tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post3001523285648770871..comments2023-11-05T05:01:58.563-05:00Comments on Ward Six: The dead pageUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post-46530572346831447002009-05-18T11:38:00.000-05:002009-05-18T11:38:00.000-05:00Your last paragraph is *very* quotable. Now you ju...Your last paragraph is *very* quotable. Now you just have to get famous and then we'll see it on those sites dedicated to profound quotations.Matthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12235525041894772335noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post-24240958539616263172009-05-15T18:59:00.000-05:002009-05-15T18:59:00.000-05:00ernesto suggests "the magician's pretty assistant"...ernesto suggests "the magician's pretty assistant" for times like these. Boring sentences with something weird thrown in throughout.Louishttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17233468963763502499noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post-23565761040327935722009-05-15T09:30:00.000-05:002009-05-15T09:30:00.000-05:00jon, that little equation is awesome.
And Rhian, ...jon, that little equation is awesome.<br /><br />And Rhian, I think you are quite right...Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post-22652254937189444042009-05-15T09:14:00.000-05:002009-05-15T09:14:00.000-05:00The novel seems to be one of those things that res...The novel seems to be one of those things that resembles a person. We hate perfect people. The perfect person is the person who is a perfect sum of all his or her imperfections.jonhttp://lastbender.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post-6467154084999137422009-05-14T15:59:00.000-05:002009-05-14T15:59:00.000-05:00Okay, man, I'm going to disagree with your experie...Okay, man, I'm going to disagree with your experience. I don't think it was that page that turned you off the book -- I think it was that page that made you realize the book you were reading wasn't the book you *thought* you were reading.<br /><br />It's like when you have a friend who is a sociopath. For a long time you ignore the little signs, because there are things you like about her -- interesting things! But then one day she goes off on how much she enjoys embezzling from her job, and you think --- wait, who is this?<br /><br />In other words, I don't think the problem you experience in reading as the same as the one in writing. I would bet money that the author of the book you were reading would not recognize that as a dead page. For him, it's probably just a pause before he ramps up the book for the ending. For you, it's when you realize you don't want to go there.<br /><br />My own (limited) experience has lead me to believe that what I find dead in my own work is more or less invisible to the reader, and what they find dead is not so to me.rmellishttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03133206908895131438noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post-35841304501286714162009-05-14T15:06:00.000-05:002009-05-14T15:06:00.000-05:00Let's say, perhaps, that the perfect novel--from a...Let's say, perhaps, that the perfect novel--from a writer's perspecive--is a novel which, in its creation, never once presents the writers with a dead page situation.<br /><br />Let us also say that it can't exist. Probably.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post-37000386598550859322009-05-14T14:39:00.000-05:002009-05-14T14:39:00.000-05:00Re: The Dead Page. Remember The Iliad?
it's the ca...Re: The Dead Page. Remember The Iliad?<br />it's the catalogue of ships problem. I guess it comes down to genre. In some books you would have plowed ahead, despite the dead page. But in a mystery, it was a cold shower. The guy violated the up-front terms of the narrative. <br />I'm not sure, as a writer, what I do about the dead page. Sometimes it still seems necessary, and its death grip can only be blunted, or eased, by going back in the narrative and tweaking. <br />And then there is the question of judgment. In one book i wrote a chapter i was sure was dead exposition, and was very depressed about it, yet a lot of readers liked the character of the dead page, and his page of death. Sometimes as a writer I can be afraid of the reader's boredom and deny him detail that she might want. <br />In the case of information the reader has already gotten, and a necessary scene of repetition, I suppose the solution lies in character. The way the character distorts the retelling, the slight differences between scenes, might suggest strange desires, unknown motives, disconnections that would intrigue or disturb the reader.jonhttp://lastbender.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post-23188747389532915802009-05-14T14:20:00.000-05:002009-05-14T14:20:00.000-05:00http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/features/2009/05/...http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/features/2009/05/11/090511fi_fiction_ballard?currentPage=1<br /><br />Warning! Non sequitur comment to follow.<br /><br />This month’s short story by J.G. Ballard in the New Yorker was strange. It could have been an interesting retell of Glavinic’s Nightwork, surprise! it wasn’t. <br /><br />It’s the story of a dude (just a dude, not too much in the way of character exposition) who wakes up in London and everyone and everything is gone…except, inexplicably, the birds. He neatly and quietly collects provisions for the winter and settles down into his new life (too neatly, too quietly). It all happens in a page. Wha?? I’m all for short-shorts, but I like them to have a punch. Knock the breath out of me kind of stories. Character sketches are great, but there wasn’t any of that here. Did I miss the larger allegory, the more perfect moral?bigscarygiraffehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16806095510307166962noreply@blogger.com