15 September 2008

Dealing with the sudden

Confession: I broke my chair at work today. Ouch. Again.

Reading:
  • "L. DeBard and Aliette: A Love Story," by Lauren Groff
  • The House of Mirth, by Edith Wharton
Writing:
  • "Ferian Fetlock Hitches a Ride" - 1,820 words (Estimated completion 18%)
  • "Ferian Fetlock Catches a Cold" - Outline 100%
Revising:
  • "The Revenant"
  • "Cora and the Sea" - Third draft 50%

Still no word from the Tea lady, unless she called while I was unconscious.

That's a lie, actually. I was never unconscious today. I did have a bit of a spill, though, which got me to thinking about writing. I had gotten up to get something off the printer, came back to my desk, and flopped down in my trusty swivel chair when suddenly...

Right there. See what I did? It's that adverb "suddenly." There's a lot in that little word.

What does it mean? Sudden is the opposite of gradual, so we can think of "suddenly" to mean "involving and abrupt change of state." In my case, the change was from a seated position to sprawled on the floor with a sore head.

What happened in between those two states? Well, as I sat, the chair began to tilt to the left. Metals which had been stressed to the breaking point suddenly snapped, and there was no longer anything keeping the chair, and myself, in a vertical position. Like a hinge, the seat tipped down, bringing me with it, until my skull smacked heartily into the edge of my desk. Meanwhile, I grabbed at anything I could find, the papers I was carrying still clutched in my hands.

Suddenly. You see, when a person (or character) is living a "normal" life, there are certain expectations. Failing to sit correctly is probably not one of them. It takes a certain period of time to process unexpected stimuli, and I only managed to achieve that once I had made it to the floor.

Suddenly. I was the center of attention. I didn't quite know how to react other than to get to my feet and reassure everyone that I was all right. Honestly, I didn't know that for sure myself yet. My head was hurting, but it was distant. The detail I remember the most was the papers I had been carrying, which were tremendously wrinkled from where I grabbed at the desk through them. I remember thinking that perhaps I could photocopy them, and then the copies wouldn't be wrinkled.

In other words, confusion. Suddenly, I was in a different place than I expected to be. It makes me think of video games. (No, I'm not still confused, just follow me.) If you're on one screen, there are a limited number of other places you can go. The computer can preload those screens and have them ready for you, so whichever you pick, the computer can take you there right away.

Suddenly. I had done the equivalent of a warp zone and zapped myself into unknown territory, and the machinery of my brain had to rush to catch up.

Thankfully I was not badly hurt, just a little shaken, and a bit of ice quickly put me to rights. I also got a new chair. Plus, our human resources department probably loves me now for not suing them. So all's well that ends well.

What I've taken from this experience is a way to write those "suddenly" moments. Let the reader think he or she knows what is about to happen, and then take them in an unexpected direction. Are they confused? Good! They should be, and so should your POV character. Give the reader details that maintain interest, of course, but the resolution of that confusion will provide the energy of the scene. Let small, insignificant details stand out, which may provide clues about what's going on, and may not. If you can disorient your reader without getting them lost, you will have succeeded.

Publication Status:
  • Submitted: 5
  • Accepted: 1.20?
  • Rejected: 2
  • Pending: 1.80?

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