Lovely Lit Feature #2 Sorry for this piece being a little later than usual-- I'm getting ready to go out of town for a week. This being said, I've doubled up the deviations featured, just in case I'm not back by the next Tuesday. Enjoy! Remember to read, comment,and favorite the works shown! They deserve it.Lovely Lit Feature #2 by saevuswinds
A Poem of No One by LeftUnfinished
consensus + AUDIO by Wordeea
|Leapin' Lizards, Batman! I've been featured here!|
And Two Years After That Night in Nasiriyah, now in storage.
And Two Years After That Night in Nasiriyah, now in storage.
Interviews & Reviews
Being Historical with doughboycafeHistory is cool. I could try to explain why, but if you aren't already interested, there's a better way to get on board: read and/or write historical fiction. Only...I can't say anything there, I don't know anything about historical fiction!
Daily Lit Deviant - @doughboycafeDaily Lit Deviant is an article put out on a daily basis throughout the year that is devoted to showing the work and accomplishments of one writer per article and presenting exemplary pieces of their work. It is based off of bowie-loon123's series of articles of the same name.
Writers of the Revolution, July 21Featured WRITER
The Saturday Spotlight for August 25th, 2012Guidelines | How to Suggest a DLD | Group Administrators | Affiliation | Chatroom | Current Staff Openings
Artist Interview - DoughBoyCafeArtist Interview with Professional Travel Writer http://doughboycafe.deviantart.com/ who has received a number of DD's with a recent DD being awarded for the piece A Guide to Writing Combat-Related Mental Illness at link http://doughboycafe.deviantart.com/art/A-Guide-to-Writing-Combat-Related-Mental-Illness-383688095. We have interviewed him below on his art.
Ok so we’ve all gotten part way through our stories. And then stopped. Probably because several people hit a brick wall and realized they are either missing critical information or worse yet – they got something wrong.
First part of this week’s lesson is: Guys, you’re going to get a lot of things wrong. No amount of research is going to give you the 100% the first time through. This is history, this is the grind. So the first thing you need to do is come to grips with the fact that there are inaccuracies in your story. Have we done that? Good. Now we can fix them.
But, doughboycafe, you tell me, my mistakes are really big and change the entire flow of the story! How the hell do I cope with that?
Let me tell you a story. I wrote a novel once. Then I realized after about a year’s worth of research more that one of the units I had stationed with my primary group of characters was British, though the area I had selected and built the book around never had any British units stationed during the Great War. It screwed up half the plot. Literally. Without this unit being English speaking and also in that area, about 12-15 of my 30 chapters fell apart. So I had to go back and redo the whole thing, finding new ways to incorporate all the elements I needed to make it work. I’m still rewriting some of those 12-15 chapters.
But the world didn’t end, and I’m doing it. So, you can too.
Second lesson: Your story has not fallen apart due to the inaccuracy. We will find a way around this. Remember that outline I had you make in the beginning? Go back to it. Look at the plot points. What is your story about? Is it about a murder? A prison sentence? An adventure? Or is it about the way the characters grow and change their perspectives via the adversity they’re undergoing? It’s the latter, it’s always the latter.
So if you have a massive issue or inaccuracy, go back to your outline. You need to do the following things: (Exercise 1)
Identify what elements you need out of the scene. In my case it was, native English speaking veteran soldiers, stationed in (x) area, not part of the American unit I was basing the story around. Pick out your own base elements and list them.
Identify why you were including this in the story to begin with. What is this scene, plot point, whatever, bringing to the table? In my case I needed native English speakers to present a foil to the principle characters, showing a dark mirror of the future for what they might become. So what are you using this issue to do?
start brainstorming other ways to fit the same concept with the same elements into your story a different way. In my case, I put volunteer Americans in a French unit that I knew was stationed there and it actually ended up working better for my purposes. Put these brainstorming notes at the bottom of your brainstorm scraps, and link me to that scrap again, so that VFreie and I can come around and help you.
Lesson 3, Resourcing. Now that you have run up against a wall, maybe your problem is you have gaps in your knowledge and you don’t know where to go next. This is ok. Historical fiction is always a process of writing, stopping, researching, writing a little more. Because the story is going to take shape as we write it and so inevitably we will come upon something we didn’t prepare for.
So how do you re-source?
This is where having that outline you did in Week 1 is going to be so damn important. If you are stuck, go back and look at your list of major plot points. Exercise 2, in your research and notes scrap, write out the list of things, even if they are general topics, that you need to get from where you are to the next plot point on your list.
More often than not, I find what I am lacking from initial research is social day to day material. I don’t actually know how this group or people lived. But this is alright, it’s narrowing down the field of what you need, and now when you go searching for it, you’ll know exactly what you are looking for. There are a lot of great documentaries and also anthropological studies and social history resources that can help with these things – also it is worth it if social history is your issue, to read novels written at the actual time period you’re working in, as they’ll reflect some aspects of the culture of the time. (Be aware, though, that even doing this should be taken with a grain of salt. Authors are still artist and of course they will reflect what they see and believe to be true, not the whole truth.)
Now for your next step: exercise 3, go back to your research table and look up 3 new sources that will help with the information gaps you need. Those of you that need access to JStor, please ask here and we will help find it. Otherwise, google scholar is still your best friend. Put your new sources in your scraps.
it is also worth pointing out at this juncture that you might have the information you need in your current sources. If you weren’t able to actually read through all of them, start doing that. See if they have an index to cut your research time down.
Or ask here because maybe someone else in the workshop can quickly point you in the direction of a good source, or just answer your question.
But doughboycafe, this is tedious and makes me lose heart!
Don’t. This is what you signed up for. This is the grind. Keep at it and you will produce a story you like, which will be good and solid and something to be proud of. You just need to stick through this tough part. I remember when I first went into archaeology school, I was sitting in a lecture hall with 500 other people for Arch 101. The first thing our professor told us is that 90% of archaeology is done in a library, so if we were expecting Indiana Jones, we should leave now. By the time I got to the second year course, there were only about 35 of us left. But it was totally worth it.
In outro, here are all the pieces currently underway – check them out! Leave feedback if you have time for the other participants.
Vive ou mortRaucous laughter behind me. I do not turn, but continue folding his clothes. Perhaps I flatten the uniform more than is necessary.
"My dear vivandière, how does this day find you?" Sabine—I shall never call her Frau or Fraulein—drapes her hand on my shoulder. The rest of her contingent is not with her. Her kind are not trusted this far inside the camp, and no surprise. Most of them are thieves. I watched one filch a gilt photo frame. God only knows what she planned to do with it.
"I am not a vivandière. I am Leutnant Brauner's wife."
"Leutnant Gauner," she snickers. "Perfect match."
My nail snags on the heavy cloth. Instead of responding to Sabine's taunts, I lift it to my mouth and tear it free. Too far—a sharp pain, blood welling at the jagged break.
"Best you tend to that. Surely Leutnant Brauner will have other tasks for you."
Sabine is a filthy woman. Before I joined the Prussian forces, I had not met such people, although I had heard
Historical Fiction Workshop Assignment 3Aurora Growing Radiant- Chapter 1
Fall came upon us early that year.
While the wives and we girls gathered in the great kitchen for the week's baking, the men gathered, without fail, in Frau Heigel's parlor. Her parlor was the largest out of all our homes, and her brother boasted he offered the best brew of beer to their guests. Papa disliked the gatherings when the men grew inebriated, but Papa himself never took more than one tankard.
As great as I feared the Frau's chiding were I caught eavesdropping on the men's discussions, I cared not. My fears outweighed any chiding she could mete.
In weeks prior, Papa had grown terse. His face darkened with such a grimace, it started me at times. Opa became restless as well- but for me, I think, he feigned his usual joviality for my sake.
There was talk of the Holy Roman Empire being killed- how does one kill an empire, or whatever it was? I was baffled, and none of my elders-even Papa- answered my questions.
So I fin
Historical Fition Workshop - Story StartJulia wipes the sweat off her brow with her left hand, holding the bucket between the cow’s legs steady with the other. She was really dying for a drink right now. She continued her milking, and Berta gently continued to chew on the grass in front of her. They didn’t own much in the way of cattle, just a couple of cows for milk, and two sheep for wool. A good thing, too, as the Nazis only bothered to take things in large amounts. The neighbors just down the road had owned a large cow farm before the war; then the Nazis came, and had taken them all, leaving them but a single cow. Julia wondered whether that had been out of mercy, or out of cruelty. The beast had been old and sickly, and they’d barely managed to even sell it. They’d moved to Amsterdam shortly after, and were now, presumably, staying with family there. In the city, she’d heard, there was at least some manner of controlled food supply. Ticket-offices, Markus had called them.
She cursed quietly
Histfict Workshop Week 3“Abaie, what will happen to us now?” I asked.
Shivering from the cold unknown future that awaits for us, I tried to snuggle up next to my sibling, my abaie, for comfort.
“I don’t know,” Numfon replied, barely audible as her silhouette buried its face into its hands.
They had swooped in like birds of prey, quick in pace, and before we knew it, we were whisked away. Up until then, the day had been tranquil, and we were playing in the field with the other children. In a sudden moment, all the other children, probably noticing shadows, had run off and yet we were so concentrated on observing that one small lizard that we had not noticed until they were close. Managing with only a short, brief cry, we had been cut off by them, bound and gagged, and carried off into the unknown. Their darker skin glistened under the sunlight emulating through the trees, and their unconcerned expressions unreadable. My eyes and cheeks stung from the endless tears that kept flowin
HistFic First (very rough) DraftElizabeth Stannum sat at her bedroom window, watching as the raindrops distorted her reflection. She recalled a million similar days at this same window, her reflection and the weather the only things that changed. And she craved change. The kind of change that happened 3 levels below where she now sat, in her father's basement laboratory. True, it wasn't as grand as the one at her Uncle's Estate in the country or at an Institute or University, but it was the only one that she, a woman was allowed in. In her eyes it was a wonderland, and every time she descended the stairs her heart fluttered and she felt like Alice tumbling through the Looking Glass.
At 18, she had already read every book, journal and scientific publishing her father kept in their home. In fact, he was so astounded that she could not only decipher the concepts in the technical and manly writings, but could understand most of it that he allowed her on occasion, to tinker with her own ideas or
Historical Workshop, Week 3 - WritingNic awoke to a violent headache. He clamped both hands over his face in an attempt to rub the fire from his eyes, but it only spread the flame. His bunk mate chuckled darkly from above him.
"Had yourself a good one last night, yeah?" Adler thrust a bottle of beer toward Nic's face. "It'll help take the edge off."
"Thanks," Nic said, then downed the bitter ale quickly. He coughed and Adler chuckled again before leaving the room.
Nic sat up and stared around blearily. In the center of the room, the remnants of the previous night's revelry lay scattered across the table. Friderick was slumped over his unfinished hand of cards. His cigar had burnt a hole through the SS insignia on his uniform. Bottles lay on the floor like corpses sprawled after a great battle. The stench of drunk sleep and vomit lay thick in the air. Nic coughed again, then cradled his still aching head as he sat up.
He pulled on his clothes and left the room, hissing against the chilled morning air. He headed for t
HistFic Draft 1My earliest memories are of the Roman invasion. Many men and some women took up their farming tools, their axes and whatever else the smiths had made, and marched to meet them.
‘They are going to take off all of their clothes, and paint themselves blue,’ Aesu, the blacksmith’s son, told me.
‘I know,’ I said. My mother had told me how our people fought.
A man came to our house to ask my father to go with them.
‘We can drive out the Romans if we all come together,’ he said.
‘I will not leave my wife and daughters,’ my father said, ‘in case I should not return.’
The farmer looked at me. I was behind my father, with my arms wrapped around his knees. When my father mentioned us, the farmer looked down at me. I peeped out at him and looked back. I did not understand anything that was being talked about. Perhaps it was my ignorance and innocence that made the farmer think for a moment.
(who did I miss?)
So let’s get crackin’ guys.