Rise of the Fallen 722nd

Writing prompts are not my cup of tea.

Not that I have a snobbish attitude toward them, anything that gets the creative juices flowing and entices a person to write is okay in my book. Hell, I’ve even participated in a few hashtag games on Twitter, but none of the suggested prompt words, sentences, paragraphs, or pictures ever truly inspired me.

Until I stumbled upon the Noriyoshi Orai artwork shown above.

Blindsided by an idea, I began scribbling notes of an alien invasion futuristic war that keeps pushing its way further and further into Earth’s past with the intention of creating a zugzwang (a situation in which the obligation to make a move in one’s turn is a serious, often decisive, disadvantage) story using a fairy tale twist.

Why a fairy tale?

Because the old ones are replete with heavy messages, drenched in the misfortunes of the world, and yet faith, perseverance, and sometimes sheer luck, can turn the tide in overcoming life’s trials. I wanted to present it as an old story, told in archaic language, laced with a subtle message still relevant to the modern world.

If you ever want to hear your muse laugh, tell her your lofty goals for a story before you’ve actually written it.

“Rise of the Fallen 722nd” began life as a story examining patriotism, loyalty, ingenuity, and the enduring human spirit in the face of the ultimate no-win scenario. The outline wasn’t difficult to put on paper. The story itself? That’s a different matter altogether. This little darling of mine went through the draft mill forty-nine times, each revision drastically different from the one before. Only one patch of dialogue survived from the original piece.

Futuristic war? Check. Progressing forward into the past? Check. Zugzwang? Double check. Fairy tale twist? Not so much. The fairy tale elements weakened the integrity of the overall structure and sadly had to be put down like Old Yeller. Still, it’s been fun (and frustrating) to write. And I’m not done with it. They say the fiftieth time’s the charm, right?

Wish me luck.

To Sow, Perchance To Reap

book-honbachi2

The world is full of folks who appreciate nature and the great outdoors to the point of creating a mental happy place of some idyllic green pasture.

That ain’t me.

City boy born and bred. Concrete, glass and steel comprise my Garden of Eden. Yet, despite not being blessed with a green thumb, I planted something today.

An idea.

Okay, idea is a bit of a stretch. It’s more like a plot germ. As it stands, it’s a weak and feeble thing prematurely delivered into the world that requires incubation, so I decided to commit it to the ground at the back of beyond in my mind and ignore it until it has the strength to claw its way out of the story grave.

But don’t feel too sorry for it, though. It’s not alone. It’s planted beside random bits of cool dialogue that I’ll never be able to work into a real-world conversation and nebulous set pieces that don’t quite mesh with any of my existing stories. They’re all tucked away in my own personal mental pet cemetery.

The soil of a writer’s mind is stonier; a writer grows what they can imagine and scribes it.

Apologies for the bastardization of your quote, Mr. King.

And no, I won’t tell you what the plot germ is. Not out of fear of it being stolen but simply because:

  1. You wouldn’t understand it in its present form, and
  2. I’m not superstitious but I firmly believe in the dreaded jinx. If I tell you what it is, it’ll never grow.

So, I will go about my business and occupy my mind with trivialities and allow my subconscious to absently weed my preemie idea seed.

I’ll wait until it breaks free of its chrysalis as a brain-soil stained vision with roots that encircle the heart of a story that I cannot wait to write.

Until then, I’ll follow the sage advice of Mssr. Ron Popeil, hawker of the infamous Showtime Rotisserie Oven and, “Set it and forget it.”

©2018 Rhyan Scorpio-Rhys

Creative Commons License

 

The Audience Has Spoken: They Want Stories

Kevin Spacey delivered the keynote James MacTaggart Memorial Lecture at the Edinburgh Television Festival, in which he challenged TV channels to give “control” to their audiences or risk losing them. Using as a model his recent foray into television, House Of Cards — a commercial and critical hit after it was released on streaming service Netflix – he warned there was a danger of “thinking that something which is working now will necessarily work a year from now.”

If you weren’t aware, Netflix released the entire season of House Of Cards at once, which in the actor’s words, “demonstrated that we have learned the lesson that the music industry didn’t learn — give people what they want, when they want it, in the form they want it in, at a reasonable price, and they’ll more likely pay for it rather than steal it.”

When you watch the clip you’ll notice that it’s heavily geared toward television content distribution but there’s a message for you, the writer, in there as well that isn’t limited to TV writing, and your inspirational takeaway from this should be:

“The audience has spoken. They want stories. They’re dying for them. All we have to do is give it to them.” — Kevin Spacey

Sally forth and be writeful.

— Rhyan Scorpio-Rhys