I thought I would share some tips on writing that I have come across. The first problem is exposition, and how to deliver it. Exposition is essentially backstory, information about a person, place, thing, relationship, etc. It can also be grueling to read if not done right. Exposition can come out in two ways, narrative or dialogue. Depending on what your strong point is will decide where you think it should go.
Blog with opinions on political, economic, and social issues, with movie reviews, sports, and tips and musings on the process of writing.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
History (or Scripts) Repeats Itself
When a show runs for so long, it tends to run into a rut within its scripts. For some shows like Smallville, most of the episodes are filler episodes while there are only a couple that push along a main-arc plot. This season, it is difficult to know what that plot is. However Smallville is ending this season, but Chuck is still supposedly going strong.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Writing is an Art II: Poems
It may be ironic that I do not like to read poems. To a certain extent, I do not even like to read my own poems, but for different reasons. Poems, like any form of literature, has a wide variety of styles. Because I do not like to read poems, it is almost like saying I do not like sculpture, a major category of art.
Friday, January 7, 2011
A Few Poems
I wrote some poems recently inspired/about someone special to me.
Disclaimer: Names were withheld to protect the innocent ;)
Disclaimer: Names were withheld to protect the innocent ;)
Perfect Imperfection
Veiled by an opaque mist,
Hidden from mortal sight.
Does a perfect woman exist,
With conviction and forthright.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Old Poem Revised
I recently found a document in my computer lost since 2000 (makes me wonder what my oldest file is). It was a poem I wrote (yet another sign that I was a writer first, and a programmer second). I have since edited it and present it to you for your reading pleasure.
Home
I hear the voices creep into the back of my mind
The voices like your conscience telling you right from wrong.
I feel the room darken and tell you to turn the lights back on
But I know it is not the lights, so I wait
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