What I Learned From… Community

Time once again (Yay!) for Robert Hruzek’s monthly WILF on Middle Zone Musings. This month’s subject is all about community. So, in keeping with the current theme here on A Writer’s Journey, I’ll be discussing what I learned from community in relation to characters.

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Within each community, be it a ‘real life’ community, an online one, or one written into fiction, each person seems to have a place. A position, a status, a ‘rank.’ When creating our characters, it is vitally important that we take these positions into consideration.

From the newbie, to the seasoned veteran within a roleplay community; the king of a country in comparison to a chimney sweeper. All will have certain attitudes on towards the other. When our characters interact, we need to always ask ourselves, “What attitudes would this person have towards that person?”

These will of course then affect how your characters interact, their dialogue, and also their behaviour around each other. All of these things add to how easily your readers can suspend disbelief and ultimately how successful your story/roleplay/novel is.

In regards to how your characters develop (a subject that will be covered later this week), it is important to also consider other communities that already exist. Positions within communities are always shifting. The newbie roleplayer may well become as renowned and respected as those who were the veterans when he/she first joined. The chimney sweep may well find himself married to the king’s only daughter. These will change your characters viewpoint, attitudes and demeanour.

However, you must take into consideration how these changes occur. One does not simply change positions overnight. It is a gradual process that not only requires time, but also work. So too must your characters’ different changes (personality, attitude, even attire) be gradual.

Any community you are in can work as a great study piece for you to ensure you keep your characters within the realms of their ‘rank.’ All you need to do is spend a little time watching. Be it in your school, your work, an online community, or even within your own friendship circle. All communities are similar in this sense; or so I have observed for myself.

What do you think?

Am I talking rubbish? Or does my idle musing here make sense? How do you ensure characters act according to their position? Give me some feedback, I value all your thoughts on this area!

A Change of Perspective

This is a part of my Writing From A Different Focus group-write project. Here, I went for a roleplay post style of writing, but while also shifting the focus away from what would be ‘my’ character. Taking on the role and perspective of a minor, or even unseen, character, I am pushing my boundaries by writing in first person and also be taking the perspective of a by-stander rather than that of the character who is doing the actions pertinent to plot.

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I’d heard tell of late about a man who had the ability to perform such trickery as hadn’t ever been seen in these parts. Magic, they were calling it. I was far too old to believe in such fantasy tales though; I was still at times amazed by how gullible the young were.

Well, despite being in the local tavern for a cold ale after a hard day’s work, I still couldn’t escape the rumours of this foreign fellow. Telling my peers to stop being so foolish, a solitary corner was certainly favourable.

Try as I might, however, no matter how hard I thought about it, something was certainly different about the man who entered the tavern some time after my solitary solace from foolish chatter and whimsical ideas. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

Maybe it was the black clothes. No one wore such colours in these parts; unless at a funeral of some sort, of course. Perhaps his eyes were what caught my attention: A crsytalline azure that, had I knew no better, would have appeared to glow slightly. Certainly, the fellow walked in as though he owned the place; such arrogance I’d not witnessed before. Even the local Lord carried himself with a little more humility and he was well known as a pompous, arrogant fatman.

My eyes and focus were drawn entirely to this stranger and as he walked, no, sauntered, to the bar, I made the assumption I’d had one too many ales as he seemed, for only the moment he spoke to the barkeep, to glow a deep blue. I had to shake my head, trying to kick off the effects of the evening nectar.

He walked upstairs with no change of manner and disappearing from my view, I disregarded the strange man and returned to my relaxation. I did notice, however, a few bangs and scrapes in the upper levels of the building. My attention was once again drawn to the stairs as a loud rumble revealed a tumbling dwarf. He’d obviously been thrown down, the poor little bloke.

Normally, I had no liking for dwarves: They generally were uncouth and with accents deep enough that I never understood them. With a face covered in blood though, I wondered at why someone would want to cause damage to one of the small folk. Then I saw him again.

The man with the azure eyes stalked down the stairs, a piercing stare aimed for the stumbling miner beneath him. I gasped as a grip was had on the beard and the arrogant one dragged his mark from the tavern. I tried to shrink further into my corner, not wanting to get involved with such things.

The knocking over of chairs and drinks caused quite the ruckus, and rightly so. No one moved to prevent the young man continuing his cruelty though. He was dangerous looking, and his eyes were threatening - nobody wanted trouble on a Wednesday evening.

As the two left the tavern, the silence that had been case over the common room was lifted as rumours began to spread once more. I sighed and took another gulp of my ale.

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Whew! That was a challenge and half! Despite being a pretty short scene, taking it from someone’s viewpoint who has no idea about who the character was (my primary roleplay character, by the way: Saladin Akara), what had brought him to that tavern, or what was going to happen afterwards was hard in itself. I’m so used to taking the role of the character being the focus of someone’s attention.

To add to that, I was writing in First Person, which I so very rarely do. All in all, for so short a piece, it took me a whole longer to write than I would perhaps assume it should do.

So, what did I learn? I think one of the important things I learnt was how perspective can entirely change the feel of a scene. Here, for example , my character would have been interacting with the dwarf for reasons far from malicious: He is quite the ‘goody two shoes.’ However, from a stranger’s viewpoint, Saladin is seen as a cruel, rude and violent person, though entirely mysterious to the point of distraction.

This was interesting as I have to ask myself, “What do my readers see from this scene? What I intend when writing from Saladin’s viewpoint, or what the old guy saw?”

An interesting thought, certainly.

Writing From A Different Focus

Sometimes, as a writer, it is far too easy to remain within a defined comfort zone. Whether it be a particular genre of writing, a specific style or a point of view that is essentially the same, we generally are proficient within our writing comfort zones. But as we try to grow as writers, perhaps we should try to step away from our areas of comfort.

A nice excercise in this is to change our focus. Whether this is a change from third person perspective to first or second, or perhaps moving away from scenery descriptives to more motion-orientated work. And maybe even shifting from fiction to non-fiction.

All of these things challenge us and as such make us grow as writers.

A Challenge

As a group writing project, I challenge you push yourself and give writing from a different focus a try.

• Post a new entry on your blog with your writing piece, linking back (in the spirit of community) to this post.
• Give a brief (or not so, it’s your choice) explanation of how what you wrote moved you away from your current comfort zones and a little on how it helped you to grow.
• I’ll (again, in the spirit of community) compile a list of all the entries for reference.
• Please email me a link to your entry at hayhed2k3@gmail.com so I can add you to the list.
• Entries should be received by the end of Sunday 19th April. (I’ll go by EST on this deadline).

Have Fun!

I hope that you all have fun with this little challenge and group-write; I am certainly looking forward to some brilliant reads.

A Personal Essay

Terry Heath recently gave a writing prompt at his blog:

Spend an afternoon in a location (or reflect on one where you’ve been). Explore it thoroughly, then recreate an actual scene you experienced where something you’ve observed ran in strong contradiction with what you expected in this location. Reveal the subjects observed by appearance, action, and dialogue.

This seemed like a nice challenge, and as I am always looking to challenge myself and widen my spectrum of writing, I thought it would be an enjoyable prompt in which to take part.

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As I sat in the Intensive Care Unit of a chlidren’s hospital that specialises in heart surgery the most prominent memory is that of the monitoring equipment: Giving assurance of life, piercing the respectful silence that weighs upon even the most stalwart of hearts.

Little hope was found in the hall of beds, lights darkened, the incessant blips were enough to send any person to the point of insanity. Nurses spoke with a gentle whisper, solemn, humbled, as they sat at their station or visited beds to perform obligatory observations.

Those who were in attendance of their loved ones; sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, all maintained their vigil. Trusting in the skills of doctors and nurses, knowing that they have no control themselves, and remain focused wholly on their own concerns and tribulations.

That was until, from a secluded private room stepped out a slip of a woman. Short, slim, brown-skinned, dressed in the bright colours of garb native to India or Pakistan. The sharp features of the woman focused on the bed at which I sat as she approached my family.

“May I give a blessing for my religion?” Her broken English was a barrier that was easily overcome as an understanding was formed not only of intent but of special circumstance.

“Of course, so long as I can give your son one of our blessings.” My dad spoke to the woman, both their voices sustaining the hushed reverence of such a place as, with some enthusiasm, the unassuming woman agreed.

Retreating back to the small room where her son lay, only a few moments passed until she returned with oils and various other items needed to perform the blessing of her religion.

Speaking in a language I didn’t understand, she offered forth the blessing and prayer to the deity or deities in which she believed. My dad, in turn, disappeared into the secluded private room and, I assume, performed a blessing of my own religion.

It was, while families prepared for possible bereavement, a wonderful and humbling demonstration of selflessness and faith. A sharing of cultures that carried no pretense or bias.

Solitude was transormed in that simple exchange to a feeling of togetherness. Time was sacrificed from vigils that were of utmost importance, and with a kind thanks for the blessings and being able to share faith, lives continued on their separate paths.

A momentary crossing of roads that inspired a small boy.

What I Learned From… Adversity

This is the first group write project I’m taking part in. The “What I Learned From…” groupwrite is a monthly project by Robert Hruzek at Middle Zone Musings and the Adversity theme is outlined here.

So, why do these? For a few reasons:

• Firstly, it will be a challenge to me as a writer and will hopefully help in my growth as such.
• It’s a great way for you, my blog readers, to find out about new places to visit.
• Links back here will help the blog to grow rather nicely.
• It’s fun and will allow me to meet more new people.

The lesson.

I think that for all of us adversity has been a part of our lives at least once. The American Heritage Dictionary defines adversity as, “A state of hardship or affliction; misfortune.” This, I believe, would fit what most people automatically think of. For me, however, I prefer the Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary’s definition of, “Opposition; contrariety.”

In this sense, I think we reach the core of what adversity truly is. It is something either in your control or not that is working in opposition against you acheiving your goals in life. Whether it be abusive parents, difficulties in school, poverty, war, or such conditions as depression. Even writer’s block. All these things are a hindrance to your growth as a person, or writer, or in relation to your desired career path.

Or, to make it a little simpler, adversity is simply hurdles in your path. You have two options, really: Run directly into them, or leap over the hurdle, ready for the next.

This isn’t as easy as it is looks, I know. But no matter the size of the hurdle, it can be done. All it takes is mental, emotional, and sometimes physical, strength to manage that leap of faith. It can be hard at times to know what you’re going to land in, but one thing is for sure - you’ll come out stronger.

Beating writer’s block will reveal to you new ways to keep that creativity flowing, as an example; strengthening your ability to write. Battling depression and winning will help you see new light and joy in life, making it easier to fend off such things in the future: Your defenses are stronger.

And that is what I’ve learned form adversity: Strength.