I dislocated my knee in the summer, see post. Afterwards, I tried to keep as busy as possible, aware that inactivity will make an injury like this worse. A couple of months on, I visited a physiotherapist. And this weekend, I managed to run up five flights of stairs, no problems!
On with the exercises.
Tweaking: sorting out small details in the narrative, making sure all elements of the plot agree. The process might seem simple, yet I’m finding this stage of the writing the most difficult.
Possibly, the structural or plot issues have always existed in the story but have only come to light as the writing has got better. A bit like using photo editing software to improve a photo, only to find insignificant details suddenly detracting from the main purpose of the photo (as a result of the editing, of course).
Introducing complexity in order to solve a fundamental problem in the writing might solve the initial issue but will often bring about new problems in the narrative.
What’s complexity? I would define it as creating a new plot to improve or justify an old plot. The two plots co-exist in the same story. The new plot almost competes with the old, making the structure off-balance (my opinion, anyway).
So it’s back to the computer screen and more tweaking practice.
It’s that time again. I’ve received an editorial report on one of my novels and I have more work to do, this time on certain aspects of the plot.
Tweaking plot elements to make them more convincing sometimes brings about the opposite and the changes make the story worse. I’m working with various brainstorming techniques, trying to get to the heart of the matter. Asking questions like, what do I really want here? Letting my imagination do the work. Tweaking doesn’t mean getting rid of. Just adapting ideas slightly.
On and on it goes.
Currently, learning (polishing) Liszt’s Nineteenth Hungarian Rhapsody with a view to including it on a CD project of piano music I have planned. Liszt wrote a set of nineteen Hungarian Rhapsodies, some of which are well-known – for instance, number 2 and number 12.
The Nineteenth rhapsody, written in 1885, starts with a sombre, march-like triplet motif that seems almost ambiguous at first – compare to the more defined openings of Rhapsodies nos 2 and 12. After a brief section of rapid movement, the music settles into a clear Hungarian melodic style, reminiscent of the earlier Rhapsodies. The Lassan ends. Next comes the fast section, the Friska, which eventually results in a semi-cadenza, bringing the work to a bravo!-type finish.
Can’t wait to perform or record it.