Patience . . .
Oct. 23rd, 2002 09:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pegkerrHave been reading about trolls tonight, and wondering how it all fits together. So far I feel I have amorphous scenes and half-sketched (be honest, quarter-sketched) characters, and nothing yet clear to me that makes it all hang together.
This is something I'm still getting the hang of, identifying the "tipping point" when you can begin writing. I knew I had enough for the first scene, so I wrote that. After I've talked with Inga and asked some basic questions (tell me about Solveig's educational background. How long would it take from the time the architecture firm gets the bid and the ice palace is built? Describe what a firm's open house party/bash for winning a big bid might be.) I could maybe write the next several scenes after that: Jack and Solveig meet as the firm announces they've won the Ice Palace bid.
But after that, I have to know what's going on. You can write opening stuff for so long, and then you have to stop and figure stuff out. Then you can (hopefully) start writing steadily because you know you're going somewhere.
I still need connective tissue.
Questions:
What is Jack up to? What do his changes to the plan of the Ice Palace mean?
What are the fish up to?
What's the threat?
Who goes to see the troll under Minnehaha Falls and why?
What does the Little Guy have to say, and what was the question asked that made him say it?
What else is going on in the story beside the planning/building of the Ice Palace?
Why are Agnes and Ingrid in the story? What do they have to do with whatever Solveig has to discover in the book?
What, after all, does Solveig discover? Something about truth/lies? Something about overcoming broken faith to trust again?
What do Jack and Solveig mean to each other?
What part does the State Fair play in all this?
Frankly, this waiting around/trying to figure things out is a little scary. It's hard, after four years of block, to have faith that my back brain is going to somehow cough up an answer/structure that will make everything fit together. So I try not to panic and instead to sidle up to the problem sideways by peering out of the corner of my eye at it instead of tackling it head on. And I am doing my best to prime the pump by reading stuff that the backbrain can use to tie it together (i.e., this Norse folklore book, and the Winter Carnival book when it arrives). And I sketch little scenes while I wait for the connections to appear . . . except nothing was written on those tonight. Just thinking.
(Don'tpanicdon'tpanicdon'tpanicdon'tpanic)
Here's something else from the mirror of Galadriel: I see Jack and Solveig running, hell-bent-for-leather from Loring Park over the pedestrian bridge (across Hennepin), dashing toward the glass pavilion with the giant glass fish in the Sculpture Garden, by the Walker. Something is after them, something scary, evil, on the dark side. I can barely make out weird, shadowy shapes (I think of the Wargs in the Hobbit). This would be in summer, I think? Fire and air are the domain of summer magic, but the glass pavilion with its glass fish is somehow attuned to winter magic. So if they reach the pavilion, they will be safe there until morning, when the creatures all mysteriously disappear.
Hmm. . .
This is something I'm still getting the hang of, identifying the "tipping point" when you can begin writing. I knew I had enough for the first scene, so I wrote that. After I've talked with Inga and asked some basic questions (tell me about Solveig's educational background. How long would it take from the time the architecture firm gets the bid and the ice palace is built? Describe what a firm's open house party/bash for winning a big bid might be.) I could maybe write the next several scenes after that: Jack and Solveig meet as the firm announces they've won the Ice Palace bid.
But after that, I have to know what's going on. You can write opening stuff for so long, and then you have to stop and figure stuff out. Then you can (hopefully) start writing steadily because you know you're going somewhere.
I still need connective tissue.
Questions:
What is Jack up to? What do his changes to the plan of the Ice Palace mean?
What are the fish up to?
What's the threat?
Who goes to see the troll under Minnehaha Falls and why?
What does the Little Guy have to say, and what was the question asked that made him say it?
What else is going on in the story beside the planning/building of the Ice Palace?
Why are Agnes and Ingrid in the story? What do they have to do with whatever Solveig has to discover in the book?
What, after all, does Solveig discover? Something about truth/lies? Something about overcoming broken faith to trust again?
What do Jack and Solveig mean to each other?
What part does the State Fair play in all this?
Frankly, this waiting around/trying to figure things out is a little scary. It's hard, after four years of block, to have faith that my back brain is going to somehow cough up an answer/structure that will make everything fit together. So I try not to panic and instead to sidle up to the problem sideways by peering out of the corner of my eye at it instead of tackling it head on. And I am doing my best to prime the pump by reading stuff that the backbrain can use to tie it together (i.e., this Norse folklore book, and the Winter Carnival book when it arrives). And I sketch little scenes while I wait for the connections to appear . . . except nothing was written on those tonight. Just thinking.
(Don'tpanicdon'tpanicdon'tpanicdon'tpanic)
Here's something else from the mirror of Galadriel: I see Jack and Solveig running, hell-bent-for-leather from Loring Park over the pedestrian bridge (across Hennepin), dashing toward the glass pavilion with the giant glass fish in the Sculpture Garden, by the Walker. Something is after them, something scary, evil, on the dark side. I can barely make out weird, shadowy shapes (I think of the Wargs in the Hobbit). This would be in summer, I think? Fire and air are the domain of summer magic, but the glass pavilion with its glass fish is somehow attuned to winter magic. So if they reach the pavilion, they will be safe there until morning, when the creatures all mysteriously disappear.
Hmm. . .
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-23 08:14 pm (UTC)Your talk of fire and air as summer magic somehow brought to mind Lackey's "The Fire Rose", which was one of the few books I've read that has discussed the elemental magics.
Meanwhile, find a copy of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, or whichever book has the "Don't Panic" button on the front -- and display it prominantly. The very fact that you're considering all these important points speaks well for your discovering the answers. It will all come together. It will. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-23 10:33 pm (UTC)Why are Agnes and Ingrid in the story? What do they have to do with whatever Solveig has to discover in the book?
Hmm. I give no answers, but I do have a possibly useful handful of questions: is there any connection in your mind between the balance of winter/summer magic and the agricultural fortunes of the region? I mean, both winter and summer have very important stuff going on in them, agriculturally -- gotta have that snow cover to protect the plants, or they get winter-killed. Snow's insulation, and it's also stored water for the springtime, when the crops and everything will need it to grow. (A'course, if it gets let go all at once, there's floods, which can be a tad counter-productive. Scary besides. I've seen that happen emotionally, too, sometimes when folks have been frozen up a long time. That ice-rune I was telling you about, the one with the oft-overlooked protective meaning, that's all connected to how sometimes the smartest thing to do is to hold still... except, then, what if you freeze that way?) Does that hook in anywhere?
Do Agnes and Ingrid have any connections to growing things, to agriculture, to ecology, to caring about the way climate and other changes affect where they live? I forget how old the daughter is, but is there some school stuff touching on this for her? And what's Mormor's connection to the land and to the growing cycles, if any?
Not enough water in each cycle brings on the risks of two kinds of burning: the winter-kill cold burning, and the summertime prairie fire or forest fire. Fire's warmth, yeah, but only in moderation is it life-giving. Everything takes its turn.
Hey, do they go up to a cabin ever? Just wondering suddenly.
And about the big glass fish: you might want sometime to ask Bob about it, since I think he is closely acquainted with it through his work. (I went through the building with him once, and we had a fascinating discussion about structure, stress points, and the characteristics of the materials used.)
(And now I'm wondering if the goldfish in Loring Pond were actually pieces of fire....)
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-23 11:13 pm (UTC)B
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-24 09:36 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-24 02:35 pm (UTC)Aquatennial
Date: 2002-10-25 04:36 am (UTC)Also, the torchlight parade. Winter magic is water and earth, summer magic is fire and air.
So yes, I'm definitely going to use the Aquatennial.
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-24 08:26 pm (UTC)I am now musing about the relationship of norse-inspired local myth and norse-inspired local architecture. Both forms have to respect the landscape and climate even while harking to a different tradition. Even just the decorative themes found in so much of our public architecture reflects those geometric patterns that I associate with scandinavian knits, stuff like that.
hm.
Intriguing
Date: 2002-10-25 04:37 am (UTC)Re: Intriguing
Date: 2002-10-25 08:10 am (UTC)Here's one of bus stop glass details. Similarly, the guard railing in this photo. I'm thinking particularly of the deco, prairie-style stuff. Even the manhole covers in downtown St. Paul often have references like that. Incredible attention to detail. Very Minnesotan.