Adding art to a flawed piece

Sometimes, slight sense of irony in a sentence can add color to what would be a pedestrian line of writing and irony can brighten an otherwise flawed expression. It’s simply about the “art of writing” when one observes art in a piece that seems flawed.

Art of writing may be fused throughout the whole, ordinary, unexceptional flawed piece, to give it an air of mystery and aloofness. It is flawed prose in one sense, but how the piece is structured or designed gives an illusion of art through each line. How one does this is tweaking; in sum, making it sound interesting.

The maturing of ideas

Ideas are written down, somewhere, somehow. The first idea I wrote down was pretty imaginative and ideasy, but I wouldn’t say the idea was ‘mature’. It had to grow somehow or be used in the appropriate way, be that I could make it in something good with the appropriate traditional publisher or if a script the right producer, or go the self-publishing route and all that entails for the author, or hit the delete button, if all else fails. But sometimes ideas just sit there and flounder and do nothing. This is good because they are left to grow as the writer grows as a writer and an author.

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Putting away a story

It’s with reluctance that I put away some stories. Something about them just won’t go. It’s not the writing quality, but the sense that there was unfinished business. Something was left undone or unhinged. One can’t go back, of course, but the slight pain one feels is regret. It happens once or twice, on the big stories. But this post is saying: I’m putting it to death and down to experience.

Long ago, but still resonates

It’s great to read an old article of mine. What somebody said in it are quite simply words of wisdom and even encourage me today. I think that anyone who enjoys reading, will find that the stories and articles that they look back on, can still resonate, years later. It’s like those pleasant surprises one finds in the attic and the basement; a long lost card or report that surprises one and causes a most pleasant feeling to emerge in you.

Eye opening

Some articles can be eye opening. The insights from people I’ve interviewed can be astoundingly insightful, helpful and eye opening. Like the ones I was looking at today, an article where I interviewed a person who works in materially poorer countries. Little snippets like: ‘The poor find it difficult to accept the gospel when those who share it live affluent lifestyles.’ A challenge. And the list of attributes someone must have to work and live with the poor makes me think I haven’t got it together in my own field of endeavor, although it makes me want to do better, but perhaps perfect to a fault. Articles can stir us up, even the writer of them.

Filmmakers don’t let the facts get in the way of a good story

I was pleasantly surprised to find in the post, one day twenty years ago, a clipping of a published article of mine and a cheque for a certain amount. The following article got published and it’s about film and history. On retrospect, it’s not a thorough article as I could have cited some filmmakers that seem to follow historical fact closely, which would have been the exception, apparently. For my article, it’s about the right to tell a story versus the facts of history. I interviewed three people on the subject and two were producers, one a teacher of history. Here it is as it was published.

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Publishers and creatives may like stories to go on forever, if possible

Creators don’t like people saying that only 1 episode matters in their never-ending chronicles or series. It’s usually the first episode that matters, some people say. The creator says, it all matters (They also tell the picky fans to get a life. But that was about another matter, something more inherent in the series, the details, and not the broad outline.)

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A close shave

If you ever get lost, remember the good voice of the Heavenly Father, and slip into safety.
There was once a train track that went through a tunnel. The tunnel was situated by a summit, surrounded by hills.

When people walked and spoke in the tunnel, it echoed. They were not allowed to walk through it, though. If they walked through it, they were in danger of a fatal collision if they collided with a train.

One morning, some girls got together and climbed the grassy hills around the tunnel, some of them reached for the top, others preferred an easy climb. Some girls stopped, picked daisies, and threw dirt and stones at boys.

Mothers tried to keep an eye on their children, but kids were tempted to go in the tunnel. The mystery was alluring and Sandy rushed into the tunnel. The others were so involved with playing that they did not notice.

As Sandy stood at the tunnel’s entrance, she saw the light at the end. As she ran towards the middle, the tunnel became darker and darker like an eclipse of the moon.

In pitch black, a train was coming. Sandy heard it and shivered. She thought she should have listened to her Mum who told her again and again, “Don’t go into the tunnel!”

Dad had told her about the manholes, like the good voice of the Heavenly Father, guiding to the right course. “Just slip into the manhole if a train comes,” said Dad.

The train closed in as Sandy ran. She saw a cut-out in the tunnel’s wall, which fitted two people. She slipped into it and waited.

The train seemed to take a long time to pass, but it did pass her by like a strong gust of wind.

She took a large breath, relieved she survived a close shave.