all the same there's some kind of hidden rhythm there simply because it recognizes everything starts with the same letter. About half of writing is all about lies and deception and looking good.
So let's see what kind of poems you come up with, with these things in mind. What, example? Fine. I'm going to do a short, six-line image poem, focusing on Luna.
beneath horn of plenty, glowing with
sapphire sunlight borne in shadow
as her ephemeral curtain wafts all around;
eyes the color of midnight's lush flora,
kiss me with your lips, soft and silky
giving the night's kiss beneath moon's light.
Hey, I didn't say it'd be good, I just said it'd be a short image poem. Okay, okay, that's enough. Hopefully this at least gives a few ideas about things. Maybe next week I'll try something more useful and write about... writing again. For now, Luna wants coffee, and I agree with her. Coffee time it is.
~Scrivener Blooms
So today let's do something a little more... free. No meter, no rhyme: we're going to stick to free-form poetry, and we're not even going to use stanzas. We're going to instead focus on building a free form poem using rhythm as the main component. It's a little tricky, but there's a lot of places you can go with this, and it overall often allows you to build a poem that has more impact and sounds more mature or professional. Even if, yes, yes, rhyming poems can still be very powerful in their own right.
Luna says I'm not using the recipe metaphor enough. Well, okay, fine. Rhyming poems are cookies, freeform poems are pies. Because it's pies that win baking competitions. And they're a billion times harder to make than they seem at first.
So, regarding the 'ingredients,' you get to pretty much set your own. But the rhythm must be consistent: no
"and I
then so said I
I said this to him, when he didn't want to hear"
As a bad example of what I mean by that.
What we're aiming for is more like this:
"The rhythm of this poem is simple;
meter by meter, word by word;
It comes out to about the same length:
has a distinct beginning, middle, and end."
Look at me. There's meta-poetry right there. All hail me as poet-loser-king. Okay, okay, okay. Let's start this up, and see what we can do with the basics. And for this, yes, all of us are going to write a poem about Luna, or the night, or... something. Luna says so.
Since there's no set format here, and this is just practice, let's do something short. Let's keep it all one block, and make it a poem that illustrates an image or a scene. But because of the lack of format, I can't exactly give as many instructions as last time, but I can still drop a few helpful tips. For example, if you're just starting to learn to write with this kind of poem, don't worry about using fancy indenting or formatting right now. You can always play with that later to give your poem more of a distinct look. Right now, focus on the rhythm and length, to try and keep things regular.
Here's a few more hints, written in example and explained a little.
"A line, written like this, has rhythm, from commas." The commas divide the syllables: 2 3, 3, 3. Read it aloud and note both the way you speak it, and the way you naturally frame your words around the pauses, giving each word before the pause extra emphasis.
"Two lines, written in this format
will be read continuously like they are one." There's no punctuation at the end of the first line and no capitalization at the beginning of the second: these things normally cause us to take a slight, natural pause, or put emphasis on the next word. Without either, even though we recognize them as separate lines, we read it as one.
"Aesthetics appeal: alliteration aims at alphabetical allurement." In other words, alliterating isn't just for looking cool. It adds impact and also helps with flow; when I use a bunch of words that all start with the same letter together, even if the rhythm is really off, our eyes still tell us all the same there's some kind of hidden rhythm there simply because it recognizes everything starts with the same letter. About half of writing is all about lies and deception and looking good.
So let's see what kind of poems you come up with, with these things in mind. What, example? Fine. I'm going to do a short, six-line image poem, focusing on Luna.
beneath horn of plenty, glowing with
sapphire sunlight borne in shadow
as her ephemeral curtain wafts all around;
eyes the color of midnight's lush flora,
kiss me with your lips, soft and silky
giving the night's kiss beneath moon's light.
Hey, I didn't say it'd be good, I just said it'd be a short image poem. Okay, okay, that's enough. Hopefully this at least gives a few ideas about things. Maybe next week I'll try something more useful and write about... writing again. For now, Luna wants coffee, and I agree with her. Coffee time it is.
~Scrivener Blooms
Friday 5 April 2013
How To Write A Poem, Version A
Okay. Today, we're going to get into the basics of writing a poem. It's a little like baking: you start off with an idea of what you want to make, find a fitting recipe, and then butcher it horribly in the act of creating it. And then you end up with weird-looking muffins, but the real test is in tasting them, not how they look at first glance.
Today's recipe is rhyming poems. I bucking hate rhyming poems. We're going to do ABAB rhyming type, with no set meter. Get out your dictionaries and thesauruses, and prepare your...
No Luna, not their... that. No please don't prepare... I'm locking you out of the office now.
Distractions aside: first, find your idea. My idea is going to be... obnoxious annoying ponies who I AM NOT LETTING IN THE OFFICE. You choose yours.
I've mentioned our recipe above, and we're going to make it... three verses - or servings, if you want to keep up the already-tired metaphor - and while we aren't going to use any set meter, please try and keep each line beneath fifteen syllables, and about the same length. It's a quick and dirty trick to help make sure the rhythm of a poem is consistent.
Now how do you start? Well, that depends: although a lot of ponies say you should write a title last, I think you should write a working title first: it doesn't have to be great or anything, it just has to be something that conveys the idea you're trying to get across. Think of it as laying a foundation for your subject: like in this case, I'm going to call my poem:
"The Bossy Mare"
Yep. And that's what the poem is going to be about. Nice and simple, right? That title can be changed afterwards, but I find that putting down the title kind of helps get yourself - and your muse/hooves/writing powers - in the right state of mind, and helps you focus on what you want the poem to be about, instead of trying to write the first line and ending up with something way out of left field. Now I know my first line is going to specifically relate to the theme of the bossy mare, and not how frustrated I am with the fact she has her horn stuck in the freaking lock and is now yelling for me to get her out. Which I am not going to do.
Onwards ho.
Now, let's do this simple. We'll stick with distinct themes for each verse: for example, this one, I'm going to focus on the Bossy Mare's features and create an image of her in the reader's head, as well as show my own relationship to her.
With a mane like Nightmare Night sky,
And eyes full of mischief and guile,
I often find myself wondering why,
I chose to marry her over a crocodile.
Now, let's examine that verse, shall we? First, syllables: 8, 9, 10, and 13. But because the lines are progressively longer, and not by big jumps - except for the last line, anyway - there's no actual sense that the poem itself is getting more drawn out, and the rhythm doesn't get damaged as much. Furthermore, the last line being the longest is a cheap but effective trick to give it that much more impact and emphasis overall.
Let's continue, and since we've done a sort of introduction and setup with that first verse, let's play on something else. No, I'm not going to get into a discussion of the metaphor or imagery in the poem: that's something for you to experiment with on your own. Or to wait until I do a post on that.
So second verse. We're going to use... juxtaposition and parallelism.
She torments me stealthily all day,
Then parties throughout the whole night,
Dancing is her favorite way to pray,
Second only to her love of the fight.
I also discussed stuff in that verse that isn't physical. I touched on her personality, what she likes to do, what forms her, so to speak. Let's start with the syllable length of each line again, though: 9, 8, 10, 10. Now, first, look at the first two lines: you'll notice how even though the first is longer, the second sounds just as long, even though it isn't. That's because "throughout" is a drawn-out word: even though "through" is one syllable, it feels like two, thanks to the "th/roo" pronunciation. And likewise, even though "stealthily" has three syllables, it's run all together, so it feels much shorter. "stellthillE:" ending on a "y" often makes us "forget" that last syllable, so to speak.
Let's move on to the third and final verse. Endings are a pain, and there's a few different ways you can tackle them, but I should probably leave that for another post. Instead, let's focus on summing things up.
Things always have to go at her speed,
And I can never have any real say,
Yet even if at times, she makes my mind bleed,
I wouldn't want things any other way.
Okay, that last verse is a little awkward. What makes it awkward? That third line feels much longer than the others, both syllable wise and lengthwise. But at the same time, notice what that structure does: it makes the third line feel more drawn out, but the effect on the final, shorter line, is that it gives it more impact. When you finish it, you feel like the poem really is at its conclusion. It doesn't feel cut off, but it does feel like it hits a distinct ending. Also notice that this last verse is composed of more statements about being than imagery or anything else. It's a summation: it's talking about her, but her effects on me, and how... in spite of how bossy the bossy mare is, I wouldn't want her any other way. It turns the poem into something softly romantic, even if it keeps up the comic element with that note about... all the brain damage living with her has caused me over the years.
Now, let's look at our poem as a whole.
The Bossy Mare
With a mane like Nightmare Night sky,
And eyes full of mischief and guile,
I often find myself wondering why,
I chose to marry her over a crocodile.
She torments me stealthily all day,
Then parties throughout the whole night,
Dancing is her favorite way to pray,
Second only to her love of the fight.
Things always have to go at her speed,
And I can never have any real say,
Yet even if at times, she makes my mind bleed,
I wouldn't want things any other way.
And there you have it. A short, simple poem, written by a short, simple recipe. I have to go pry Luna's head out of the door now. Maybe when I have more time I can get into more of the structure of this poem, but... if you've gotten this far, you've got the basics. Learning everything else comes with practice. Just keep practicing: study the basics, practice the basics, and let your writing lead you. It'll develop naturally, you'll see.
~Scrivener Blooms
Today's recipe is rhyming poems. I bucking hate rhyming poems. We're going to do ABAB rhyming type, with no set meter. Get out your dictionaries and thesauruses, and prepare your...
No Luna, not their... that. No please don't prepare... I'm locking you out of the office now.
Distractions aside: first, find your idea. My idea is going to be... obnoxious annoying ponies who I AM NOT LETTING IN THE OFFICE. You choose yours.
I've mentioned our recipe above, and we're going to make it... three verses - or servings, if you want to keep up the already-tired metaphor - and while we aren't going to use any set meter, please try and keep each line beneath fifteen syllables, and about the same length. It's a quick and dirty trick to help make sure the rhythm of a poem is consistent.
Now how do you start? Well, that depends: although a lot of ponies say you should write a title last, I think you should write a working title first: it doesn't have to be great or anything, it just has to be something that conveys the idea you're trying to get across. Think of it as laying a foundation for your subject: like in this case, I'm going to call my poem:
"The Bossy Mare"
Yep. And that's what the poem is going to be about. Nice and simple, right? That title can be changed afterwards, but I find that putting down the title kind of helps get yourself - and your muse/hooves/writing powers - in the right state of mind, and helps you focus on what you want the poem to be about, instead of trying to write the first line and ending up with something way out of left field. Now I know my first line is going to specifically relate to the theme of the bossy mare, and not how frustrated I am with the fact she has her horn stuck in the freaking lock and is now yelling for me to get her out. Which I am not going to do.
Onwards ho.
Now, let's do this simple. We'll stick with distinct themes for each verse: for example, this one, I'm going to focus on the Bossy Mare's features and create an image of her in the reader's head, as well as show my own relationship to her.
With a mane like Nightmare Night sky,
And eyes full of mischief and guile,
I often find myself wondering why,
I chose to marry her over a crocodile.
Now, let's examine that verse, shall we? First, syllables: 8, 9, 10, and 13. But because the lines are progressively longer, and not by big jumps - except for the last line, anyway - there's no actual sense that the poem itself is getting more drawn out, and the rhythm doesn't get damaged as much. Furthermore, the last line being the longest is a cheap but effective trick to give it that much more impact and emphasis overall.
Let's continue, and since we've done a sort of introduction and setup with that first verse, let's play on something else. No, I'm not going to get into a discussion of the metaphor or imagery in the poem: that's something for you to experiment with on your own. Or to wait until I do a post on that.
So second verse. We're going to use... juxtaposition and parallelism.
She torments me stealthily all day,
Then parties throughout the whole night,
Dancing is her favorite way to pray,
Second only to her love of the fight.
I also discussed stuff in that verse that isn't physical. I touched on her personality, what she likes to do, what forms her, so to speak. Let's start with the syllable length of each line again, though: 9, 8, 10, 10. Now, first, look at the first two lines: you'll notice how even though the first is longer, the second sounds just as long, even though it isn't. That's because "throughout" is a drawn-out word: even though "through" is one syllable, it feels like two, thanks to the "th/roo" pronunciation. And likewise, even though "stealthily" has three syllables, it's run all together, so it feels much shorter. "stellthillE:" ending on a "y" often makes us "forget" that last syllable, so to speak.
Let's move on to the third and final verse. Endings are a pain, and there's a few different ways you can tackle them, but I should probably leave that for another post. Instead, let's focus on summing things up.
Things always have to go at her speed,
And I can never have any real say,
Yet even if at times, she makes my mind bleed,
I wouldn't want things any other way.
Okay, that last verse is a little awkward. What makes it awkward? That third line feels much longer than the others, both syllable wise and lengthwise. But at the same time, notice what that structure does: it makes the third line feel more drawn out, but the effect on the final, shorter line, is that it gives it more impact. When you finish it, you feel like the poem really is at its conclusion. It doesn't feel cut off, but it does feel like it hits a distinct ending. Also notice that this last verse is composed of more statements about being than imagery or anything else. It's a summation: it's talking about her, but her effects on me, and how... in spite of how bossy the bossy mare is, I wouldn't want her any other way. It turns the poem into something softly romantic, even if it keeps up the comic element with that note about... all the brain damage living with her has caused me over the years.
Now, let's look at our poem as a whole.
The Bossy Mare
With a mane like Nightmare Night sky,
And eyes full of mischief and guile,
I often find myself wondering why,
I chose to marry her over a crocodile.
She torments me stealthily all day,
Then parties throughout the whole night,
Dancing is her favorite way to pray,
Second only to her love of the fight.
Things always have to go at her speed,
And I can never have any real say,
Yet even if at times, she makes my mind bleed,
I wouldn't want things any other way.
And there you have it. A short, simple poem, written by a short, simple recipe. I have to go pry Luna's head out of the door now. Maybe when I have more time I can get into more of the structure of this poem, but... if you've gotten this far, you've got the basics. Learning everything else comes with practice. Just keep practicing: study the basics, practice the basics, and let your writing lead you. It'll develop naturally, you'll see.
~Scrivener Blooms
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