I'm learning Python. Most people are. 'Learn to code', they said. So here we are. What I didn't expect is how learning a digital language would help me wield the analog ones.
As Stephen King explained in his 2000 partial autobiography 'On Writing', putting words on the page amounts to "telepathy, of course." You take an abstract thought or emotion in your head, you express it using words and syntax. You then offer these words to others for them to use to reconstruct that thought or emotion in their own heads. Do it right, and telepathy it is. More importantly, it is also coding.
When you code, you learn to define things in the right order so that the computer will not be confused. You learn to build your code in modules that connect together, to link sections of your code to others so that they may effect recall, influence each other and work together to deliver the experience that you are aiming for. Much of this is also true in fiction.
What coding really helps you do as a writer is structure your story, down to the sentences. When you write with coding in mind, you keep things clear for your audience. This makes sure to avoid what Alfred Hitchcock defined as "one of the fatal things (...) to have a mind that is confused. Otherwise the audience won’t emote." Coding connects you to emotions. How about that?
Another thing that coding forces you to do is to take the big picture into account. You can't just start writing code and discover your program as you go, which is how a lot of fiction is written. I believe this takes tremendous time and effort, which could be spent more productively on planning and structure. Coding must be planned from beginning to end in order to function properly. If you plan your story in the same way, taking into account how each portion of it, or scene, connects to the others, in the right order, in the right way, then I believe your story will improve drastically. Big picture before details, and pennies will take care of themselves.
Now, everyone has their own technique that works for them. This must be respected. However, one can also consider alternatives along the way. By being open to new solutions, you might just find an aspect of the craft that eluded you thus far. And when you do, it will make you a better writer.
Coding is a language. Learning to code is learning to speak to a computer. Since computers are starting to become intelligent, shouldn't we all consider how coding can help us communicate better with each other?
Feel free to comment on this at your leisure. I look forward to your thoughts.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Wednesday, 18 September 2019
Monday, 3 July 2017
Teaching as constructive virus
The French chemist Antoine Lavoisier once said: "In nature nothing is created, nothing is lost, everything changes." This has proven to be true in physics, chemistry and many other scientific fields. Energy is transferred as it is used, changing from friction to heat, from light to electricity and more. Money is transformed into goods and services, with value-added turning back into money in the process. Time is converted into ideas, practice into value, money into wealth, which in turn provides time. The process appears to be universal and self-contained.
However, it seems that teaching is the exception.
When you teach, you share a piece of knowledge with someone. You are not left poorer by the experience. In other words, you have not lost anything in the process, merely invested a little time. However, in that time, other people have gained knowledge, which they in turn can spread further and farther in an exponential fashion. It becomes a viral experience.
When you acquire new knowledge, your brain rewires itself to accommodate this knowledge within its intellectual grasp. Much like a hard drive reconfigures its bits of zeroes and ones to go from an empty formatted disk to one full of data, the brain changes its neuronal maps as it learns. It does not weigh more, like the hard disk, but it contains more.
However, unlike the hard disk, the change is not merely a rearrangement of its physical self, but an evolution. Knowledge impacts not just what you know, but how you think. Therefore, teaching something to someone changes who they are, both intellectually and physically. Their brain is left physiologically altered by the experience. No matter how much they forget, they will forever be transformed by this learning experience. And it is highly likely that they will affect others in turn.
Teaching therefore proves to be an exception to Lavoisier's rule. Whereas a digital copy of an original file merely reconfigures a drive's bits without actually changing it, a teacher who delivers a lectures creates a new version of her students, who then go on to affect change and to create other versions of people with whom they share this knowledge.
In some way, teaching is a form of magic, a violation of nature's rule in the most beautiful sense.
Go out and teach. Share what you know. Create.
Be the exception that spreads.
However, it seems that teaching is the exception.
When you teach, you share a piece of knowledge with someone. You are not left poorer by the experience. In other words, you have not lost anything in the process, merely invested a little time. However, in that time, other people have gained knowledge, which they in turn can spread further and farther in an exponential fashion. It becomes a viral experience.
When you acquire new knowledge, your brain rewires itself to accommodate this knowledge within its intellectual grasp. Much like a hard drive reconfigures its bits of zeroes and ones to go from an empty formatted disk to one full of data, the brain changes its neuronal maps as it learns. It does not weigh more, like the hard disk, but it contains more.
However, unlike the hard disk, the change is not merely a rearrangement of its physical self, but an evolution. Knowledge impacts not just what you know, but how you think. Therefore, teaching something to someone changes who they are, both intellectually and physically. Their brain is left physiologically altered by the experience. No matter how much they forget, they will forever be transformed by this learning experience. And it is highly likely that they will affect others in turn.
Teaching therefore proves to be an exception to Lavoisier's rule. Whereas a digital copy of an original file merely reconfigures a drive's bits without actually changing it, a teacher who delivers a lectures creates a new version of her students, who then go on to affect change and to create other versions of people with whom they share this knowledge.
In some way, teaching is a form of magic, a violation of nature's rule in the most beautiful sense.
Go out and teach. Share what you know. Create.
Be the exception that spreads.
Sunday, 4 September 2016
Reading when writing
It's very tempting to read when you write. It provides motivation, a sounding board, a distraction for those who like to procrastinate (something Oscar-winning screenwriter Aaron Sorkin calls 'thinking'). It also feels like a reassuring proof that stories do find an audience, that they do reach readers. That they matter.
It's dangerous to read when you write. Very often, another writer's style will creep into your own, invading your words with their signature quips and tags. It's a natural thing to let that happen. It can even be a crutch. However, I advise against it, however comfortable it might seem.
Writing is an intense affair, at least in my case. I try to write as quickly as possible, ideally at the same speed as the average person reads so that I can have a sense of how the story will flow from their point of view. It's challenging, to say the least, but I find that I'm more of a sprinter when it comes to words on the page. If I read at the same time, my mind blends everything into one single thread that I find hard to unravel. That means the book I'm reading becomes the book I'm writing. It's not plagiarism but it definitely borders on the incestuous.
Reading in the same genre as the one you're writing in can be a double edged sword. It can guide you a little in terms of atmosphere and pace. It can serve as a reference or as inspiration, sparking the right idea at the right time. However, it can also exert undue influence on your story direction and on your narrative choices. You might accelerate a chapter that you had intended to be simmering and contemplative, just because you read a faster sequence in the other book. You might be tempted to replicate something your read just because it's easy. Don't.
And ideally, don't read when you write.
The only way I found to read without impeding on my writing is to either read in a different language, or in a completely different genre, ideally non-fiction. This approach lets you separate your work clearly from that of the author you're reading. It also lets you have that little reading reward after a day of hard writing, without getting in the way of your own words.
I'm reading READY PLAYER ONE by Ernest Cline right now, and I'm doing that while I'm still writing my own sci-fi novel BLUE GENE. It's messing with my head, mainly due to Cline's incredible sense of depth and detail, something I tend to let go in favour of pace and dialogue. I just have to accept that I'm writing a different way. It's hard to keep faith though, and I just pray and hope that the story I'm telling stands up to scrutiny.
Only time will tell.
I'm just going to read a few pages now. Just a few. Then I'll write a few of my own.
Just a few.
It's dangerous to read when you write. Very often, another writer's style will creep into your own, invading your words with their signature quips and tags. It's a natural thing to let that happen. It can even be a crutch. However, I advise against it, however comfortable it might seem.
Writing is an intense affair, at least in my case. I try to write as quickly as possible, ideally at the same speed as the average person reads so that I can have a sense of how the story will flow from their point of view. It's challenging, to say the least, but I find that I'm more of a sprinter when it comes to words on the page. If I read at the same time, my mind blends everything into one single thread that I find hard to unravel. That means the book I'm reading becomes the book I'm writing. It's not plagiarism but it definitely borders on the incestuous.
Reading in the same genre as the one you're writing in can be a double edged sword. It can guide you a little in terms of atmosphere and pace. It can serve as a reference or as inspiration, sparking the right idea at the right time. However, it can also exert undue influence on your story direction and on your narrative choices. You might accelerate a chapter that you had intended to be simmering and contemplative, just because you read a faster sequence in the other book. You might be tempted to replicate something your read just because it's easy. Don't.
And ideally, don't read when you write.
The only way I found to read without impeding on my writing is to either read in a different language, or in a completely different genre, ideally non-fiction. This approach lets you separate your work clearly from that of the author you're reading. It also lets you have that little reading reward after a day of hard writing, without getting in the way of your own words.
I'm reading READY PLAYER ONE by Ernest Cline right now, and I'm doing that while I'm still writing my own sci-fi novel BLUE GENE. It's messing with my head, mainly due to Cline's incredible sense of depth and detail, something I tend to let go in favour of pace and dialogue. I just have to accept that I'm writing a different way. It's hard to keep faith though, and I just pray and hope that the story I'm telling stands up to scrutiny.
Only time will tell.
I'm just going to read a few pages now. Just a few. Then I'll write a few of my own.
Just a few.
Saturday, 27 August 2016
Shape The Story - a new initiative
Authors usually want to control everything, particularly what happens on the page. As they should, since that is the very essence of writing stories for others to read. However, there are areas where such a proprietary approach might be limiting.
Consider the possibility of taking someone else's story and pilfering it for content to feed your own narrative, even using some of their characters and taking them in an entirely different direction. Plagiarism? Some might call it inspiration. Others, merely research. The author of the original story will most likely call it outright theft and will promptly take you to court. Consider, therefore, what would happen if that original author did... absolutely nothing.
Well, the first thing would be that the author would have suggestions, in the form of a new story, of where to take their own characters next. The author might find yet more characters in the new work that they might like to bring into their own story universe. There might be ingenious story arcs in this new work that the original author had never thought of, new paths for his or her original characters to explore. The original author might well find all sorts of new and exciting avenues to experiment with.
What about the readers? Those who might have read the original author's work would most likely be intrigued by this new story. They might find a different tone that lets them see the original author's work in a new light. Most importantly, some readers will discover the original author only once they have read the new author's story. In essence, letting go of their work lets the original author embrace a broader audience and a wider story world.
There is, of course, the case of remuneration. The original author might want to protect his or her copyright of their story and everything it contains. But how does someone else taking the story in a fresh and new direction, using the same characters, harm the author's revenue stream? Some would argue it actually increases it, since it allows new readers to discover the author's work. What really matters here is who is doing the writing. The original author did not write the new story, just as the new author did not write the original story. Everyone receives the revenue that matches the work they put in. So in fact, people make more money as a whole with this approach, and readers have more variety of content at their disposal.
Encouraged by this positive conclusion (which many people may hate me for, and I respect their opinion along with their compulsion to tear me a new orifice somewhere unpleasant and probably painful), I have designed a new writing platform, aimed at teenagers, which follows this very concept.
The platform will have a soft launch in October 2017 and will be called 'Shape The Story'.
There will be much to discuss once this launch happens, and I look forward to the many interesting conversations that are sure to take place once this project takes off.
Every idea comes from another idea. We just need to make peace with this notion in order to open up a whole new world of creative possibilities.
Consider the possibility of taking someone else's story and pilfering it for content to feed your own narrative, even using some of their characters and taking them in an entirely different direction. Plagiarism? Some might call it inspiration. Others, merely research. The author of the original story will most likely call it outright theft and will promptly take you to court. Consider, therefore, what would happen if that original author did... absolutely nothing.
Well, the first thing would be that the author would have suggestions, in the form of a new story, of where to take their own characters next. The author might find yet more characters in the new work that they might like to bring into their own story universe. There might be ingenious story arcs in this new work that the original author had never thought of, new paths for his or her original characters to explore. The original author might well find all sorts of new and exciting avenues to experiment with.
What about the readers? Those who might have read the original author's work would most likely be intrigued by this new story. They might find a different tone that lets them see the original author's work in a new light. Most importantly, some readers will discover the original author only once they have read the new author's story. In essence, letting go of their work lets the original author embrace a broader audience and a wider story world.
There is, of course, the case of remuneration. The original author might want to protect his or her copyright of their story and everything it contains. But how does someone else taking the story in a fresh and new direction, using the same characters, harm the author's revenue stream? Some would argue it actually increases it, since it allows new readers to discover the author's work. What really matters here is who is doing the writing. The original author did not write the new story, just as the new author did not write the original story. Everyone receives the revenue that matches the work they put in. So in fact, people make more money as a whole with this approach, and readers have more variety of content at their disposal.
Encouraged by this positive conclusion (which many people may hate me for, and I respect their opinion along with their compulsion to tear me a new orifice somewhere unpleasant and probably painful), I have designed a new writing platform, aimed at teenagers, which follows this very concept.
The platform will have a soft launch in October 2017 and will be called 'Shape The Story'.
There will be much to discuss once this launch happens, and I look forward to the many interesting conversations that are sure to take place once this project takes off.
Every idea comes from another idea. We just need to make peace with this notion in order to open up a whole new world of creative possibilities.
Monday, 21 September 2015
Structure as the bedrock of writing
Many people don't like structure. They find it limiting, they feel trapped or worse, formulaic. I've always found structure to be like a recipe - you follow the guidelines but you're still free to improvise. At the end of the day, you're baking your own cake, so to Hell with the consequences!
I believe that constraints are necessary for creative minds to focus. The very nature of creativity is to always strive to expand. In order to complete a novel, a screenplay, a symphony or a painting, constraints will keep the work grounded and accessible to an audience. This is the most important part of the creative process, in my opinion. If you create something that no-one understands, then no-one can appreciate it. You might as well have created in a vacuum. The self satisfaction of creating something will remain intact, of course, but I believe there is more to it than that.
Particularly for the written word, structure has time and again produced masterpieces while only in rare instances has complete freedom and anarchy given birth to anything resembling glorious achievement. Think of the rule of stenza and rhyme in poetry, of the rigid act structure of Shakespearian theater, or of the commercially imposed yet highly successful TV half hour format for series. Constraints borne of structure will lend strength to your work. It's an inevitable consequence, and I believe it should be embraced.
I consistently map out my stories along the classic three-act structure. I even make sure that my turning points are spaced out according to screenplay rules, every tenth of the story. It helps me organise my thoughts. It lets me check for rhythm issues, character arcs, balance in pace and many more important factors. It's a lifeline, not a crutch.
Structure also helps you overcome writers block, since you have consistently present goals to write towards. What's on my plate today? Oh yes, that's right, I have to take my main character from the story mid-point to the great failure moment of the story, all within five chapters. Piece of cake, let's fire up the keys.
Does it make me a better writer? Most definitely, and it also lets me improve my crafting skills since I spend less time writing and more time planning. This affords me more time to try out ideas without wasting valuable writing time. It means that when I do put words to the page, they are backed by thorough research and careful story planning. You learn a lot faster whether your plot works when you edit a story plan rather than a full manuscript. That way, when you do sit down to write, it's for the good stuff. The honey. The gold.
I respect writers and artists who refuse structure and firmly state they don't want to compromise their art. However, I believe that the art is more in the result than the process, since the audience only sees the result. This is why I research, plan and only start writing when I know every angle, every line of dialogue and every plot point. Then writing becomes the reward.
The author should always know where he or she is going. The reader is the one discovering the plot at every turn of the page. The reader trusts you to entertain, to explain and to challenge her. As the author, I am the one with the keys to the kingdom.
I have the map, and I'll take you on the ride. Join me?
I believe that constraints are necessary for creative minds to focus. The very nature of creativity is to always strive to expand. In order to complete a novel, a screenplay, a symphony or a painting, constraints will keep the work grounded and accessible to an audience. This is the most important part of the creative process, in my opinion. If you create something that no-one understands, then no-one can appreciate it. You might as well have created in a vacuum. The self satisfaction of creating something will remain intact, of course, but I believe there is more to it than that.
Particularly for the written word, structure has time and again produced masterpieces while only in rare instances has complete freedom and anarchy given birth to anything resembling glorious achievement. Think of the rule of stenza and rhyme in poetry, of the rigid act structure of Shakespearian theater, or of the commercially imposed yet highly successful TV half hour format for series. Constraints borne of structure will lend strength to your work. It's an inevitable consequence, and I believe it should be embraced.
I consistently map out my stories along the classic three-act structure. I even make sure that my turning points are spaced out according to screenplay rules, every tenth of the story. It helps me organise my thoughts. It lets me check for rhythm issues, character arcs, balance in pace and many more important factors. It's a lifeline, not a crutch.
Structure also helps you overcome writers block, since you have consistently present goals to write towards. What's on my plate today? Oh yes, that's right, I have to take my main character from the story mid-point to the great failure moment of the story, all within five chapters. Piece of cake, let's fire up the keys.
Does it make me a better writer? Most definitely, and it also lets me improve my crafting skills since I spend less time writing and more time planning. This affords me more time to try out ideas without wasting valuable writing time. It means that when I do put words to the page, they are backed by thorough research and careful story planning. You learn a lot faster whether your plot works when you edit a story plan rather than a full manuscript. That way, when you do sit down to write, it's for the good stuff. The honey. The gold.
I respect writers and artists who refuse structure and firmly state they don't want to compromise their art. However, I believe that the art is more in the result than the process, since the audience only sees the result. This is why I research, plan and only start writing when I know every angle, every line of dialogue and every plot point. Then writing becomes the reward.
The author should always know where he or she is going. The reader is the one discovering the plot at every turn of the page. The reader trusts you to entertain, to explain and to challenge her. As the author, I am the one with the keys to the kingdom.
I have the map, and I'll take you on the ride. Join me?
Tuesday, 18 February 2014
Storytelling as chemistry
It all started with a glance at a link I found on Twitter: http://designthroughstorytelling.net/periodic/
It's author, James Harris, has put together a Periodic Table of Storytelling, complete with Identifier, Trope name and Popularity factor measured in kilowiks (thousands of links to its page via the wiki). First off, the kilowik belongs up there with the jigowatt as a cool measure of power. Also, not only is the Table very pleasing to the eye, it also represents a spectacularly creative way of looking at the storytelling world.
First off, the bottom of the page reminds us about the basis of chemistry, which is that elements seek to assemble and react off each other. This is exactly what Harris' Periodic Table encourages: assemble these elements into storytelling molecules and voila! You have the core of a story.
I firmly believe in the power of framework. Like recipes, frameworks are tools you can use to build your own story. The same framework will be used by different authors to construct different stories. It's not something to be feared or neglected. Just because you have a recipe doesn't mean you can cook, but it shows you the way and it helps you reach your goal. Frameworks let you concentrate on the flesh of your story, where the blood flows and where life is born. The bones are just the carcass, there to support the rest. That's what a framework is.
So when Harris' presents storytelling as building blocks, it breaks down the barriers that prevent people from attempting to write in the first place. It lets you see storytelling as something you can build, change, play with and fine tune. It presents a story as a living entity, able to adapt and to connect with other stories, thoughts or people. It shows you stories as the natural occurrence of everyday combinations. It puts stories within people's reach.
Beyond the sheer endurance that Harris must have deployed to put together this fantastic Periodic Table, it's the crystal clear vision that the man has for narrative that really blew my mind. You have to love stories deeply in order to be able to break them down so well, so thoroughly and so concisely. It takes affection for the medium and the form. Well done James.
Stories can be built. Stories can be assembled. Like any structure, it then requires polish and adjustment in order for the pieces to fit together seamlessly. That is where a writer's voice shines through. Some spend hours and days trying to re-invent the classic three act plot, while others write on the shoulders of giants and tell their stories high and loud.
To each his own. For me, it's just about the chemistry.
It's author, James Harris, has put together a Periodic Table of Storytelling, complete with Identifier, Trope name and Popularity factor measured in kilowiks (thousands of links to its page via the wiki). First off, the kilowik belongs up there with the jigowatt as a cool measure of power. Also, not only is the Table very pleasing to the eye, it also represents a spectacularly creative way of looking at the storytelling world.
First off, the bottom of the page reminds us about the basis of chemistry, which is that elements seek to assemble and react off each other. This is exactly what Harris' Periodic Table encourages: assemble these elements into storytelling molecules and voila! You have the core of a story.
I firmly believe in the power of framework. Like recipes, frameworks are tools you can use to build your own story. The same framework will be used by different authors to construct different stories. It's not something to be feared or neglected. Just because you have a recipe doesn't mean you can cook, but it shows you the way and it helps you reach your goal. Frameworks let you concentrate on the flesh of your story, where the blood flows and where life is born. The bones are just the carcass, there to support the rest. That's what a framework is.
So when Harris' presents storytelling as building blocks, it breaks down the barriers that prevent people from attempting to write in the first place. It lets you see storytelling as something you can build, change, play with and fine tune. It presents a story as a living entity, able to adapt and to connect with other stories, thoughts or people. It shows you stories as the natural occurrence of everyday combinations. It puts stories within people's reach.
Beyond the sheer endurance that Harris must have deployed to put together this fantastic Periodic Table, it's the crystal clear vision that the man has for narrative that really blew my mind. You have to love stories deeply in order to be able to break them down so well, so thoroughly and so concisely. It takes affection for the medium and the form. Well done James.
Stories can be built. Stories can be assembled. Like any structure, it then requires polish and adjustment in order for the pieces to fit together seamlessly. That is where a writer's voice shines through. Some spend hours and days trying to re-invent the classic three act plot, while others write on the shoulders of giants and tell their stories high and loud.
To each his own. For me, it's just about the chemistry.
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