Esej 4 - Úryvek z workshopáckého dopisu
(workshopu se zúčastnili i autoři delších textů, někdy i celých románů; jejich práce jsem samozřejmě na webu neuveřejňoval, ani jsem je podrobně neanalyzoval, pouze jsme si o nich povídali)
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Jaký je hrdina na začátku? V čem je dobrý, skvělý? má nějaké slabosti?
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Proč se vůbec stává hrdinou? Hlavní postavou? Proč sakra leze do té pitomé jeskyně plné nástrah a nebezpečí, když šance na získání pokladu, princezny atd je mizivá?
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V průběhu děje: Proč by sakra měl udělat právě to, co já chci? Nezabalil by to raději? Neodkrágloval by tam toho chlapíka, vzal si jeho dceru, která na něm může oči nechat a spokojeně pak žil až do smrti?
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Jak ho mění to, co právě prožívá?
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A na konci: Jaký je teď? Jak se odlišuje od maníka, který na začátku do řeky událostí skočil?
Komentáře
Workshop
Co to bylo za workshop? Jaký máš, Mirku, názor na učení se psaní? Jak ses psát naučil ty? Bylo to vytrvalým sázením slov na papír a čtením lepších autorů nebo jsi na svojí "cestě" četl i nějaké poučky a návody, jak na věc?
Máte rádi skutečný spisovatel
Máte rádi skutečný spisovatel používat inspiraci, ne obvyklá sada populárních triků pro něj a já jsem rád svůj blog
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And he could glance at her continually as she bent over the fruit, while the level evening sunbeams stole through the thick apple-tree boughs and rested on her round cheek and neck as if they too were in love with her. ~George Eliot, Adam Bede And let me burrow my head in your shoulder.... And love for the friends I have had! And love for the trees and the flowers... And love in your heart And meditate mostly on love!... And she, who years beyond fifteen, and the calm song of your voice, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. And there's no moon above. And threading the eye of a yellow star: - And trembles then, lest it has done too little. And what's romance? Usually, a nice little tale where you have everything as you like it, where rain never wets your jacket and gnats never bite your nose, and it's always daisy-time. ~D.H. Lawrence
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All love is probationary, a fact which frightens women and exhilarates men. ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic's Notebook, 1966 Although love may be planted in the lowest places, its foliage and fruits may reach to the skies. ~James Lendall Basford (1845–1915), Sparks from the Philosopher's Stone, 1882 An old man in love is like a flower in winter. ~Portuguese Proverb And he could glance at her continually as she bent over the fruit, while the level evening sunbeams stole through the thick apple-tree boughs and rested on her round cheek and neck as if they too were in love with her. ~George Eliot, Adam Bede And let me burrow my head in your shoulder.... And love fo
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r the friends I have had! And love for the trees and the flowers... And love in your heart And meditate mostly on love!... And she, who years beyond fifteen, and the calm song of your voice, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. And there's no moon above. And threading the eye of a yellow star: - And trembles then, lest it has done too little. And what's romance? Usually, a nice little tale where you have everything as you like it, where rain never wets your jacket and gnats never bite your nose, and it's always daisy-time. ~D.H. Lawrence Anyone can be passionate, but it takes real lovers to be silly. ~Rose Franken Anyone can catch your eye, but it takes someone special to catch your heart. ~Author Unknown Are forever lost in love, Are you a man, Octave? Do you see the leaves falling from the trees, the sun rising and setting? Do you hear the ticking of the clock of time with each pulsation of your heart? Is there, then, such a difference between the love of a year and the love of an hour? I challenge you to answer that, you fool, as you sit there looking out at the infinite through a window not larger than your hand. ~Alfred de Musset, The Confession of a Child of the Century/La Confession d'un enfant du siècle, 1836, Desgenais to Octave, translated from French by Kendall Warren
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