Metacognition: Short Story

If I had to sum up the process I went through in writing my short story in one word, it'd probably have to be "unique." While there were many unorthodox or "unique" methods I tried in writing this story, I think the most drastic change I made to my normal writing process were how I attempted to force myself into writing; to "just write" and worry about editing and making sense out of it later, instead of having it thought out ahead of time. For pretty much all of high school I've been following a process where I sort of let brilliance come to me (not to sound too arrogant) and then rolling with an idea from therer. In other, less lofty, words I guess you could say I wait for an idea I truly like to come along before I really delve into writing, but I tried something new this time around, and it made for quite a different experience.

I knew a few things I liked about my story before writing it, not too much, but I knew enough of what I wanted it to look like to get the ball rolling. Or so I thought. First of all, one of the biggest setbacks for this whole writing process was how slowly I came to an idea for a story, completely scrapping an idea for the fragment (stage 1), then scrapping another fragment (still stage 1), then finally setting on a rough idea that would evolve into my latest work, "Ante Up." Beginning my first draft though, I knew I wanted it to be about something BIG. I wanted it to have meaning, but I also wanted to inspire and shock readers, an idea that I would later realize is the "basis for virtually every independent film ever made." (Google 'Thinkfilms' if you want to see what I mean) I looked at some of my favorite movies and stories to inspire my own creativity and get the writing juices flowing, only to realize a little too far down the road how terrible of an idea that was. Writing (or at least my writing) needs to be organic; I need to be able to formulate my own original idea, no matter how long it takes me, and run with it from there. Probably the biggest disturbance in my writing process was how forced it became at times. Whether it was to meet a deadline or to move the story through a rut, I found myself trying to push it along without thinking about the final product simply due to the pressure I felt to finish (although surprisingly some of my best writing comes from pressure laden 2:30 writing sessions) (that's 2:30am). Being someone who usually has a lot of integrity for their work, perhaps even too much sometimes considering how offended I see myself get at criticism, it's sort of appalling to look back and see how I tried desperately to move what seemed to be a nowhere bound story by forcing it down a shallow, at times even random, path so I could move on to the next part.

The way I like to write (whether it be a short story, poem, essay, etc.) is a process that probably makes most English teachers and writers squirm; I think through the whole story in my head first making sure I know what I want it to eventually look like, before putting pen to paper so that all I have to do is write down what plays out in my head. This time around however, partially due to suggestions to "deepen the story's narrative" and partially due to my own inability to see value in my initial idea, I decided just to write. To let thoughts flow and write them down as they come, creating a sort of stream of conscious story with a very unique plot and complex characters. That's the hope anyways, but because I wasn't able to sort through my thoughts and take inventory of how I actually wanted the story to play out, my story constantly felt lost and inadequate throughout most of the writing process. It wasn't until I was able to sift through what I'd written already and take a new approach, figuring out my plot before setting out to tell it, did I achieve any sort of success with developing a story that makes somewhat sense and, more importantly, has a level of closure in it, telling both me (the writer) and the reader that there is a well thought-out, meaningful plot within the story.  

In retrospect, I have to pat myself on the back a little bit for salvaging what at times seemed like a hopeless story, and turning into something that I'm actually okay with putting my name on. I was only able to write comfortably after returning to my normal process of figuring out what it is that I want to say, and then articulating the story on paper. When I have the plot moderately planned out already, it's hard to chunk the writing into definite steps and fit it into a gradable "story writing process." This is part of the reason steps one and two seemed like introductions to a greater story to come, when in fact it was actually part of the narrative, I just needed to let the story develop, which pretty much happened in my final draft before turning the story in; in "one fell swoop" where I synthesized the middle and ending with the inaugural first two drafts. While I would like to keep my writing process basically the same, I do feel I need to learn how to fit it into a more logical set of steps so that I could get feedback on my ideas without having to actually write them down in a place where they won't make sense or won't stay in for later drafts. I am glad that I was able to churn out another piece of writing that I can turn in knowing it's moderately entertaining, well developed, and contains some emotional closure, especially considering the first two drafts were regarded predominately as "incipient" (which, to some extent, I don't necessarily disagree with). I wish I could've found a more direct and rational approach to the writing and maturing of my story, possibly avoiding some of the anxiety and sleep deprivation I suffered along the way, but I suppose that's secondary to being able to produce comfortably a sophisticated and developed story. And, considering the fact that whatever grade I get on this story doesn't really mean much to me because I achieved some "emotional closure," I guess I can say All's Well That Ends Well
(I do plan on continuing to revise it though so that I can say I actually like the story after all the effort I've put into it, but for now I'll say it "ends well")
March 22, 2012

An Inconvenient Truth: The Dao of People

Among the truths about human nature we learned in Heart of Darkness, the most impactful and probably most obvious takeaway is that evil exists inside everyone. This is definitely the first thing that comes to mind when thinking about Heart of Darkness, and probably one of (if not the) most important realization made in English this quarter. Everyone in the novel, and upon reflection virtually everyone in the real world, has some malicious side to them, and even though there can be great variance from one person to the next, it's a common thread that runs through all people in some way or another.

In Heart of Darkness, it seemed that everyone Marlow encountered in the Congo had wicked intentions or were willing to be evil for personal gains, with Kurtz being the ultimate embodiment of this attribute. Even Marlow found himself slipping into aggressive or uncharacteristically malicious thoughts while in the Congo looking for Kurtz. When we discussed this idea in class we came up with many other examples of how people, under certain circumstances can lose touch with reality and succumb to the evil inside them. Maybe that's my own interpretation of the discussion, but nonetheless my point can be make by looking at the characters of Heart of Darkness as well as some real life instances, like the Stanford prison experiment for example. An interesting idea is the notion that a basic characteristic of people includes the existence of evil; to steal some lyrics from Metallica's song Am I Evil, "Am I evil? Yes I am. Am I evil? I am man." Meaning that there is no way to hide or mask the reality of evilness, people just need to know how to control and manage it. A major theme I saw in Heart of Darkness was the struggle between good and evil, which could be parallel with the internal struggle within every person; the existence of evil is present in everyone, coinciding with the existence of good and occasionally struggling for dominance with it. Perhaps this isn't such a bad thing though.

It's an inconvenient truth because it's just another thing people need to be aware of so that they can deal with and manage their internal evil when it does surface, avoiding potentially harmful effects on their character, but this does not necessarily make it a "bad truth" or a "demoralizing truth." Sure, it'd be nice if we could rest easy knowing only certain people carried the evil gene, but that is clearly not the case, making it imperative for people to be in touch with their evil side, so that they're familiar wit its capabilities and so they can stave off its attempts to overcome their lives (avoiding a Kurtz-like scenario). There may in fact be benefits though to having an evil side, or at least knowing can have one.

There is something to be said for people's need for balance, and the idea that all good has an equal amount of evil existing somewhere in the universe. Perhaps people need to be in touch with both their altruistic and malicious sides to fully appreciate life and the different lenses used to look at it with. I'm beginning to think people need both yin and yang to live to their fullest potential, neither one can succeed without the other. I'd like to think that there is reason behind my more devilish side, method to madness if you will. At the same time though, everything is about perspective, and  while good keeps evil in perspective (and vice versa) I probably need to keep both in perspective and be aware of my self really have the opposites complement each other and strike a balance. I guess that's the lesson underneath all of this: it's all about balance                                  
March 12, 2012