I've been applying some dream elements to my story ideas lately. When I give myself some time in the morning to lounge in bed, dipping in and out of consciousness, I have the most vivid dreams and remember them well enough to jot a few notes down, if I feel they make any sense.
I remember reading a quote by Neil Gaiman on turning dreams into stories. His take is that dreams make very poor stories, because they only make sense to the dreamer. It's obviously very difficult to describe a dream to someone because the most absurd things happen in very mystical ways. You know how it goes: "So, I was in a car with my friend, and we fell off a bridge, and then we died, and then we were in a submarine house with no doors, trying to get out, and that's when Seth Green showed up..." Usually the reaction I get when I try to tell a dream is a raised eyebrow and a series of "alrighty thens." But, guys, some of them are wacky and action-packed and totally bestseller material! Like the one where I was caught on an urban battlefield, trying to escape the war between humans and robot-Nazis. I'm thinking of pitching that one to Steven Spielberg.
Seriously, though, I think dreams are great idea generators. Why not take dream elements and play with them to see how they could work in a story? Stephenie Meyer has said she got her inspiration for Twilight from a dream image of two lovers deep in conversation in a forest glade. (I know, this is the second time I bring Mrs. Meyer up in my posts. The truth is, I can rip on her as much as I want, but her books have, after all, made her a gazillionaire. She's clearly doing something right.)
You just have to be careful that the way you write the story makes sense. Unless you're the reincarnation of Lewis Carroll, avoid writing your story like a dream. It seems people don't like to suspend disbelief for novels as much as they do for movies. (Note: I like Steven James' comments on making your narrative world believable in this article.) We are used to the modern writing of commercial novels based on a certain formula, and anything outside the norm is considered "experimental." Sadly, I'm learning that if your goal is to be published, you've got to stick to what sells.
Related reading:
When I was a teenager, I was very interested in metaphysical art and the occult in writing. On a whim I picked up a copy of Aleister Crowley's Moonchild, written in 1917. As I found out later, the book is possibly his most well-known work and is a must-read for anyone studying all things "magick." And it is quite a mindfuck. Though I approached it with an open mind, the book really turned me off with its disjointed storyline and an anticlimactic ending. I remember wondering if it was based on a dream, or if Crowley was on drugs (most likely), or if I was missing some hidden meanings behind the metaphysical musings (most definitely). I have talked myself out of more than one nonsensical story idea, remembering Crowley's demented writing. I wonder if I would be able to see it more for what it was meant now, as an adult. I have the feeling I wouldn't have the patience to get through it these days.
Another unconventional novel I've read that centers on dreams is The Blue Flowers (Les fleurs bleues) by French novelist Raymond Queneau, written in 1965. Even though it was assigned reading for French class in high school, I loved reading this amusing, gentle tale. The Blue Flowers is the story of two protagonists, one from modern times and the other from the Middle Ages, and how they dream of one another. At least, it appears they do - we cannot be sure they aren't the same person, or that either is actually "real" at all. Queneau's inspiration for the story was the Chinese saying: "I dream that I am a butterfly and pray there is a butterfly dreaming of me." Lovely food for thought.
March 21, 2011
March 15, 2011
What's In a Name?
...A lot, when you read a book.
In real life, the name your parents give you means about as much as your zodiac sign (unless you cite the Freakonomics study of race and names, but I won't go there). Let's take mine, for instance. When I think of an archetypal Brooke, I imagine an all-American blonde, upper-middle class child of the 80s who plays soccer and loves her sorority sisters. Which is about as me as a hairy-nosed wombat.
Of course, names are subjective. We usually associate them with people we've known for a long time, or with people who have made an impact on our lives. Brooke could evoke a totally different type of person for you. We've all known dozens of Michaels who each have very distinct personalities from the others. My point: a birth name doesn't make a person.
In fiction, however, characters are exaggerated. Everything about them is meticulously architected by the author, including their names. The meaningful choice of name is an obvious manipulation tactic, but it is one the reader expects.
In my opinion, the best and most obvious example of an author using names to enhance storytelling is J.K. Rowling (duh!). I love that her choices are unusual and diverse, but what's most interesting is how she plays with sounds. Most noticeably, her use of alliteration, especially with double letters, creates fantastic characters and adds to the stories' subtle splashes of humor. Quirinus Quirrel is a brilliant example. My personal favorite sound plays include the letters f and g, such as Helga Hufflepuff or Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank. Can you really keep yourself from smiling at those creative gems? Using hilarious names such as these along with other humorous details, Rowling adds light to an otherwise very serious plot.
As I mentioned in my previous post, I usually build my stories around characters. Whether this is recommended, I'm not sure (given how much trouble I have with plot resolution, perhaps it is not the best method), but that's just my natural tendency. Characters and their personalities, and thus their names, are crucial. If this element in a novel is weak, how can you get into the story?
Anyway, my question is this: if names make a persona, should you look for a name first, and then follow with crafting the character? Or will this result in two-dimensional stereotypes instead of original characters? I wonder if there is a "best" formula for assigning names and personalities. I suppose it is really up to the individual to add the magic dust that gives life to memorable characters.
There is so much material here that full dissertations could be written (and probably have been) on character names in fiction. In fact, maybe I should do a little more research on the topic. Today I spent way too much time thinking about names and trying them on like hats. I should probably focus on putting the pieces of my story together to make a cohesive whole, instead of letting loose ideas float around in my various notes.
Or I could sit around and dream up pen names.
In real life, the name your parents give you means about as much as your zodiac sign (unless you cite the Freakonomics study of race and names, but I won't go there). Let's take mine, for instance. When I think of an archetypal Brooke, I imagine an all-American blonde, upper-middle class child of the 80s who plays soccer and loves her sorority sisters. Which is about as me as a hairy-nosed wombat.
Of course, names are subjective. We usually associate them with people we've known for a long time, or with people who have made an impact on our lives. Brooke could evoke a totally different type of person for you. We've all known dozens of Michaels who each have very distinct personalities from the others. My point: a birth name doesn't make a person.
In fiction, however, characters are exaggerated. Everything about them is meticulously architected by the author, including their names. The meaningful choice of name is an obvious manipulation tactic, but it is one the reader expects.
In my opinion, the best and most obvious example of an author using names to enhance storytelling is J.K. Rowling (duh!). I love that her choices are unusual and diverse, but what's most interesting is how she plays with sounds. Most noticeably, her use of alliteration, especially with double letters, creates fantastic characters and adds to the stories' subtle splashes of humor. Quirinus Quirrel is a brilliant example. My personal favorite sound plays include the letters f and g, such as Helga Hufflepuff or Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank. Can you really keep yourself from smiling at those creative gems? Using hilarious names such as these along with other humorous details, Rowling adds light to an otherwise very serious plot.
 |
| Peter Pettigrew was picked on by his peers. What a pernicious person he was! |
As I mentioned in my previous post, I usually build my stories around characters. Whether this is recommended, I'm not sure (given how much trouble I have with plot resolution, perhaps it is not the best method), but that's just my natural tendency. Characters and their personalities, and thus their names, are crucial. If this element in a novel is weak, how can you get into the story?
Anyway, my question is this: if names make a persona, should you look for a name first, and then follow with crafting the character? Or will this result in two-dimensional stereotypes instead of original characters? I wonder if there is a "best" formula for assigning names and personalities. I suppose it is really up to the individual to add the magic dust that gives life to memorable characters.
There is so much material here that full dissertations could be written (and probably have been) on character names in fiction. In fact, maybe I should do a little more research on the topic. Today I spent way too much time thinking about names and trying them on like hats. I should probably focus on putting the pieces of my story together to make a cohesive whole, instead of letting loose ideas float around in my various notes.
Or I could sit around and dream up pen names.
March 11, 2011
I (heart) Character Development
I really have always had a passion for developing characters. When I was a wee lass, I wanted to write stories, but more often than not came up with character profile pages. And instead of writing, I would draw these imaginary friends for hours on end, until my interest in them was spent.
In more recent years, my fascination with characters was transferred to my love of MMORPGs. My boyfriends always chuckled at the time and care I would give to my video game heroes' appearance - and at the impracticality of having 7 different characters that I could never possibly get to the end game. [It's true, the closest I ever got was within 8 levels of maxing out the character before I ran out of steam and switched to another.]
Come to think of it, I haven't played any MMOs in quite a while. What's interesting is how addictive they are. Every few days I still feel a slight tug to pick up World of Warcraft. And pretty soon The Old Republic is coming out, which means Jamie and I will be spending less snuggle time, more kicking virtual ass time.
Yet I'm starting to think that this time away from the instant gratification of MMOs is doing me some good. The more time I spend daydreaming and putting story lines together, the closer I am getting to having a fully developed fiction story! Without the constant red-eyed-zombie "MUST...KILL...HORDE" fog to keep my creative side occupied, I've been able to massage and coax my atrophied imagination back from limbo. I just know I have years of tidbits stored in there somewhere.
...Old Republic...This means I have mere weeks to write my novel before I revert back into a hunchbacked, sleepless, Ramen-eating, Dr. Pepper-guzzling adolescent gamer. Wish me luck!
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