Pruitt Day 8
This post would likely make me look really out of my mind, if it weren't for this caveat at the top.
Most of the writing battle lies in just getting started. Sometimes I sit down at the computer without a clue as to what I'm about to write, but I always come up with something. My emails to friends are legendary and often uninentionally lengthy. What I See is the answer to this problem. It spares your guys' email inboxes, and presents my typically drawn-out thoughts in a somewhat organized fashion, so that you can come by and enjoy it at your leisure. I wish I had saved some of my more infamous email messages, because I'd love to do a regular "What I See Classics" series. If anybody has some of these in your inbox or elsewhere, please forward them to me so I can post them. In particular, I really wish I had "Dear Paul Bako."
One of the most valuable lessons I learned at Villanova is: If it doesn't sound right when you read it out loud, then you didn't write it correctly. So I just type away furiously, about whatever is on my mind, and most of the time I talk to myself as I write. Even if it turns out to be unusable garbage, it gets the juices flowing and overcomes mental barriers that are in place for no good reason. This part of the process is like untying knots, and since untying knots can be a haphazard, trial-by-error process, I usually wind up deleting most of these pieces.
Since I set up What I See as a kind of clearinghouse for compositions of all sorts, I've decided to post a snippet of one of these knot untying sessions from yesterday. This is, after all, What I See, and this part of the story is what I've been focused on in my spare time--which is admittedly quite immense--for the last several days.
By the way, Sheehan came up with a great new name for the main character. In a signature Sheehan moment--that being, his ability to make you think to yourself, "Why the hell didn't I think of that?"--he blurted out, "Don't start over; just change his name to Pruitt." It works better--it flows off the tongue a little easier, and it has more prospects as far as creating nicknames goes. So be it: The Death of Richard Pruitt.
Now, on to untying knots....
The fulcrum of this story is that Rich decides to quit pleasing everybody else all of the time. Maybe it's a shedding of naiveté or immaturity or who knows what. Bad guys never consider themselves to be pieces of crap. I don't think bad people go around with the thought in their minds, "Man, I can't wait to be a cancer and cause bad things to happen." Evil often ensues when selfishness effects of all decisions, and outcomes for other people get ignored. Also, it's easier to screw people over when you appear to have the right to do so, or when you can put the chaos you've wroght on others out of your mind.
This bad person's motives might be deeper than even they are aware. Is it ridiculous to assume that, after a while, bad people start to get off on being bad? I think they begin to reconcile the rightness of any superficial benefit to himself. He begins to judge things based soley on whatever positive outcome he gained, even after he becomes aware of the overall negative effects of his actions. For dumb people cannot be considered bad; they might be myopic, maybe, but not bad. Real bad guys are usually intelligent in the most extreme sense imaginable; he knows of the evil which he might cause, but he’s beyond moralistic examinations. Bad Guy learned how to ignore the negative results of his actions, because the direct positive benefits he gained have clouded his perspective; selfishness became a virtue. At that point, Bad Guy embodies terribly bad qualities, especially as perceived by others—i.e. the accumulated marginal negativity of his actions, ignorance of the reactions by those around him. Bad Guy doesn’t take satisfaction in overcoming; a desire to annihilate excites him; he reasons that competition will always yield to sinister. The bad streak will be like caramel ice cream: fundamentally boring vanilla ice cream, but with a strain of caramel running through; after eating it for a while, the caramel overwhelms the vanilla. His badness will not evolve from a principal level, but in a way that will show marginal overshadowing the bulk of good. He will not ultimately be liked, but the all the different sides of him will be understood.
Good and evil manifest themselves in subtle ways, and often masquerade as one another. Pruitt will make decisions in a gradual way, reacting while contributing. The final round will be the brief culmination of small activities. Think cooking ingredients--a little of this, a little of that. Pruitt is looking back onto the events of the last day of his life, so he has the benefit of objectivity. He sees how Bad Guy was intending, and he sees the outcomes of his actions. You can't make the Bad Guy too good, because after all Richard does screw him in the end. Likewise, Rich can't bee too good, because the audience needs to feel like they can relate to this guy, so it would be unwise to create a character who's some sort of ideal.
To add to the human experience element of the story, find ways to touch upon language and reactions as clumsy communicators. The focus should largely be on the last day of this guy's life. How to condense yet maintain the depth of the story? Avoid flashbacks and back-story narratives if possible.
Most of the writing battle lies in just getting started. Sometimes I sit down at the computer without a clue as to what I'm about to write, but I always come up with something. My emails to friends are legendary and often uninentionally lengthy. What I See is the answer to this problem. It spares your guys' email inboxes, and presents my typically drawn-out thoughts in a somewhat organized fashion, so that you can come by and enjoy it at your leisure. I wish I had saved some of my more infamous email messages, because I'd love to do a regular "What I See Classics" series. If anybody has some of these in your inbox or elsewhere, please forward them to me so I can post them. In particular, I really wish I had "Dear Paul Bako."
One of the most valuable lessons I learned at Villanova is: If it doesn't sound right when you read it out loud, then you didn't write it correctly. So I just type away furiously, about whatever is on my mind, and most of the time I talk to myself as I write. Even if it turns out to be unusable garbage, it gets the juices flowing and overcomes mental barriers that are in place for no good reason. This part of the process is like untying knots, and since untying knots can be a haphazard, trial-by-error process, I usually wind up deleting most of these pieces.
Since I set up What I See as a kind of clearinghouse for compositions of all sorts, I've decided to post a snippet of one of these knot untying sessions from yesterday. This is, after all, What I See, and this part of the story is what I've been focused on in my spare time--which is admittedly quite immense--for the last several days.
By the way, Sheehan came up with a great new name for the main character. In a signature Sheehan moment--that being, his ability to make you think to yourself, "Why the hell didn't I think of that?"--he blurted out, "Don't start over; just change his name to Pruitt." It works better--it flows off the tongue a little easier, and it has more prospects as far as creating nicknames goes. So be it: The Death of Richard Pruitt.
Now, on to untying knots....
The fulcrum of this story is that Rich decides to quit pleasing everybody else all of the time. Maybe it's a shedding of naiveté or immaturity or who knows what. Bad guys never consider themselves to be pieces of crap. I don't think bad people go around with the thought in their minds, "Man, I can't wait to be a cancer and cause bad things to happen." Evil often ensues when selfishness effects of all decisions, and outcomes for other people get ignored. Also, it's easier to screw people over when you appear to have the right to do so, or when you can put the chaos you've wroght on others out of your mind.
This bad person's motives might be deeper than even they are aware. Is it ridiculous to assume that, after a while, bad people start to get off on being bad? I think they begin to reconcile the rightness of any superficial benefit to himself. He begins to judge things based soley on whatever positive outcome he gained, even after he becomes aware of the overall negative effects of his actions. For dumb people cannot be considered bad; they might be myopic, maybe, but not bad. Real bad guys are usually intelligent in the most extreme sense imaginable; he knows of the evil which he might cause, but he’s beyond moralistic examinations. Bad Guy learned how to ignore the negative results of his actions, because the direct positive benefits he gained have clouded his perspective; selfishness became a virtue. At that point, Bad Guy embodies terribly bad qualities, especially as perceived by others—i.e. the accumulated marginal negativity of his actions, ignorance of the reactions by those around him. Bad Guy doesn’t take satisfaction in overcoming; a desire to annihilate excites him; he reasons that competition will always yield to sinister. The bad streak will be like caramel ice cream: fundamentally boring vanilla ice cream, but with a strain of caramel running through; after eating it for a while, the caramel overwhelms the vanilla. His badness will not evolve from a principal level, but in a way that will show marginal overshadowing the bulk of good. He will not ultimately be liked, but the all the different sides of him will be understood.
Good and evil manifest themselves in subtle ways, and often masquerade as one another. Pruitt will make decisions in a gradual way, reacting while contributing. The final round will be the brief culmination of small activities. Think cooking ingredients--a little of this, a little of that. Pruitt is looking back onto the events of the last day of his life, so he has the benefit of objectivity. He sees how Bad Guy was intending, and he sees the outcomes of his actions. You can't make the Bad Guy too good, because after all Richard does screw him in the end. Likewise, Rich can't bee too good, because the audience needs to feel like they can relate to this guy, so it would be unwise to create a character who's some sort of ideal.
To add to the human experience element of the story, find ways to touch upon language and reactions as clumsy communicators. The focus should largely be on the last day of this guy's life. How to condense yet maintain the depth of the story? Avoid flashbacks and back-story narratives if possible.
posted by Pat at 5:31 PM
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