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Author Topic: Futt the Whuck!?
extrinsic
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So, yeah, responses to fragments and writing workshops and formal and independent writing study has led me to a conclusive appreciation for the universe of prose writing. I can now see all the subtleties and intricacies and substances of narrative I wanted to and now can see; more, most, if not all, that's presently accessible about narrative theory and practice.

Problems and blunders, though, of seeing the strengths and shortfalls of published or otherwise narratives does not constitute writing ability suitable for publication success. My recent deep study focus has given me the answers and directions, the trail, so to speak, I sought since I first practiced to conceive, though unaware of the composition universe's dimensions for a long, heartbreaking time.

What am I missing still? has been a question at the center of my recent study focus and for most of my writing sojourn. The answer has been urgently clamoring for attention for some time; that is, more practice and application of what I learned. Yet I'm stuck, not writer blocked, stuck in a more or less comfortable routine of reading, evaluating, and, as the case may be, reducing my observations to writing, responding to fragments, or meditation of published works that ask for tacitly or explicity no correspondence.

The missing parts before now were manifold and a half-filled glass, what I wanted to achieve writing-wise. The glass is now full, personally satisfied I've reached my composition learning goals. Next, do, not talk, no try: only do. So there it is, in order to continue my Poet's Journey, less response -- less talk; more practice and application -- more action is the answer and direction for publication success I must go.

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History
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You still here?
Go.
Write. [Smile]

Respectfully,
History

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Kent_A_Jones
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Write On!
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TaleSpinner
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"Futt the Whuck" could be a great title for a story, maybe one of those mischievous YAs that ask to be banned from schools?
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extrinsic
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Talespinner,

What do you envision -- imagine -- might be the topic of substance for this mischievous young adult story? Mr. Futt of Whuck Township; that's character and setting. Event? Mr. Futt futts the whuck? What is the moral crisis struggle? One of these vice-virtue clashes: sloth-diligence, greed-charity, gluttony-temperance, lust-chastity, pride-humility, envy-kindness, wrath-patience!?

The upcoming young adult generation has this ironically cool aesthetic -- It's cool to be indifferent toward striving to be cool: popular. Envy and pride are on point, obviously, lust too, maybe greed and gluttony for edginess, perhaps sloth, certainly not wrath. That is uncool.

The same situation all young adults have had and will have since and until time immemorial, though, of "teenage rebellion" as familial detachment ritual is the foreground action. Futt futts the whuck. Sure to be banned and, consequently, popular young adult forbidden fruit. In other words, the first full and independent exercise of free will: the topic of substance.

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TaleSpinner
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sorry extrinsic, I'm not as analytic as yourself, and have no idea what I thought I meant. It seems like one of those absurd titles that becomes meaningful as the story unfolds, and probably involves copious amounts of body fluids, the kind that polite and adult society likes to pretend don't exist.
since you ask and having said it, if I were to use this a a trigger for a story I'd free associate along the lines you mention, probably an absurdist character and setting, 60s psychedelic perhaps, lots of yellow, green and purple and blobby shapes... or maybe mix it with inspiration from China Meiville's "New Weird"...

Pat

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extrinsic
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That analysis is but an eyeblink thought. Longer time, brief, to reduce the thoughts to writing, from which the story's structural essentials opened up for me. Notably that the universal appeal potential is a first, full, independent adult exercise of free will and its inherent maturation tableau.
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Lamberguesa
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extrinisc, you are poised in perfect balance, on the edge of motion.
Your training has led you to this exact moment.
You are Futt and you have mastered the art of Whuck...
now strike, with all your heart!

-A.L.

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extrinsic
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Whuck as a Künstlerroman -- an artist's novel, about an artist's growth to maturity -- tends to depict the complications of a sensitive youth against the entrenched values of a static middle and upper class society of his or her time. Jack London Martin Eden, for example, George Orwell's Keep the Aspidistra Flying too -- an ornamental plant species that tolerates neglect and abuse; also, a British black propoganda broadcast system of WWII.

In this season of gifting, giving, let me share that my artistic growth began with erosion of resistance, refusal, denial of external guidance. I unlearned that first. A few other unlearns came about as well, next. Then a subtle and profound epiphany; that is, many prose composition principles require lengthy development time. Simpler principles may take hours or days; more complex principles may take weeks, months, years. That former reluctance erosion itself spanned years to develop.

The first epiphany was a hard-fought struggle against whuck's long-rumored status quo. Writing is easy, a matter of words strung into a line, somewhat sentence-like. Structure is a cruel and unnecessary tyrant who stifles creativity. Structure is formulaic and unnatural discipline. Nonsense; I learned.

Next, I learned time and effort dissolves whuck's doubt and confusion.

The recent lesson of substance -- knowledge comes after intuition. I started from incidental intuitions that grew into intellectual knowledge ripe for meditation upon their efficacy. False leads go nowhere; substantive leads open onto many trailheads and double back and leap past past journey legs and back and forth and sideways and every which-a-way. Knowledge becomes second nature personally owned and mastered.

Second nature easily is most applicable to external evaulation. A human condition upon which writing workshop effectiveness is based depends upon external evaluation. We more easily find fault in others, less readily in ourselves. We are self-centric biased, naturally. We assign blame externally and claim credit internally. No wonder we resist external guidance.

Evaluation for strengths is most difficult, though most effective for building rapport, building community bonds. Noting strengths makes the bitter pills of shortfalls more palatable. Noting strengths is difficult because we humans are prone to fault finding. Strengths are difficult to locate externally because we compete for supremacy within a highly competitive publishing culture, competitive culture, period. And because strengths are as a best practice subtle. Strengths are strongest when they call no undue attention to their emphasis. Cool to be indifferent to coolness.

Another hard lesson.

Once external evaluation for strengths reaches full realization, the journey is barely begun. Internal evaluation lags cruelly behind, and personal strengths obscure personal shortfalls. I'm okay; you're biased, not me. Time and effort erodes that whucked obstacle too.

Application of learned knowledge and unlearning false knowledge lags behind too. Another hard lesson learned. Nextmost comes the epiphany the journey is no shorter or easier from full knowledge. Along the journey every new epiphany expands horizons. Too many horizons and alternatives slows a pilgrim's progress. Narrowed horizons is nextmost along the journey.

This last epiphany, knowledge application to writing is too a time and effort consumer. The planned journey is no easier or shorter if begun and followed through intuitively or deliberatively. The hard way is the easy way. Both intuitive and planned, the journey is most emotionally satisfying.

Another hard lesson: application is a different monster from evaulation that requires much time and effort to realize.

I take a seasonal break now from composition practice to travel and visit, all the while mental composition practice ongoing. Mr. Futt will whuck the futt: New Year's resolution firmly resolved. Futt's first name is Budraeux and sometimes called Bud the foolish Weisen -- wheat beer: Bud the Weiser Fool.

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Grumpy old guy
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Welcome, extrinsic, to the land less traveled; knowledge of self with all your shortcomings and infinite possibilities for perfection.

The hardest lesson to learn now is patience. To quote one book, "To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:"

Phil.

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Lamberguesa
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Phil- Aye and a good book at that eh? [Wink]
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