the born storytellers prendiville catholic college 2015
TRANSCRIPT
Key decisions
What is the Point of View of the narration?
What is the narrative voice of the story?
Who acts as narrator for the reader?
Subjective
Intimate
Distant
Objective
Relationship between character and reader
Point of View
Third Person
Objective
Subjective
Intimate
Distant
Objective
Relationship between character and reader
Point of View
Third Person
Objective
Third Person
Omniscient
Subjective
Intimate
Distant
Objective
Relationship between character and reader
Point of View
First Person
Third Person
Objective
Third Person
Omniscient
Subjective
Intimate
Distant
Objective
Relationship between character and reader
Point of View
First Person
Third Person
Objective
Third Person
Omniscient
Third Person
ObjectiveModified
Subjective
Intimate
Distant
Objective
Relationship between character and reader
Point of View
First Person
Third Person
Objective
Third PersonLimited
Omniscient
Third Person
Omniscient
Third Person
ObjectiveModified
Finding the Narrative voice
Choose a narrative character (limited third person or
first person), or a number of characters (limited or
omniscient third person) and allow yourself as author
to inhabit those characters, along with their attitudes
and beliefs and give effective voice to them.
More on Narrative voice
Choose the character(s) from whose position
you can best describe the full details of the
action and the most effective tone.
This is the character who is best positioned
to tell the story.
What is a scene?Three modes of writing:
Dramatic narrative(often called narrative summary or exposition)
Scene
Half-scene
What is a scene?
The scene is the building block of story. It must contain a sense of
‘staging’ . . . setting, atmosphere, mood, entrance
and exit or transition to the next scene
What is a scene?
A scene has the same shape as a story . . . It must begin at a low point of tension, rise to a point of climax and resolve
The exposition
A narrative summary or scene at the beginning of the story
setting up the story situation . . .
The exposition
1. Introduce the character
2. Establish a setting (orientate the reader)
3. Establish reader identification by
plunging the character into an emotion-
provoking situation
The exposition – dramatic narrative or summary
If Sameer Salamand looked out from the window of her room in the penthouse
apartment she shared with her father , directly before her would be the city of Perth, a
jungle of concrete and steel and glass, doubled in its shimmering flection from the
tranquil waters of the Swan River far below. Twenty kilometres to the west, Rottnest
Island sits clearly in its blue custard, an early-spring flotilla of pleasure craft carving
lines of white foam like the fine tendrils of a spider web from the harbours of Fremantle
and Sorrento. And to the east, the ridge line of the Darling Range shrouded beneath the
crusty grey hangover of expunged bushfires appears as though at eye height.
But, while she towered above, Sameer Salamand wasn’t looking out her
window.
On this fine summer morning—a Tuesday—she should have been at school. And
in her own way she was. But not the way her father wanted. He wanted her to be at a
school where, at least according to their marketing literature, they produce ladies who
will define the future: train the leaders of tomorrow. To her, though, it was full of girls
who all
felt sure they had a birthright—an entitlement to be pampered into believing
they would be the leaders of tomorrow. And sure, many will be the lawyers and
accountants and marketing executives and economists who will think they are
the leaders. They will all—perhaps mostly all—score good jobs with the big
corporates, some will even work at the same firms as their. Their successes, and
let’s face it there will be many, will all be measured in how much they earn and
how far up the power ladder their husbands will be. They will be the WAGS and
the glamourites of the social pages. Sameer knows this because, for the best
part of the few days she has attended Western Australia’s most expensive, most
exclusive, most self-serving school, she has been told by one or another of the
students she was classed with that this would be so, that such was the aspiration
of each of the forty-or-so thousand dollars a year educations being bought.
Well, not for her. No thank you.
Sameer Salamand had other ideas. Sure, she handed in her assignments,
she scored high marks—in fact, she consistently outperformed all of the other
girls in her classes. According to her first semester report, she would probably be
the Year Ten student of the year. If only she would show up once in a while.
The half-scene
It started back when Sameer was in year-seven and she began spending time in a
virtual-life game that, at the time, Uncle Neville was leading a team upgrading much
of the virtual world’s concept art. She helped test visual concepts along the way for
him, and about the time she turned twelve, she created her own identity. She was
known as Imlac and was born to a a single mother of the Uto clan, in a village called
Saka Sahata. When you sign up to Dryopsus you do not know whether you will be born
into the Uto or Dysto, nor do you know the family you will be born into, or the
circumstances of the life you will inherit. Imlac’s entire pre-teen childhood passed in a
single year and she now attended the the Institue of Learning, where one day passes
much as the previous, and much as the next will. In this college, the student does not
so much study the theories of the greats, she studies with the greats.
Aristotle, the great philosopher accompanied her her along the Peribolos, the
temple of Triptolemos rose above them on their right; they had been walking for
several minutes; this was the third turn, each turn representing a different dialectic.
She pointed
forward at the distant horizon, where the great range separated the lands of the
Utos from the Dystos, and she said, ‘Great Master, you say the the poet must depict
the men in his poem as being better or worse than real life. Is it not like imitating the
difference between what lies beyond the mountains and what lies before them?’
‘Do you know what lies beyond?’
‘I cannot say. I am here on this path and I can see good men and women
making a better world . . . men and women learning and building and leaving no one
in hunger or need. Is not this enough for depicting men, how can we depict them to
be better than this?’
‘When you turn at the end of this pass,’ Aristotle said, ‘you will consider how
it is that we can make men appear worse than they are.’
‘But I do not know better or worse.’
‘Exactly. If you do not know what something is not, you cannot possible know
what it is. So you must examine what it is not.’
Imlac watched the great philosopher walk away into the temple and she
stared at a pall of smoke rising from beyond the great range. A shiver passed
through her body as she returned along the Peribolos and a shadow formed behind
her, out of her view.
She came out of the game an hour later and called Uncle Neville. He
heard the concern in her voice before she explained the circumstances, but
he listened patiently and asked her to wait while he used a back door into the
system. What he found concerned him more than it should have, and within
minutes he was sitting in Sameer’s room. He took her back to the times she
was helping him test the landscapes and reminded her of the tunnel systems
he’d built so he could move easily between Dysto and Uto lands. There was a
grave danger, he explained as calmly as he could, that someone else has
discovered those tunnels. In short, her character was under viral attack and
they must put Imlac into suspense to ward off the attack, unmask the
attacker and destroy who ever it was.
It would take all night.
The dramatic scene
The scene presents actions as they happen,
it begins at a low point of tensions, rises to a
climax and resolves in a transition to the
next scene. Sometimes it is better to cut
right into the middle of the scene.
The dramatic scene
Sameer sat in an interview room at the Kensington police station. She had
been waiting for about three quarters of an hour by her reckoning, but
because they’d removed all of her belongings before bringing her into the
room, she had no way of really knowing. There’d been no contact, no offer of
a drink, just silence. A stocky man in jeans and a loose fitting tee shirt and
short trimmed brown hair came in and closed the door behind him. He carried
a file of papers which he put on the desk and he sat with an elegant ease,
opened the file and thumbed his way through the top sheets.
He gave a half smile as his clear green eyes met hers. ‘My name’s
Detective Graham Darcy. It says here, you’re Sameer Slamand?’
She broke the long silence that followed, and immediately knew it to
be a mistake. The first to talk is at the disadvantage. ‘Are you expecting a
response, Detective? Because that’s a statement, not a question.’
‘It’s asked as question. I want you to confirm what’s written on
PC Wilson’s arrest report.
Sameer: I don’t know what’s on her report, Detective, I can’t confirm what
I don’t know.
Darcy: I just told you. It says your name is Sameer Salamand. Can
you confirm that that is in fact your name?
Sameer: I can confirm it, Detective.
Darcy: Do you have any ID?
Sameer: No, sorry.
Darcy: And your address is 123 Palmerston Street, Mosman Park. Is
that correct?
Sameer: Yes.
Darcy: What were you doing at the back of the shopping centre tonight?
Sameer: Preventing a crime.
Darcy: Oh really? Like what … ?
Sameer: Three guys were about to break into the pharmacy through the roof.
I stopped them.
Darcy: What three guys?
Sameer: They didn’t stick around long enough for me to get their names.
Darcy: Can you described them? Like how old, hair, eyes, height … that sort
of thing?
Sameer: Yeah sure. One was about 158 centimetres, probably around
eighty five kilos, lanky, early twenties I reckon. He’s got a broken
nose. Another a bit older, I reckon … he’s limping pretty bad, shorter than the
other bloke, shaved head with a tattoo on the left side of his neck. I didn’t
really get to see the third one, he bolted.
arrest report.’
Sameer sat forward in her chair and looked across the table as she pushed
her hair away from her eyes. He was good looking, this detective and there
was something about him that made her curious. He needs to be tested. She
said, ‘I don’t know what’s in her report, Detective. I can’t confirm what I don’t
know—but, shouldn’t we have a woman in here anyway? Me being a girl and
all. And . . . not only that, shouldn’t there be a guardian or something? I am
only fifteen years old.’
Darcy looked at her, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, close
to a grin. ‘Let’s just get a few things sorted out fist, shall we. Can you confirm
that Sameer Salamand is in fact your name?’
‘I can confirm it, Detective.’
‘Do you have any ID?’
‘No, sorry. You have my phone, I’m sure you can confirm my identity
from that.’
‘You could have stolen the phone. What about a student card?’
She gave a short laugh. ‘Student card?... You’re kidding, right?’
Darcy: And your address is 123 Palmerston Street, Mosman Park. Is
that correct?
Sameer: Yes.
Darcy: What were you doing at the back of the shopping centre tonight?
Sameer: Preventing a crime.
Darcy: Oh really? Like what … ?
Sameer: Three guys were about to break into the pharmacy through the roof.
I stopped them.
Darcy: What three guys?
Sameer: They didn’t stick around long enough for me to get their names.
Darcy: Can you described them? Like how old, hair, eyes, height … that sort
of thing?
Sameer: Yeah sure. One was about 158 centimetres, probably around
eighty five kilos, lanky, early twenties I reckon. He’s got a broken
nose. Another a bit older, I reckon … he’s limping pretty bad, shorter than the
other bloke, shaved head with a tattoo on the left side of his neck. I didn’t
really get to see the third one, he bolted.
Darcy smiled and flipped a page in the file before him. ‘So. You’re
Sameer Salamand and you live at level thirty-six, South Shore Towers in
South Perth—’
‘Actually I live at level thirty seven. Level thirty-six is where my uncle
lives.’
Darcy flipped another page. ‘Okay, how many levels in that tower?’
‘Thirty eight. My dad and I have the top two floors, my uncle and his
partner live on the floor below.’
Darcy gave a low whistle. His eyes bore into her. ‘Are you aware that
the Department for Child Services has an application before the courts to
have you placed into care?’
For a moment Sameer was speechless. And when she spoke, all she
could manage was, ‘A what?. . . Who?...’ She looked down at the table and
studied her fingers. There were tears in her eyes as she looked back up at the
detective. ‘I want to see my uncle. You need to call him.’
Darcy closed the file before him and pushed his chair back. ‘He’s
already here, Sameer. He was the one who called us to the scene.’
Writing effective dialogue
Good dialogue needs:
Characters in conflict
Fresh, challenging attitudes
Indirect language
Clever, colourful lines
‘Said’ is not dead
The speech attribution tag is how we know who
speaks. However, do not try to reinvent ‘said’.
There are times when an alternative can work
better, but there are also times when a speech
tag is not required at all.
Please read technical issues for writing dialogue
Useful poetic devices as figures of speech
Personification—giving human qualities to inanimate objects. ‘My car hates me.’Hyperbole—exaggeration. ‘My car has the roar of a helitac.’Metaphor—an implied comparison of one thing to another. ‘My car tortured the bitumen.’Simile—direct comparison using as, or like. ‘My car was like a submarine.’