characters - two halves of a whole.

the way i see it, every good character has their "accomplice."

brotherhood.

okay, no, not the type of brotherhood that goes around assassinating people or anything, but a TRIAD. and by that, i also do not mean the chinese mafia. nope, nothing like that at all. ...although half of the triad is chinese if that counts for anything.

fading/vanishing characters.

so one thing i know that i'm good at is being super negligent and leaving characters out.

likeably unlikeable.

so after reading the description of what we're Actually Supposed to Be Doing, things make a lot more sense. and i also was somewhat on the right track.

unlikeable characters.

what exactly makes a character unlikeable?

emotions (or lack thereof), handling of social situations, mannerisms, quirks, interpersonal skills, extreme extroversion/introversion, the list goes on and on. but then what makes an unlikeable character likeable? there's some redeeming factor, i think... maybe Showing the Sweet Side, Honor of Discipline, something that just endears the character to us. just how to weave two of those factors together is the problem.

yearning inspirations.

i think i will maybe have characters with yearnings based off of these song lyrics.

"please don't be in love with someone else. please don't have somebody waiting on you."
bits:
how could she have missed him? such a witty, funny, humorous person, such a free soul, so much of everything that she wanted? how on earth could she have not seen him before? the night they had spent talking, laughing, and just enjoying each other's company had shown her how much they fit. but as he walked her to her car in the parking lot, she realized that he... they wouldn't see each other again. they were just two strangers in a bar. how they met was just chance. she had heard of love at first sight, but hadn't really believed in it until now. now, she never wanted to leave his side, she wanted to spend forever with him having nights just like these. she squeezed her eyes shut before she started her car. please don't be in love with someone else. i don't think i could bear it.


"you said that you loved me, so why did you go?" (this one isn't as good, oops.)
bits:
his sweatshirt, his scarf, his sweatpants. she had put them on and then just sat and cried in the middle of her room. why did you go? those were the things that she had bought for him, and they turned out to be his favorites. he liked them so much he decided he would let his favorite person keep them--so there would be just a place where he could be safe from the world. they still smelled like him. soon, with all this crying, they wouldn't. she sniffed, rubbing her tearstained eyes. all that she had lived for, breathed for, had come crashing down in just one night.

a thanks, and reflections.

to those who responded to mobile2: need. i really appreciated your comments--it was uplifting to me.

also, the stories so far. they are interesting. both have taken interesting viewpoints on traditional things. a second-person view, and then a charmed life view on the question of what is reality. what i must say though that really irks and upsets me is when the characters are flat, one-dimensional, and have no yearning. as professor cross said, yearning is what drives the character. without yearning, the character is still words, a flat being with no life, no direction, no anything. the character is still words. it is our duty as writers to find, mold, and create our characters with their flaws. characters are supposed to be a portrait of the human news, about people's shortcomings. if characters do not have flaws or yearnings, they are one dimensional, still letters on a page. only once a character has things that hurt them, things that they yearn for, and shortcomings that inhibit them do they become a full-fledged character, a magical being woven from words that lives and breathes.

that is our duty as writers. to show the human news in our characters, to create worlds woven from words that live and breathe. that, friends, is what writing is.

edit:
elapse is a beautiful story. the time passage is done amazingly, it moves like a song. this is probably the best story i've read so far, the first to move me to tears. second person draws me in like nothing other, and there is so much attachment built up with the characters that i didn't even realize until the tears almost fell from my eyes. so a congratulations to you, dear sir!

ze swimmer. ;)

to all of you who know my secrets, this one was a fun one. well... at least the title was, hahahaha. :) (you know who you are~)

i liked this story. even though ned was kinduva delusional person who crashed random people's yards to swim in their pools (i'm in your yard, swimmin' in yo' pool). also, crash their parties. i really liked how cheever didn't just give us all there was to know about ned as the story opened--the reader gradually learns more and more about the character until we can finally figure out what happened in the end. that's why i love stories! they're like mysteries and i love mysteries so much. maybe that's why i like psych and bones question mark? the ending was kinda sad too. also, i was questioning reality the more that i learned about ned OHNOINCEPTIONATTACKAHHHHHHHH and yeah. zat is all.

muse:martin.

the little post cards! they were so fun to write. i read mine aloud in class but yeah, i wanted to post it here because it was fun to write and yeah. i want to remember it question mark.

muse:
running through the woods, breathless, briars reaching with insistent hands at her clothing almost whispering, "slow down, my sweet, slow down." she screams before something trips her and makes her fall on her bad leg. the pain jerks her awake, and janet eyes the sterile white hospital room around her. her ankle throbs in rhythm with the heart monitor. sighing, she clutches her head. what got her in here? oh, right. martin.

honestly, it had started out like any other day. she woke up grumpy, ate breakfast grumpy, and went to school grumpy. all the previous night before going to bed, she had vowed that she wouldn't do anything stupid in front of him (and hopefully, this didn't count). martin had said "hi" to her from across the courtyard and janet had been so happy and enthralled that she missed the first step of the descending stairs. then the next, and the next, and suddenly she was close friends with pain and the ground. martin, being the nice guy he was, offered to drive her to the hospital. yes, this was all his fault.

ep:if you snark and muse:record

so, i was considering things to write about for abp#5 and was thinking "douche" and along the lines of that is "let your lab partner collect data all by himself while you go out to lunch and totally don't help him at all." said person that is being addressed doesn't seem to really mind what happened, although i and certain others feel very inflamed and up-in-arms about it. why do people suck, seriously? when people pull their weight, things work. but when they don't people get angry. also, another thing that pisses me off is when people complain, but do not have a solution slash are not planning the stupid thing. homecoming planning for dinner was extremely difficult, people, SO DO NOT SNARK AT ME IF YOU DON'T ENJOY THE RESTAURANT. YOU MAY GO EAT DINNER BY YOURSELF AND THEN COME TO THE DANCE WITH THAT FABULOUS SNARKY ATTITUDE AND THEN DANCE BY YOURSELF IN THE CORNER. 


anyway.
a muse. once again inspired by the ending of bones.
muse:
i'd told her that he likes records, especially a certain one by a certain band. the record itself turned different colors when the light hit it at different angles, making for a rather psychedelic effect. i knew he'd love it, but it wasn't my place to give it to him.

that night, we were all sitting around in their comfortably cramped apartment, waiting for him to come home. wine glasses were on the table, and all of us (me, her, and our two friends) were sipping our drinks. white dessert wine, the type that is sweet and then kicks you in the mouth as a reward. the black leather couches were warm and comfortable, and i thought that i could never bring myself to stand up. as the door clicks open, our two friends stand up. they manage to mumble something before pushing their way out the doorway. it's just me, him, and her left. he notices the iridescent record on a table next to the couch.

"what's this?"

"oh, avery told me that you love records. especially this band, and it has your favorite song on it."

she stands up, padding her way over to his side.

"look, it even changes color when you move it around!"

he smiles broadly, winningly. i beam.

"thanks!"

"you're welcome," she and i both answer. they don't seem to hear me, and they kiss simply, but lovingly. i can almost hear my heart shattering on the ground, but this is not my place. i cannot cry here, this is not my place.

"i... i should go. i'll see you tomorrow, glass."

i pick my things up, and i'm almost out the door. his voice grabs my ears, stopping me.

"no, wait, you should stay for dinner."

"yeah," she agrees. "we have enough space for you."

"i'll make that lamb dish i know you like," glass says, his eyes showing something. somehow, i think he's on to me. but that's purely speculation. after all, i just deal with the facts.

"no thanks. you see, normally the first time two people sharing a domicile have dinner together, the person who doesn't live there leaves. so... i'll see you tomorrow."

i turn to face the door, push it open, and brush out without much ceremony. i haven't noticed that devon has followed me until he calls my name.

"avery!"

i whirl around, careful to plaster on an indifferent face.

"yeah?"

he's silent for a moment before mumbling, "see you tomorrow."

i try to smile, i really do, as hard as i can.

"yeah. good night."

as i turn around, i swear he's on to me. he's on to me, but for some reason, the door clicks shut behind me.

life at the edge of makeout meadow

big john bosh sighs, slumping into his familiar, creaky old wooden rocking chair. he eyes his new surroundings—a lush meadow filled with many birds. a perfect place for him to live. the retired soldier sighs again, breathing in the fresh, verdant air. 

sure, he thinks, this isn’t as great as the backwoods of alabama, but I’m sure moving up to carrillon point was a good choice. he smiles tiredly, shifting back and forth to rock his chair.

a flock of birds rises noisily from the field, stirring big john back into reality from his slight snooze. he sees a couple of high schoolers doing god-knows-what among the flowers. maybe the birds and the bees finally learned to coexist here, he muses, a small disgusted smirk sneaking onto his face. the old man picks himself up out of his chair with obvious effort, tromps down the stairs, and wades through the calf-high grass. his footsteps barely make a sound as he reaches the teenage couple.

"hello?” he calls quietly.

the two students stop in their snogging, blushing a bright crimson.

“huh-huh-hi, sir,” the boy manages to stutter.

“you can call me big john,” the old soldier says, smiling with his entire face.

“hi, big john!” the girl chirps.

big john’s breath catches in his throat—her voice sounds exactly like his old wife’s.

“leave this field,” he orders sternly. “and never come back.”

the two stand up abruptly and run, their feet rustling in the grass. big john stares after them before plodding back to his small cabin through the ocean of unexotic fauna. 

two kinds (of cheese?)

so. amy tan. the instant i saw that, i was like this is guaranteed to be good. which it was. i've read this story by her before (in 7th grade) and i remember the general gist of the story. but it was fun to read it again.

the narrator's yearnings change throughout the story. she starts off wanting the same thing as her mother: prodigy-dom. (that's so not a word.) she tries with her whole heart only to find that she cannot succeed in the shirley temple fashion. as her mother continues to pull this prodigy out of her, her yearnings change. she wants her mother to accept her as she is. this leads to a bitter argument, although things are slightly reconciled before the narrator's mother dies.

as for my personal connection to the story, i found it resonating a lot with me.
there are many times that i just want to scream at my parents "i'm this way because of you!" when they rag on me for something. i also want to yell "sorry that you can't have that perfect child you were expecting" because... quite frankly, i feel like i'm always striving to do what is "best" in their eyes. when things don't go according to their plan, they fuss. it's annoying. i'm not good enough for my mom, because apparently i don't "talk about the right things" with my friends. the "right things" being "where are you going to college?" or "what did you get on the sat/act?" or "what are you doing over the summer?" those things, while some are okay to ask, i feel are off limits. some people just don't like others finding out what they're doing as it is some sort of invasion of privacy. which would explain why i don't really know anybody very well, i just know lots of people at a superficial level. and to my dad, i never do anything right. driving, it's "you parked horribly!" or "that turn was way too sharp!" schoolwork, it's slightly less but more "why didn't you get an a? do we have to go in to talk to your teacher?" or "why don't you get this? i could do this in like 10 minutes!" (and then he goes and takes forever on it.) i think i'm slightly able to be more myself at school. i let loose my craziness (although it's slightly less now) and people see me for who i (kinda) really am. whew. that was a rant. definitely.

cs3

this one is based off the fact that today at youth group, my cousin said i looked "very seductive" with my blue button-down shirt open. which made me crack up. honest opinions? seductive with the shirt open?

cs:
he walks in to the building confidently, a slight bounce in his step. his swagger although self-assured, shows a hint of humility. some of the girls there already turn and look at him. they blush when his smile flashes there way. his dark-washed bootcut jeans loosely constrict his legs, showing an ipod in his right pocket and a cellphone in his left. he tosses his head, running his hands through his hair. he has an earbud in, his open hand tapping against his thigh in rhythm to the current song playing. his white shirt hugs his torso, revealing a somewhat slim build. the navy blue button-down is left completely open, blowing slightly behind him as he walks. he greets his friend easily, waving in a small manner and grinning slightly. his face flushes as the friend comments on his shirt, fidgeting with his headphone wires nervously. he answers slowly, cautiously, and then waggles his eyebrows. it's the friend's turn to blush and chuckle. he claps his friend on the back, and saunters on over to the ladies.

cs2

well, why not do another one. to practice details.

she brushes brusquely into the classroom, her serious demeanor betraying nothing but the sentiment of, "let's get down to business." (whether she wants to defeat the huns or not is another question.) her stern steps have a slight bounce to them, giving her a confident swagger. she pushes her hair back behind her ear with a small, careful hand before sitting down. she greets her friend, a smile lighting itself on her lips. it's contagious, and spreads to her friend's mouth as well. the teacher starts class of with a joke, and she throws her head back and laughs without restriction. but below the surface, she squirms. the joke pokes fun at people in relationships. fresh out of one, she's a little uncomfortable with it. she tries to hide it with her beautiful smile. her phone buzzes, indicating a text message from a friend. she looks at the message--it's one of her best friends.

u alrite? u didn't look so great yesterday.


her smile falls, and for an instant, the world is only her. she enters her response into the phone quickly, avoiding the teacher's sight.

i guess so... long story tho, can i tell you latr?


she closes her coffee-colored eyes and sighs softly. the vibrating of her mobile makes her jump. not noticeably though. her seat in the back of the classroom hides her enough from the attention of others that she doesn't have to worry about the teacher calling her out in the middle of class. not that he would, anyway.

sure. i'm here for you--call if you need me. <3 ya


the corners of her mouth turn slightly upwards. best friends rule.

a&p... how 'bout b&r? and muse:already gone

just finished reading a&p.
this was another thing like hemingway's, making a story out of the mundane. however, updike's story seemed to flow a little bit better to me. the descriptions were very vivid, so the scene unfolded rather smoothly in my mind. going back to our discussion yesterday on who exactly were the characters, it seems that sammy (the narrator), stokesie, lengel, "queenie," and the girls. i consider "big tall goony-goony" (best impromptu name ever) a character even though she didn't talk, as she was part of queenie's group. the girls seemed to not be as much separate characters as much as queenie's minions, so they were very minor characters.
additionally. i shall never view vanilla ice cream the same ever again.

muse:
she had wanted to be with him for the longest time. he was her crush, after all. being a hormonal teenager, the world revolved around him and all he did. she would get flutters in her chest every time he looked at her, smiled that crooked smile and mumbled a shy "hi." every time she hung up after a phone call with him, she would fall into a blissful reverie. so when they finally came together, she thought she would be happy.

she was so wrong.

two days in, and their first fight. it was over something trivial and stupid, but it still broke her heart. that night, there was no phone call, no dreaming, just emptiness. the next day, though, they continued on as if it never happened. from then on, that was how they existed. teasing until tears, lather, rinse, and repeat.
even after their first kiss, the cycle continued. but she was already so deep, she didn't want to get out. so when he finally decided to end things then and there, she refused.

"no," she had argued. "we can make it through. we love each other, we can make it!"
he only shook his head before turning around.
"i love you so much. i love you so much that i want what's best for you. and what's best for you is life without me in it."
and as his footsteps echoed through the empty school hallway, she knew that as he left, so did her heart.