When words won't come

Ah yes, we all know it. The infamous "Writer's Block." Where we stare at our paper/screen and frantically try to think of something worth putting down, but nothing comes. What makes it worse is if you know what you want to write, but not how to write it.

That's where I've been with Feather and Fang for a couple of months now. (By the way, if anyone thinks I'm juggling too many projects, yes I am! Three full-length stories, college, and at least three movies in various stages of completion.)

So, this is where I've been stuck:


The wolf-hunter growled in desperation as his boots began to sink into the churning sand. The cavern wall rose away from him as the sand began to sink. Fingers scrabbled at smooth clay, searching for something, anything to grab on to. A stone pillar rose up out of the sand, hitting him in the side as he dropped down.
The pillar rose past him, and Redpaw altered, his claws locking onto the grooved face. He turned to look for Crestlen and caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of his eye, hanging with one hand from another pillar, above and to his right.

I didn't know how to describe what happens next. Point blank. Which is pretty sad, because (as you can probably tell), this is shaping up to be a very dramatic scene, and to not be able to find words to tell it is just... well, sad.

So the other night I switched to a different writing spot (not sure if that did anything), put in headphones with epic music (Two Steps from Hell, anyone? Don't hate the name till you hear the music :P), and just started writing. I almost immediately deleted what I had put down, but that didn't matter. The point was that I had started pushing myself to write, and when that happens, you break the dams on your imagination.

Soon the ideas began to flow again, and I find myself knowing exactly where the scene was going to go, and how I was going to describe it. Mind you, I didn't get very far; (it was late), but I got somewhere. And next time I sit down, it won't take long for me to slip into the channel again and speed on with the river's flow.

The cavern begin to shake violently, chunks of rock falling from the ceiling. The delicate balance that had held the surrounding rock and sand together had been disturbed, and now everything was falling together into the abyss that had so violently opened up below the two hunters.
Redpaw scrambled up to the top of his pillar, gathering himself for a leap. His sharp eyes flitted from point to point, marking out a path among the collapsing pillars. For a brief instant he looked back at Crestlen, and his heart sank as he realized the hawk-assassin hadn’t moved. Below them a red glow had begun to break through the spinning sand. A thousand thoughts spun through Redpaw’s mind in an instant, and he knew exactly what he must do.
With a snarl he spun around on the pillar and launched himself back to the struggling Crestlen.

Full of watery similes,

Farjag

Epic combined means... Total Epic!

Lego + Lord of the Rings... how much better can it get?

Prepare to meet.... The Fellowship of the Ring! In Lego!

* Geek out moment*

This was just too good to pass up posting here!

Photo courtesy From Bricks to Bothans, (check 'em out!), epicosity enhancing by yours truly.

Imagination stimuli

When I'm writing, I get these wonderful pictures in my head of the locations I place my characters. Epic, sweeping, unique places that leave an permanent imprint in my mind. Even if I haven't written that part of a particular story yet, I can remember the location months later as clearly as when I first imagined it. (This is why I tend to over-describe; I want the reader to imagine it exactly like I do). But sometimes, just describing the location in prose isn't enough.

That's when the little gnome artist that lives in my mind pops up his wee little capped head, a impish grin spread across his wrinkled features. And straightaway he's off to find another medium to express the wonderful idea I've had.

Often it's paper and pencil, but it shapes itself into a drawing. Usually merely a hasty sketch or roughed out background around the key centerpiece, these drawings may not be the most wonderful works of art, but they speak volumes more than even words ever could. One morning at work when nothing was going on I grabbed a sheet of parchment paper and a pen and roughed out a cutaway of a Silverwind tent from Silver and Sable. It's nothing fancy, and the lack of any sort of line hierarchy makes it somewhat difficult to read, but it gave me the clearest picture of the Silverwind landscape I've come up with yet.

(It was a bit slow that day :P)

Other times, it's 3D modeling. I've built inns, gates, towers, and started countless other studies in the wonderful world of 3D modeling. My latest creation was a tavern with rooms above for travelers.

(Notice the unfinished back wing... still working on this one)

And one my little gnome's favorites; Legos! Yes, these surprisingly versatile and totally epic plastic blocks  have been fashioned into some of my most epic landscapes and scenes.

(Me and my little sister did this the other day;

I did the rocks and grass, she did the snow and guy)

So, what do you use to help your imagination out?

Quietude

Quietude

Water trickling down
Moss growing dark green
Sun shining down
Snow lies serene

White lies around
Quiet reigns as queen
Pure beauty around
Perfect and pristine

Marveling in silence
Landscape pure and clean
Peace follows silence
Beauty can be seen

Mountains tall and cold
Sunlight bright and pure
Snow lies soft and cold
The silence a wondrous cure

Peace settles softly down
Quieting my anxious heart
God's words come floating down
My worries float apart

In silence, peace
In quiet, calm
In beauty, repose
This is my psalm

To Get an "A"...

I just started Design 2.2, the fourth and final design class before I transfer to a larger college. Basically, we are given projects which include either drawings or models (or both), and are given the task of coming up with a professional, unique, and well thought out design that satisfies the problem. Here's the tricky part though; the grading scale is a great deal different that most other classes. For one thing, the scale is a lot tighter than your average grading scale.

A: 93-100
B: 85-92
C: 75-84
D: 70-74
F: 69 and Below

Not a whole lot of room to make mistakes. Now those 'low 90's' aren't A's anymore, they're B's. Tougher, to say the least. But look at why they're that way:

"In this class, a grade of "A" means that the project is truly exceptional, the design and presentation are professional, and that it is obvious that unusual effort and design attention were invested to produce them. A grade of "B" means that the project is more than professionally competent, that it clearly goes beyond the basic project requirements, and that extra attention was paid to the design and the presentation. A grade of "C" means that the design and presentation essentially satisfy the requirements and intent of the project. A grade of "D" means that there are serious mistakes, omissions, or craftsmanship problems with the project. A grade of "F" means that the project was not turned in or that the project was obviously not taken seriously"

Design 2.2 Syllabus

Basically, you only get an "A" if you go above and beyond. You just want to satisfy the requirements? Here's a nice "C" for you.

But here's the point; you can only achieve greatness in anything by pushing yourself and your work above the standard. 

Let's apply this to our walk with Christ. Our God doesn't ask us to sit in caves in the hills and never talk to anyone so we can live 'holy' lives; He asks us to get out there in the world around us and push the standards of what other people think we can do. We are to "Do Hard Things" for His glory. How can we further His kingdom if all we're trying to do is keep ourselves to just doing the basics? An remember, if all we're shooting for is a "C," it's far too easy to slip into the "D" range.

So, here's the question I've been asking myself: Am I an "A" Christian? Have I been striving to further God's kingdom? Or am I just a little "C" Christian, only worried about keeping to what is easy and comfortable?

I gotta say, I hadn't planned on making the connection from grades to Christ when I started writing this. I take no credit; God tapped on my heart and said, "Hey! This blog is about me, right? Not you. Now write about me."

So thank you, Lord, for Your promptings. May they be as helpful to others as they are to me.

In His Name,

Farjag

And the Answer is...

Unless a drastic and cataclysmic event that is currently totally unforeseen occurs...

I shall edit Freeborn and Freegiven.

It will require a good bit of work, and some deep digging in some places, but I think it is possible. As I've analyzed it over the past couple of days hours, I've realized what it really needs it a good haircut. There is a shaggy layer of unnecessary descriptions and explanations (at least in the beginning) that need to be peeled back. It's basically the traces of me wanting to tell the reader exactly what I see in my imagination. And while that is good, it often becomes overbearing. In Freeborn, it was all too easy to get bogged down in describing every little detail, because it was a fantasy; I was taking the reader somewhere they had never been before, and wanted to make sure they saw it exactly like I did. 

In Trust Hole, I got away from that (I think :P), mostly because describing every little detail didn't fit with the minimalist, dystopian world I had created. I described the key points of each location, and left the reader to fill in the gaps with their imaginations. 

So that's what needs doing on Freeborn. Consider:

Old-

Farjag picked the cooling hilt up with a pair of steel-forged tongs and swiftly placed them back in the glowing coals. The flickering flames lit up his distinctive features: dark brown eyes, short orange-brown hair, a determined look permanently chiseled into his face, and two thick angled black lines like tattoos under his cheekbones. He wore a leather apron over a loose white shirt and a tan muslin tunic, as well as dark brown breeches and knee-high boots. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, leaving his arms bare except for his hands, which were gloved in black leather. He was tall and rather lanky, but his bare arms showed an uncommon strength.

New-

Farjag picked the cooling hilt up with a pair of tongs and swiftly placed them back in the glowing coals. The flickering flames lit up his distinctive features: dark brown eyes, short orange-brown hair, a determined look permanently chiseled into his face, and two thick angled black lines like tattoos under his cheekbones. He wore a leather apron over his loose shirt and tunic, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands were gloved in thick leather to protect them from the hot metal he was working with. As a whole he was short but rather lanky, and his bare arms showed an uncommon strength.

Not much of a difference, but enough to make it count. So that's what I'm going to be spending my late night hours doing for the next couple weeks/months. Wish me luck!

Farjag