There was definitely a back to school vibe at the first session in Comrie since the summer break. We headed to Cultybraggan, a POW camp in the Second World War, it is well preserved and serves many 21st century purposes.
It was cool and sunny, and while we started inside the Cafe 21 hut, we soon broke out to explore for our five minute task.
Plenty of other people were wandering around, drawn to the unique site by historical interest, the businesses trading in the huts or even staying in renovated properties around the camp.
Today's theme was Show Don't Tell, an important lesson for any writer but also a tricky one, especially in isolation.
Most writing contains a mixture of rendered and related prose.
Problems can arise when the action is only told to the reader (related) as it can be dull and unengaging. However, an entirely "shown" scene (rendered) where everything is a reaction to the action can get bogged down and be confusing too.
The key is to balance the two so as to illustrate characters, engage the reader and move the plot forward.
Of course these writing sessions are primarily for everyone to enjoy themselves, to be free to explore their own creativity and maybe share and grow as writers if they wish.
I think we all struggled a little with this but everyone I wrote something and everything that was shared was really interesting and different and creative. So I was happy.
Five minute task
The low thrum of a tractor drifted over the tin huts. The wind had picked up, rustling the peeling paint on the chimney bricks as the soft chatter and clink of coffee cups spilled out of the cafe. A trailer bounced over a cattle grid and far away what sounded like a church bell...
I'd say I ran out of time, and five minutes is not long, but honestly I had no concept of where I was going, so just stopped.
Main task
Breaking away to explore I made straight for the community garden, an area of plots with sheds and raised beds full of vegetables and flowers. An outdoor nursery was exploring too.
There were some fantastic sights and I took notes to use in my story...
There were large onions drying by a shed, enormous blackberries and bolted kale.
Pea pods drying yellow on some plants while on others fresh white pea flowers were blooming.
Purple dahlias and spiky violet artichokes too.
The air was humming, buzzing with wasps and bumble bees.
So much colour and texture and smells, but ultimately as I walked further into the allotments the voices of the nursery faded and I was left alone in the garden.
I never write about myself or my own engagement with the environment in these sessions, I always invent a proxy. I write a lot in this blog about me, but the prose is always fiction, always removed from myself. So, when I find myself alone, the first thing I need to do is invent characters to engage with the subject matter.
Josie heard him crying from behind the training walls. the tufty grass seemed to cling to her flip-flopped feet as she stumbled among the obstacle course looking for him.
Ripe red apples hung heavy on the branches and she skidded over their rotting brothers while drunk wasps buzzed around her toes.
There he was, under a beautiful espalier pear tree, like something from Giverny or Versailles. He was quiet, taking a breather and she watched for a moment.
His hair was sticking to his tear wet cheeks, his yellow t-shirt had a long brownish smear on it and he was inspecting his hands, also stained with a similar colour.
He wiped his nose on his sleeve and looked over at her. She smiled and didn't move and his face contorted until a much louder wail spewed from his mouth.
She couldn't help but laugh. "Such drama," she said, as she picked him up. His little body convulsed in her arms a couple of times before finding the soft shape of her and relaxing into it.
I didn't witness anything close to this exchange, but everything else was definitely there; the training walls, Laura's flip flops, tufty grass, drunk wasps and espalier pear trees. The setting was so rich that a very little human drama felt appropriate.
I hope the elements that I tried to show rather than tell were no less obvious but a bit more interesting because I tried to render the scene; a mother loses her toddler son in a garden, it is late summer, he's had a fall etc. I have not related any of these facts, yet they are still there along with some character development and setting as an important consequence. This makes for economical yet descriptive writing, I hope.
Comments