What? I don’t have time for that! What do you think I do all day? Think of words that have flavours that complement by rhyme? That sound the same?
Oh, of course I do, but not for rhyme. Each word I use, I check to see if it has been used before, close to this one, too close for comfort. And if it’s not quite the right word, I go off and find a word that means more closely what I want it to mean.
I play with words all day – all bloody day – and sometimes, they give me words that don’t quite fit the right way.
I supposed that’s why people play with rhyme. To find a way to fit the story to what they want it to mean, but to also play enough that other people (the magic Reader) will enjoy the lyrical aspect, as well as the depth, of the telling.
Rhyme. I don’t look for it, but I do look for and respond to ‘presence’ – a word in a sentence must say something, be something, more than the words themselves. They must dance a hidden tune, sing an unheard song – they must be more than what they appear to be on the surface.
The surface is the mask, and the real story, the subtext, lies under the visible words. It is there, a different world, that needs very specific words within the sentence, laid out in a pattern that can be recognised and cause a reaction – inner and outer – in the one who reads it.
Can that be possible? All the words I’ve ever read mean more than what they say?
Of course. That’s the way it is.
Do people always say exactly what they mean?
If you said ‘yes’ I think you need to go back and truly listen, without adding your own interpretation to the words. Listen and hear only what is said, take no notice of how your mind spins some form of meaning to the things that aren’t there.
It worked, didn’t it? You found the gaps where you put meaning into their conversation. You filled them in with your own subtext.
What if you were wrong?
And therein lies the rub. We know that sometimes we miss the message and we have to ask: “What?” Other times, we go on, blindly it seems, sure in our understanding – until they come back to us and say “Didn’t you hear what I said?” There’s usually a growly sort of “For crying out loud,” that follows that sort of statement.
So, do your words (story and ITRW) say all that you mean, or do you, too, play the game of subtext?
Update of current works:
Equine – in second-form-editing (developmental) – needs a bit more time;
Ghost – in first-form-editing (structural) – with the third eye person;
Agoness – in progress – first Act complete.
Were there any others? Karel? Got something, mate? Come back to us …