My mind is a sketchpad
Feb. 28th, 2007 08:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nnyOf course the odd thing about rambling on, in person or in letters, is that it tends to be the only time I consciously think about things. I know what I think or feel but the concepts aren't always fully illustrated in my mind; sketches only. Writing or discussing things is a voyage of discovery; this makes discussion fascinating from two directions, means that I am generally pretty open minded about things, and results in my never winning an argument. I should wander about topics on my journal more, I think.
What I have just discovered:
I like fiction to have hope. I don't particularly mind if the situation is dark or bright, provided there is some measure of hope - sad endings are fine with me if there is the suggestion that things will get better. Desolation is what upsets me. When a story is brighter in nature, I dislike complete resolution. I don't want everything to end perfectly, because the characters become less real - they must have somewhere to go when the story is done, or they are created specifically for the story and no other, and that leaves them static and stranded and suddenly two-dimensional when you run out of words. They should have a hand of Franklin to pursue.
What I have also discovered:
My extrapolations from art are very personal, frequently ridiculous, and far more developed than I ever would have imagined before I started talking. It's actually pretty pleasing.
Oh, and? I can see Callum Rennie very easily as an angel, sick and tired of humanity but helpless against loving them, cigarette dangling from his fingers as he watches the sun rise from the top of a church tower.
I get these mental images, sometimes, from nowhere. Along with them comes the desperate urge to write around them; this is why my stories so frequently lack entirely in plot.
What I have just discovered:
I like fiction to have hope. I don't particularly mind if the situation is dark or bright, provided there is some measure of hope - sad endings are fine with me if there is the suggestion that things will get better. Desolation is what upsets me. When a story is brighter in nature, I dislike complete resolution. I don't want everything to end perfectly, because the characters become less real - they must have somewhere to go when the story is done, or they are created specifically for the story and no other, and that leaves them static and stranded and suddenly two-dimensional when you run out of words. They should have a hand of Franklin to pursue.
What I have also discovered:
My extrapolations from art are very personal, frequently ridiculous, and far more developed than I ever would have imagined before I started talking. It's actually pretty pleasing.
Oh, and? I can see Callum Rennie very easily as an angel, sick and tired of humanity but helpless against loving them, cigarette dangling from his fingers as he watches the sun rise from the top of a church tower.
I get these mental images, sometimes, from nowhere. Along with them comes the desperate urge to write around them; this is why my stories so frequently lack entirely in plot.
