“I gotta keep my Capricorn mind straight,” said the planet of Saturn to the writer writing this post.  Okay, so that first sentence had a weird third person shift–almost like a third person shift to a different third person gear, but the first third person perspective was oddly different from the latter, which was equally bizarre but uniquely awkward.  See what I mean?  I do need to keep this Capricorn mind straight.  Saturn was right.

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I don’t denounce structuralism.  Every time I watch a Disney or Pixar movie with my daughters and tears start welling up in my eyes by simple structural tactics, like music and camera angles, I’m reminded there is a reason it works.  But I’m a literary writer and we are defiant bastards and we like to take structuralism and bend it our will.  So we can look in the mirror and say to ourselves, “The industry will not make me a slave.”

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So what do you do when a character is powerless?  The first thing I tend to do when I’m looking to solve problems in my storylines is to turn to my immediate surroundings.  For some reason, and I’m not sure where I got this from (possibly through reflection in the early mornings as I sip my coffee), I started to realize or assume or maybe just consider that all dynamics of story or narratives are in constant mimesis, so…if there is something missing in my story or novel (as is the case now) I start to look for signs and solutions in my daily interactions—in my immediate.  I believe I’ll see the same thing, conceptually, happen at some point in the day if I just pay attention.

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Like angels and devils breading hordes of bastard monstrosities, the impetus for the type of stories I like to write comes out of the comingling of two polar opposite ideologies.  One is quite happy frolicking with idealism and innocence, while the other takes great pleasure in torturing countless victims.  Together they make for unpleasant friends.  The type to cater to your highest morals and simultaneously use those morals to bash you into the dirt.

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“How many lives do you think you have lived?” someone asked me, and I responded “In this lifetime, I’m on seven.”  I’m sure she meant previous lives, as in reincarnation in its literal meaning, but if you’re going to have a conversation with an artist you have to understand our minds work in symbols.  I’m going to speak metaphorically before I speak literally.  It makes more sense to do so when you consider the multifarious dynamics in life.  Everything is fluid, ever changing, like narratives and lifetimes and phases, making for a rollercoaster ride in the dark.

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I’ve been revising chapter five in my novel for about two months now.  On the second draft and I was moving along quite nicely until I hit chapter five.  There was something about the chapter that wasn’t gelling.  The previous four ran smooth and there was a dynamic quality that forced the chapters to more or less revise themselves.  The plot and the character development coincided well with each other.  Then chapter five hit me like owl shit hitting a windshield.

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