Time Is On My Side

Oh, time. How are we supposed to think about you? Are you linear with a firm past, present, and future? Or are you cyclical, repeating yourself occasionally?

 

This past weekend, I watched another great episode of Breaking Bad, which is in its fifth (and, lamentably, final) season. Every time I watch a new episode, I try to pinpoint exactly what it is that I love so much about the show. It grips me in a way that few other programs can, and the usual analysis of acting, character development, plot progression, and more can yield potent reasons for why it’s such a fantastic show.

However, I realized that one of the many reasons why I enjoy the show so much is how it handles time.

Most shows provide a very linear progression to their plots. You meet the characters, find out their motivations and goals, and watch them try to achieve those goals. Sometimes they succeed, sometimes they fail, but events are pretty straightforward. Sure, there are some flashback sequences, but for the most part, things progress linearly towards a climax sometime in the future.

Not so with Breaking Bad.

Walter White, Breaking Bad, Final Season

Each season begins or at some point includes a glimpse into the future:  a scene introduces us to an event that won’t take place until the middle or end of the current season. A season might open with destroyed objects—burned toys for instance—and as the season progresses, we try to figure out what exactly happened: why are those items destroyed? Was there an explosion? Was someone killed? Maybe a major character?

It creates a unique kind of tension because you know that something bad will happen, but you don’t know when, how, or why. Everything you see on the show is framed by that one event: is THAT person going to cause the explosion or whatever destroyed those objects? Is THIS why they decided to go there? You just don’t know!

It’s a storytelling technique that has absolutely captivated me, and I find myself testing it out in my own writing. It’s a tease, a “hey, this is going to happen, but you don’t know why, and whatever conclusions you come up with now are going to be challenged as you read/watch more!”

But I’ve also read many books on writing that frown upon these kinds of techniques. Flashbacks and scenes set in the future take readers out of the present action, they say, and thus have the potential to bore and/or disorient readers who want to know what’s happening right now.

Well, if you’ve been following my blog for a bit, you already know how I feel about some of these “rules.”

But what do you think? How do you enjoy time in books and movies? Do you enjoy flashbacks and scenes in the future, or do you prefer linear storytelling?

Focus & Discipline in The Idea Factory

Discipline.

I’m starting to think that perhaps I’m lacking a tad bit of it.

Not the discipline to sit down and write mind you. I’ve been doing more and more of that lately (pats self on back). Rather I lack the discipline to stick with one idea and run with it. It’s like the opposite of writer’s block (writer’s flood?).

My brain is a factory that keeps churning out ideas, and as soon as a new one pops out of my noggin, I feel an overwhelming desire to write about it. And I do.

Recently, while working on my zombie novel, I came up with ideas for two completely different novels: one deals with a group of teens who dive into dreams and memories (memories have been a recurring theme in my last few blog posts). Their shared dreamworld is a sanctuary from the outside world, which is pretty harsh on them.

The other is a novel that takes place in a world where mythological creatures of all kinds coexist. The main character is called a Judge who keeps the peace between all of the differing factions of beasts. This novel speaks of my love of mythology (especially Norse mythology).

The descriptions above are the barebones version, of course; I’ve fleshed each out in a document. But the more time I spend on them, the less time I spend on my main novel.

So, for all the writers, painters, musicians, filmmakers, or anyone else who feels the pull of opposing ideas, how do you stay disciplined and work on just one idea at a time? Or have you come up with a way to multi-task and dip into all of those freshly minted ideas? I need to get all of the lil’ homunculus in my head working towards the same goal. 🙂

A Master’s Work: Deceivingly Simple

I’ve always been fascinated by Bob Ross and The Joy of Painting. I suspect he sold his soul to the Devil for the ability to create masterpieces with little effort (and for his epic afro).

However, Bob Ross is an example of a master of his craft: he makes painting look easy but in fact it takes skill and practice to do what he does. He makes viewers believe that if they just take up a paintbrush and set up an easel, they too can graze the canvas with brushstrokes to create happy little clouds and snow covered mountains. But it must have taken him years to perfect his methods.

This seems to be a sure sign of a master; no matter how difficult the task, he/she makes it seem so simple. I’ve found that to be true of authors as well as actors and painters.

Good writing is so fluid, so well put together, it gives you the impression that the author wrote her book with no difficulty at all and got it right the first time. What we don’t see are the countless drafts, the time spent editing and rewriting, and the frustration the author must have experienced to produce the book we hold in our hands.

The same kind of magic is on display on cooking shows. Ever noticed how your favorite cooks are able to chop those vegetables so easily and create scrumptious dishes with a wave of a knife? Try doing it yourself, and the Giada’s 15 minute recipe turns into an hour long gag-fest . . . if you haven’t been practicing your cooking enough.

So the road to mastery–if it’s even a goal we can ever truly reach–is a long one, paved with repetition, hardship, and error, but the end result never betrays the hard work involved. It makes you go “hmm, I could do that!” And you can, but only if you put the work into refining your craft.

And as I resume work on my novel, that gives me some comfort. 🙂

What do you think are the signs of a master?

Your Environment Is A Muse?

Does sunlight help or hurt a zombie novel?

Do rainy nights enhance love scenes?

Will snow make turn that next art project into a masterpiece?

I often wonder about the effects of our environment on our creativity. Right now, pure beams of sunlight are pouring through my window and warming up my skin. The sky is a rich blue canvas, and the smell of what little trees exist in New York is infiltrating my apartment.

Sunny New York

I can’t help but feel inspired to write at moments likes these.

Then again, I feel inspired to write during rainy days too, when the clouds are heavy and the air is moist.

Both kinds of weather inspire different kinds of writing, different songs while I write, different thoughts, different moods.

And it’s not just the weather: location is important too. I’m sure that if I took my laptop outside and wrote in a nearby park, my thoughts would change again. Writing a gloomy zombie apocalypse tale under a glorious sun with kids running around you definitely has a different feel to it. 🙂

What about you? Does the weather or where you’re sitting (your home, the office, out in a park) affect how you write or paint?