So.
Yeah.
Originally Posted by
Dullahan
as much as it's fun to sit around in a thread exchanging suffering and advice, I've been thinking whether there might not be a way for writers on this site to learn from each other in a more practical sense
I was thinking a thread centred on the idea of rewriting - where someone can post a passage or a scene they are working on (to keep things quick and responsive, unlike the Dare thread, perhaps a strict 1000-word limit would be imposed) with a few notes for direction (viz. what it is trying to achieve) and anyone in the thread could rewrite said passage as they see fit. minimalise, maximalise, disorder time, switch perspectives - go nuts.
this wouldn't be a replacement for the kind of critique people want out of beta-readers and fanfic contest judges, but it would operate in parallel. it would, in effect, provide detailed prompts for smaller, more manageable snippets that could appeal to people who are stuck in the 100-word-per-week hell of writer's block (hello) while at the same time getting people to develop the mechanical skills of writing, either by having an alternate, perhaps unexpected approach to their own work presented for consideration (the rewritee) or having to think only about the business of conveying things without the stress of having to think up something to convey (the rewriter)
create thread (y/n)?
Originally Posted by
@Keo
y
What could go wrong, right?
The First Tuesday Rewrite Thread
or,
Hell Is Other Writers: We ARE Struggling Together: Neither RP nor Dare Thread, But Combining The Worst Properties Of Both: Straight Outta Ideas: Never Back Down: The Symposion...On Ice
The mission sounds simple enough. If you're posting in this thread, you're doing one of three things:
One, you can post a short passage that you have written; a particular scene or dialogue or description which can be from something you're working on right now, or something you've already posted on the interwebs. It can be complete - a snippet in itself - or it can not. No limits. Violence? Fine. Pornography? Welcome. Second-person narrators? Yes, even you are tolerated here. Provide your passage, as well as some brief notes concerning what the passage's intended effect was, what it's conveying, et.c. I'll do an example later to show what I mean. Anyway, the only restriction on submissions is in length, and that restriction is strict as fuck. 1000 words or less, according to your word processor's internal word count feature. No more. 2000? No. 1500? No. 1300? No. 1001? Don't be a smartarse. Exactly 1000? Good, but we'll be keeping an eye on you, soldier. On the other hand, it's not like I'm going to be bothered to CtrlC/V and count the words in every submission, so just make sure it's not egregiously more than 1000 words. The reason for this is to keep things fast and simple and sweet. This entire thing is a ruse designed to ruse people out of writer's block, myself included. We do not want people to get bogged down in rewriting. Speaking of that-
Two, you can rewrite a passage that someone else has posted in your own words. That means no copy-pasting from the original, though being imitative of the original is entirely reasonable and to some degree expected. But...perhaps you think it should be in present tense. Perhaps you want it to emphasise sensory description over dialogue. Perhaps you think an action scene needs to be more punchy. Perhaps you think the cadence of the wording should be improved. Perhaps you think the cadence is too good, and needs to be turned into TakaJun Nasuprose. Perhaps you think it'd be interesting to rewrite it in the style of Dumas, or Gibson, or Borges, or [INSERT NAME HERE]. Perhaps you think the narrator gets too sidetracked talking about gazebos. Perhaps you think it's shit in every way and only you possess the righteous cause and noble will to make it holy again. If so, don't bully - rewrite, rewrite better. In any case, the point is to get you - yes, you - thinking about the mechanical processes of writing. To think about putting sentence after sentence and to do so, and in doing so to kick writer's block in the teeth and hurl it back into the stepchild-cupboard where it belongs. The word limit on the rewrite is exactly the same. 1000. The reason? Getting bogged down in this shit is precisely what we want to avoid. Don't.
Three, you can shitpost, inasmuch as that can be distinguished from either of the preceding options.
This isn't like the dare thread - there's no formal reciprocity to rewriting. Anyone can rewrite anyone's passage, any number of times. If you want a specific person to rewrite your passage, consider social interaction. Otherwise, God knows what could happen. You can even rewrite your own, but only if you're legit enough. You can even rewrite someone else's rewrite. Shit's outta control here, I tell you what.
It's true, the mission does sound simple. Now let's start fucking it up.
Example
This is basically how the submitting process works. First, give us your WORDS:
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The final two shots in Yakeda's set came and went, but Naoshige was only half-focused on them. It wasn't that this late entrant shook his confidence; rather, it was simply unusual that he couldn't be found anywhere. As the score was being counted, Naoshige scanned around the pavilion and never spotted anyone who seemed to be the final contestant. Perhaps it was possible that he had simply abandoned the competition without notice. Any self-respecting samurai would baulk at the thought of such a thing, but that didn't make it impossible.
“Rest!”
Soon, the referee shouted once again, and Yakeda Shukugen returned to where he had been standing. Soon, he and his teacher – Master Kakuseki from across the river – were deep in conversation. Neither looked happy. Yakeda's set had been respectable, but it was clear even without the tally that Naoshige's score was in no danger.
“Next!”
For a moment there was no movement. Spectators – both the samurai within the pavilion and the commoners to the sides of the range – looked around expectantly, as if expecting the last shooter to appear suddenly from behind them. Naoshige began to suspect that his earlier theory had been correct – but, the moment he did, something happened. There was a slight shifting beneath the pavilion – a minor vacillation in the crowd – and from within it, as if he had been there all along, the final contestant appeared. Unlike the rest of the archers, it seemed he had been waiting in the shade in the far back corner of the pavilion, accompanied by no-one. Naoshige did not remember seeing him arrive. As he walked, whispers began to run all throughout the crowd under the pavilion. People covered their mouths with their hands and spoke to one another in hushed tones.
“Who is that?”
“Isn't he the son of...you know, that-”
“No, it's someone else.”
“From out in the country, you think?”
“I daresay you're right.”
“My word.”
The final archer cut a slight, unassuming figure as he made his way to the shooting line. He was shorter than the rest had been, and younger too. He couldn't have been more than eighteen. Sixteen, even. His head had not been shaved, and his hair was unstyled and messy. His robes were unfashionably sand-coloured and quite plain, the fabric showing signs of fraying at some edges. In short – to put into words what all who watched him were thinking, but were too tactful to say outright at more than a whisper – he looked laughably uncouth, like some boorish rustic from the lower ranks of the samurai class, with only small holdings way out in the countryside, not even a local magistrate's position, and barely a drop of truly noble blood to be found in him. Indeed, some of the other competitors – those of high rank, whose families were retainers close to the Daimyō – found it in themselves to be faintly affronted that someone like that had shown up at all. It was bad enough, they thought, that commoners – who had not the refinement to truly appreciate the art of archery – were allowed to watch. They were a minority, mind you. Many of the others were simply here to show off – or, more realistically, had been sent by their teachers to show off on behalf of their school – and actually preferred having the spectators, but even among them there was an undercurrent of...disdain, perhaps. Or condescension.
“I doubt we've anything to worry about with this one,” whispered the Master, bluntly putting those feelings into words. “He has the look of someone who's here for losing a bet.”
“Master...”
“As if you weren't thinking something similar, my boy. Honestly – no school given, and none of the local teachers have heard of him. He didn't even bring a bow when he arrived; that's one of mine he's borrowing.”
Naoshige nodded, but didn't reply. In relative silence, they watch the last archer lay out his arrows at the ten required points along the shooting line. The general attitude beneath the pavilion was one of disinterest. Many were quietly talking amongst themselves, discussing what they'd do afterwards. It would be the afternoon soon, and the major festivities in town would just be starting up. Already spectators had started to filter away from the crowd of commoners to the side of the range. Only the referee and scorekeepers – who were being paid to – had their undivided attention on the last archer as he made his way over to the first shooting position, and took up his bow.
“Hmph.” The Master snorted. “Look at that posture. He's rushing his set-up. Doesn't bode at all well. Not at all.” Naoshige looked back to see the old man gave a wry smile. “I don't envy the poor boy, I must say.”
“Who is he?” The Master hadn't mentioned it earlier, but now there seemed something almost perversely interesting about finding out. “What's his name?”
“His name...ah, what was it?” The bald man furrowed his brow. “If I recall, I think it was-”
Then – just then – the Master stopped talking. A cascade of cheers rose from the outside spectators, and it took until Naoshige turned around to look down the range to see that both events had the same cause. Far away, at the end of the range, the first shot of this set had found its mark.
Right on the bullseye.
“...Ryougi.” The Master said, sounding somewhat more uncertain than he had before. “Ryougi Matsu.”
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For exemplars, there we have a passage from a story I'm probably never going to finish. But what you have there are, unmistakeably, words. Now, you can leave your submission at just that. But if you want to, you can also provide a few notes to assist would-be rewriters. These can be setting details or points on stuff extraneous to the text. Like this:
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* Edo-period Japan. The scene is an archery contest held in a provincial capital during a major festival.
* This is a glorified establishing shot for Matsu. near the beginning of the story. Its purpose is to demonstrate his character - aloof, a bit scruffy, overpowered - as well as the perceptions the surrounding society has of him.
* Matsu is somewhat like baseline post-coma Ryougi. Split personality MATSU is kind of a psycho. She enjoys killing stuff and, uh, not much else. Subtly convey that somehow?
* There are samurai and there are samurai. Snotty aristos in every age are demons for drawing fine distinctions between their kin and the varying degrees of pleb.
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Yeah, like that.
Anyway, let's get this ball rolling. Post your own passage, or rewrite one that's already here. In the spirit of getting things started, the first passage anyone else posts here I'll rewrite myself.
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