Meeting Recap: 7/26/12

Assignment: Some traumatic or extremely exciting event has occurred in your characters life, write about their emotions and senses (What do they feel, sense, notice differently because of that event) but don't write out what actually happened to them. Goal 250 words (try to be concise, but don't restrict yourself if it turns into something longer.)

We planned to meet in Gilman Lounge, but the door was locked, so we climbed up on the roof and met anyways.

Talked about our dialogue exercises and discovered some useful dialogue tools, that will help to add depth to our stories without packing it into stilted dialogue.

How to differentiate characters:
-Dialect (aint, dunno, gonna)
-buzzwords (bro, shazzam, *whistle* chk-chk)
-Confidence level (careful with this one, it gets used a lot)
-Maturity (Father/son, master/apprentice)
-Education level (big words small words)

Here's the podcasts where I got the exercise (and some ideas):
http://www.writingexcuses.com/2010/12/27/writing-excuses-5-17-dialog-exercises/
http://www.writingexcuses.com/2011/01/16/writing-excuses-5-20-more-dialog-exercises/
Howard Taylor

The 4 authors who do this podcast are awesome teachers for epic fantasy (my eventual goal) but a lot of their stuff applies to short stories (fiction and non) as well.

In particular, Howard Taylor of the Shlock Mercenary Webcomic (schlockmercenary.com) does brilliant character arcs & sub plots (i.e. short stories within a comic that's been posted every day for more than 10 years.) I recommend you check out his work.

Brandon Sanderson
Brandon Sanderson does extremely good work in epic fantasy, and is one of the genre's best authors today. I've read his Mistborn series, very well done, and original in a genre where iconic cliches are so easy to overdo.
I'm not familiar with Dan's, or Mary's work, but I suspect that it is also good.


With that, I'll conclude this week's recap. Enjoy the writing prompt!


Interesting Fact: Howard and Brandon are both Mormon!






Meeting Recap: 7/19/12

Assignment: Write a set of dialogue without any supporting text. Find ways within the dialogue to differentiate their voices.


We sat in the rain
We read our work
We slurped on juiceboxes
We wrote this:    

     I cannot believe we used to feed tuna fish to our cats. There is no nutritional value to them, and when they pass gas it's as if it's raining sewage into a giant vat of old milk. Pure unbridled putrescence; the stuff of nightmares. Nightmares that make a person wonder how nature allows such abominations. Yet, he continued to eat.
     "No sense stopping now."
     As with any horrible smell he gradually grew a tolerance to for it's appalling odor as he ate. The taste, however, caused his stomach to seriously reconsider his brain's questionable decisions. He kept telling himself,
      "food was food, right?"
     but years of survival training could not stop him from second guessing the fact that this was "food." He began to tear as the smell seeped into his nostrils, nearly feeling the rot. Closing his eyes, he took a bite... suddenly his vision was filled with stars... rainbows! A flavor so savory, so sweet... beyond words! If the appearance and odor deceived, the flavor bedazzled. Sadly, only three spoonfulls remained. He finished them quickly, and soon regretted not savoring the last of his meal. For all he knew it would be his last for a long time. He turned his back to the sunset, picked up his pack and started walking.

__________

     Isla, in complete shock of the the destruction that lay before her, became blind with dizziness. A dizziness so profound that she collapsed. Her wrath exhausted, she fell into a deep sleep in the center of what used to be down town.
     "Hey... wake up..."
     She opened her eyes to a near pitch black night. Only the distant fires of the burning rubble illuminated the shadow that awakened her. It was the size of a large cat.
     Her hair stood on end. No one - nothing should be here. She'd thought she was safe enough for a few moments of rest. As she sat, the aching gnaw of her most recent memories began to make her ill. Isla vomited. Why, oh, why would anyone ever do something so disgusting and so violent? She would never be able to enjoy a watermelon again.

Afterword:
The writers of this story apologize for any serious offences taken due to its' disturbing content. We had no idea what we were doing at the time.
          
    -Write Club

p.s. But then again maybe society needs to be shaken up once in a while. Judge for yourself. We should hope for something better.

__________

     Every time I stop at your grave, I experience some satisfaction seeing last years rose is missing. Despite my fading memories, it seems my gift is still being accepted. It seems a paltry offering, I suppose, after everything that happened, but in my heart I know you're dead, and the dead don't really mind. You never were one that went for a lot of flattery and empty gestures. Oh well. I suppose a bribe will be necessary... will twenty dollars fit the bill, or will you be so cold hearted as to demand more?
     "I don't plan on running this business much longer to be honest. I'll give it to you for twenty dollars right now. I assure you, you won't find another offer like this anywhere else."
     I'd already started to walk away. The offer caught me off guard. I had exactly twenty dollars in my pocket. Maybe I could walk home instead of catching the bus. I have principles and a spotless reputation to uphold. Walking will be worth it! I will make it to eh convention, and make sure that everyone learns the truth. I will make it if it kills me!
     He made his way to the station and boarded the next train to Memphis; nothing could stop him now.

__________


     "It just won't work." Henry sighed as he tossed the device into his scrap heap left the workshop. Henry didn't worry much about the work he was tossing away; his creative mind could come up with new ideas faster than he could fix the problems with his last one. But, his deadline was quickly approaching. He pulled out the old Underwriter. Somehow the metallic clack of keys shifted his muse into overdrive in a way the plastic tick of a computer keyboard never would.
     It was time to get creative. Think of irritating cliff hangers, suave discriptions, and thought provoking inner voices. If only he could find a real compelling villan, with an axe to grind! Then his hero would finally have a worthy opponent, and he would finally be able to unleash his true genius.
     As soon as this thought ran through his mind, an angry old man walked by, wearing a top hat and trench coat, muttering something under his breath. Villanous? Maybe not... but he'll have to do for now.
Back int he day, he'd worked for a rumor rag. He was used to turning safer individuals into criminals, just for the revenue a scandal would bring. It was worth a shot to try it again on the passing stranger. But this person was a young woman. Perhaps she was a new mother or was going to school.
      It didn't matter who she was, she would know the power of the device. He would make it work. He would change the world!

Allow me to Propose a Purpose

This blog will serve as a place to collect the things we write as a group, as well as a place to post assignments and selected responses to those assignments.

Your first assignment is simply to bring a piece of writing you'd like us to critique at the first meeting.

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."