A story is a combination of words that tries to impart a lesson or teaching to the readers, or even to just entertain the audience. A story can be about real life or pure fantasy. A story is a way to translate feelings or to create fantasies.
But what makes a good story is harder to determine. The basics of a good story is a protagonist the reader can identify with, a stable plot, and a force that works against the protagonist. These are just the very bare basics of a story, but that doesn't make it good.
What makes it good is the world around the protagonist and the opposing force. How immersive is it, how realistic is it, and can the reader see it clearly in their mind? Can the reader easily see the events unfold before them in, can they see the society in which the protagonist works, and do they understand certain limitations upon the character?
World building works as a way to give life and detail to the story at hand, from describing the protagonist's immediate surroundings to the vast world around them. By understanding the world and the society our protagonist lives in, we can better empathize with them and their path against the opposing force. And by illuminating their surroundings, we can better visualize the events as they are played out.
World building also pertains to how a character acts and how to communicate with supporting characters. By further understanding the subconscious and conscious decisions of our protagonist, we can better relate to them. And only by being able to understand the character and world are we able to judge if it is relatively 'good' to us.
Thursday, January 29, 2015
Friday, January 23, 2015
Grif the Cat
About a year and one month ago, I lost my calico kitten Aya to feline leukemia. I still remember her very fondly to this day, but there's another reason to celebrate this time.
A week after her passing, my Dad came home and asked me to come with him to Battle Creek. I had stayed home from school one extra day, as Aya had passed during the Christmas break.
I went with him, unable to stand being in the house much longer. I had already cleaned and disinfected my entire room along with throwing out all things she had used or played with.
At first I thought we were just going grocery shopping. It was about that time of the month and I figured walking around would help.
But instead of taking the road to Meijer's, he turned the vehicle onto a road I had never seen.
With interest peaked, I sat up in my seat. I kept looking down the road and at the sides, wondering where we were going.
And finally we pulled into the driveway of the local animal shelter.
At first I thought it was some sort of sick joke, but that worry was washed away when we walked in.
I immediately went to the designated cat room, unable to contain my excitement. I love dogs, but I have always felt more at ease with cats.
I had never seen so many cats before in one room. They covered the floor and countless baskets, while others clung to various cat towers and scratching posts.
But I was more interested in the kittens. Perhaps I would have be just as happy with an adult cat as I was with a kitten, but I wanted to interact with the kittens before I touched the older cats.
The kittens had their own area, secluded from the adults. The volunteer had said it was to keep the kittens from contracting adult diseases.
Luckily there was only four in there. So I entered the small pen and crouched down, letting the, come to me.
The first kitten to greet me was an enthusiastic pale calico. She immediately crawled up my coat to my shoulder and proceded to rub against my cheek.
There was a small white one who would shy away whenever I moved. And a brindle colored kitten who was content to keep sitting in a small box.
But then there was a small orange tiger, cautiously sniffing at my shoe and batting at the rubber sides.
I'm not sure why, but I found him the most interesting. So I picked him up and looked at him. He only blinked at me and licked his nose.
Maybe the fact that I had never owned a male or orange colored cat was what drew me. Or maybe I was tired of my calico cats getting sick and dying.
Whatever the case, I looked up at my dad and said I wanted the little orange furball.
So we went to the volunteer, who drew up the necessary paperwork and registration. He'd already had his shots and was fixed, and the adoption fee was only $100. I was more than eager to take him home right away, but the volunteer said we had to wait for a reason I can't remember.
So it was planned that my mom would come home and pick me up to go and pick up 'Nemo' as he was dubbed at the time.
When asked if I wanted to change his name, I decided to name him 'Grif'. It might have been silly to name him after one of my favorite Red vs Blue characters, but it was too perfect. They were both orange and quite lazy.
So that night I came home with him, a tiny three month old kitten who would become my animal best friend. He cuddles with me at any available moment, hogs the middle of the bed, and always demands attention. He's such an affectionate cat, and it makes me glad that I picked him.
A week after her passing, my Dad came home and asked me to come with him to Battle Creek. I had stayed home from school one extra day, as Aya had passed during the Christmas break.
I went with him, unable to stand being in the house much longer. I had already cleaned and disinfected my entire room along with throwing out all things she had used or played with.
At first I thought we were just going grocery shopping. It was about that time of the month and I figured walking around would help.
But instead of taking the road to Meijer's, he turned the vehicle onto a road I had never seen.
With interest peaked, I sat up in my seat. I kept looking down the road and at the sides, wondering where we were going.
And finally we pulled into the driveway of the local animal shelter.
At first I thought it was some sort of sick joke, but that worry was washed away when we walked in.
I immediately went to the designated cat room, unable to contain my excitement. I love dogs, but I have always felt more at ease with cats.
I had never seen so many cats before in one room. They covered the floor and countless baskets, while others clung to various cat towers and scratching posts.
But I was more interested in the kittens. Perhaps I would have be just as happy with an adult cat as I was with a kitten, but I wanted to interact with the kittens before I touched the older cats.
The kittens had their own area, secluded from the adults. The volunteer had said it was to keep the kittens from contracting adult diseases.
Luckily there was only four in there. So I entered the small pen and crouched down, letting the, come to me.
The first kitten to greet me was an enthusiastic pale calico. She immediately crawled up my coat to my shoulder and proceded to rub against my cheek.
There was a small white one who would shy away whenever I moved. And a brindle colored kitten who was content to keep sitting in a small box.
But then there was a small orange tiger, cautiously sniffing at my shoe and batting at the rubber sides.
I'm not sure why, but I found him the most interesting. So I picked him up and looked at him. He only blinked at me and licked his nose.
Maybe the fact that I had never owned a male or orange colored cat was what drew me. Or maybe I was tired of my calico cats getting sick and dying.
Whatever the case, I looked up at my dad and said I wanted the little orange furball.
So we went to the volunteer, who drew up the necessary paperwork and registration. He'd already had his shots and was fixed, and the adoption fee was only $100. I was more than eager to take him home right away, but the volunteer said we had to wait for a reason I can't remember.
So it was planned that my mom would come home and pick me up to go and pick up 'Nemo' as he was dubbed at the time.
When asked if I wanted to change his name, I decided to name him 'Grif'. It might have been silly to name him after one of my favorite Red vs Blue characters, but it was too perfect. They were both orange and quite lazy.
So that night I came home with him, a tiny three month old kitten who would become my animal best friend. He cuddles with me at any available moment, hogs the middle of the bed, and always demands attention. He's such an affectionate cat, and it makes me glad that I picked him.
Thursday, January 22, 2015
Prompt 1 - Audience
Writing without an audience is a wasted endeavor. Without someone to read the words which a writer has woven together, the point or lesson of the word is lost. An audience is what keeps the writer writing. An audience determines what is important or enjoyable, and what is not worth their time. As such, audiences can vary. The audience who relishes sci-fi is not the same audience who loves steampunk. And because there are so many different audiences to appeal to, many genres and types of writing surfaces.
A recent form of writing, called 'roleplay', has surfaced and begun to make roots in social media sites. The basis of roleplaying is the interaction between two or more people writing about fictional characters, and dictating the plot of such interactions. This is commonly found in fandoms and such sites like Tumblr or Facebook.
While the function of roleplay is easy to understand, the purpose is a harder question to answer. Within fandoms, roleplay is used to play out certain situations between characters and gain an understanding of their characters. Through this, the audience is also privy to such interactions and can understand the character better themselves.
Another common theme of roleplay is 'fan service' or 'fan fulfillment'. By taking these same characters, the roleplayers are able to act certain relationships or scenarios that are not explicitly stated in canon. By fulfilling the need to see certain characters in these situations, the audience also gains satisfaction that cannot be given from the rest of the fandom. This is the most popular purpose for roleplay and why many people in the fandom support it.
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