I think I understand, it's about being human isn't it?

I have been reading an essay about bad sci-fi/fantasy plotting which has made me feel terribly guilty. Mostly because It made me realise how clumsy my plotting usually is. By and large I like stories with at least an edge of supernaturality, if such can be allowd as a word, but such a story lends itself to clumsy plotting. Why is Zap prince of the fallen? Because they know he is. Yes, but why? Well, the essence of the lower realms leaked out and just sort of found him at his birth. But that explains nothing. I have Seers to narrate the story- In truth, they are resonsible for the story. And nothing is an easier plot-device then a little girl who can see the future. And it's been far worse when I try to rationalise Rope and Kayne, which is extremyl hard to do with a dream that involved a talking handpuppet and a body switch. Which is why I worry about people who are inspired by their dreams. Truth be told, My mind concieves a story without the details, and I must then make a plot that will eventually fit in with this guide. And I like gods, so they almost always end up in there somewhere. It's a dilemour, but I can write no other way. If I got an idea for a story about a woman living on a farm who bacically lives her life, I'd be able to write a best seller that would bore me to tears should I ever pick it up. And all of this defying the fact that I cannot write a good story for love nor money.

The essay also made mention of some language use- Some authors are very fond of certain words, which they then reuse. I am myself guilty of this, In that I have a limited vocabulary, and so find myself using the same set of words over and over again. Which is probably very clumsy and seriously turns readers off of the meagre written content on my site. Fair enough.
To combat this in the Hour, I wrote several speach patterns into the wat certain characters spoke. Ashen was very formal, while Raoul was... Completely not. Bara was very suburbanite, in that she called everyone sweety or dear, which is not an unfamiliar speach pattern, as I know several people who are similar. Our principal used to call me sweetie, and a friends science teacher called all the girls pettal. I am interested in such coloquialisms, so I tend to use them, and admire seeing them used.

Such whinings asside, I wish do discuss influences. But first, I wish to explain why. A few weekends ago there was a gardening show up in Peterborough, which is a small country town in land encrouching fiercely arid and currently drought-ridden lands. It is in this town that my father grew up, and here that in a move that rather surprised me my Aunt now works. I have several aunts, but this was the only one I spent signifigant ammounts of holiday time. Perhaps some of the best, and maybe the only, moments of my childhood. In either case, my father, in all his fatherly pride, informed my Aunt that I was recieving an award for english from the school. To which she made suitable impressed comments without expressing in any way that this was a shock. She then asked me if I was still writing. Which was a surprise, as I thought she had completely forgotten of my original ambition. Most others have. It's enough to drive an oversensitive girl like myself to tears. I informed her, as off-handedly as possible, that the only thing it could be said I was writing was a plan for a comic book. Standard replies, befor the question that completely took me off guard. "Is this the one you were doing before?" I tried desperately to think back on exactly when she had last seen me do anything that could be seen as a comic book , and then I realised. She was refering to Dragontears, which Is still in its penciled form waiting for me to finish my ten pages and, in doing so, hopefuly implement my contribution. That she remembered such a meagre thing was mindblowing to me, which leads on to this next discusion.
The main female influences on my life. I have quite a few male influences, but they are almost exclusively in the form of teachers and father. Women seem to have found themselves a more diverse range. And none are teachers, as female teachers tend to overlook me and focus instead where their efforts are most needed. Perhaps males just focus more where they will get the best results. In any case, The first is quite obvious. My mother. Her steadfast belief that everything you do should go towards something and that such friviouslessness as this anime stuff must be used to somehow provide for my future has led to me eventually deciding that, as I will never find anything I have any desire to do, I will go into computer generated imagery and become an unimployed drifter with a BA. And then likely join the customes service. It is someting I think I could live with until I either go blind and die or just flat die, however great amout of time such may be. I am certain that to have such an influence is good for me, but I am equally certain that many a therapist woud place my reclusive and subtued sence of ... No, I dare not spell the word in its entirety. I must therefore spell it as those trying to get around an unusual mental censorship that states swearing is okay provided the second letter is an asterix. My... C*nfidence. Or should that be ©ôñfîÞêñ©ê? No! I have said it too much already... I swear to you, I could never admit to such an... Atrocity! No, I swear, I have taken it from nowhere... Actually, we have more in common then I like to think about, and provided I remember that I am the submissive in the relationship I will survive.
The second which I will mention comes from the introduction. My aunt, whom I admire and in some ways aspire to be. Throughout my childhood she lived in the middle of nowhere, and for a part of it I remember her having a biker boyfriend. She drifted, never really having much but apparently happy, and always honnest in what she did. She barely even looks like a part of my family, and clearly took a diferent track to the rest of her siblings. While I have no great desire to live the life she's led, I perhaps hope to be something like her someday in the future. And I find the interest she shows in me sometimes to be somewhat frightening- I chalk it down to the fact that she still remembers the cry-baby flower girl who magically appeared in her house for a week every few months.
The next two come as a set, and I dispise recognising their infuence over me, but alas it is necesarry. My fathers ex-girlfriend (Ladyfriend, whatever) and her eldest daughter. Her daughter is possibly the reason my attitude to such menial things as sexuality and lifestyle are very much 'whatever feels right to you'. And the woman herself taught me that my brother and I must stick together against people who decid to mistreat him , such as she did. Perhaps it's just the petulant child in me speaking, but in any case. She also happened to be present at an impressionable time in my life, not to mention being the female present when I got my first period (While reading x-files books. It's amazing the details you remember). So I must grugingly acnowledge her influence.
Odd to think at times. But my family life has always been the women, sitting at the kitchen table. That's the way it works- The women sit around the table and talk, the men go into the room and watch sport, the kids go out and play in the yard. Neat, clear distinctions on place and mode, although I myself recognise my inferiority to these women and hold my tongue. Besides, they actually listen to me when I talk, and that is quite possibly one of the most disconcerting things to have happen to you when it's your own words coming out of your mouth. Especially since the only thing that comes out is crap, which I know to be absolutely ridiculous the second it comes out. Thankfully, once it's spoken, it is dismissed as the drivle of a child who has an education. And all is as it should be.

"Go ahead. Make my quiche."
~Magrat, 'Lords and ladies'.
- posted by Washi @ 7:01 pm