Shaking Humanity's Sphere

His vision came into focus; Adam was in a St. Francis Hospital room--he could recognize this plain room anywhere. Its walls were layered with thick white paint; the floor a checkered orchestra of tile; there was but a single window for eyes to gaze from; and a single door through which people could enter or escape. That room couldn’t get any more vanilla. A hissing soared in the air as the clicking and clanging of machinery nearby announced itself to his ears, and the air smelled a bit like lotion. Wait, why was he there? “Ah, what happened...?” he heard himself ask the white void engulfing him. He hadn’t expected the humming noise of machines to be usurped so soon. “You were in an accident, you see,”  the words struck. The voice was fairly regular, but sounded young.  Adam impulsively snapped his eyes around the room once more, hoping to see where he hadn’t seen someone. As his eyes trailed toward the left side, he saw a boy, seated in a chair practically adjacent to the bed...

“But no matter what, you are probably going to have to let bad things happen to some of the characters you love or you won’t have much of a story.” (43) Yes, yes, yes! I can't agree more with this. I've been trying to brainstorm some interesting ideas for a drama, and there really isn't a way to do it without  someone  getting the short end of the stick in one way or another.  “Another way to familiarize yourself with your characters is to base them partly on someone you know, a model from real life or a composite—your Uncle Edgar, but with the nervous tics and the odd smell of this guy you observed for ten minutes in line at the post office.” (47) God, there's so much truth to this that it almost hurts. Every single character I've ever conceived has been based on someone I know, or some combination of people I know. In my opinion, a great way to do it is by taking unique elements from people you know and mix them together to form something else entirely. Also, a li...

First, use of the "juggling" effect through what Anders was thinking relative to what was happening; this is something I think Wolff accomplishes quite nicely throughout. Furthermore, dialogue can be very effective at establishing character traits, rather than pure exposition. E.g., Anders' personality shown through dialogue.  --- Feet pound as Ely's legs propel him away from the person behind, whose feet are matching Ely's speed. The air feels like water that he's trying to swim through--clawing for the surface. His lungs burn as he keeps running. Why the hell did I agree to this?!  Ely thinks as he nearly trips over someone on the sidewalk; he can hear his pursuer shove them out of their way seconds later.  He can't stop thinking about it: all he had to do was decline Kris' offer, and he wouldn't be in this mess. He wouldn't be running for his life. Two words, "no thanks", would have been enough. He veers right into an alley, formed...

Part I: There are clues dispersed throughout that make you question the situation, rather than give exposition, which I think is key. The wig, for instance, a hint that maybe despite the age gap, they probably have close to the same amount of time to be together. Furthermore, their genuine affection for each other is shown through the pumpkin carving, and you're really surprised by the reveal of her health. Part II: "You know," Maddi said to Angel, "it's weird to think about, but this is where we were when we met." "Heh, yeah," he replied, stretching his arms. "Just a walk in the park, eh?" "Yep." A silence befell them; the cool night air stings their cheeks a little, but warmth is shared between them. "Oh, I think I can hear it..." Angel said. In the span of thirty seconds, a train passes on the bridge over them; the noise full of chaos, yet endearing. Angel is content. Ah, to think that they met here because they wer...

I'm personally not great at coming up with names, but I think name choices are a great opportunity to instill some indirect characterization or plot detail; great names will often have meanings that resonate with some aspect of the plot. Consider, for instance, the Breaking Bad series finale, titled "Felina". Breaking Bad involves cooking/selling meth and drama; Fe, Li and Na represent Iron, Lithium and Sodium on the periodic table, or "blood, meth and tears" when translated. Brilliant! Undertale, a video game by Toby Fox, makes brilliant use of anagrams in its names. Another game by Toby, called  Deltarune , is an anagram of Undertale, for instance. Another example: a character named "Asriel Dreemurr"; his name is an anagram for "Serial murderer". 

A quote that rings true is, “They kind of want to write, but they really want to get published.” I wholeheartedly agree that people often write with a romanticized vision of being published burned into their minds. Publication is a good goal to have, but it shouldn't be what drives you to put words on paper. You should write for you. This leads me to the next quote, "Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole journey that way." An excellent point that hits home for me. I've been having an issue lately, the need to "plan everything out" and know exactly what's going to happen before I even type the first letter of a story. As alluded to by Lamott, it's okay to not be perfect--most times, your first story won't be your best, which is another reason why people who care more about publication than quality of writing probably have the wrong mindset. Have you ever seen  Breakin...

"Yo." I must've stood there dumbly for about ten seconds before stuttering out a "hey." With life seeming to be a day-to-day crawl, Hannah was certainly the  last  person I expected to spontaneously show up--especially after three years. "Been a while, huh?" she asked casually, as if "a while" wasn't long at all--like a month.  I rubbed the back of my head, words lodging in my throat. "Uh-hm-erm... yeah? It has been. D-do you, uh, want to come in?" She flashed me a bright smile. "Of course!" she said, dancing in without fret.  As my front door clicked shut, a strange feeling rooted within me. "I'll be honest, this just made my day ten times more interesting," I heard myself say. Her blonde hair flows freely as she twirls around in observation of my home. "Nice place ya got here." "Thanks. Can I get you something? I've got some of that peach tea you always liked." "Sure." ...

i. Gene has a pretty big test in a few days  (bear; significant) , which he hasn't prepared for at all  (pressing; forces action) . He's having trouble getting the motivation to try when it might not do him any good  (internal conflict). ii. Michael gets held up in traffic  (bear)  when he's supposed to be at work  (pressing) ; if he's late again, he might get suspended  (significant) . He's unsure which route he should take  (internal conflict) . iii. In a chess tournament, Henry is going to be inevitably paired against his good friend Dylan; Henry doesn't mind friendly games, but he doesn't enjoy playing competitive matches against friends. He's unsure how he should play this match.  Saturday. A day Gene would normally pass by hanging out with friends or playing games, but he has a science test. On Monday. "Ugh," he sighs aloud.  How am I gonna learn everything? Gene is self aware enough to admit that his procrastination  might ...

So--okay. Let me get this straight. For like two years now, you have known all about me and the future. You remember everything that happened--you even use what you know to breeze through school now. But you--ah--you figured I might know too, and still kept it all to yourself? Y-you just... you manipulated things so that we'd be best friends this time 'round, and you act like some sort of guardian to me as if I can't take care of myself? Adam, I don't need your help. You won't even tell me why you care so much! Why don’t you just use your knowledge to better your own life? Why go out of your way to insert yourself in mine? We were friends, yeah, but it wasn’t like we were super close. And friends don’t keep secrets like this--this is too much.

ISAAC'S BEDROOM - NOON Sun shines through the window. It's a beautiful day outside. His mother can be heard washing dishes; his brother can be heard playing with action figures in the adjacent bedroom.  ISAAC is slowly pacing around his room, alone. His room is doused in action figures, a pile of video games, and all the typical things you'd expect for a boy his age. The look on his face shows a current state of indifference towards all of it. Quickly, some of the sunlight is blocked, and there's a knocking on Isaac's window. He visibly snaps out of his trance and notices ADAM has arrived.  Isaac hurries over and opens it, enabling Adam to climb into his room. Adam is wearing a backpack. Isaac eyes it. ISAAC (ushering) Did you bring it? Is that it? ADAM Yeah, I've got it. ISAAC Let me see it. The focus is now on Adam's backpack, which he hesitantly removes before unveiling its contents. There's a clear look of confusion infecting Isaac's gaze.  ISAAC...