#FineArtFriday: Sommarnöje (Summer Fun) by Anders Zorn 1886

Sommarnöje_(1886),_akvarell_av_Anders_ZornArtist: Anders Zorn  (1860–1920)

Title: (Swedish: Sommarnöje)  (English: Summer Fun)

Genre: marine art

Date: 1886

Medium: watercolor paint on paper

Dimensions: height: 76 cm (29.9 in)

Collection: Private collection

Place of creation: Dalarö, Sweden

Inscriptions: Signature and date bottom left: Zorn -86

What I love about this painting:

This image, the way the lake is shown, took me back to my childhood. I grew up in a house that faced directly onto a large lake, with a wide beach for swimming, a wooden dock, and few neighbors. The southern Puget Sound area experiences more overcast days in June than most people like. Many days, the waters and the sky looked exactly as Anders Zorn has depicted them here.

Zorn’s brushwork is so meticulous, it is nearly photographic. He captures the feeling of the day, of the breeze, slightly sharp but not too cold, and the anticipation of going out on the water.

About this painting, via Wikipedia:

Zorn painted Sommarnöje in Dalarö in the early summer of 1886, after the couple had returned from honeymoon but before they settled in Mora. He made a smaller sketch first, which measures 30.2 by 18.8 centimeters (11.9 in × 7.4 in), now held by the Zorn Museum in Mora.

The completed watercolor captures a fleeting moment and shows influence from the works of the French Impressionists that Zorn had seen while in Paris, but with a distinctively austere Scandinavian palette.

The painting depicts the artist’s wife Emma Zorn standing in a white dress and hat, waiting on the edge of a wooden pier beside the water, as their friend Carl Gustav Dahlström approaches in a rowing boat.

The reflective glassy surface of the water is rippling in a breeze, under cloudy grey skies. The figures, pier, boat and sea are finely rendered, almost as if the work was made in oil paint, showing Zorn’s skill as a watercolorist. Less attention is paid to the other side of the lake, sketched roughly in the background. It is signed and dated in the lower left corner, “Zorn 86”.

It was acquired by Edvard Levisson of Gothenburg, and then descended through the Schollin-Borg family. The painting was sold at the Stockholms Auktionsverk in June 2010 for SEK 26 million, setting a record for a Swedish painting.

About the Artist, via Wikipedia:

Zorn was born in Mora, Sweden, between the lakes of Siljan and Orsasjön. He studied at the Royal Swedish Academy of Arts in Stockholm from 1875 to 1880, and then spent time travelling in Europe, painting watercolours and society portraits in London, Paris and Madrid.

He returned to Sweden in 1885, and on 16 October, he married Emma Zorn (née Lamm) (1860 – 1942). After spending their honeymoon abroad, in eastern Europe and Turkey, they returned to Sweden in 1886, spending time with Emma’s family at Dalarö, before settling near Mora, where their house, which is now the home of the Zorn Collections, is located.


Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Sommarnöje (1886), akvarell av Anders Zorn.jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Sommarn%C3%B6je_(1886),_akvarell_av_Anders_Zorn.jpg&oldid=842907051 (accessed February 29, 2024).

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “Sommarnöje,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Sommarn%C3%B6je&oldid=1149795747 (accessed February 29, 2024).

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Emotional show and tell part 2 – motivation #writing

Speaking just for myself, I’d have to say that I feel undermotivated most days. Yeah, there’s battling the dragon that is my laundry pile and the eternal quest to find the bottom of the laundry hamper.

MyWritingLife2021Then, there’s hunting down and killing the trash and recycling so that we don’t live in a slum, alongside the unlovely side-quest for a clean bathroom. I do these tasks, but they don’t “bring me joy.” I do them so I can get to the good stuff, the best part of the day—which is writing.

Bet you didn’t see that one coming!

I always have multiple projects in the works. This last week, I had a brainstorm that set me in the direction I need to go in order to finish writing the second half of a long novel that has been in the works since 2016. It will be a duology, and while the first half is completed, the second half is barely started. I refuse to publish the first half until the second is ready to go. Readers want the complete story.

The problem I have had with this story is plotting the second half. I have plotted the high points and events, but why must Character B go to such an out-of-the-way place?

Maas_Emotional_Craft_of_FictionMotivations drive emotions, and emotions drive the plot. People have reasons for their actions, and I needed to give my bad guy a good one. Now I know why he must go there.

B has enemies, more than merely our protagonist. A sub faction, a group acting alone, secretly hopes to stop him. Therefore, someone in B’s inner circle, a person he relies on, will die as the result of a botched assassination attempt on B’s life.

  1. This death must be laid squarely at the protagonist’s hands (wrongly in this case), and that will stoke the hatred Character B already feels for Character A.
  2. B is aware that he needs muscle, a company of super soldiers to fill out his army. But he is a traditionalist, and they must be of the tribes. His tribeless soldiers are somewhat trained but don’t really know how to fight. Thus, he needs these highly trained, uber-traditional soldiers, and he needs a lot of them.

In December, I wrote a post, Motivation, and the Council of Elrond. It explores what lies behind each character’s actions and reasoning. Frodo and Samwise end up going to Mount Doom alone, and the Council of Elrond foreshadows the events that occur to make this happen.

And I will just say this now – Boromir had to die because his death raises the stakes and is one of the most heart-wrenching scenes in the book.

emotionwordslist01LIRF06232020Sometimes, the story demands a death, and 99% of the time, it can’t be the protagonist. But death must mean something, wring emotion from us as we write it. Since the characters we have invested most of our time into are the antagonist and protagonist, we must allow a beloved side character to die.

Character B’s motivations must be clearly defined. Killing a side character can’t be only a means of livening up a stale plot. If a character must die, even a side character, it must galvanize the other characters, force them to action.

And most of all, I want to feel as if I have lost a dear friend when that side character dies.

It must be an organic part of the storyline, move the other characters, and force them to action. Thus, the character who must die in my novel was doomed from the first moment I decided to add them to the mix.

I’ve said this before, but we form our characters out of Action and Reaction. It’s a kind of chemistry that happens on multiple levels.

  • It occurs within the story as the characters interact with each other.
  • At the same time, the chemistry happens within the reader who is immersed and living the story.
  • The reader begins to consider the characters as friends, sometimes even the bad guys.

And in the novel I am working on, my antagonist is a good guy, one who believes he is on the right side. I love this guy. He triggered a mage trap and was corrupted by an evil god, but he is fundamentally still the same person he always was.

It’s just that now he is fighting for the devil.

That emotional attachment is why every sacrifice our characters make must have meaning. It must advance the plot, or your reader will hate you.

emotionwordslist02LIRF06232020Motivations add fuel to emotions. Emotions drive the scene forward.

So, now I am designing a side character, a kindly mentor for Character B. When the arrow strikes, I want the reader to feel the emotions as strongly as my antagonist. This will involve a balance of more showing than telling, but I find strong emotions are easy to show.

What I struggle with is showing the subtler emotions.

Which is why it takes so long for me to finish writing a book.


Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: Front Cover of The Emotional Craft of Fiction: How to Write the Story Beneath the Surface – Kindle edition by Maass, Donald. Reference Kindle eBooks @ Amazon.com.

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Emotional show and tell #writing

The books I love are written with bold words crafted into evocative prose. The way the words are shaped into sentences and paragraphs engages me. But the words are only there to illuminate the emotional lives and actions of the characters.

The prose makes the story real and immediate to me. In the best stories, the characters have depth and are memorable because both the antagonist and protagonist are powerful but not omnipotent. They have character arcs that change and grow as the story progresses.

a writer's style Characters aren’t fully formed when you first lay pen to paper. They evolve as you go, growing out of the experiences you write for them. Sometimes, these changes take the story in an entirely different direction than was planned, which involves a great deal of rewriting. It helps me remain consistent if I note those changes on my outline because then I don’t forget them.

I like stories featuring characters who are sometimes hasty, sometimes wrong-headed. They make mistakes and cause themselves more trouble because they’re inexperienced and don’t know what they’re doing.

As the story falls from our imagination, each character’s personal arc is shaped by the events they experience within the story arc.

How do they handle setbacks? How do they handle success? How do they see their future when we meet them on page one? Has their view of the future changed by the time we arrive at the final page?

If the characters are changed by the events they experience, the reader will be, too. Our characters’ emotional state is critical because emotions engage readers. We want our readers to experience the crisis, so we must craft that scene carefully.

emotion-thesaurus-et-alI highly recommend the Writers Helping Writers Series of textbooks written by Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi. They are a wonderful resource for when you need ideas for showing a variety of emotions rather than telling them.

We want a balanced narrative, one where the telling and showing are seamlessly woven together.

The tricky part of this is in the execution, in knowing what to tell and what to show. When someone is happy, what do you see? Bright eyes, laughter, and smiles. When you are happy, how do you feel? Energized, confident. Show those feelings briefly and move on. Don’t swamp us with detailed shoulder sagging, lips twisting, and face drooping all in one sentence.

So now, we need to combine the surface of the emotion (physical) with the deeper aspect of the emotion (internal). Not only that, but we want to write it so that we aren’t telling the reader what to feel. We are still in the inferential layer of the story. Our job is to make the reader experience that emotion.

A short list of simple, commonly used, easy-to-describe surface emotions:

  • Admiration
  • Affection
  • Anger
  • Anticipation
  • Awe
  • Confidence
  • Contempt
  • Denial
  • Desire
  • Desperation
  • Determination
  • Disappointment
  • Disbelief
  • Disgust
  • Elation
  • Embarrassment
  • Fear
  • Friendship
  • Grief
  • Happiness
  • Hate
  • Interest
  • Love
  • Lust
  • Pride
  • Revulsion
  • Sadness
  • Shock
  • Surprise

Other emotions are complex and challenging to show. They are complicated and deeply personal. These are the gut-wrenching emotions that make our work speak to the reader.

So, here is an even shorter list of rarely well-described, difficult-to-articulate, complex emotions:

  • Anguish
  • Anxiety
  • Defeat
  • Defensiveness
  • Depression
  • Indecision
  • Jealousy
  • Ethical Quandary
  • Inadequacy
  • Powerlessness
  • Regret
  • Resistance
  • Temptation
  • Trust
  • Unease
  • Weakness

Complex emotions are often best when shown by an immediate physical reaction combined with internal dialogue or conversations. Conversations are opportunities to show depth as well as convey information. This pertains to the internal monologues of your characters, too.

We have mental conversations with ourselves in real life. Sometimes, we even speak our thoughts aloud, convincing the neighbors that we’re crazy.

Researchers say that most of the time, our inner monologue is about how we see ourselves. These thoughts are often in whole sentences and phrased negatively. And most telling of all, we aren’t usually aware of our inner thoughts when we have them.

However, an interior monologue is a good tool for revealing motives. What our characters think but don’t speak aloud tells the reader a lot about them.

It shows who they think they are as well as how they perceive others. Sometimes, revealing a critical bit of backstory can only be accomplished through the protagonist’s thought processes or those of a companion.

strange thoughtsAt any gathering of authors, a determined group will proclaim that thoughts should not be italicized under any circumstances. While I disagree with that view, I do see their point.

As a reader, my eyes tend to skip over long passages of italicized words. Italicizing thoughts is an accepted practice in the genres of Sci-fi, Fantasy, and YA novels, and readers of those genres expect to see thoughts shown that way.

  • However,we need to be aware of how overwhelming it is for a reader to be faced with a wall of words written in a leaning font.

If the author makes it clear that the characters are having mental conversations with themselves, italics aren’t needed.

It was, he thought, one of those rare days where the sun shone benevolently upon mankind, a day when the constant wind was gentle, benign. Aloud, he said, “Enjoy the sun while you can, my friend. The rain is eternal here.”

Dialogue, both spoken and interior, serves two purposes. It sets the scene and reveals the theme. Your word choices show the characters as they are, gradually revealing their secrets and showing us their personalities.

Your word choices reveal you, the author. Through those words, we hear your voice.

Contrasts are key. Consider the relative security of the characters’ lives as they were in the opening paragraphs contrasted against the hazards of where they are now. Each person experiences uncertainty, fear, anger, and a sense of loss differently. Those differences make them unique to us.

Jack Kerouak on writing LIRF07252022In a good story, bad things have happened, pushing the characters out of their comfortable rut. They must become creative and work hard to acquire or accomplish their desired goals.

How they overcome their doubts and make themselves stronger is what makes each character interesting. That internal and emotional journey is the real story.

So next up, we’ll talk about motivations. Nothing happens unless a character is sincerely motivated.

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#FineArtFriday: Evening Street by Jakub Schikaneder, 1906

Jakub_Schikaneder_-_Evening_Street_-_Google_Art_ProjectArtist: Jakub Schikaneder (1855–1924)

Title: Evening Street

Date: 1906

Medium: oil on canvas

Inscriptions: signed and dated

Collection: National Gallery Prague

About this Painting, via Copilot GPT (sources listed in the footnotes below):

Evening Street by Jakub Schikaneder is done in the Romanticism style, characterized by its blend of realism and melancholy. In this enchanting cityscape, Schikaneder masterfully captures the quietude of an evening street in Prague. The scene exudes a sense of solitude and nostalgia, as if time has slowed down. The play of light and shadow adds depth to the composition, emphasizing the architectural details and the cobblestone pavement.

The painting invites us to wander through the narrow streets, perhaps imagining the footsteps of passersby and the whispers of history. The subdued palette, with hints of warm tones, evokes the fading light of day. It’s a moment frozen in time—a glimpse into the soul of the city.

Schikaneder often depicted lower-class people in his works, and Evening Street is no exception. The figures, though not prominent, contribute to the overall atmosphere. Their silhouettes blend seamlessly with the surroundings, emphasizing the quiet beauty of everyday life. [1]

About the Artist, via Wikipedia:

Jakub (or Jakob) Schikaneder (February 27, 1855 in Prague – November 15, 1924 in Prague) was a painter from Bohemia.

Jakub (or Jakob) Schikaneder was born to a family of a German customs office clerk in Prague. The family’s love of art enabled him to pursue his studies, despite bad economic circumstances. The aspiring painter was a descendant of Urban Schikaneder, the elder brother of librettist Emanuel Schikaneder.

Following his work in the National Theatre, Schikaneder traveled through Europe, visiting Germany, England, Scotland, The Netherlands, Switzerland, Italy and France. From 1891 until 1923 he taught in Prague’s Art College. Schikaneder counted amongst those who admired the Munich School of the end of the 19th century.

Schikaneder is known for his soft paintings of the outdoors, often lonely in mood. His paintings often feature poor and outcast figures and “combined neoromantic and naturalist impulses.” Other motifs favored by Schikaneder were autumn and winter, corners and alleyways in the city of Prague and the banks of the Vltava – often in the early evening light or cloaked in mist. His first well-known work was the monumental painting Repentance of the Lollards (2.5m × 4m, lost). The National Gallery in Prague held an exhibition of his paintings from May 1998 until January 1999. [2]


Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Jakub Schikaneder – Evening Street – Google Art Project.jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Jakub_Schikaneder_-_Evening_Street_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg&oldid=844404638 (accessed February 22, 2024).

[1] Copilot GPT drew information and quotes from these sources (accessed February 22, 2024):

  1. https://www.wikiart.org/en/jakub-schikaneder/evening-street |
  2. https://www.artrenewal.org/artworks/street-in-the-evening-prague/jakub-schikaneder/100011 |
  3. https://fineartamerica.com/featured/5-evening-street-jakub-schikaneder.html |
  4. https://www.wikiart.org/en/jakub-schikaneder

[2] Wikipedia contributors, “Jakub Schikaneder,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Jakub_Schikaneder&oldid=1188016975 (accessed February 22, 2024).

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Worldbuilding and depth, part 2 – the inferential layer of mood and atmosphere #writing

Many new authors use the word mood interchangeably with atmosphere when describing a scene or passage. This is because mood and atmosphere are like conjoined twins. They are individuals but are difficult to separate as they share some critical functions. This is the layer of worldbuilding that lies just below the surface, a component of the inferential layer of the narrative.

mood-emotions-1-LIRF09152020Mood is long-term, a feeling residing in the background, going almost unnoticed. Mood shapes (and is shaped by) the emotions evoked within the story.

Atmosphere is also long-term but is sometimes more noticeable as it is a component of worldbuilding. Atmosphere is the aspect of mood that is conveyed by the setting.

Emotion is immediate and short-term and is also subtle and lurking in the background. The characters feelings affect the reader’s experience of the overall atmosphere and mood.

storybyrobertmckeeRobert McKee tells us that emotion is the experience of transition, of the characters moving between a state of positivity and negativity. “Story” by Robert McKee. Emotions are fluid, generating energy, and give life to the narrative.

I look for books where the author shows emotions in a way that feels dynamic. Our characters are in a state of flux, and their emotional state should also be. When the character’s internal struggle is turbulent, ranging from positive to negative and back, their story becomes personal to me.

Mood is a significant word serving several purposes. It is created by the setting (atmosphere), the exchanges of dialogue (conversation), and the tone of the narrative (word choices, descriptions). It is also affected by (and refers to) the emotional state of the characters—their personal mood.

Undermotivated emotions lack credibility and leave the reader feeling as if the story is flat. In real life, we have deep, personal reasons for our feelings, and so must our characters.

A woman shoots another woman. Why? What emerges as the story progresses is that a road accident occurred three years before in which her child was accidentally struck and killed by the woman she murdered.

My worldbuilding for that story should convey an atmosphere of shadows, sort of like a “film noir.” Everything my characters see and interact with should be symbolic, conveying a range of dark emotions in the opening pages in which the gun is fired, and the woman falls dead. If I do it right, I’ll have intense emotion and high drama.

In real life, people have reasons for their actions, irrational though they may be. The root cause of a person’s emotional state drives their actions. In the case of the above story, the driving force is a descent into a mad desire to avenge what was an unintentional tragedy. Every aspect of the setting should reflect that intense anger, the deep-rooted hatred, and the unfairness of it all.

plot is the frame upon which the themes of a story are supportedThese visuals can easily be shown. Grief manifests in many ways and can become a thread running through the entire narrative. That theme of intense, subliminal emotion is the underlying mood and it shapes the story:

  • Many people are affected by the murder, family members on both sides, and also the law enforcement officers who must investigate it.

How can we show it? We use worldbuilding to create an atmosphere of gloom. Outside each window, whenever a character must leave their home or office, the days are dark, damp, and chill. The lack of sunshine and the constant rain wears on all the characters involved on either side of the law.

  • The setting underscores each of the main characters’ personal problems and evokes a general sense of loss and devastation.

Which is more important, mood or emotion? Both and neither. Characters’ emotions affect their attitudes, which in turn shape the overall mood of a story. In turn, the atmosphere of a particular environment may affect the characters’ personal mood. Their individual attitudes affect the emotional state of the group.

As we have said before, emotion is the experience of transition from the negative to the positive and back again. Each evolution of the characters’ emotions shapes their conscious beliefs and values. They will either grow or stagnate.

Infer_Meme_LIRF06292019This is part of the inferential layer, as the audience must infer (deduce) the experience. You can’t tell a reader how to feel. They must experience and understand (infer) what drives the character on a human level.

What is mood in literature? Wikipedia says mood is established in order to affect the reader emotionally and psychologically and to provide a feeling of experience for the narrative.

What is atmosphere? It is worldbuilding, created by the words we choose. We can feel it, but it is intangible. But atmosphere affects how the reader perceives the story. The way a setting is described contributes to the atmosphere, and that description is a component of worldbuilding.

Atmosphere is the result of deliberate word choices. It comes into play when we place certain visual elements into the scenery with the intention of creating an emotion in the reader.

  • Tumbleweeds rolling across a barren desert.
  • Waves crashing against cliffs.
  • Dirty dishes resting beside the sink.
  • A chill breeze wafting through a broken window.

We show these conjoined twins of mood and atmosphere through subtle clues: odors, ambient sounds, and the surrounding environment. They are intensified by the characters’ attitudes and emotions. Mood and atmosphere are organic components of the environment but are also an intentional ambiance.

622px-Merle_Oberon_and_Laurence_Olivier_in_'Wuthering_Heights',_1939As we read, the atmosphere that is shown within the pages colors and intensifies our emotions, and at that point, they feel organic. Think about a genuinely gothic tale: the mood and atmosphere Emily Brontë instilled into the setting of Wuthering Heights make the depictions of mental and physical cruelty seem like they would happen there.

Happy, sad, neutral—atmosphere and mood combine to intensify or dampen the emotions our characters experience. They underscore the characters’ struggles.

For me, as a writer, conveying the inferential layer of a story is complicated. Creating a world on paper requires thought even when we live in that world. We know how the atmosphere and mood of our neighborhood feels when we walk to the store. But try conveying that mood and atmosphere in a letter to a friend – it’s more complicated than it looks.

Showing what is going on inside our characters’ heads is tricky. We will go a little deeper into that next week.

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Worldbuilding and depth, part 1 – what we see #writing

One of our favorite places to walk before my husband’s Parkinson’s limited his mobility was McLane Creek Nature Trail. The central feature of the reserve is the large beaver pond. While the trails that wind around the pond and through the woods are easy to walk for most, they aren’t really suited for people who must rely on a walker or wheelchair.

McLaine_Pond_In_July_©_2018_ConnieJJapsersonHowever, there is an accessible viewpoint just at the entrance, and we can go there and just absorb the peace. Several years ago, I shot this photo from that platform.

I grew up in a home that faced the shore of a lake, with a range of forested hills just beyond. Nature was my friend, my sanctuary. That’s why I feel such kinship for McLane Pond and bodies of water in general. They are creatures of many moods.

When you watch the water, you can see the effects of the world around it reflected on its surface. When a storm blows in, things change. The surface moves, and ripples and small waves stir things up down below. The waters turn dark, reflecting the turbulent sky.

Laanemaa_järv_Orkjärve_looduskaitsealal

Sunrise at Lake Laanemaa at Orkjärve Nature Reserve, Estonia

And on a windless day, the pool will be calm and quiet. The sky and any overhanging trees will be reflected on its surface.

Just like the surface of a pond, the surface of a story is the literal layer. It is the what-you-see-is-what-you-get layer. It conceals what lurks in the depths but offers clues as to what lies below.

This layer is comprised of four aspects.

  • Genre
  • Setting
  • Action and interaction
  • All visual/physical experiences of the characters as they go about their lives.

Genre is an all-encompassing aspect of a story. It determines the shelf in the bookstore, such as General Fiction, fantasy, romance, etc. Those labels tell the reader what sort of story to expect.

Setting – I see the surface of a story as if it were the background in a painting. At first glance, we see something recognizable. The setting is the backdrop against which the story is shown. The setting is comprised of things such as:

  1. Objects the characters see in their immediate environment.
  2. Ambient sounds.
  3. Odors and scents.
  4. Objects the characters interact with, such as clothing, weapons, transportation, etc.
  5. Era (the story’s place in time).

Pieter_BRUEGHEL_Ii_-_The_tax-collector's_office_-_Google_Art_ProjectAction and interaction – we know how the surface of a pond is affected by the breeze that stirs it. In the case of our novel, the breeze that stirs things up is made of motion and emotion. These two elements shape and affect the structural events that form the plot arc.

  1. In the opening, the characters are going about their daily lives. Nothing too exciting, not worth writing about … however, two or three pages in, something happens.
  2. The inciting incident occurs, and daily life is thrown into disarray.
  3. To make things worse, the winds of change blow, driving rising waves of action and events in an uncomfortable direction.
  4. New characters are introduced, people who have parts to play for good or ill.
  5. Action and interaction occur between the protagonist and antagonist as they battle for position.
  6. Everyone and everything converge at the final showdown, and changed by our experiences, we return to the serene pond that was our life before.

So, the surface of the story, the world in which it exists, is shown at first by the visual/physical experiences of the characters as they go about their lives in the opening paragraphs. These can appear to be the story, but once a reader wades into the first few pages, they should discover unsuspected depths.

We shape this layer through worldbuilding. We can add sci-fi or fantasy elements, or we can stick to as natural an environment as possible.

Elizabeth_Jane_Gardner_-_La_Confidence_(1880)So, how can we use the surface elements to convey a message or to poke fun at a social norm? In other words, how can we get our books banned in some parts of this fractured world?

In Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll played with the setting by incorporating an unusual juxtaposition of objects and animals. His characters behave and interact with their environment as if the bizarre elements are everyday happenings. The setting has a slightly hallucinogenic feel, making the reader wonder if the characters are dreaming.

Yet, in the Alice stories, the placement of the unusual objects is deliberate, meant to convey a message or to poke fun at a social norm. We just don’t realize it because we’re having so much fun.

Most sci-fi and fantasy novels are set in recognizable worlds that are very similar to where we live. The settings are familiar, so close to what we know that we could be in that world. That is where good worldbuilding creates a literal layer that is immediately accepted by the reader.

Setting, action, and interaction—these components are the surface, and they support the deeper aspects of the story.

The depths of the story are shown in how our characters interact and react to stresses within the overall framework of the environment and plot.

  • Depth is found in the lessons the characters learn as they live through the events.
  • Depth manifests in the changes of viewpoint and evolving differences in how our characters see themselves and the world.

steampunk had holding pen smallCreating depth in our story requires thought and rewriting. The first draft of our novel gives us the surface, the world that is the backdrop.

In the first draft, all we are concerned with is getting the structure of the story down and the characters in place with their personalities. Our subconscious mind will insert clues, little breadcrumbs hinting at what lies in the depths below the surface of our story. We might think they are clearly shown, but a beta reader might tell you they need a little more clarification.

The first draft is only the framework of the story, even if you have written “the end.” The true depths of the narrative and the emotions experienced by our characters are yet to be discovered.

The mysterious things that lurk in the depths of the story will begin to reveal themselves in the second draft.

Once you have written “the end” on the first draft, set the narrative aside for a few weeks and then go back to it. That is when the real writing begins.

Depth_word_cloud (50 words)-page-001


Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: Photograph, McLain Pond in July, © 2018 – 2024 by Connie J. Jasperson, from the author’s private photos.

IMAGE Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Pieter BRUEGHEL Ii – The tax-collector’s office – Google Art Project.jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, the free media repository, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Pieter_BRUEGHEL_Ii_-_The_tax-collector%27s_office_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg&oldid=708678946 (accessed December 9, 2022).

IMAGE: Sunrise at Lake Laanemaa at Orkjärve Nature Reserve, Estonia.  Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Laanemaa järv Orkjärve looduskaitsealal.jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Laanemaa_j%C3%A4rv_Orkj%C3%A4rve_looduskaitsealal.jpg&oldid=801967887 (accessed September 17, 2023).

IMAGE: Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Elizabeth Jane Gardner – La Confidence (1880).jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, the free media repository, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Elizabeth_Jane_Gardner_-_La_Confidence_(1880).jpg&oldid=540767709 (accessed April 22, 2021).

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#FineArtFriday: revisiting ‘Slindebirken Vinter’ by J. C. Dahl 1838

I first posted this image in December of 2018. As I considered what painting to look at for today’s post, it seemed to me that the brief bout of snowy weather here in the Pacific Northwest called for a snowy picture, and what could be snowier than Norway in the winter? I love paintings that depict historical places–they fuel my inner author.

Slindebjørka or Slindebirken was a birch tree that stood at Inner Slinde in Sogn, Norway, until it was blown down in a storm in 1874. The tree was beloved, considered a Norwegian national treasure. People came from all over Western Norway to see the tree and picnic beneath its branches.

What I love about this painting is the personality embodied in the birch tree itself as Dahl depicts it. The tree stands proudly, offering a place for birds to rest. It seems to represent the Norwegian spirit of independence, taking what nature throws at it with humor and stoicism.

Dahl’s portrayal is powerful, showing the bent and bowed branches held high despite the barrenness of winter. The image shows a tree that intends to be there when spring comes, as do the people of the village it overlooks.

About the Artist (from Wikipedia)

Johan Christian Claussen Dahl (24 February 1788 – 14 October 1857), often known as J. C. Dahl or I. C. Dahl, was a Norwegian artist who is considered the first great romantic painter in Norway, the founder of the “golden age” of Norwegian painting, and one of the greatest European artists of all time.[1] He is often described as “the father of Norwegian landscape painting”[2] and is regarded as the first Norwegian Painter ever to reach a level of artistic accomplishment comparable to that attained by the greatest European artists of his day. He was also the first to acquire genuine fame and cultural renown abroad.[3] As one critic has put it, “J.C. Dahl occupies a central position in Norwegian artistic life of the first half of the 19th century.[4]

As a boy, Dahl was educated by a sympathetic mentor at the Bergen Cathedral who at first thought that this bright student would make a good priest, but then, recognizing his remarkably precocious artistic ability, arranged for him to be trained as an artist. From 1803 to 1809 Dahl studied with the painter Johan Georg Müller [no], whose workshop was the most important one in Bergen at the time. Still, Dahl looked back on his teacher as having kept him in ignorance in order to exploit him, putting him to work painting theatrical sets, portraits, and views of Bergen and its surroundings. Another mentor, Lyder Sagen, showed the aspiring artist books about art and awakened his interest in historical and patriotic subjects. It was also Sagen who took up a collection that made it possible for Dahl to go to Copenhagen in 1811 to complete his education at the academy there.

As important as Dahl’s studies at the academy in Copenhagen were his experiences in the surrounding countryside and in the city’s art collections. In 1812 he wrote to Sagen that the landscape artists he most wished to emulate were Ruisdahl and Everdingen, and for that reason he was studying “nature above all,” Dahl’s artistic program was, then, already in place: he would become a part of the great landscape tradition, but he would also be as faithful as possible to nature itself.


Credits and Attributions:

Slindebirken, Vinter by Johan Christian Dahl 1838 [Public domain] via Wikimedia Commons

Wikipedia contributors, “Johan Christian Dahl,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Johan_Christian_Dahl&oldid=866337453 (accessed December 14, 2018).

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Proofreading, Beta Reading, and Editing – three different stages of #writing

Proofreading is not editing, nor is beta reading. These are three different stages of preparing a manuscript for publication.

depthPart1revisionsLIRF05252021Beta Reading is the first look at a manuscript by someone other than the author. The first reading by an unbiased eye is meant to give the author a view of their story’s overall strengths and weaknesses so that the revision process will go smoothly. This phase should be done before you submit the manuscript to an editor. It’s best when the reader is a person who reads for pleasure and can gently express what they think about a story or novel. Also, look for a person who enjoys the genre of that particular story. If you are asked to be a beta reader, you should ask several questions of this first draft.

Setting: Does the setting feel real?

Characters: Is the point of view character (protagonist) clear? Did you understand what they were feeling? Were they likable? Did you identify with and care about them? Were there various character types, or did they all seem the same? Were their emotions and motivations clear and relatable?

Dialogue: Did the dialogue and internal narratives advance the plot?

Pacing: How did the momentum feel?

Does the ending surprise and satisfy you? What do you think might happen next?

What about grammar and mechanics? At this point, a beta reader might comment on whether or not you have a basic understanding of grammar and industry practices that suits your genre.

I am fortunate to have excellent friends willing to do this for me. Their suggestions are thoughtful and spot-on.

Leonid_Pasternak_-_The_Passion_of_creationEditing is a process unto itself and is the final stage of making revisions. The editor goes over the manuscript line-by-line, pointing out areas that need attention: awkward phrasings, grammatical errors, missing quotation marks—many things that make the manuscript unreadable. Sometimes, major structural issues will need to be addressed. Straightening out all the kinks may take more than one trip through a manuscript.

There are different kinds of editing, as the various branches of literature have requirements that are unique to them. In creative writing, editing is a stage in which a writer and editor work together to improve a draft by ensuring consistency in style and grammatical usages.

The editor does not try to change an author’s voice but does point out errors. When an author’s style goes against convention and it is their choice, the editor ensures it does so consistently from page one to the end of the manuscript. At the same time, attention is paid to transitions and the overall story arc.

Proofreading is its own thing.

jack-kerouac-quote-memeA good proofreader understands that the author has already been through the editing gauntlet with that book and is satisfied with it in its current form. A proofreader will not try to hijack the process and derail an author’s launch date by nitpicking their genrestyle, and phrasing. 

The proofreader must understand that the author has hired a professional line editor and is satisfied that the story arc is what they envisioned. The author is confident that the characters have believable and unique personalities as they are written. The editor has worked with the author to ensure the overall tone, voice, and mood of the piece is what the author envisioned.

I used the word ‘envisioned‘ twice in my previous paragraph because the work is the author’s creation, a product of their vision. By the time we arrive at the proofing stage, the prose, character development, and story arc are intentional. The author and their editor have considered the age level of the intended audience.

If you feel the work is too dumbed down or poorly conceived and you can’t stomach it, simply hand the manuscript back and tell them you are unable to do it after all.

If you have been asked to proofread a manuscript, please DON’T mark it up with editorial comments. Don’t critique their voice and content because it will be a waste of time for you and the author.

  • And, if your comments are phrased too harshly at any point during this process, you could lose a friend.

If the person who has agreed to proof your work cannot refrain from asking for significant revisions regarding your style and content, find another proofreader, and don’t ask them for help again.

f scott fitzgerald quoteThe problem that frequently rears its head among the Indie community occurs when an author who writes in one genre agrees to proofread the finished product of an author who writes in a different genre. People who write sci-fi or mystery often don’t understand or enjoy paranormal romances, epic fantasy, or YA fantasy.

Also, some people can’t proofread because they are fundamentally driven to critique and edit.

Indies must hope their intended proofreader is aware of what to look for. In traditional publishing houses, proofreading is done after the final revisions have been made. Hopefully, it is done by someone who has not seen the manuscript before. That way, they will see it through new eyes, and the small things in your otherwise perfect manuscript will stand out.

What The Proofreader Should Look For:

Spelling—misspelled words, autocorrect errors, and homophones (words that sound the same but are spelled differently). These words are insidious because they are real words and don’t immediately stand out as being out of place. The human eye is critical for this.

  • Wrong: There cat escaped, and he had to chase it.
  • Wrong: The dog ran though the house
  • Wrong: He was a lighting.

Kusakabe_Kimbei_-_Writing_Letter_(large)Repeated words and cut-and-paste errors. These are sneaky and dreadfully difficult to spot. Spell-checker won’t always find them. To you, the author, they make sense because you see what you intended to see. For the reader, they appear as unusually garbled sentences.

  • Wrong: It is accepted thoughts italicize thoughts.

Missing punctuation and closed quotes:

  • Wrong: “What do you know about the dead man? asked Officer Shultz.

Numbers that are digits:

Miss keyed numbers are difficult to spot when they are wrong unless they are spelled out.

  • Wrong number: There will be 30000 guests at the reception.

Dropped and missing words:

  • Wrong: Officer Shultz sat at my kitchen table me gently.

I have to be extra vigilant when making corrections my proofreader has asked for. Each time I change something in my already-edited manuscript, I run the risk of creating another undetected error.

ok to write garbage quote c j cherryhAt some point, your manuscript is finished. Your beta readers pointed out areas that needed work. The line editor has beaten you senseless with the Chicago Manual of Style. The content and structure are as good as you can get them. Your proofreader has found minor flaws that were missed.

If you don’t have access to a proofreader, there is a way to proof your own work. I find that making a printout of each chapter and reading it aloud helps me to see the flaws I have missed when reading my work on the screen. I hope this helps you on your writing journey!


CREDITS/ATTRIBUTIONS:

The Passion of Creation, Leonid Pasternak [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Writing letter, By Kusakabe_Kimbei [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

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Calendars and Maps #amwriting

Time can get a little mushy when I am winging it through a manuscript. I discovered early on that keeping a calendar and a map gives me a realistic view of how long it takes my characters to travel from point A to point B.

dylan moran quote TIMEAlso, the two combine to help in deciding how long it will take to complete a task.

It helps to know what season your events occur in, as foliage changes with the seasons, and weather is a part of worldbuilding. But there are other reasons for keeping a calendar as well as sketching a map.

A calendar helps you with pacing and consistency. In conjunction with a map, a calendar keeps the events moving along the story arc. It ensures you allow enough time to reasonably accomplish large tasks, enabling a reader to suspend their disbelief.

They ensure you don’t inadvertently jump from season to season when describing the scenery surrounding the characters.

The calendar keeps the timeline believable. Here is where I confess my great regret: in 2008, a lunar calendar seemed like a good thing while creating my first world.

  • Thirteen months, twenty-eight days each,
  • One extra day at the end of the year, which ends on the Winter solstice.
  • Winter solstice is called Holy Day. Every four years, they have two Holy Days and a big party.

That arrangement of thirteen months is easy to work with because it is on paper. However, the names I assigned to the dates and months are problematic.

Calendar Capricas 3262 NeveyahWhile I had finished the RPG game’s plot and the synopsis, I didn’t have some details of the universe and the world figured out. So, in a burst of creative predictability, I went astrological in naming the months. I thought it would give the player a feeling of familiarity.

We were only beginning to design the game when it was scrapped. Fortunately, I retained the rights to my work. Unfortunately, the calendar I had invented for the RPG was incorporated into the world of Neveyah, and now (while I wish it wasn’t) it is canon.

In a bout of desperate unoriginality, I went with the names we currently use when I named the days, except—I twisted them a bit and gave them the actual Norse god’s name. The gods and goddesses of Neveyah are not Norse.

I could have changed all of that when the game was abandoned, but it didn’t occur to me. That lapse is an example of how what seems like a good idea at the time might not be workable in practice.

One thing I did right was sticking to a 24-hour day and a standard 12-hour clock. Experience is a cruel teacher. I can’t stress enough how important it is to keep things simple when we are world-building. Simplicity minimizes chaos when the plot gets complicated.

Digital Clock FaceTime has a tendency to be elastic when we are writing the first draft of a story where many events must occur. Sometimes, many things are accomplished in too short a period for a reader to suspend their disbelief.

Calendars are maps of time. They turn the abstract concept of time into an image we can understand.

Even though I regret how I named the days in Mountains of the Moon, I have a calendar, so my characters progress through their space-time continuum at a rate I can comprehend. I can adjust events in the first and second drafts, moving them forward or back in time by looking at and updating their calendar. The sequence of events forming the plot arc remains believable.

I heartily suggest you stick to a simple calendar. That is the advice I would give any new writer—stick to something close to the calendar we’re familiar with, and don’t get too fancy.

Speaking of fancy, what about distance? Stories often involve traveling, and in fantasy tales, one could be walking or riding a horse. The distance a person can walk in one hour depends on the walking speed and the terrain. People can walk between 2.0 miles (3.22 K) and 5.0 miles (8.47 K) in 1 hour (60 minutes) depending on walking speed. A healthy person can probably walk 5 to 7 miles (8.04 to 11.256 K) in two hours of walking at a steady pace.

protomapWhat if your fantasy world uses leagues as a measure of distance? A league is 3.452 miles or 5.556 kilometers. Generally speaking, a horse can walk 32 miles or 51.5 K in a day.

Thus, a day of walking or riding a horse on a level road can take one quite a distance.

But roads are NOT always level, and they don’t always cross flat ground.

As I said above, the distance a person can walk in one hour depends on the walking speed and the terrain. But let’s say you settle down and walk at a steady speed. If you go at the typical walking pace of 15 to 20 minutes per mile, it could take you 2–3 hours to get to your destination if it is ten miles (16 K) away on a good road.

If you are writing sci-fi or fantasy, calendars, and rudimentary maps work together to keep the plot moving and believable. Will your characters encounter forests? Mountains? Rivers?

Maybe they live in a city.

Each of these areas will impact how long it takes to go from one place to another. This is where a calendar comes into play.

proto_city_map_LIRF07052022Many readers have a route they walk or run daily to maintain their health. These readers will know how long it takes to walk ten blocks. They will also know how far a healthy person can walk in one hour on a good road.

This is where the map comes into play. You can’t travel in a straight line over mountains or forests. Sometimes, you must travel parallel to a river for a long way until you come to a place shallow enough to cross.

Map-pugetsoundThe part of the world where I live has large tracts of forests, many wide rivers, and is mountainous, with numerous volcanos. Our roads are often winding and sometimes travel in switchbacks up and over many of these obstacles. It takes time to go places even though the original road-builders plotted the roads through the most accessible paths.

And we’ll just toss this out there – while you can drop a tall tree across a narrow creek, building bridges over rivers requires a certain amount of engineering. Cultures from the Neolithic to modern times have had the skills needed to make bridges.

We are creative, and archaeology shows us that our ancestors were capable of far more than we have traditionally believed. Archeology and history both tell us that humans, as a species, are tribal by nature. We band together for protection, shelter, better access to resources, and companionship, and these gathering places become towns.

Humans have always created communities where resources are plentiful, but climate changes over time.

Your maps should take into consideration all the terrain your characters must deal with.

calendarTravel and events take time. A calendar, either fantasy or the standard Gregorian calendar we use today, and a simple hand-drawn map will help you maintain the logic of your plot.

sample-of-rough-sketched-map

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#FineArtFriday: Prisoners Marching Off by László Mednyánszky (1914)

László_Mednyánszky_Prisoners_Marching_Off_1914-18Author: László Mednyánszky (1852–1919)

Description: English: Prisoners Marching Off

Magyar: Vonuló foglyok

Date: 1914

Today’s image is by the Slovak–Hungarian painter, László Mednyánszky. Despite his age (62), he was a war correspondent on the front-lines from 1914 when WWI broke out, until his death from wounds he received in 1918. He chronicled the chaos, the living conditions, and the tragedy of it all.

I think the fact he did this one in shades of black and gray (possibly mixed media, charcoal and oils) emphasizes the grimness of the scene. He shows us the hopelessness these prisoners feel, how they are just faceless playing pieces in a game they can’t even comprehend.

About the artist, via Wikipedia:

Baron László Mednyánszky, also known by his Latinized name Ladislaus Josephus Balthasar Eustachius Mednyánszky (SlovakLadislav Medňanský; 23 April 1852 – 17 April 1919), was a SlovakHungarian painter and philosopher, considered one of the most enigmatic figures in the history of Hungarian art

Mednyánszky’s works were largely in the Impressionist tradition, with influences from Symbolism and Art Nouveau. His works depict landscape scenes of nature, the weather and everyday, poor people such as peasants and workmen. The region of his birth, the northeastern part of the Kingdom of Hungary, part of Austria-Hungary, was the site and subject of many of his paintings; scenes from the Carpathian Mountains and the Hungarian Plains are numerous. He also painted portraits of his friends and family, and images of soldiers during the First World War whilst working as a war correspondent.

When the First World War broke out in 1914, Mednyánszky was in Budapest again. He worked as a war correspondent on the Austro-Hungarian frontlines in Galicia, Serbia, and the southern Tirol. In the spring of 1918, he returned to Nagyőr (Strážky) to recover from war wounds. After spending some time working in Budapest, Mednyánszky died in poor health in the spring of 1919, in Vienna. He was homosexual, having had several relationships with men throughout his life. The longest and most important one, with Bálint Kurdi of Vác, lasted for decades.

His works are currently displayed in the Slovak National Gallery in Bratislava and Strážky chateau, which was donated to SNG by his niece Margit Czóbel in 1972.  Many of his works are displayed in the Hungarian National Gallery in Budapest as well. A large number of his works were destroyed during the Second World War.

In 2004 a New York gallery was host to a show of about seventy 19th- and early 20th-century Hungarian paintings, and a few works on paper, from the collection of Nicholas Salgo, a former United States ambassador to Hungary. The exhibition’s title, Everywhere a Foreigner and Yet Nowhere a Stranger, was drawn from Mednyánszky’s diary. [1]


Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:László Mednyánszky Prisoners Marching Off 1914-18.jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:L%C3%A1szl%C3%B3_Medny%C3%A1nszky_Prisoners_Marching_Off_1914-18.jpg&oldid=227591696 (accessed February 8, 2024).

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “László Mednyánszky,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=L%C3%A1szl%C3%B3_Medny%C3%A1nszky&oldid=1197892373 (accessed February 8, 2024).

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