Editing

Links

http://www.dailywritingtips.com/how-to-revise-edit-and-proofread-your-writing/

http://www.sas.upenn.edu/irp/editing-tips-effective-writing

http://www.writersdigest.com/online-editor/how-to-edit-and-polish-your-writing

 

Summary

1. Look at the surface. Does it look clean and well-written?
2. Proofread three times for spelling and grammar.
3. Uncover the clutter in the writing. Shorten paragraphs to keep them simple, yet interesting.
4. Fill in the cracks.

 

Questions

1. How could you determine whether or not the writing is wordy?
2. How can you find out if the author had a writer’s block?
3. How can you shorten paragraphs?

Endings

Links

http://www.writersdigest.com/online-editor/how-to-structure-a-killer-novel-ending

http://thewritepractice.com/ending-rules/

How To Write The Ending Of Your Novel

Summary

1.  “And they all lived happily ever after” is reserved for children’s fairytales.
2. Surprises are good, but the reader must be satisfied.
3. Don’t make it boring and pointless.
4. You must accept that some genres have expected endings; the characters have to get together in a romance, lest the genre changes.
5. Keep characters alive should you wish a sequel.
6. Don’t forget to end the book, or explain that there will be a sequel. Tie up the loose ends.

Questions

1. How long should the ending be?
2. Should the ending come right after the climax?
3. Should the death of a main character mark the end?

Setting

Links

-http://www.writing-world.com/fiction/settings.shtml

-http://www.tameri.com/write/setting.html

-http://www.writersdigest.com/tip-of-the-day/discover-the-basic-elements-of-setting-in-a-story

Summary

1. Lay down the locale. Bad neighborhood? What are the buildings like?
2. Time is important. What’s the time of year? Time of day?
3. How’s the lighting and temperature?
4. Decide on the geography.
5. Were there ever any historic events there?
6. Decide what the people are like there.

Questions

1. How can the setting affect the story or characters?
2. How long should you focus on describing the setting?
3. When should you describe the setting?

 

Monologue of an SS Officer

The bricks beneath my boots are covered in a thin layer of frost as steam hisses loudly, covering the entire station in a white mist. Despite the thick fabric of my trench coat, I feel a chill as the wind blows on my face, burning my ears and nearly knocking my cap off. My attention is drawn at the sound of shuffling feet and loud shouts, so I look over to see a large group of people in dregs wearing yellow stars, led by my comrades in black. The people all huddle together against the cold, their suitcases pressing against each other. When they reach the platform it is my turn to shout out commands.

I yell to them to mark their luggage with chalk, assuring them that they will see it again when they step off the train. This makes it easier for them to get on, kind of like how they will get a bar of soap to convince them to go further later on when they arrive. They all scrawl their names all over their belongings to make sure that there would be no mix-up. They leave their suitcases on the platform as they cram into every boxcar along the track, their breaths as white as the snow falling around them. When the doors close I see faces poking out from behind the barbed wire windows. They believe they are headed off to another ghetto. I know where they’re going.

The train pulls out of the station with a screech. Those people will travel for a day or so until they reach the next stop. It will be cold, and they most likely won’t be offered food or water, and none of them will be able to sleep. Of course I don’t tell them where they’re actually going, that would cause problems. Nobody tells them, but we all know. It’s also like how instead of being sent with them, their suitcases will be emptied here. All of the clothes, jewelry, and other valuables found inside them will be used to fund the war effort. They won’t need them anyway.

Not where they’re going.

World-Building for “The City of Light”: Behind the Addiction (Not Complete)

I needed to get this off my chest. In addition for clearing up the foggy realm that is Erika, this will help a great deal when I intend to reflect back to before Erika was a one-way street to self-destruction.

Erika met Alistair at a seminar about the effects of drugs and how to prevent addiction six years ago. As a student of a law university, Erika was there strictly for studying purposes. Alistair on the other hand was there to receive insight on addictions for the book he was writing. They sat beside each other, and after a few dates after learning how intriguing each other was, they started to live together.

A few happy months passed before something changed inside Erika, physically and mentally. Alistair didn’t know it at the time, but Erika was pregnant. Unfortunately, Erika had also developed major depression, thus beginning her spiral downwards.

http://www.visualthesaurus.com/landing/?utm_source=ddc.large&utm_medium=html5

Character Sketch

Too hot, I thought to myself.The sun brought it’s dry wrath upon the desert sands of the Valley the day I left for Quesnel. For eight hours, the sky gleamed an azure hue above the massive craggy mountains, bringing life to the seemingly dead landscape. Sage bushes dotted the dusty hills and rocky mountainsides, but I never saw a single tumbleweed. Wasn’t hot enough, I figured. I really didn’t understand how that was possible.

The heat was sweltering. I heard people from all age groups sigh and pant as the sun heated up the Greyhound bus, cooking us. As people shed their layers to reveal sweat-stained underclothing, all I could think of were onions, as the smell that marinated us and stuck to our clothes was suspiciously similar. The air around me was thick from the heat, and just looking at the other passengers made me feel sticky and in desperate need of a shower. The overworked wheels made a constant whirring sound, never really allowing me to sleep, and bringing up large amounts of dust that dirtied the sun that came through the tinted windows. Any attempt to sleep by using my arm as a pillow was shot down, and I didn’t wish to lean my seat back, either. People were behind me, and they were sleeping peacefully. My legs were fully exposed to the rough, itchy fabric that was the seat cushion, making me seethe with anger.

I wanted to change my clothing, but I couldn’t with my perfumed, sweater-clad, elderly sitting-partner having the freedom of turning her head from the wonders of the desert outside to the uncomfortable, itchy teenager beside her. I resorted to putting my coat under my legs. Not ten minutes later, however, the azure of the desert hid itself behind a thick curtain of gray, freezing all below it. The sweat on my body cooled down, freezing the ever-living hell out of me, but I had to chose between itchy legs or frozen arms. Goosebumps covered my flesh for an extra five hours before I stepped off the bus to cover my shoes in the dust of the sleepy town of Quesnel.

 

World-Building for “The City of Light”

“The City of Light”

Setting: “Ciudad de Luz” or “Luz”, a grimy, crime-ridden city with a population of about five million.

Characters:

Erika Frost: A detective-turned-vigilante who kills off hard criminals the police are looking for. She uses drugs to quell her depression, despite the negative effects it could have on her daughter, Hope, and her best friend Mathew. She hates Ciudad de Luz and wants to leave with Hope, but the addiction of killing criminals keeps her cemented. Her main character traits are: Headstrong, stubborn, independent, and impulsive.

Mathew Steele: A detective who is Erika’s best friend. He knows about her night-time activities and her addiction, but rather than telling the police, he gives her much-needed emotional support and often takes care of Hope. His main character traits are: Cautious, selfless, strong, and serious.

Alistair Summers: A well-off author who happens to be Hope’s biological father. He was intimate with Erika a few times, but ever since the start of her descent into depression (and soon after, her drug-use), he left her for his own safety. However, in finding out that Erika had his child, he had been trying to gain custody ever since, to protect Hope from the ticking time-bomb that is her mother. His main character traits are: Persistent.

Hope Frost: The young, but bright daughter of Erika and Alistair. She always seems to make Erika happier when she’s around, despite her addiction and condition. She sees Mathew as a father-figure, as she has never really known Alistair. Her main character traits are: Innocent and young.

Friday Night Gurus by Studio Killers

Thought I should upload something for the spirit of the weekend. I implore you to listen.

(Hey Watson, if you’re looking for my “Three Styles of Writing” and are still willing to accept it look below this post!)

Three Styles of Writing

A bored 52 year-old housewife: The dull grey of the steel appliances is too familiar. I have spent most of my married life here, freezing my feet on the floor till they themselves have become as hard as the tiles I step on. I refuse to believe that my life has been wasted. The neighbors seem to think that with the application of women’s rights fifty years ago I should be out working a desk job or even a profession, and that’s the problem. I want to. 

A 23 year-old hipster: The yellow of the streetlamps outside burn through the night and into my kitchen. The light reflects off of the glass of the black and white picture frames littering my walls gently, continuing to bathe the room and all of it’s appliances in a dim hue. The old lightbulb in the lamp above my head doesn’t do much for lighting the entire room anymore, but it does help with letting me see my typewriter’s keys as I sit at the breakfast table working. The stack of paper beside my coffee mug is two years of my life put into print, and I’m not going to stop any time soon. 

A 35 year-old PTSD widower: The paint above the stove is unwashed and thick with grease as I sit by the breakfast table, immovable. I stare across from me to the seat once filled by my wife as I remember that I have to take my pills. The cat-shaped breadbox and the rooster-print tea towels watch me with apathy as I breathe in the dusty air, catching a subtle hint of perfume and blood. I open the drawer beside the fridge to grab my pill box, but without thinking I pick up the bottle of pill box refills along with it. I sit back down again, and in staring at my wife’s chair for the last time I dry-swallow my pills and half of the refills before collapsing beside my wife’s body, sprawled face-down on the floor.    

A RANT THAT NEEDS ALL CAPITAL LETTERS IN THE TITLE

I want you to think about sitting in a locked trailer with fifty other people. It’s 45 C outside which is causing the backed-up toilet’s stench and the pungent aroma of sweaty humans to mix together and marinate everything inside the trailer like a sick pressure-cooker. People are giving birth left and right, but with hardly any food besides the rotting, dead bodies of your roommates that couldn’t last, most of the newborns die. Most of these people are related to you by blood, and you’re sure that the person making suggestive eyes at you is your inbred cousin.

Now on top of all that, add “not able to breathe or see properly because of widespread bacteria all around you, filling the thick, murky air” to the list. Your last instructions are to replace the human element with cat elements. Yes, this does happen, and yes, it could be that weird cat-lady down the block with a coat which seems to be made out of house-pet fur. Many people in the US and Canada are hoarders, but some of them go to new lows as to hoard cats or other animals, and for some reason a common pattern is to lock them all in a confined area of a house in the desert. Usually, cat hoarding starts by the owner having two or more cats who end up breeding, but the owner refuses to give away the kittens or spay or neuter the parents.

It seems to be less punishable to hoard cats than when someone hoards people, like a human trafficker. Don’t get me wrong, human trafficking is a sick, disgusting profession and I approve of tying a cinder-block to the feet of those found guilty and throwing them over the dock and into the ocean, but animal hoarding is sick and disgusting, too. People seem to focus less on the fact that animals can feel as much physical pain as humans do, possibly because they don’t care, or that they simply don’t know. We can change this without trapping people in locked, messy trailers to make a point, but instead by showing the animals that have been hurt by a hoarder’s actions to the public.