What I provided the 14th Wave with:
“There are three kinds of people in the world: those who can't stand Picasso, those who can't stand Raphael, and those who've never heard of either of them.” --John White
"All mankind is divided into three classes: Those that are immovable, those that are movable, and those that move."
-Arabian Proverb
“A writer needs three things, experience, observation, and imagination, any two of which, at times any one of which, can supply the lack of the others.” --William Faulkner
Composition – Creative Writing Assignment: Three Sides to Every Story
Three different people. Three different perspectives. Three different narrative styles. One commonality. Here are some examples:
Three cars at an intersection. Three drivers distracted with their own problems. A fender bender of destiny?
Three people at the zoo. Each with their own thoughts. Are the monkeys happy or sad?
Three people in three countries. Three televisions tuned into the same international news story. Three opinions and three reactions. None the same.
The above are just some examples in a world of endless possibility. Come up with your own scenarios, with three characters to explore three angles.
Requirements:
1. Characters should be uniquely and distinctly different. Test your sea legs and put yourself in someone else’s shoes. Characters of different genders, ages, or even races will make for a more interesting story. Try to allude to individual traits through action instead of description. Show don’t tell.
Ex: Telling - “Jacob is a young boy with terrible table manners.”
Showing - “Dressed in Disney pajamas, Jacob burps as broccoli falls from his fork and onto the floor.”
2. The link or mechanism that “unifies” the three characters should be pronounced and distinct. If it’s an event or incident, such as three people wanting to buy the same item in a store, have them converge together at one certain point in the time-line. Try to weight the writing given to each character equally. This is a systematic writing exercise.
3. Figure out the best way to order your narratives, and which character is best suited for First, Second, or Third. You may want to begin with “You,” move on to “He,” and end in “I” - or any combination therein.
4. Don’t be afraid to “jump in late.” In other words, don’t feel the need to explain everything to your reader. Let them figure details out for themselves through deductive reasoning. That doesn’t mean you should write a riddle, but it does mean you don’t have to supply expansive background information – such as name, age, appearance, gender, or the weather outside. In a short writing piece, these are not needed.
Length: Entirely up to you.
Due Date: Next Wednesday.
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A Sample and What I'd like to add:
I suppose I did complain in the past that by "giving you an example" that the creative process might be hampered. But there are a few things to have present in this writing exercise in order to make it work more effectively. I think mine is a decent sample, but is just one way to do things. I establish the characters and then jump back and forth among them until I draw things to a conclusion. It kind of works. But I encourage you to do things your own way. You can chop it up and mix it up or you can have three characters in three parts occurring only once. It depends on the story you plan to explore. It doesn't have to be a "story" either. This is a bit of a nontraditional writing exercise and could even be considered an essay if you were to write about something serious (Kony, adoption, human rights, education etc.). Some considerations:
- DO make sure there is a format in place that signals to the reader that the narrative has changed. In my case I used * * * as novels tend to do. You can be creative and use headings or even the characters name. It's up to you, as long as it is clear.
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- DO choose first, person, and third person narratives wisely for three distinct characters. The "main character" should probably get the first person, while the character you aren't as fond of can get the third person. It's up to you.
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- DO choose an interesting situation or object to unify the characters. For Wednesday, I want to see a "brainstorm" on your blog. It will factor into grades.
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- DO NOT bite off more than you can chew. But do be ambitious. A satisfying end is a goal, and a plan is necessary to achieve it. Writing at random only works for a small minority of writers.
Three Sides to Every Story:
The Romance of Chicken Day
I watch the digital red numbers of the elevator’s ascent, and wince impatiently as it stops at yet another floor - this time the 9th. Three more guys literally cram themselves in like sardines in a tin can, and I feel sharp words about to explode from my mouth. Take the damn stairs! But I hold them in and try to remain calm. It’s Chicken Day, my favorite day of the month, and I’m unable to control my hunger and fear. A thought worries me deeply. An image of myself at the back of the line. Again. As always. Left with nothing but the oily, bony, meatless bits at the bottom of the tub.
I am determined to avoid this cruel destiny.
I consider the individuals in front of me. Two of them are my roommates, and one is a freshman. Fair game? In one sweeping motion I dig my elbows into a random gut, and fight my way past as the 11th floor illuminates.
“Dude! What the....!”
“Sorry,” I mutter absently. “I have a…. literature essay due next period, and have to see… Mr. Windle. It’s urgent.”
“Whatever. ”
I can feel several sets of eyes burning holes into the back of my skull. But do I care? Not really. I need chicken. I love chicken. And I will do anything to get it. And as the elevator doors finally part like the Red Sea, I can smell it in all its greasy glory… and I’m elated to see an open speed lane towards the front of the line. This is my green light. Victory (and chicken) will be mine. Carpe diem!
* * *
You flip open your Hello Kitty cellphone to search for the dreaded reply. Nothing yet. If only there was an “unsend” button, you think to yourself regretfully. I hope he hasn’t read it. But you know this is a futile thought. He will read it, and when he does, you’ll be the talk of the school. You should have listened to your gal pals: never send a text message to a boy after reading Twilight.
The cafeteria lady plops three chunks of chicken onto your plate, but they are the last thing on your mind as you leave the queue and head towards the tables… scanning them to see if he is already there…. with his friends, showing them what’s on his phone… laughing at your foolish heart. There has to be a way to delete that message from his phone. He’s not worth it. He’s such a meat-head. But is he? It seems you’re the fool for pouring your heart out to a barbarian. Where is he??? Where should you sit? Where are your gal pals when you need them???
Feeling alone and exposed, you take a hesitant step forward, searching for a table somewhere in the corner where you can retreat. But just as you take another slow step, you hear the squeak of basketball shoes on the polished cafeteria floor, and the familiar melee of a male dominant mob stampeding towards you. Like a dear in headlights…. you stand directly in their path.
His path.
* * *
Mr. Windle arranges a neat mound of rice on his plate, and considers what remains on the rest of the buffet line. Kimchee…. squid… and more mysterious vegetables slathered in spicy red sauce. Rather unappetizing compared to the prospect of chicken. Skipping out of this line and into the chicken line seems like a wise decision.
He ruminates carefully, and takes an inventory of the queue. Far too long. Accordingly, he has a class in fifth period, and wishes to prepare questions for a TED video concerning Wikileaks. Surely there must be a way to solve his predicament without blatantly abusing his position as a teacher.
He spies Hyo Ree, a student who happens to owe him an essay rewrite, and who also happens to be near the front of the chicken line. If he asks Hyo Ree where her essay is, he’ll probably be able to slip into the queue, and, as a result - obtain his chicken much faster. No one will take offence, and he’ll get back to his classroom much more quickly. A very efficient plan.
As he takes a step forward, he realizes he forgot his chopsticks. But as he turns back to retrieve them, he realizes fried chicken doesn’t require the use of chopsticks. Finger food? Indeed. But as he turns back to join Hyo Ree in line, he remembers that he does, in fact, have the rice on his plate to deal with. He’ll definitely need chopsticks for those. Or, actually, a spoon. A much more effective utensil for eating rice.
Spoon finally in hand, Mr. Windle ventures back to the chicken queue. Drat! Hyo Ree has already received her chicken, and is lolling about rather aimlessly, apparently undecided where to sit. He decides he might as well catch her and inquire as to when he should expect that essay rewrite. In her first draft, she’d titled it “Tragic Hearts: An Exploration of Love and Destiny in Romeo and Juliet.” Far too maudlin, he’d explained to her. University professors expect papers which are far more sober.
Just as he’s about to tap her on the shoulder…he hears several robust EOP violations echoing from the region outside the elevator. Did he really just hear what he thought he just heard? ěš•? And speak of the devil! Yet another student who needs to give him a late essay!
* * *
The clatter of chaos. A boy stumbles forward, paying the price for a rude elbow, head first into a tray….held by her. Airborne kimchee, individual grains of rice, precious chicken, metal chopsticks….drifting in slow motion towards the floor….along with him, as he realizes there will be no chicken today.
Mr. Windle takes in the sloppy scene, as yet another boy, this time a freshman, slips on said kimchee, joining his friend on the floor….where a mobile phone has fallen free from a hanbok pocket……………………….. Mr. Windle, in an effort to get out of the way…………… his shoe, coming down……… directly…. on top. CRUNCH!
And no…. not the chicken.
Silence embraces the cafeteria. All eyes are focused on the scene, as if they’ve just witnessed a horrible car accident.
“Nicely done, Mr. Lee.”
* * *
Six A.M. Special training. Minus three degrees.
I run barefoot around the soccer field. Mr. Windle’s EOP put me past 20 points, and causing an accident in the cafeteria added another 40. There wasn’t even a need for a court appearance. With 24 months left in this school, I sincerely hope this is most punishment I’ll ever have to receive.
In the future, I’ll be careful not to let my love of chicken blind me. Obsessed with sports, and thus burning so many calories, I often let my appetite turn me into a beast. And although I consider myself a science student, perhaps I should read my Shakespeare more closely, and finish my essays on time. And then, there’s her.
I admire how she didn’t even get angry at me. Not only did I ruin her lunch, and waste her precious chicken, I even stained her hanbok with kimchee. But who is the real victim in this mess? I guess considering that Mr. Windle crushed my phone, and I’m the one running outside without shoes on…. I am. For some reason, she seemed happy my phone got destroyed. And she even offered to help me out with my essay. Strange? Very strange indeed.
* * *
You now firmly, truly, and certainly believe that indeed – there is a God. He caused Mr. Windle to crush his cellphone. God erased those ill conceived words, and provided a means of expressing them gradually. He has no idea how to interpret Shakespeare. He’s like the Korean version of Edward, without the vampire teeth. You’re more than happy to explain the meaning of destiny and love to him.
* * *
Mr. Windle, with red pen in hand, writes an A+ on Hyo Ree’s paper, and a C+ on Mr. Lee’s. It’s a week late, but shows signs of wisdom and empathy. Odd? Very odd indeed.
Kids these days.
