Looking towards the Dark Side of the Moon.

When Apollo 9 landed on the moon it was hailed a momentous step forward in the achievements of mankind.

After a total of 6 landing missions, mankind gave up wondering or bothering with the shiny bit of the moon, which we can all see from our bedroom windows on a clear night.

They did, however, fly around the dark side of the moon.

The story of Apollo 13 is a well told one, but mostly focuses on the amazing courage and inventiveness of the astronauts and the ground support, getting them back to earth safely.

Officially, the dark side of the moon has more craters. Conspiracy theorists claim, unofficially, that built structures were spotted and possibly a crashed spacecraft.

As creatives we are familiar with the shiny side of the ‘moon’ – a familiar story or an image or a piece of music. Many creatives are excellent at reproducing the shiny side and many people enjoy engaging with it.

The creative works which stop us in our tracks, or which we chase in our own work, is likely to be towards the dark side of the moon. The sense of the unknown. The searching to discover. The possibility of something ‘other’.

As symbols we are used to light signifying good and dark being bad, but have you seen the night sky well away from town and city lights? Hundreds of thousands of stars suddenly become visible. They offer us an alternative view of the heavens above.

The dark side of the moon acts in a similar way.

Some creatives pursue this side with more energy than others. It can be a blessing or a curse, perhaps.

The secret in this maybe then, is to always be trying to look past what is plain or obvious to see, and search past and into the shadows for what might be there.

Offer your readers, or viewers, or listeners, a glimpse of what could possibly be.

Day 465 – Revisiting Ray Bradbury’s ‘Fahrenheit 451’.

If you have read any of my other posts then you already know that I am a fan of Podcasts and Audiobooks. Today, I revisited one of my favourite Ray Bradbury novels in F451, with a great audio version narrated by Tim Robbins.

One of the many things which struck me this time around was just how quickly Bradbury gets the story moving.

After a quick page or so of describing the Fireman Guy Montag doing his job and returning to the Fire Station we – along with the protagonist – are confronted with Clarisse McClellan.

I wondered if this was where Thomas Harris got his inspiration for Clarice Starling in The Silence of the Lambs. I also couldn’t shift the image of Julie Christie as Clarisse in Truffaut’s cinematic version from 1966.

Back to the novel and Clarisse starts to question Guy Montag and his profession as a Fireman, musing on the possibility that Firemen used to put out fires not start them.

Bradbury moves so fast here. How did she pick him out? Was she waiting for him? What made her think that he was different? The strong opening imagery of Montag now confronted with an alternative possibility takes just six pages.

Montag returns home to find his wife has attempted suicide and we become aware that his life, and the life of the society we have been dropped into, is not positive or healthy. Like Hamlet we realise that something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

Is Montag mad? Suffering from a disease spread by the very things he burns? Or like Hamlet, is he the only sane person in a cast of the mad or those who do not even realise they are just as trapped as he is?

Within fourteen pages, pretty much everything is set for the rest of the story.

Within twenty-three pages we have met the Mechanical Hound, which Montag is convinced doesn’t like him, and Captain Beatty, who we don’t trust the moment he explains that the Hound doesn’t think anything that ‘they’ don’t want it to.

Genius.

Main character. Catalyst character asking questions. Difficult home life/relationship. What will pursue the Main character. The Antagonist.

Then let the story play out . . .

Day 444 – A Sense of Place.

I’ve been listening to a BBC Radio documentary on The Pennine Way.

It is a national trail which runs for 268 miles through England and up into Scotland, and the hills over which it runs is often called the ‘backbone’ of England.

The documentary describes the places and the people along it, the music, songs, and poetry which it inspires, the history and the culture of its length.

Many creatives are both inspired and captivated by what is right there on their doorstep.

Which places and people, history and culture, inspires you and how does it inspire and direct your creative output?

Day 443 – Embracing the Void.

I’ve just read a great article by Gwenna Laithland advising writers to use ‘white noise’.

Basically, white noise is the void – the bits you leave out which the reader then projects their own thoughts and imagination onto.

Laithland uses the example of a Harry Potter stage show casting Hermione Grainger with a black actress. J.K. Rowling admits that she never specified her heroine’s skin colour.

I often get caught up in feeling the need to give more detail in description and narration – partly because I write dialogue much more easily and my pages can quickly resemble a play script.

I like writers at both ends of the spectrum. The very precise and detailed, and the void.

So which is best?

I suppose the answer is write with detail when you need to manouveur the reader into a specific place and embrace the void where it really doesn’t matter.

I am still working on this.

Day 432 – Dark-side of the Moon.

This isn’t an inspired by Pink Floyd post – not that I have anything against the band.

The anniversary of the lunar landings let people know what was on the side we all can gaze out of our windows and see.

Sure, it took a lot of effort to get there, but very quickly we kind of knew what we didn’t know before.

So then people started to wonder what was on the other side – the dark side.

It is a metaphor that’s been there in creative arts forever.

So what’s on the other side of the ideas you’ve been working on recently?

Day 391 – What’s In The Box?

In a TED talk, J.J. Abrams talks about the mystery of the box.

He explains how he was interested in magic tricks as a younger boy and once bought a box for $15 which was supposed to have tricks worth $50 in it.

Here’s the thing – he never opened the box.

To him the mystery of what was in the box was more powerful than actually finding out if the value of what was inside was worth more or less than he had paid for it.

The mystery of what might be in the box was what was valuable.

I think creatives can think the same way.

Our talent is in the box.

If it stays closed then we can neither be disappointed or elated.

Elation is a risky business. It might only be short lived and therefore better saved.

We naturally feel better if our disappointment is figured but never confirmed.

But unless we open the box we can never use what is inside and using what is inside is where the real value is at.