Olympia: Part 3

The day Valentine Abernathy was to marry Cooper Smith would be one of Olympia’s biggest to-dos in nearly a century, an excuse for everyone in town to celebrate a big occasion if nothing else. Nobody could pretend that Valentine and Cooper were a perfect match, nor were they a well-suited one, nor a completely consensual one. But for today they would dress up in their best suits and brightest smiles and pretend that they were there to share in the happy union of a couple who loved each other.

The ceremony was to take place on the sprawling grounds if Rex and Harriet King’s faux antebellum mansion on a mild and sunny spring afternoon, perfect for the rapidly growing crowd roaming about the lawn in search of the best vantage point. Everyone in Olympia was in attendance, though they were a small number in comparison to the amount of people who had travelled across the state for the occasion. Most of them were Valentine’s admirers, and their presence, along with the vibrant bouquets of white and blue roses, must have sent a clear message to the poor groom that he was quite out of his depth.

The bride and her entourage were tucked away inside the house, using one of the guest bedrooms as a bridal suite. Valentine sat in front of a mirror, eyes closed and lips tight, while her bridesmaids –who were more attendants than anything else– attempted to make an already beautiful woman even more so. They curled her blonde hair, applied her rouge and lipstick, and generally sang her praises in hopes of mollifying her on an already stressful day. Cora, the flower girl for the ceremony, sat on the bed with her legs crossed observing their skittering and half-listening to their talk until she finally spoke up.

Olympia: Part 2

To her mother, she was life. She was springtime. She was something new and unpredictable in an endless cycle of seasons that had started to look much the same year after year. To her father, she was a necessary secret. Naturally. It would hardly be a smart thing for one of the state’s most influential politicians to claim paternity of another illegitimate child and destabilize both a hard-bought political career and an already antagonistic marriage.

Cora Lee’s existence —despite the vague details surrounding her conception— was hardly considered a scandal by the inhabitants of Olympia township, at least not to the standards set by its more colorful inhabitants. At the time of her birth there was a war raging on the European continent, and all attention was intently focused on the not-so-discreet exchange of letters between Marcus King, the mayor’s only son sent overseas, and Valentine Abernathy, the town socialite newly-engaged to another man. The discreet delivery of a quiet girl to a single mother hardly raised eyebrows or caused ripples of gossip in comparison.

Olympia: Part 1

It was the state coroner’s official ruling that Governor Richard King had died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. A colossus of state politics priming for a run at the White House come the end of his term, his suicide naturally came as a shock to the larger state population who had worshiped him as much for his larger-than-life personality as for his over-arching social reform.

Of course, when shocking things happen, rumors always tend to spiral around like vultures to a fresh corpse. There were whispers that Richard King, Sr. was the victim of a finely executed conspiracy chiefly orchestrated by his three sons. The whispers even went so far as to claim that it was Richard King, Jr. who pulled the trigger. Of course, no one would ever be able to prove the speculation even if they dared to. The King family had an untouchable air about them; a fine balance of outward charisma and ambiguity that everyone just knew meant danger beneath the surface.

Genealogies of mythical characters can get complicated.

I finally got around to copying the mess of writing from my dining room mirror into my notebook. It’s probably best to assemble all my scribblings into one place so I stay organized and look less like a crazy person.

Not that it’s at all a bad thing.

The Gods…

They give so much credence to the existence of choice.

Perhaps they know to believe in the unpredictability of events is to be false, but perhaps they find the pretense of ignorance to be far more convenient. It allows them to flaunt their fallibility while still collecting the accolades of their admirers who live a ways down the road. Few of them, however, can hide from the scrutiny of each other. And when the three old sisters from Rowan County invite themselves for the occasional afternoon tea, none of them can deny themselves any longer. When the sober truth of their own natures is woven into a nicely-patterned shawl draped over hunched ancient shoulders, it reminds them how little control they actually wield in the scheme of things.

My Process: Research

So my last post was originally intended as the first incarnation of this one, but I meandered away from the original topic just a bit. This post also a bit out of order, as research and preparation should come before the outlining part of the planning process. However, my research has turned into ongoing study rather than just a starting point, as I feel I can only absorb so much analysis of Greek mythology at a time. Also, I think it’s been helpful to continue sifting through information as I’m preparing the outline, to see if there’s anything about what I’ve planned so far that needs a bit of tweaking and whatnot.

As I’ve hinted at before, I’m doing an adaptation of a few Greek mythological stories, with focus in particular on The Rape of Persephone. All in all, it’s presented as a fairly straightforward story, a kidnapping that results in vengeance and compromise with Hades as the cruel antagonist, Persphone as the innocent victim, Demeter the anguished hero, and Zeus the ambivalent puppet master. However, in it straightforwardness, it ignores both Zeus’ and Hades’ motivations in orchestrating Persephone’s kidnapping. It noticeably omits Persephone’s own feelings toward her mother, her kidnapper, and the ultimate compromise the two come to about her that see her sharing her time between the underworld and the earth. It also paints Demeter as someone who feels nothing for anyone but her own daughter, and even those feelings themselves are incredibly problematic. In this myth alone there are so many possibilities to explore, characters to fill out into multiple dimensions, a different setting to expand into in terms of different cultural complexities. This is where I begin.

And, this is where my thoughts on authenticity in story-writing and my research have intersected. Obviously, the story I’m planning is not an original one; it’s an adaptation of a well known myth. So while I scour JSTOR and other literary criticism to inform the historical context of where this myth comes from (and learn all about pomegranates), I have also been reading a lot of fan fiction. And while this may seem laughable or even strange, it has been very informative as to how I want to shape my Persephone and my Hades, my Zeus and my Demeter (also, let’s be honest with ourselves, a good deal of what’s being written at this point in literary history is fan fiction in some way). It’s been so interesting to see how other writers develop the relationships (or don’t develop them) between the major players from the myth, how these relationship inform how the story ultimately plays out, what they add, what they take away, if they alter the plot at all. What I found most surprising is how very few of theses fan fiction authors don’t choose to change the setting of the story as I’ve planned to, and the ones that do have done so in very different settings than mine. This is where my discussion in the last post has given me comfort – I may not be writing something completely original, but I am writing something different.

And that gives me courage to keep going in the direction I’ve pointed myself in.

Originality Versus Authenticity

“Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent.” – Jim Jarmusch

I don’t often rely on inspirational quotes; more often than not if I’m going to quote something it will be a particular good piece of writing  which showcases what I aspire to equal some day. But this particular quote often gives me comfort when I start second-guessing myself and makes me think about what is really important to me when it comes to my writing. I think it can also apply to discussions about the role of influence and adaptation in creating new work.

It popped into my head last night when my boyfriend shared a potential story idea and asked if I thought it had been overdone. It was a sentence of a premise. Simple. Maybe six words total. So I asked him for more details, which he hadn’t given much thought to. He had just stopped at whether or not the idea had been done by someone else, whether or not his idea was original. But I don’t think the originality of the idea was important – as vague as it was, of course it wasn’t. And that fact alone would have been enough to discourage him from pursuing what could be a very interesting story.

Given the amount of created work that exists today, it’s difficult to free oneself completely from influence. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. As original we might think some of our favorite stories, our favorite tales, our favorite books are, on some level they all resemble each other (here I cite Joseph Campbell). The same with any other art form. There  are basic building blocks which we use to create, whether that be movements, a pen and paper, a keyboard, paint and ink. And while there may be infinite ways to combine one or all of these into a work of art, we see and absorb the art that comes before us and use that as a starting point, whether to spring from or deconstruct or reject completely.

So can we really call something original anymore? Isn’t everything a reaction to something, either positive or negative? Aren’t we all just producing work that is a response, either conscious or unconscious, to that which we have previously absorbed? I mean, all works are original in sense of the source of creation. A story I write is an original from me, but it’s not original in a larger sense; that story contains elements from various other sources that I’ve combined in a new way. It’s kind of like a creative Frankenstein monster, really.

Again, I don’t think this is a bad thing. While originality may not actually exist, what we create can be authentic and true. The role of influence does not mean what we create is not different, is not equally as interesting, is not worthy of praise. In some ways, it can actually add meaning and depth, creating the means to expand on previous work. Is this not what adaptations between different mediums and fan fiction attempt to do? Just because something is not original or is based off another work does not mean it is a copy or theft; it’s an expansion, a tribute. It’s a completely different work.

So I don’t think anyone should get stuck on whether what they’re creating is “original” or not. I say just go with it. Let your creative monsters free.

My Process: The Outline

I’ve been very quiet. Words have been hard to come by for the past week.

That’s not exactly true, though. I’ve been doing quite a bit of writing, but most of it really falls into summary. My outline is coming along, though not having done one before (at least when it comes to story-writing), I’m not sure if I’m doing it right. Is it too detailed? Is it not detailed enough? Given what I think I know of the characters involved, do I think this scene is consistent with how they would act? Is this scene even necessary? Does it move the plot along or reveal anything important?

Quite a lot of questions for a story not even properly begun. I’ve never been an incredibly patient person. I also have a tendency to edit myself as I go through a story and I think these questions in some sense are related to that. However, that’s gotten me stuck before, so maybe I should stop second-guessing myself at every step of the process. Perhaps once I start the real writing those questions will get answered.

I just have to put something down first.

Send my apologies to Miss Austen and my ex-boyfriend.

In case you didn’t notice, two days ago marked the 200th anniversary of the publication of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. For me, it felt like everyone in the world had something to say about it and how much they love Austen and her (arguably) most famous novel. Given that, it only seems appropriate that I should add my voice to the fervor of adoration for a woman whose work I’ve literally grown up with. I don’t really think it adds anything significant to the discussion and praise, but my reflections on how Austen has been weaved so seamlessly into my life encouraged this post.

I hope you’ll forgive me for being two days late.

Starting Something New

I’ve expended a lot of mental energy on the beginnings of the writing process this week, as it seems inspiration has finally struck. I’ve been doing a lot of reading – a lot of research, and my bookmarks tab has been filled with references on Greek mythology, topographical maps of the Southeastern United States, the geneology of common last names for several countries, and population statistics for the counties of Kentucky. Perhaps none of these things really make sense laid out in a list, but they’re all coming together as individual parts into a workable plot that I hope someone will be interested in reading.

It has been a really long time since I’ve started something new. In my writing, I’ve always stuck to short stories and micro fictions that don’t span lot of words. It’s the inherent perfectionism and second-guessing I have as an editor that tends to stunt progress on anything longer than shorts. I will start writing with the entire story arc in my mind, jump back and forth with the scenes that come clearly to mind, and then later have trouble connecting them all together. I start changing things and write myself into a corner I cannot get out of. And then I abandon what I think is actually a good idea for far too long in a notebook or a Word document that I’m too scared to go back to because of my previous failure.

I know this isn’t the best way to write a story, I do. Which is why I’m trying to do it properly this time, plan it out, outline the thing and try to make it work with my habit of sporadic scene-writing. And maybe, since I’m trying to do better at sharing my process with people, it will encourage me to actually produce something they can read.

So, anyone interested?