Another Average Article
Well today I didn't do anything special. I started the day with, of course, breakfast, which consisted of two loafs of cornbread. After breakfast, I finished the rest of the book, Stories of Your Life and Others. Then I started to practice typing. I typed for about 45 minutes, then I learned Chinese from a random Chinese book for about an hour. The book didn't have any pronunciations above the words, making it harder to read. I still had to read for a little more, so I read a few pages out of the book, The Windup Girl. This book is very boring. It's making it very hard to concentrate on actually reading the book. I then played on the PS3 until dinner (about 2 1/2 hours). From then on, I did various activities, including playing cards and watching T.V. I like it here in Boston, although it is very hot and humid. I like how there is always random thunderstorms. I like the beach, with its abundant amounts of sea snails and clams. Calm, quiet, green, watery Boston provides a welcomed contrast from the bustling, smog-filled city of LA. There are also some reasons I don't like Boston. I just don't like how the buildings in Boston are so old. Almost every building you look at is a historical monument - I don't like that.
Signing out---
"Calm, quiet, green, watery Boston provides a welcomed contrast from the bustling, smog-filled city of LA." <--- I like this sentence =)
ReplyDeletePaolo Bacigalupi is a master storyteller; pay attention to the way he uses language. He's very fluid. Up until now, you've always read and enjoyed stories and books with a lot of action. But there is so much more out there in the literary world! Learn to love more than just the plot, and you will be well on your way to great heights.
"Today, I didn't do anything special." <---This is very depressing. Dreary. Bleh. It makes the reader not want to read any more. Imagine a politician giving a speech, and saying, "Well, I'm not anything special. At all, really. But you should vote for me anyways." Would you like him? No! Your goal as a writer is to make things INTERESTING!!!!!!!!!!
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Your first sentence signals: "I am about to bore you." Why would you do that to your audience!?!?
Surely, your entire day can't have been a complete and utter waste, right? There must have been SOMETHING interesting to build off of, right? You want to engage your reader! Grab him by the scruff of his shirt and inject zany appeal directly into his frontal lobe!
*Ahem* Anyways. Back to the subject.
"From then on, I did various activities, including playing cards and watching T.V." <---The word "various" is redundant. Never use the word "various." It's just too general, like "stuff" and "things." Avoid and all costs. Why not restructure your sentence, "Afterwards, I played cards and watched TV."
Or better yet, "Having exhausted my addiction to video games for the night, I went on to play cards with Sarah, getting my ass handed to me on a silver platter. She's a brilliant card player, in case you didn't know. After several humiliating defeats, I retired to the couch and watched TV, with the sole intent of liquifying my brain into mush."
You're summarizing your day here - where are the deeper thoughts? For your next post, write something that was thought-provoking; what made you stop and think that day?
For example, I'm going to write a bit on something that made me think while I was in Hawaii. I'm not saying you should write or structure your posts like this, but you want to take something interesting and tell us what you thought of it.
ReplyDeleteI've always been a book-shop lover, popping in on the second-hand stores and indie booksellers of whatever area I'm in, but at Maui, I discovered the joys of art gallery hopping. Even if it does come with reservations.
There's a busy, well-mannered street in Lahaina that acts a tourist trap, filled with souvenir shops and trinket hawkers. You'll find the seaside to your left, a shaved ice vendor every twenty paces, and cheap T-shirts for sale by the dozen. But walking down the wind-fluttered street with my newly bought flip-flops (a first), it was the art galleries that I loved.
Those score or so of stores are a signature of the town, much like the Hollywood sign for LA or Chinatown for San Francisco. When I first walked into one, I felt like a kid in a ball pit again. So much to see! Menageries of oil, metal, paint and canvas swirling from wall to wall, twisted sculptures sprouting from the ground, moments of stark-eyed time frozen behind glass.
Museums are noiseless voids with nothing but you and the artwork - they're meant to present it, to minimize distractions, to lay bare the piece and nothing but the piece. But an art gallery tries to sell the works to you, and that distinction makes a world of difference. The owners give their stores character: the lighting is turned just so, the wallpaper complements the pieces, funky music jams in the background, quirky couches let you lounge about.
Most of the exhibits were of local artists. And a lot of it was scenery of Hawaii, the famous beaches and landmarks done in a dozen different styles. But it was appealing, just hopping from store to store, admiring stain-glassed lamps and spray-painted metal seascapes. Don't get me wrong - I know nothing about art, and some of the works were mediocre in the extreme. But it was fun.
But then there's the other side. When we got to Honolulu, we took to the streets again, doing what I like to call the chimney-sweep walk. A shuffle here, a good step there, with a fair measure of arms waving about.
And lo and behold, there were galleries in downtown Honolulu too! And they were the exact same ones. With the exact same artists. With the exact same paintings.
I knew that most works displayed in galleries are digital reprints, but this was a little cutting it. I still enjoyed browsing, but the fact remained that I was essentially looking at chain-stores. The Walmarts of art, catering to tourists with a selection of pieces they knew had sold well in the past.
Imagine going to a local coffeeshop - the one that's been a favorite haunt of yours for the past few years. You love the idiosyncratic employees, the comfy worn-down couches, the artsy-but-homey pictures on the wall, and the faded scruffy carpet. They always play good music there, a fine blend of indie bluegrass, and the coffee beans they sell come in these cute handmade paper packages. You like to run your hand across the counter, which has a pleasant texture that for whatever reason, reminds you of chestnuts.
One drizzling afternoon, you arrive at another city to visit a friend. It's cold outside, so you hop into the nearest coffeeshop. Only to find that it's the exact twin of the one at home, from the table arrangements down to the napkins they use. You stand there for a moment, in the warm light of familiar loopy lamps, and wonder if you'll enjoy the shop any less than you used to. Maybe, but probably not. Just a bit of reservation held in mind as you sip your morning usual, indie bluegrass strumming in the backdrop.
That's my reaction. I still enjoy it, but I take it with a few pebbles of salt. Commercialization sets art galleries apart from museums, and breaths life into them, but it can also taketh away. Best if one looks and admires, but doesn't touch.