Composition

Back when I was a young whipper snapper, oh - must be around the time of the Ice Age - when I went to school we got "Composition".  That's what they called stories back then.  For a long time I thought it was just a fancy name that looked better on the front of your jotter than "stories".  Because as far as I could tell there was no difference.  

But composition is important, indeed crucial, to telling a good story (not that I learned that in school - the word itself was all I remember being taught).

I've come back to this recently because, in my quest to improve as an amateur artist I have encountered some interesting advice that pertains to writing as well as art. And it's this:  If you have trouble finishing a project, it's likely that the composition is wrong and no amount of tinkering will ever make it right.

So what is composition?  In art, it's the arrangement of elements in your picture. For a picture to be effective it has to be composed well from the outset, or the planning stage.  We need to be aware of the focal point - the punchline if you like.  Where is the eye drawn?  What is the ultimate point?

And stories are the same.  What is the message, or point of the story?  Are all the elements arranged to lead the reader to that point or does it lose focus?  In other words, is the story composed in such a way to carry the reader to the conclusion we want?

So, if you are constantly tinkering with a story and can't seem to get to a satisfactory conclusion, maybe your composition is off.  Maybe the characters aren't the best fit, or the setting, or the events.  It's food for thought.

Sketching Characters

I'm currently trying to sketch my son as an exercise.  I'm using a photo taken a few years ago.  To simplify it, I've reduced the image to black and white and trying out different techniques, papers and materials to see which is easiest to use and get the best results.  It's an interesting process.  Each time I do a new sketch I end up with something quite different.
Characters are like that, for me anyway.  Nailing a character is like trying to achieve a likeness in a sketch.  It's all about knowing what to include, and what to leave out.  Some details help inform a character, make him real and identifiable.  Get something crucial wrong and you throw the whole sketch out of whack.  Similarly acting out of character throws the reader out of the story.  It's one of those tripping up moments.


So how do you form your characters before you start?  Some authorities recommend writing out full bios, or character statements.  I think anything helps if it gets you into the mind of that character.  Some people start blogs and write it in the character's voice.  That's a good one for exploring background and attitudes.  But any time spent on this exercise is not wasted, because the Devil, as they say, is in the detail.  Get your character right and you'll create someone real that people want to read about.  And that's half the battle.

What Not To Write Part 2

I'm dabbling in art again.  Every few years I get the itch to paint things, but this time I'm sketching.  The urge comes and goes and I go with the flow.  But I've been reading a fascinating book called Drawing On The Right Side of the Brain by Betty Edwards.  It's very likely you've heard of it, being a classic in its revolutionary approach to drawing.  Everyone can draw, she says.  The problem is not in the hand or the eye, but in the brain.  Your brain has certain preconceived templates, or gestalt, into which it fits the sensory stimuli it receives.  That's why we tend to draw what we expect to see, rather than what we actually see.  Artists must learn to overcome their own brain to get to the reality, the truth of the world before them.


To help with this she suggests copying from inverted images.  Turn a person's photograph upside down and you no longer see the person but a mass of light and shade.  It's harder to copy because there are no preconceived ideas to hang the blobs on, but the results are astonishingly accurate.  In this way we bypass our own filtering system to find something more real.


And it's making me think about how I write.  Isn't that a filtering process too?  Do I really tell it like it is?  Can I tell it like it is?  Is there some way to overcome the gestalt?

Perhaps the way to do this is to write around the story, the way Edwards advocates drawing what isn't the subject.  Our brains are programmed to join the dots and fill in the missing information.  Screen actors know this principle; the single most differentiating feature of screen acting is the blank face onto which the audience project their own feelings.  Use only streaks of light and shade, the well chosen word and curious phrase, enough to suggest what is happening.  Less is more.

What is a Writer?

Someone once said (I'm too old and brain addled to remember who) you can serve truth or you can serve money, but you can't serve both. He must have been a regular viewer of Question Time.

But it's a poser. What is a writer for? To tell the truth as he/she sees it, or to chase the money and write what people want?

Why not both? The trouble with the truth is it's more often than not unpalatable. And what is truth anyway? Isn't it just your personal view of things? What is truth, exactly?

Is art the expression of truth? I believe real art comes out of us unconsciously, in our unguarded moments when we aren't intending to give ourselves away. But it's hard to pin down, like pictures our minds create in the leaves on a tree or the clouds in the sky.

Maybe I should leave the last word on the subject to Bukowski.