Writing: Themes In Your Work

 

If you answered “yes,” is the theme intentional, or unintentional?

Would you be willing to share this “theme” with us?

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Character Versus Plot

Book reading

 

This past week, I put out a poll on various social media sites asking writers what they considered was the most important element of any given story.   Not surprisingly, there seems to be a split between the Character element and the Plot element as evident below:

 

“I voted for Character, but beyond that, the narrative voice. There are some voices, like those from Flannery O’Connor, Sue Monk Kid, and even Anne Lamott, that I’ll listen to even if I’m not interested, per se, in the topic. It’s like wearing a warm flannel shirt that feels like home.”tomadaonline

“Compelling characters move the plot, make settings more than a travelogue, give themes meaning w/which readers can identify.”We PAW Bloggers

“Has to be plot. You can have compelling characters, intricate settings… but if they’re doing bugger all it’s a bad story!”The Written Ward

 

What about you?  Would you like to add your input to this debate?  Do you think Character is more important to a story than the Plot?  Or, perhaps the genre a story is in has a hand in determining which element would be the driving force?  If you’re interested on continuing or even expanding on this debate, how about writing a guest post?   Let me know via the Contact page!

 

Journey As a Writer and a Blogger (Part Two)

As you may have noticed through my recent posts, I seem to be struggling with self-identity as well as wondering what role(s) I should take on as a writer/blogger since I left the work place permanently over a year ago.

Below are some of the posts I’m referring to:

Are you a blogger or a writer? (Poll)

Journey as a writer and a blogger

Quotes about writing and blogging

One of the by-products of being home full-time (and as a person who can not drive so am pretty much house-bound) is that I tend to over-analyze things.  More times than not, this is counter-productive.

Well, for me it is.

Many of my readers have told me that blogging/writing actually work well together.  Yes, you can be both a writer and a blogger.

I’m now starting to understand what they mean.

There are those who write horror or science fiction books/stories, and then turn around and blog about things that relate to their work (such as movie or book reviews, various topics within the particular genre, etc.).

Those in the nonfiction realm would publish a memoir or essays based on personal experiences would in turn blog about topics that relate to these (mental health issues, cancer or other life-threatening diseases, victims of sexual abuse, etc.).

On and on the list of examples could go; but, I hope you get the point.

I suppose the underlying theme of all this is find your “brand” as a writer, and then build your blog(s) around that “brand.”

This is starting to sound like a marketing or business scheme…but, I guess when you get down to the nitty-gritty of it all, yeah, I think that what it’s about.   It’s about sharing what you are as a writer, and your work, with your audience.  Hence, that’s where blogging comes in.

Well, that’s how I’m starting to perceive blogging to be.  Perhaps I could be wrong.

What do you think?

 

 

 

 

Themes and Writing

monsters

I believe every writer has a certain theme (s) that consistently shows up in his/her writing.  One of mine involves being hunted/terrorized by creatures.  When I was younger, I used to be a runner as well as a biker (no, not the Harley Davidson, but as an athletic racer), and for some reason, I became a popular target for dogs.  I’ve been chased down (and even bitten) more times than I can count.  So, in my dreams, I’d have these nightmares that would plague me where I would be hunted by these horrific monsters that resembled dogs, and just when they attack I’d wake up, many times covered in sweat.

But, my earliest memory of ever having a creature come for me occurred when I was around six years old.  I’ve captured this experience in a poem (which was also published with Piker Press) called Shadows:

As a young girl, I once had an experience
       that I believed was not a dream
As dawn broke, I looked down the hallway
       from my bedroom;
And saw a pair of shadows moving along
       the wall
It was of a man sitting in a wheel chair
       who was being pushed by a tall man with an afro
They were only shadowy figures,
       nothing more
Or, were they?
As these shadows slowly crept down the wall,
       no human forms would emerge
Being quite frightened, I flung the bedcovers over my head,
       and waited
Much to my horror, there were pairs of hands, pawing at me,
       as if they were trying to get past the covers
I was too terrified to call out to my parents,
       as I laid as still as I could
Next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes and found myself
       still beneath the sheets
Slowly, I peered out from underneath, and was met
       by the full, morning sunlight
The prying hands and dark shadows were gone,
       thank goodness!
To this very day, some thirty years later, I can still remember those frightening
       moments, as if they had just occurred
Was it a dream? Or, was I visited by some
       supernatural beings?
This, I may never truly know.

Article © Carrie A. Golden. All rights reserved.
Published on 2009-04-13

 

What about you?  What sort of theme (s) consistently shows up in your writing?

 

As a young girl, I once had an experience
that I believed was not a dream
As dawn broke, I looked down the hallway
from my bedroom;
And saw a pair of shadows moving along
the wall
It was of a man sitting in a wheel chair
who was being pushed by a tall man with an afro
They were only shadowy figures,
nothing more
Or, were they?
As these shadows slowly crept down the wall,
no human forms would emerge
Being quite frightened, I flung the bedcovers over my head,
and waited
Much to my horror, there were pairs of hands, pawing at me,
as if they were trying to get past the covers
I was too terrified to call out to my parents,
as I laid as still as I could
Next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes and found myself
still beneath the sheets
Slowly, I peered out from underneath, and was met
by the full, morning sunlight
The prying hands and dark shadows were gone,
thank goodness!
To this very day, some thirty years later, I can still remember those frightening
moments, as if they had just occurred
Was it a dream? Or, was I visited by some
supernatural beings?
This, I may never truly know.

Article © Carrie A. Golden. All rights reserved.
Published on 2009-04-13

– See more at: http://www.pikerpress.com/article.php?aID=3494#sthash.ylqRLjoJ.dpuf

 

As a young girl, I once had an experience
that I believed was not a dream
As dawn broke, I looked down the hallway
from my bedroom;
And saw a pair of shadows moving along
the wall
It was of a man sitting in a wheel chair
who was being pushed by a tall man with an afro
They were only shadowy figures,
nothing more
Or, were they?
As these shadows slowly crept down the wall,
no human forms would emerge
Being quite frightened, I flung the bedcovers over my head,
and waited
Much to my horror, there were pairs of hands, pawing at me,
as if they were trying to get past the covers
I was too terrified to call out to my parents,
as I laid as still as I could
Next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes and found myself
still beneath the sheets
Slowly, I peered out from underneath, and was met
by the full, morning sunlight
The prying hands and dark shadows were gone,
thank goodness!
To this very day, some thirty years later, I can still remember those frightening
moments, as if they had just occurred
Was it a dream? Or, was I visited by some
supernatural beings?
This, I may never truly know.

Article © Carrie A. Golden. All rights reserved.
Published on 2009-04-13

– See more at: http://www.pikerpress.com/article.php?aID=3494#sthash.ylqRLjoJ.dpuf

As a young girl, I once had an experience
that I believed was not a dream
As dawn broke, I looked down the hallway
from my bedroom;
And saw a pair of shadows moving along
the wall
It was of a man sitting in a wheel chair
who was being pushed by a tall man with an afro
They were only shadowy figures,
nothing more
Or, were they?
As these shadows slowly crept down the wall,
no human forms would emerge
Being quite frightened, I flung the bedcovers over my head,
and waited
Much to my horror, there were pairs of hands, pawing at me,
as if they were trying to get past the covers
I was too terrified to call out to my parents,
as I laid as still as I could
Next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes and found myself
still beneath the sheets
Slowly, I peered out from underneath, and was met
by the full, morning sunlight
The prying hands and dark shadows were gone,
thank goodness!
To this very day, some thirty years later, I can still remember those frightening
moments, as if they had just occurred
Was it a dream? Or, was I visited by some
supernatural beings?
This, I may never truly know.

Article © Carrie A. Golden. All rights reserved.
Published on 2009-04-13

– See more at: http://www.pikerpress.com/article.php?aID=3494#sthash.ylqRLjoJ.dpuf

As a young girl, I once had an experience
that I believed was not a dream
As dawn broke, I looked down the hallway
from my bedroom;
And saw a pair of shadows moving along
the wall
It was of a man sitting in a wheel chair
who was being pushed by a tall man with an afro
They were only shadowy figures,
nothing more
Or, were they?
As these shadows slowly crept down the wall,
no human forms would emerge
Being quite frightened, I flung the bedcovers over my head,
and waited
Much to my horror, there were pairs of hands, pawing at me,
as if they were trying to get past the covers
I was too terrified to call out to my parents,
as I laid as still as I could
Next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes and found myself
still beneath the sheets
Slowly, I peered out from underneath, and was met
by the full, morning sunlight
The prying hands and dark shadows were gone,
thank goodness!
To this very day, some thirty years later, I can still remember those frightening
moments, as if they had just occurred
Was it a dream? Or, was I visited by some
supernatural beings?
This, I may never truly know.

Article © Carrie A. Golden. All rights reserved.
Published on 2009-04-13

– See more at: http://www.pikerpress.com/article.php?aID=3494#sthash.ylqRLjoJ.dpuf