Story Telling...
I have discovered a secret passion recently. I guess I have always known, but I have never really given it a name. Or, maybe, I have never really even thought of giving it a name. Anyway, just to end the useless drivel, I want to be a storyteller. They are fascinating things, the story - slices of life that have some sort of point (though, I love the stories most that end ambigously). They are messages from the author who have something to say. I love them. I think, what I have learned most over the course of the last few months, is the ablity to just sit back and watch. I try not to interact (though it is hard at times), but just watch and observe. I think my lack of "getting involved" or inhibitions in certain areas of my life have simply been a result of just watching. I see stories around me everyday, and have taken great pleasures in just watching them. I can think of several incidents today where I just enjoyed watching, analyzing, and catalouging heros, losers, antigonists, protagonists, plots, settings, tones, etc. for some sort of future story I wish to tell. How is it going to end? What is next? What does the future hold? What is the message? Heck, a friend of mine today commented, "Yeah, you have done a great job in just watching!" That, I have. I don't know if this a good thing, or a bad thing. Quite frankly, I don't care. It's about the story. I love to watch the story.
All my passions have to deal with story telling. Movies! I love them! I study them. I ingest them! I disect them! The bottom line? They are stories! My recent surge in reading (though I haven't really read much lately) is a result in learning how the author tells the story. My sudden interest in doing these blog things, all preparations to tell some sort of story!
Gosh, I can remember when it all began. It was in college. I was in some strange funk, and thought it best to "see" my thoughts on the printed page just so I could figure out what the hell was happening. I bought a journal and titled it "The Nothing." That's how I felt at the time. That's how I saw myself. That's where I sort of felt I belonged. The Nothing was merely that, too. It was nothing. It was a short collection of bullshit. But, inside was one of my first short stories. It was called, "The Little Engine that Couldn't, because damnit, it just wasn't good enough." Yes, the ending from the title could be easily figured out. The little engine exploded killing everybody. But, that story taught me two things. First, it taught me to never give the ending away in the title. Second, it pointed the way to a bizzare fascination with the obsurd. I love the obsurd. But, after I wrote the story, I spent time just walking around looking at things and asking myself, "what if?" So, for example, I wondered what if somebody poisoned Spam. Why would anybody poison Spam? Spam isn't all that great. BUT, it resulted in short story where somebody did just that.
Here are some examples of my resulting short story "what ifs:"
What if Adsheet Distributors suddenly decided to kill? (College thing). I wrote "Yellow means Evil."
What if a bird asked "what if" questions? I wrote, "Life" and a bird was eaten by a cat.
What if a person just smoked too much, he actually just turned into tar? I wrote "Tar." It was an anti-smoking story I wrote while, well, smoking. How ironic!
What if a bicycle just spontaneously combusts? I wrote "Little Blue Bicycle."
What if a statue comes to life and kills people? I wrote "Alma Mater", which was about that. I made myself the hero in that one.
What if you have a Dark Lord simply named Bob? I am working on a third segment of that story. I just haven't quite hammered out the details. I have the rough, but shelved it for reasons that should be obvious if ever read.
The point being, I think of something simply stupid, and I built stories around them, which were very cynical. The message to all of them... Life is really screwed up.
None of them were any good, but they made me laugh. As I have mentioned, the point is to entertain oneself. If others enjoyed them, then bonus.
I haven't written much since. I have been dabbling here in cyberspace. Nothing really good mind you. Mainly, I have been expriementing with voice and words. In my private time, I read, watch, and observe. But, I know, in there lies some sort of story. I just haven't been able to get it out. But, one of these days, I will do it. I will write something... something fantastic.
In the mean time, I think I shall just watch. AND, eventually, I will start living my own story. Until then, go out there, and give me something I can use.
All my passions have to deal with story telling. Movies! I love them! I study them. I ingest them! I disect them! The bottom line? They are stories! My recent surge in reading (though I haven't really read much lately) is a result in learning how the author tells the story. My sudden interest in doing these blog things, all preparations to tell some sort of story!
Gosh, I can remember when it all began. It was in college. I was in some strange funk, and thought it best to "see" my thoughts on the printed page just so I could figure out what the hell was happening. I bought a journal and titled it "The Nothing." That's how I felt at the time. That's how I saw myself. That's where I sort of felt I belonged. The Nothing was merely that, too. It was nothing. It was a short collection of bullshit. But, inside was one of my first short stories. It was called, "The Little Engine that Couldn't, because damnit, it just wasn't good enough." Yes, the ending from the title could be easily figured out. The little engine exploded killing everybody. But, that story taught me two things. First, it taught me to never give the ending away in the title. Second, it pointed the way to a bizzare fascination with the obsurd. I love the obsurd. But, after I wrote the story, I spent time just walking around looking at things and asking myself, "what if?" So, for example, I wondered what if somebody poisoned Spam. Why would anybody poison Spam? Spam isn't all that great. BUT, it resulted in short story where somebody did just that.
Here are some examples of my resulting short story "what ifs:"
What if Adsheet Distributors suddenly decided to kill? (College thing). I wrote "Yellow means Evil."
What if a bird asked "what if" questions? I wrote, "Life" and a bird was eaten by a cat.
What if a person just smoked too much, he actually just turned into tar? I wrote "Tar." It was an anti-smoking story I wrote while, well, smoking. How ironic!
What if a bicycle just spontaneously combusts? I wrote "Little Blue Bicycle."
What if a statue comes to life and kills people? I wrote "Alma Mater", which was about that. I made myself the hero in that one.
What if you have a Dark Lord simply named Bob? I am working on a third segment of that story. I just haven't quite hammered out the details. I have the rough, but shelved it for reasons that should be obvious if ever read.
The point being, I think of something simply stupid, and I built stories around them, which were very cynical. The message to all of them... Life is really screwed up.
None of them were any good, but they made me laugh. As I have mentioned, the point is to entertain oneself. If others enjoyed them, then bonus.
I haven't written much since. I have been dabbling here in cyberspace. Nothing really good mind you. Mainly, I have been expriementing with voice and words. In my private time, I read, watch, and observe. But, I know, in there lies some sort of story. I just haven't been able to get it out. But, one of these days, I will do it. I will write something... something fantastic.
In the mean time, I think I shall just watch. AND, eventually, I will start living my own story. Until then, go out there, and give me something I can use.
posted by "Just" Joe at 9:34 PM
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