high_time wrote...
i realized after writing my entry that I'm quite weak at doing narratives. it's like, only exposition and so forth let the rest be imagined by readers, I only want to write things I deem a bit important.
at times I kinda want to explain everything plainly and straight to the point because I don't really know what is the point of going through details about the journey when I could jump straight to the conclusion!
maybe I should try doing some proper narratives after familiarizing myself with prologues. I wanna think about the exercises. something something 'bout a plot card?
it goes like this: you think up random words, write random sentences based upon it, scramble it and try writing things that somehow made a bit of sense. maybe there's a lot of other things too I can learn.
well except of reading many fictional works, I kinda gave up reading most of them because I can't really understand what was written lol
though I know its important to read once in a while.
Good! That means you would not be writing like George Martin, introducing strange words and ideas that people not familiar with his universe would not be able to understand. The point of a prologue is to orientate the reader of the story into the universe and not to leave matters of exposition to the later chapters.
I think you did the task of orientating a reader into that fantasy universe extremely well in your entry. (Martin did not)
As for how to flesh out the story, I am personally of the opinion that any story is made up of many shorter stories with the end of each short story leading on the beginning of another short story.
Take the Tale of Two Cities which Shikinokami has an irrational hatred of. It is a story about a fictional account of how the French Revolution started and ended with most of the characters central to the story fleeing for England. However, many shorter but nonetheless significant stories, starting with the banker Jarvis Lorry receiving a letter about some old man called Alexandre Manette being 'raised from the dead'. One story led to another until the final conclusion.
Oh yes, did I mention that the Tale of Two Cities has a proper prologue introducing the reader to England and France of the late 18th century?
That said, allow me to step on more toes by complaining about the Game of Thrones:
__________________________________________
Already, I hear the chorus of execration. How dare I say such a horrible thing about a popular novel that has been adapted into a successful television series that was so obviously based on the War of the Roses with zombies, incest and an iron throne that looks like my face? How dare I stir up trouble by pointing out that the prologue fails in its purpose to make sense of the setting of the story with its penchant for confusing this reader with unelaborated outlandish terms? How dare I display such insensitivity to the feelings of those who already understood the nomenclature of Martin's universe which are also alien, misleading and confusing to the fresh reader? To that I say, I have more issues with the prologue of that story!
Putting aside my distaste for how little things are explained and how inadequate I felt the introduction of the characters of the story were, perhaps the prose of this story might help me to make sense of it. This brings us to this part of the story which follows the introduction of Will:
Will had been a hunter before he joined the Night’s Watch. Well, a poacher in truth. Mallister freeriders had caught him red-handed in the Mallisters’ own woods, skinning one of the Mallisters’ own bucks, and it had been a choice of putting on the black or losing a hand. No one could move through the woods as silent as Will, and it had not taken the black brothers long to discover his talent.
“The camp is two miles farther on, over that ridge, hard beside a stream,” Will said. “I got close as I dared. There’s eight of them, men and women both. No children I could see. They put up a lean-to against the rock. The snow’s pretty well covered it now, but I could still make it out. No fire burning, but the firepit was still plain as day. No one moving. I watched a long time. No living man ever lay so still.”
“Did you see any blood?”
With respect to the words that are not struck off and are bolded, I have this to say:
[size=28]
WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?! [/h]
I realised that in order to make sense of how the camp was relevant in the grand scheme of things, I had flip back to one or two pages and I reminded myself that our soon-to-be dead heroes were hot on the heels of a few wildings, which I don't know about, when Will found a few of them dead instead of being turned into ice zombies. There was a lot of (needed) digression to introduce the characters (rather inadequately). Then, I returned to the previous paragraphs that preceded it and found Ser Waymar Royce saying, "Tell me again what you saw, Will. All the details. Leave nothing out." So it seemed that Will was responding to Ser Waymar Royce.
(I have to add that the act of reading this book where I can only make sense of what was happening but constantly referring to the previous pages was rather frustrating. Do spare a thought for imbeciles with poor memories such as myself, Mr. Martin.)
Now I return to that eyesore of a response that led to my outburst in big, bolded and red font,
“The camp is two miles farther on, over that ridge, hard beside a stream,”
How was that a proper response to Royce's question about what he saw? It seemed to be as if Will was giving directions which Royce did not ask for.
I also thought to myself what camp it was? Did it belong to the wildlings that I don't know about? Was it the camps belonging to that of the Night Watch which I don't know about? The answer appeared to be of the former but I found that writing style of Martin's very confusing.
Another example of that was Martin's technique of explaining matters using dialogue like the following lines:
“Did you see any weapons?”
“Some swords, a few bows. One man had an axe. Heavy-looking, double-bladed, a cruel piece of iron. It was on the ground beside him, right by his hand.”
“Did you make note of the position of the bodies?”
Will shrugged. “A couple are sitting up against the rock. Most of them on the ground. Fallen, like.”
“Or sleeping,” Royce suggested.
I personally would have preferred a few sentences in between lines of dialogue that explained what the conversation was about. The interrogation of Will saw went from the discovery of the camp, weapons and the position of the bodies, all of which I thought were a bit challenging to associate with each other.
I could have placed one or two sentences in between dialogue if I were Martin. For example:
“Did you see any weapons?”, Ser Waymar asked for he had a fetish for weapons wielded by the supposedly dead wildling plants.
“Some swords, a few bows. One man had an axe. Heavy-looking, double-bladed, a cruel piece of iron. It was on the ground beside him, right by his hand.”, Will replied.
Ser Waymar's necrophiliac urges begun to kick in and he asked that very strange question, "Did you make note of the position of the bodies?"
Furthermore, it is difficult to read dialogue. The characters know they are talking about and would leave out details which they already know but not known to the reader. Expecting this reader to figure out everything based on dialogue with their fragmented sentences and lack of context is too much for him.
The best example of such dialogue is the very first line of this story,
“We should start back,” Gared urged as the woods began to grow dark around them. “The wildlings are dead.”
Head back to where? Who are the wildlings? Where are they? These are the things that ought to be explained either awkwardly by the characters themselves or in third person. Leaving the dialogue as it is makes for confusion for this reader.