Fleshing Out The Fleshy Bits

2 02 2013

I write. A lot. I write long things. I write short things. I write complicated things, simple things, and things that occasionally make me go ‘hmm.’

I write things that I want desperately to share and quite frankly am terrified to. I write things that I’m proud of. I write things that I’m ashamed of. I write in a million different colors of hate, adoration, sickness, and depravity.

I write things that make no sense.

I write things that make perfect sense.

I write because I am compelled. Because I want to. Because I damn well should.

Part of what I write is a blog. Nothing  complex I think but I could be wrong. I’ve run into people who I know who mention the blog and have positive things to say about it. They have reading it. Gets a laugh.

That’s a good feeling.

I was thinking about it the other day. I like the blog. The term is kind of goofy.

Blog. Blog? Blog! It doesn’t roll off the tongue particularly well. It wouldn’t surprise me if this is one of the last noises I make on my death-bed. I won’t be telling anyone that they should be blogging or that they need to check for unpublished posts here. It’ll be a death knell, a final parting releasing of air and vibration that ushers in my demise.

But maybe I’ll have a grandchild that decides to start blogging as a result, one day citing me urging them on from death’s doorway. I’ll be kind of famous. Kind of.

Anyways, in a really round about way, I’m trying to say a little something about characters. Strange road to take, I know but I’ve been reading a lot about them. Part of writing and doing it successfully depends on skill. It is an art form but one that demands development of certain skills as with anything else.

Sculpture is an art form. Take an artist that primarily carves works from stone. Let’s say marble. This fictitious individual had better learn how to use a chisel for instance. Basics.

Writing is an art form but you should probably know how to write a sentence before you start laying something of great magnitude out onto empty pages. That sort of thing.

So I’ve been reading a lot about characters. Making them believable. Likeable. Hateable? Other sorts of things that end in -able.

I can tell you what I’m taking away from it for sure. Seems to me that characters are actually rather easy to build. A lot of what we see in our imaginary people are things we see in the real sorts around us. The easiest place to run across some inspiration? Friends, family and self. And also an occasional rambling lunatic on the internet.

But why does it matter to you all? To the ones who don’t care about writing anything. The answer of course is that I don’t know. And that’s okay.

I said it before. I like the blog. Part of the writing I do here strengthens me in my craft. Practice makes perfect and all that crap. I’m here vomiting words out into the internet partly to get better at vomiting words out into the internet. And onto paper.

What about the rest of you? Isn’t this something sort of universal? Isn’t there something you do professionally that helps you grow? The quality of your work prosper?

Me harassing you, helps me harass you better, which in turns helps me harass you even better. So Mmmmmmmrrrrallllllllllguuuuuuuu, ptttthhh.

Vomiting my way to greatness. Or at least to somewhere beyond mediocracy!!




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