Tag Archives: fiction

Suspension of DisBelief

Lately, I’ve become more and more obsessed with the idea of bringing my stories into the real world. By that, I mean to blend reality and fiction. I want to smudge the boundaries between my fiction and the world we live in.

I have one or two ideas on how to do this. I want to have blog entries and photographs and graffiti on subway tunnel walls. I want the protagonist to leave an actual mark on the world. I want the reader to have trouble discerning what’s fact and what’s fiction. I want to shake people up, just the tiniest bit, so they’ll re-align what they think may be possible.

There are two plans, neither one of which I’ve set into motion. The first is smaller, a test project, to see if it’s a viable idea. It’ll only be online (for the most part). The second project will be much larger and span across multiple forms of media.

But first the little project. I need to get some things prepared before I can start it. I may link back to it from here. But I dunno about that. That would, after all, ruin the illusion.

Dylan Charles

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Filed under Writing: Novels, Stories, Blogs and Comics

A Noir: In Three Parts

Part 1: Introduction

Our hero stands not so tall above the grime and grit of the City. He wallows in the gutterstench and he has a grease slick smile that spreads like spilled oil. His words burn spark and inflame the coming conflict. More than anything, it’s his ability to rub everyone the wrong way that opens up the case.

He moves in slow spirals toward the abyss, circling passed the bottle blonde with the pouting lips and the hair’s breadth dagger, passed the two-timing hood with the half-bent nose and absent heart, passed the reclusive old man who buries his dirty secrets in the City’s darkest chasms.

Down the detective moves, into darkness, where only the sound of his heart can be heard.

Part 2: The Conflict

It starts as a heartbeat’s slow thud rhythm. A steady punctuation mark, an ellipses between actions…waiting. Then a noise. Cloth rustling.

The beat speeds up.

Then another rapping. Footsteps tapping on concrete floor, hard shoes that run for cover, ringing out staccatto beats. Stutter step, a missed beat here, quick step slide. A beat with no rhythm now. Missed breath, catch in chest, ratta-tat-tat, quick, duck, down, low.

Silence.

Explosion of noise. Orange flame, dark night, sparks of light. Here, here, here. Flash and bang. Quick shots. Duck, roll, drop, spin. Violent percussion, cacophony. No beat.

Just noise.

Then the scream…the wail….break and silence looms.

Part Three: The End

A long whispered sigh begins to count out the evils that lead to this moment; to this point where the detective stands over the villain. A quiet thrum of dialog that explains everything. The gradual spilling of truth in a room heavy with copper smells and acrid smoke. The dead keep silent in the wings while all is revealed and they find out why they had to die.

An unfolding explanation that brings resolution to the reader and leaves the detective nothing but a mouthfull of ashes and a longing for the bottle.

Dylan Charles

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The Crutch of the Matter

Since I’ve started working on my series of short stories, writing has become much easier for me. Not necessarily blog entries, since that’s a whole other process, but I’ve now written four or five stories (I lost count), all of which take place in that same world.

While I’m digging the ease of writing, but I’m getting a little spooked. It’s so easy to let this character and his world take over a lot of my heavy lifting. I make up new settings, but those settings follow the rules of this world. I create new characters, but, once again, they follow the rules of the world.

The rules are a large part of what makes writing challenging. They rules determine what is and what isn’t possible. They determine how people will react to events. They can determine atmosphere. And now, all of that is more or less settled for me.

Every time I get a new idea, I immediately try and see how it will fit in the confines of this world. “Ah-ha!” I’ll think, “A death hospital staffed by werewolves! How can I use that?” And instead of doing something new with it, I’ll paw at it and work it until it fits into the series.

While it seems soon to be worrying about this, I hope I’m not falling into some kind of rut. On the other hand, maybe I should just quit my whining and just keep plugging away. Writing is better than not writing. Plus I’ve got another idea that could be gangbusters.

Dylan Charles

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Filed under Writing: Novels, Stories, Blogs and Comics