Louis Arata's Blog, page 20
May 30, 2014
Informed
A couple of posts ago, I wrote about finding the author in the work, i.e., looking for biographical elements in the story. It’s a tempting game to play but fairly pointless.
As a writer, I’m aware that my life informs my work. Who I am and what my world view is does affect how my characters see things. As for any big autobiographical pieces, I’m careful about what I cull from my life. I avoid modeling my characters after people I know, but I might sweeten a character’s history by incorporating a friend’s home state or professional career or a love of camping.
When I do use pieces of my life, I’m pretty selective. I currently live in Chicago, so I decided to set Dead Hungry there; it was fun bringing fictional mayhem to the streets. My characters attend Hawthorne University -- a conglomeration of my undergrad and grad institutions, plus two others in which I worked.
The book I’m currently working on, Reston Peace, takes place in Bradley, VA. I grew up outside the DC area, and I went to college in the panhandle of West Virginia. Bradley is informed by those locations – the landscape, the small town feel. Unlike the university in Dead Hungry, fictitious Dorcaster U. has a rural feel to it.
What surprises me are moments when my unconscious incorporates parts of my life. Again, it’s not like hugely obvious correlations – my character is left-handed or is 5’ 6” – but rather an unspoken thought finds its way into my character’s psyche.
In Dead Hungry, the characters are graduate students who are facing a radically-changing world in which Ghouls are part of the culture. This was a bit of a metaphor about how people adept (or don't) to rapid changes in the world. While working on the manuscript, I realized that this view grew out of my reaction to 9/11. I had never experienced before such a pivotal moment in cultural history – we woke up to one world, and by mid-morning everything had changed. Since that moment, I look at moments (both personal and societal) with very different eyes.
Could I have written Dead Hungry if 9/11 hadn’t happened? It’s hard to say. If I had, it would have been informed by a very different life.
As a writer, I’m aware that my life informs my work. Who I am and what my world view is does affect how my characters see things. As for any big autobiographical pieces, I’m careful about what I cull from my life. I avoid modeling my characters after people I know, but I might sweeten a character’s history by incorporating a friend’s home state or professional career or a love of camping.
When I do use pieces of my life, I’m pretty selective. I currently live in Chicago, so I decided to set Dead Hungry there; it was fun bringing fictional mayhem to the streets. My characters attend Hawthorne University -- a conglomeration of my undergrad and grad institutions, plus two others in which I worked.
The book I’m currently working on, Reston Peace, takes place in Bradley, VA. I grew up outside the DC area, and I went to college in the panhandle of West Virginia. Bradley is informed by those locations – the landscape, the small town feel. Unlike the university in Dead Hungry, fictitious Dorcaster U. has a rural feel to it.
What surprises me are moments when my unconscious incorporates parts of my life. Again, it’s not like hugely obvious correlations – my character is left-handed or is 5’ 6” – but rather an unspoken thought finds its way into my character’s psyche.
In Dead Hungry, the characters are graduate students who are facing a radically-changing world in which Ghouls are part of the culture. This was a bit of a metaphor about how people adept (or don't) to rapid changes in the world. While working on the manuscript, I realized that this view grew out of my reaction to 9/11. I had never experienced before such a pivotal moment in cultural history – we woke up to one world, and by mid-morning everything had changed. Since that moment, I look at moments (both personal and societal) with very different eyes.
Could I have written Dead Hungry if 9/11 hadn’t happened? It’s hard to say. If I had, it would have been informed by a very different life.
May 27, 2014
Beta Readers for Reston Peace
Okay, so I finished the draft of Reston Peace. Now it’s time for feedback before the next round of edits.
I’ve always had difficulty putting my work out there for critiques. It’s not that I’m afraid people won’t like it (well, maybe a little), but rather that I hate asking someone to invest their valuable time reading the manuscript. We all lead busy lives, and it’s hard to squeeze in everything we want to get done in a given day, so I get anxious asking for help.
When I asked people to read Dead Hungry, I warned them that it was a horror novel, so there was going to be graphic violence, strong language, and a body count. Fortunately, if they weren’t interested or didn’t care for the horror genre, the potential readers were upfront about it. Those who did read it gave me very useful feedback.
But Reston Peaceis more challenging. It’s not a horror novel, but rather a contemporary fiction piece that addresses sexual abuse, addiction and recovery. It contains strong language and explicit scenes of sex (definitely not erotica).
Here’s the blurb:
Read the Book! See the Movie!
Kenny Reston never thought those words would apply to his life. As an alcoholic and sex addict, he’s had to wrestle with his own demons.
Now clean and sober, he becomes a case study for a book on male survivors of sexual abuse. Then edgy film-maker Dilson Fillmore comes along and wants to put Kenny’s story on the big screen.
As he watches as his life is translated into print and film, Kenny must come to terms with his own past and learn how to return to the land of the living.
Down the road, I will be looking for a content editor, proofreader, and graphic designer/artist for the cover so any professional recommendations would be greatly appreciated.
Thanks.
I’ve always had difficulty putting my work out there for critiques. It’s not that I’m afraid people won’t like it (well, maybe a little), but rather that I hate asking someone to invest their valuable time reading the manuscript. We all lead busy lives, and it’s hard to squeeze in everything we want to get done in a given day, so I get anxious asking for help.
When I asked people to read Dead Hungry, I warned them that it was a horror novel, so there was going to be graphic violence, strong language, and a body count. Fortunately, if they weren’t interested or didn’t care for the horror genre, the potential readers were upfront about it. Those who did read it gave me very useful feedback.
But Reston Peaceis more challenging. It’s not a horror novel, but rather a contemporary fiction piece that addresses sexual abuse, addiction and recovery. It contains strong language and explicit scenes of sex (definitely not erotica).
Here’s the blurb:
Read the Book! See the Movie!
Kenny Reston never thought those words would apply to his life. As an alcoholic and sex addict, he’s had to wrestle with his own demons.
Now clean and sober, he becomes a case study for a book on male survivors of sexual abuse. Then edgy film-maker Dilson Fillmore comes along and wants to put Kenny’s story on the big screen.
As he watches as his life is translated into print and film, Kenny must come to terms with his own past and learn how to return to the land of the living.
Down the road, I will be looking for a content editor, proofreader, and graphic designer/artist for the cover so any professional recommendations would be greatly appreciated.
Thanks.
May 23, 2014
Reston Peace
Draft 2 of Reston Peace -- Done!
May 13, 2014
Separating the Author from the Work
I’m always looking for the author inside the book. "Did the writer really live in Panama for seven years? Did she attend Yale? Well, obviously this section could only be written by someone who knows what it’s like to ski professionally."
It’s a fun game to try to glean bits of autobiography from a novel. But does it help deepen my appreciation of the work? For example, Charles Dickens worked in a blacking factory as a young boy. Does the fact that he has David Copperfield work there as well make the episode more real or more poignant?
In The Stuff They Carried, Tim O’Brien wrangles with the very question of truth and autobiography with his stories about Viet Nam. In one story, he says a particular incident was absolutely true, and in the next he says he made it up but if it made you feel like you were in Viet Nam, then the story has served his purpose.
I have to be careful when I play the autobiography game because it can sometimes wreck the work for me.
Last night I finished an awesome novel -- a seminal work that influenced lots of other writers. For once, I didn’t play the autobiography game while I was reading it, but then I made a mistake and looked up the author’s bio on Wikipedia.
The writer has been vocal about some issues in society, and his viewpoint is the opposite of mine. Now I’m stuck. I don’t think I can read any more of his books, which is a shame because he is a really good writer.
Is that fair?
Shouldn’t I be able to separate the author from the work? Shouldn’t the writer have the freedom to hold personal views that are contrary to mine? And if I enjoy the writing, why wouldn’t I continue to read his work?
And yet I also have a responsibility to my conscience. I don’t want to support someone who actively works against an issue that is important to me. And how far should my reaction go?
In reading this particular novel, I did not glean any of the writer’s viewpoints on this social issue, but according to the Wikipedia bio, he does address the issue in other works. So, how far should my reaction go? Do I simply never read any more of his books or do I actively boycott his novels?
My writer-brain – the part of my brain that wants to learn from other writers – wishes I had remained blissfully ignorant of this information so I could continue reading his books and learn from his craft. And my belief in the freedom of speech makes me defend his right to his opinions, even if it leaves me in a tricky spot about his other novels.
Can I separate the author from the work? Apparently not.
It’s a fun game to try to glean bits of autobiography from a novel. But does it help deepen my appreciation of the work? For example, Charles Dickens worked in a blacking factory as a young boy. Does the fact that he has David Copperfield work there as well make the episode more real or more poignant?
In The Stuff They Carried, Tim O’Brien wrangles with the very question of truth and autobiography with his stories about Viet Nam. In one story, he says a particular incident was absolutely true, and in the next he says he made it up but if it made you feel like you were in Viet Nam, then the story has served his purpose.
I have to be careful when I play the autobiography game because it can sometimes wreck the work for me.
Last night I finished an awesome novel -- a seminal work that influenced lots of other writers. For once, I didn’t play the autobiography game while I was reading it, but then I made a mistake and looked up the author’s bio on Wikipedia.
The writer has been vocal about some issues in society, and his viewpoint is the opposite of mine. Now I’m stuck. I don’t think I can read any more of his books, which is a shame because he is a really good writer.
Is that fair?
Shouldn’t I be able to separate the author from the work? Shouldn’t the writer have the freedom to hold personal views that are contrary to mine? And if I enjoy the writing, why wouldn’t I continue to read his work?
And yet I also have a responsibility to my conscience. I don’t want to support someone who actively works against an issue that is important to me. And how far should my reaction go?
In reading this particular novel, I did not glean any of the writer’s viewpoints on this social issue, but according to the Wikipedia bio, he does address the issue in other works. So, how far should my reaction go? Do I simply never read any more of his books or do I actively boycott his novels?
My writer-brain – the part of my brain that wants to learn from other writers – wishes I had remained blissfully ignorant of this information so I could continue reading his books and learn from his craft. And my belief in the freedom of speech makes me defend his right to his opinions, even if it leaves me in a tricky spot about his other novels.
Can I separate the author from the work? Apparently not.
April 26, 2014
The Writer and the Reader
In theatre, there comes a particular moment – all the lines have been memorized, the blocking set, costume changes ironed out. The actors are edgy with the uncertainty of the final project because they’ve reached the point in which they need an audience.
Whenever I’ve been in a comedy, during the rehearsal process there are certain lines that the cast finds hysterically funny. When opening night arrives, they prepare themselves for the big reveal. They can’t wait to hear the audience laugh. And you know what? It doesn’t always happen the way you think. In fact, the laugh may come at a different moment.
In the play The Lion in Winter, Eleanor is hounding Henry about his decision to marry his lover Alais and have more sons. She starts cataloging all the way he is too old to beget another heir. “Suppose you’re daughtered next; we were – that, too, is possible. How old is Daddy then? What kind of spindly, ricket-ridden, milky, semi-witted, wizened, dim-eyed, gammy-handed, limp line of things will you beget?”
Henry responds, “It’s sweet of you to care.”
In reading the play, I always found Eleanor’s line to be the funny one. In actuality, the audience laughs at Henry’s.
As an actor, you won’t discover that moment until you have an audience.
It’s the same for a book. Orson Scott Card wrote: “The ‘true” story is not the one that exists in my mind; it is certainly not the written words on the bound paper that you hold in your hands. The story in my mind is nothing but a hope; the text of the story is the book I created in order to try to make that hope a reality. The story itself, the true story, is the one that the audience members create in their minds, guided and shaped by my text, but then transformed, elucidated, expanded, edited, and clarified by their own experience, their own desires, their own hopes and fears.”
Recently I finished rereading – for the seventh or eighth time – Patricia A. McKillip’s Riddlemaster trilogy. Many of the passages are familiar to me, and yet I felt like I was encountering the story for the first time, picking up nuances that I had forgotten or never noticed before.
All art is a form of communication. No matter if the reader is coming to the text for the first time, or is reading it again, the conversation continues. The writer needs the reader to share in the dialogue. The reader needs the writer to start the ball rolling.
Whenever I’ve been in a comedy, during the rehearsal process there are certain lines that the cast finds hysterically funny. When opening night arrives, they prepare themselves for the big reveal. They can’t wait to hear the audience laugh. And you know what? It doesn’t always happen the way you think. In fact, the laugh may come at a different moment.
In the play The Lion in Winter, Eleanor is hounding Henry about his decision to marry his lover Alais and have more sons. She starts cataloging all the way he is too old to beget another heir. “Suppose you’re daughtered next; we were – that, too, is possible. How old is Daddy then? What kind of spindly, ricket-ridden, milky, semi-witted, wizened, dim-eyed, gammy-handed, limp line of things will you beget?”
Henry responds, “It’s sweet of you to care.”
In reading the play, I always found Eleanor’s line to be the funny one. In actuality, the audience laughs at Henry’s.
As an actor, you won’t discover that moment until you have an audience.
It’s the same for a book. Orson Scott Card wrote: “The ‘true” story is not the one that exists in my mind; it is certainly not the written words on the bound paper that you hold in your hands. The story in my mind is nothing but a hope; the text of the story is the book I created in order to try to make that hope a reality. The story itself, the true story, is the one that the audience members create in their minds, guided and shaped by my text, but then transformed, elucidated, expanded, edited, and clarified by their own experience, their own desires, their own hopes and fears.”
Recently I finished rereading – for the seventh or eighth time – Patricia A. McKillip’s Riddlemaster trilogy. Many of the passages are familiar to me, and yet I felt like I was encountering the story for the first time, picking up nuances that I had forgotten or never noticed before.
All art is a form of communication. No matter if the reader is coming to the text for the first time, or is reading it again, the conversation continues. The writer needs the reader to share in the dialogue. The reader needs the writer to start the ball rolling.
April 24, 2014
April 22, 2014
Book Review: The Finding, by Nicky Charles
The Finding follows the story of Cassandra, a rich, young heiress who is struggling to suppress her inner werewolf. Having witnessed the death of her uncle as a result of a werewolf attack, she is understandably leery of the creatures and of her own repressed lycanthropy. As part of Lycan Law, a wolf pack that discovers a lone wolf can “claim” it as one of their own. Bryan, the Beta wolf of a Canadian pack, is sent to bring Cassie into the fold. What he does not expect is that his inner wolf and hers appear to be soul-mates.
This is the third book in the Law of the Lycans series, by Nicky Charles. I haven’t read the first two, but the author does a good job of giving the back story so I never felt lost. Also, she knows how to introduce a wide cast of characters and to keep a variety of storylines all moving forward. She takes great care in examining the inner struggle of Cassie and Bryan, as well as some of the secondary characters, and she excels in describing nuances of emotions. Even Cassie and Bryan as predestined soul-mates is managed with a degree of tension. You know that by the end of the book they will be together, but the author create characters who are not so sure about it.
Overall, I liked the book, and I’m interested in reading the first two books in the series. But I do have one major critique: the book needs to be trimmed. The plot sequence was fine, and the characters’ motivations made sense, but sometimes the narrative got bogged down in repetitive detail of Cassie and Bryan’s internal thoughts. Not every moment needs such precise examination. The author needs to trust that the reader is on-board. More judicious choices of which moments to examine would have helped with the pacing. Likewise, there are some redundant descriptions along the lines of:
“Kicking off his shoes and removing his shirt, [Bryan] dropped onto the bed, resting against the pillows. He sighed as his body relaxed for a moment the feel of the cool sheets and the quiet of the room before pulling his cell phone from his pocket. He’d check in with Ryne first. Folding one arm behind his head, he propped the phone between his shoulder and ear, absentmindedly scratching his chest while waiting for someone to pick up.”
Not a bad description in itself, but is it necessary to the story?
This is the third book in the Law of the Lycans series, by Nicky Charles. I haven’t read the first two, but the author does a good job of giving the back story so I never felt lost. Also, she knows how to introduce a wide cast of characters and to keep a variety of storylines all moving forward. She takes great care in examining the inner struggle of Cassie and Bryan, as well as some of the secondary characters, and she excels in describing nuances of emotions. Even Cassie and Bryan as predestined soul-mates is managed with a degree of tension. You know that by the end of the book they will be together, but the author create characters who are not so sure about it.
Overall, I liked the book, and I’m interested in reading the first two books in the series. But I do have one major critique: the book needs to be trimmed. The plot sequence was fine, and the characters’ motivations made sense, but sometimes the narrative got bogged down in repetitive detail of Cassie and Bryan’s internal thoughts. Not every moment needs such precise examination. The author needs to trust that the reader is on-board. More judicious choices of which moments to examine would have helped with the pacing. Likewise, there are some redundant descriptions along the lines of:
“Kicking off his shoes and removing his shirt, [Bryan] dropped onto the bed, resting against the pillows. He sighed as his body relaxed for a moment the feel of the cool sheets and the quiet of the room before pulling his cell phone from his pocket. He’d check in with Ryne first. Folding one arm behind his head, he propped the phone between his shoulder and ear, absentmindedly scratching his chest while waiting for someone to pick up.”
Not a bad description in itself, but is it necessary to the story?
April 18, 2014
Real-Life Ghouls
DISCLAIMER: The following topic addresses cannibalism.
My novel Dead Hungryis about Ghouls in modern-day Chicago. Unlike zombies, there is nothing supernatural about these Ghouls. They are simply a subset of humanity that has a predilection for human flesh. I wanted them to be real people who are trying to adapt in a world that will never accept or understand them.
When I was writing the first draft, I did some research on modern cannibalism. Most of the time, it was news stories about serial killers like Jeffrey Dahmer. Other stories were about the Donner Party, starving villagers during World War II, or the soccer team that crashed in the Andes.
In other words, there was some measure of distance from these events.
I was working on the second draft of the novel in May 2012. That month in Miami, Rudy Eugene attacked and bit most of the face off of Ronald Poppo. At the time, there was speculation that Eugene was high on the designer drug Bath Salts. Subsequent investigation revealed only marijuana in Eugene’s system. There is still no explanation for why he attacked Poppo.
Two days later, I read a report about a graduate student who allegedly killed and ate his roommate.
To say the least, I was disturbed by these news reports. It made what I was writing a little too real.
Well, three days ago, there was another report about two brothers in Pakistan who dug up over 100 graves and stole the bodies, which they allegedly consumed.
It makes me wonder if cannibalism is becoming more prevalent or if instances of it are being reported more frequently. Also, I could simply be more attuned to seeing the news stories since I wrote the book.
There is a satiric theme to Dead Hungry in terms of what is permissible in society and what we get acclimated to. When I chose to write about cannibalism, I simply chose the most horrifying act I could think of. I didn’t expect it to be in any way relevant to our present-day world.
The novel I’m currently working on, Reston Peace, addresses issues of incest and sexual abuse. Again, not an appealing topic, but one that is very prevalent in our world. At least in this case, I went into writing the novel with my eyes open to the reality. But it is still startling to read news stories that correlate to the topic: the Penn State scandal, priests in the Catholic church. Over the last week, in the Chicago Tribune, I’ve seen three stories about sexual assaults and two stories on pedophilia.
As a writer, I’m always mining news sites for possible topics. Even as I translate these reports into novels or short stories, I confess I am still a little startled to see the fine line that exists between fiction and reality.
My novel Dead Hungryis about Ghouls in modern-day Chicago. Unlike zombies, there is nothing supernatural about these Ghouls. They are simply a subset of humanity that has a predilection for human flesh. I wanted them to be real people who are trying to adapt in a world that will never accept or understand them.
When I was writing the first draft, I did some research on modern cannibalism. Most of the time, it was news stories about serial killers like Jeffrey Dahmer. Other stories were about the Donner Party, starving villagers during World War II, or the soccer team that crashed in the Andes.
In other words, there was some measure of distance from these events.
I was working on the second draft of the novel in May 2012. That month in Miami, Rudy Eugene attacked and bit most of the face off of Ronald Poppo. At the time, there was speculation that Eugene was high on the designer drug Bath Salts. Subsequent investigation revealed only marijuana in Eugene’s system. There is still no explanation for why he attacked Poppo.
Two days later, I read a report about a graduate student who allegedly killed and ate his roommate.
To say the least, I was disturbed by these news reports. It made what I was writing a little too real.
Well, three days ago, there was another report about two brothers in Pakistan who dug up over 100 graves and stole the bodies, which they allegedly consumed.
It makes me wonder if cannibalism is becoming more prevalent or if instances of it are being reported more frequently. Also, I could simply be more attuned to seeing the news stories since I wrote the book.
There is a satiric theme to Dead Hungry in terms of what is permissible in society and what we get acclimated to. When I chose to write about cannibalism, I simply chose the most horrifying act I could think of. I didn’t expect it to be in any way relevant to our present-day world.
The novel I’m currently working on, Reston Peace, addresses issues of incest and sexual abuse. Again, not an appealing topic, but one that is very prevalent in our world. At least in this case, I went into writing the novel with my eyes open to the reality. But it is still startling to read news stories that correlate to the topic: the Penn State scandal, priests in the Catholic church. Over the last week, in the Chicago Tribune, I’ve seen three stories about sexual assaults and two stories on pedophilia.
As a writer, I’m always mining news sites for possible topics. Even as I translate these reports into novels or short stories, I confess I am still a little startled to see the fine line that exists between fiction and reality.
April 9, 2014
An Unexpected Party
At the start of the third part of Reston Peace, Kenny attends a Thanksgiving dinner, hosted by Marilyn, one of his co-workers. Marilyn is the only one he knows, so he has to navigate the social awkwardness of celebrating a holiday with strangers.
Marilyn’s sister Denise has just moved to town, and unexpectedly she and Kenny hit it off.
The funny thing about writing this scene is that I had no idea Denise would be part of it. I was brainstorming, looking for a way to move the story forward. Sort of an introductory scene to get to a later event. Since Kenny lives a fairly solitary life, his chance of human interactions is limited. Marilyn is a boisterous co-worker – the kind who hosts big holidays for all the “strays and orphans” – so it made sense that she’d invite him over for Thanksgiving.
And out of nowhere Denise shows up. She was nowhere in my plans for the novel, but in a flash she became an integral part. She has spirit, spark, wit and compassion, and enough of her own baggage to empathize with Kenny’s struggles. Over the remaining part of the novel, she is the one Kenny learns to confide in.
The dialogue between them was some of the easiest to write. They naturally play off each other, first in a friendly manner, then a little more flirtatious. Not animal magnetism but rather an easy, comfortable sense of connection. Plus, they share a similar sense of humor.
The writing process fascinates me. How can a piece suddenly assert itself and become absolutely essential to the story? How can an unplanned event have such dramatic repercussions? It’s like taking an unexpected detour and discovering a beautiful scenic overlook.
Perhaps because Kenny is ready to reengage with life, that is why Denise appears. Maybe the lesson for me is that when the writer is ready, the characters will come.
Marilyn’s sister Denise has just moved to town, and unexpectedly she and Kenny hit it off.
The funny thing about writing this scene is that I had no idea Denise would be part of it. I was brainstorming, looking for a way to move the story forward. Sort of an introductory scene to get to a later event. Since Kenny lives a fairly solitary life, his chance of human interactions is limited. Marilyn is a boisterous co-worker – the kind who hosts big holidays for all the “strays and orphans” – so it made sense that she’d invite him over for Thanksgiving.
And out of nowhere Denise shows up. She was nowhere in my plans for the novel, but in a flash she became an integral part. She has spirit, spark, wit and compassion, and enough of her own baggage to empathize with Kenny’s struggles. Over the remaining part of the novel, she is the one Kenny learns to confide in.
The dialogue between them was some of the easiest to write. They naturally play off each other, first in a friendly manner, then a little more flirtatious. Not animal magnetism but rather an easy, comfortable sense of connection. Plus, they share a similar sense of humor.
The writing process fascinates me. How can a piece suddenly assert itself and become absolutely essential to the story? How can an unplanned event have such dramatic repercussions? It’s like taking an unexpected detour and discovering a beautiful scenic overlook.
Perhaps because Kenny is ready to reengage with life, that is why Denise appears. Maybe the lesson for me is that when the writer is ready, the characters will come.
April 7, 2014
"Outlining for Writers Who Don't Outline," by J.S. Morin
Here's a great blog by J.S. Morin, author of Twinborn Trilogy (Firehurler, Aethersmith, and Sourcethief). He lists very simple steps for outlining when you don't want to spend time outlining (I'm guilty of this):
Outlining For Writers Who Don't Outline
For me, part of the writing process is the sense of unexpected discovery. But there's much to be said about having a direction. Typically I have to have the first and last scenes planned, and some major key points along the way.
Another technique I've found helpful is to outline the draft that I have -- laying out the episodes so I can catch redundancies and dead-fall. By working on the progression of events, I can ultimately streamline the final story.
Outlining For Writers Who Don't Outline
For me, part of the writing process is the sense of unexpected discovery. But there's much to be said about having a direction. Typically I have to have the first and last scenes planned, and some major key points along the way.
Another technique I've found helpful is to outline the draft that I have -- laying out the episodes so I can catch redundancies and dead-fall. By working on the progression of events, I can ultimately streamline the final story.
