2010.3.22 If the stories are correct then meditating should give me the answer. 2010.6.8 I don’t understand, this couldn’t have been could it? Why do I see what I do now? 2010.6.24 More questions, perhaps dabbling a bit further can satiate my thirst. 2011.4.13 But… how can it be? I’ve never felt such freedom, untethered from the laws of physics. But it never lasts. 2011.7.02 There isn’t an end to this is there? 2012.11.11 A vast underbelly… are they insane? I hope I can discern if they are manipulating me or… Some of them, are they true apertures? 2013.3.8 I must escape all these dilutants. They do nothing but inject society’s spiritual and theological perspectives upon our research, obscuring the truth. Useless like the rest. 2013.5.21 These dullards don’t… can’t understand the dips in common reality. Worse than the idiots I contacted, and more dangerous. They aren’t trying, just humoring themselves. 2016.10.15 The deeper I’ve delved the clearer it has become. The universe is turning inside out, and I am no longer human.
Each night, she returned to this parallel world; a dimension where magic could course through your fingertips, where alchemical creations birthed their own societies, and lands unknown, home to ghosts and ruins of civilizations that were before man, greeted the brave and curious.
Months passed of her voyage into the other world. She made friends, and found a lover. All remaining with her return, which was always the same. Always waking from where she slumbered. As if her waking hours meant nothing to this dream-world. As she became acclimated to the fantastical world, Her visits grew so lucid that her mortality was relevant. She could become sick in that world, and she would be in the waking. Her wounds in one world were there in the other. It became soon, that the waking world was the world of dreamers.
She curled up so tightly that she fell into herself, twisting over the puzzles that ravaged her mind. Unreliable numbers and unsequential phenomena. Deeper she dropped into a dystopian inferential world. Deforming time, ageless body in a unstable world, a reality more lucid than reality, until she woke once again.
I chased an imagined paragon of myself in lives past A desire to find the edge of the earth; don a hidden face Ascend to an aerial ground, and unlock all latent doors Untethered by expectation, I glimpsed the firmament With mind smoldered, and a somnolent third eye My psyche is no longer vaporous; wings no longer singing
When you’re alone in an empty room long enough If ungloved, you can reach inside yourself Just as the abyss can’t talk to you until you stop dancing Until you look at yourself without society’s mythology Without symbolizing the world, you will never see yourself
Always important: scenes are supposed to convey something. Scene dressing, world building, character’s feelings, goals, and so on. Scenes should service a function, even if that function is mundanity. In order to present a cold reality to things sometimes having a character walk from their lover in dead silence is best.
That is another important aspect to remember, scenes in both film and book are sort of dances. Sometimes, you need to give the reader breath, sometimes you must rob them of it. Patterns of complex rhythms are dire to lift a reader and to drop them.
It takes time and patience to forge these patterns but when it is done, when you are able to dance with your prose you will be able unlock many paths and then you’ll realize that shit I guess I gotta practice ten-thousand other things.
There, tips from an unqualified writer. XD
Also important: Have fun with scenes, while there’s a point to them it is important to remember you can do whatever you want. Drawn out action sequences, witty comedy and so on–sometimes it’s good to relish in the art not try to get to the end as quickly as possible.
Even now I alter things within my manuscript. For context, I’ve been completed with the first story of a trilogy for nearly a year or so now. I have yet to find an agent who is interested. I find myself editing my manuscript still. Pruning things and adding powder.
In particular, I have a scene between Sandra and Elexander on a plane. Now, originally, this scene took place in an airship, and so had a sort of train interior with private side compartments, but when this airship was swapped with a conventional plane I attempted to retain this feature. Then I realized that there really aren’t planes (as far as I’ve come to find) that have this feature. Since I want the basis of this book to take place in familiar reality, I figured I’d nix it out in favor of a traditional interior. Still the style is slightly unconventional. I used the basis for my version from the first class seating shown below.
However, the sectioned seat they have is a double width seat, with a table in front of them. A television for them to view and of course partially partitioned off. Initially a pair of double width seats would face one another and while I liked that I found various complications with the partitioning and if televisions (setting 1980ish tech in 2018 with 1950’s aesthetics) were common then that might seem odd. So, went with the simple one double width seat.
I felt the need to keep this walled off bit since Sandra uses it to ward off that area from potential threats that do show up. Taking out this entire thing for just them to sit in a pair of seats would be fine but it doesn’t get to show her planning as effectively.
There really isn’t much of a point to this other than recording my thoughts, showing things I edit.