Big Shots in English: 2014

When I started college, I had no formal way of learning technique.

Professors rarely voiced what technique was and why would a professor write technique concepts down for you--their techniques, their tools were their secrets--the things they had learned through study--information is power.

And information about writing can be gained simply by studying--the same rule applies to making films.

Those who really want it can find it. Imagine if you asked a student to put together a five page essay. The subject would be immaterial, and most students would falter on the layout, and very few would study another essay to get an idea--this is where the term teaching by example comes in.

In order to write well, you must study writers and to write great you must read great writers.

By reading you study technique. Through this process, you learn how to do many things, including writing better sentences, writing sentences with techniques in them, such as listing, linking, juxtaposing and creating metaphor.

Ask any high school student if they can make the connection between reading and writing.

Ask them if they will read given there will be no test on what they read. Will a student read it with no reward, with no guarantee their grade will change in anyway? (Which usually means they want a guarantee their hard work or any work will receive acknowledgement or an award? I think most students know the answer.)

The answer is no.

The idea is pretty simple--you read other writers and what eventually happens is the more you read, the more their habits and style rub off on your work, and those things change your own work.

This process is far from immediate--if fact it is a gradual process that comes from diligence and hard work.

And why should today's students do any of that?

What would they gain from something that comes at a slow pace when they would rather have it quick and fast--immediate and easy.

My teachers, who became my mentors were trying to teach me this when I was a student, and I try to teach it to my students now.

Indeed, the rule of college is that teachers present a lot of information but at some point, the teacher does in fact go away. (They die. They Retire. They move to Vermont. They give up teaching.)

The ambitious student continues his learning after each teacher's class. The system is designed for the student to move on without the teacher and (possibly) eventually surpass them.

As to whether I surpassed my own teachers is something I will question most of my life as I believe I hold my own place in knowledge with them--and summarily, a student must also one day believe this himself, just as I hope my own students will one day believe they hold their own---and move on without me, given they now have the tools.

And that is one of the best parts of teaching.

Few teachers write down their precious techniques because they can be gained through study.

Students must study, the root of the word is inherent in their title. And if they cannot learn this, there should be no easy path.

With my rules, there is also no easy path--having the rules is one thing--using them is completely another. When Orson Welles made Citizen Kane, before he shot a single frame, he sat in the RKO Studio screening room and studied as many films as possible, probably if I know Orson Welles, every film made or available at RKO at the time. There were no books on film-making as there are today, and there is no substitute for actual hands-on-work.

Orson Welles was a master at studying and doing his homework--he was a brilliant showman and artist and if you look at his films, and his performances, whether behind the camera or in front of it, he was a perfectionist in every level on every piece of art he created.

He even stole from others. Yes, he stole. You can learn about this by watching an excellent film, "Me and Orson Welles," but you can also watch his movies and see what he stole.

And stealing, not actual physical theft, is a hallmark of writers and film makers.

Today we call such theft "homage," but it is everywhere and in every film we watch, and there are even a few clever filmmakers who do homage to other filmmakers with the strict intent of showing off what they know.

In literature we call this technique, "Pastiche," which means, "Using forms and styles from another author, generally as an affectionate tribute, such as the many stories featuring Sherlock Holmes not written by Arthur Conan Doyle, or much of the Cthulhu Mythos" (Wikipedia).

Most recently Quintin Tarrantino used several examples of "Pastiche" in his film "Inglorious Bastards," as well as paying massive homage to Alfred Hitchcock.

The problem is that most students aren't inherently looking or seeing what they are looking at. This "seeing" has become the distinct realms of the academic, and the filmmaker, the intellectual, the salesman, the artistic person and the pick-up artist.

The only way to improve is to study, to improve, and every athlete in the world knows this--every businessman, every salesman, and most children. Practice makes perfect.

So, to make it perfect, we introduce a set of rules. As I said, when I entered school, there was no official write up for technique--and no fast quick rules. That is how it should be, but over the years, I started to notice that certain television shows, certain books were effective and even enjoyable because they had glimpses of technique. So, like great artists before me, I am going to steal something from a prime time television show.

The television show NCIS has an effective technique used on the show, called GIBB's Rules. These rules pop up in the show all the time, and are kind of like an Easter Egg, but the great thing about these rules is they are the law of that show--the show works because the characters follow those rules. Here is a list of Gibb's Rules.

Every time Jethro Leroy Gibb's uses a rule it has relevance. He lives by these rules, and summarily he is an effective "detective" because of his rules.

As a credit to my first teacher, Stephen Gardner, who told me only to read, I found that through reading, a few rules simply rubbed off on me. The techniques that were found in the books I read and selections simply moved into my own repertoire, and I was forced to name a few myself.

The first I invented, was called the "Rollback." The "Rollback" was a technique I noted in poetry, where something introduced in the beginning of the poem is returned to at the end of the poem, the most famous I could identify was Wallace Stephen's "wakened Birds." Which are mentioned in Stanza 4 of "Sunday Morning," and return in the last lines of Stanza 8.

In fact, they become pigeons and the flocks of pigeons are returned to at the end of the poem.

Though Wallace Stephens never voiced his technique, I named it, stole it and emulated it in my own work. Here is "Sunday Morning" by Wallace Stephens." There are several Rollbacks in the poem, but the last "rollback" is the birds. And that is a clear example of how one learns technique--one studies.

Over the years, I learned a few more, such as a poem is like opening a door of a house, and entering and then leaving at the end, often in the same way you entered or by the same means. That's the essence of the "Rollback."

Lord Byron stated that great poems almost have what he considered the sound of a snap at the end of it, like a door closing, like a final click at the end, as Stephen said, "Like a book Closing," or a "Door locking." When he described that to me, I could see the magic in his eyes, the sparkle and his love of poetry, and so when I read any poems I looked for the click, and I saw it often in Stephen's Poems.

My mentor Stephen Gardner, who did teach me a "secret technique" that I treasured and saw in a couple of his own poems, literally has a snap, or a click, such as in "2 a.m., Incense and my Dog with a Bone" for Jim Peterson. He was a master at using that technique.

In one of my own poems, I tried to literally turn a key in a lock, and perhaps one day, I will share that poem, or perhaps it will be published.

But as you might understand, many of these techniques are theory, and learning them is simply a matter of study. They have many names, and even I have changed some of their names. Wikipedia has a list of techniques, with names, some of which you will see here in pretty technical terms.

There are numerous books on theory, for both fiction and poetry and scholars devote years to those books, each presenting his own theory of narrative, or using examples.

These techniques have followed me all my life, and now I've tried to introduce them for those who would learn. Each of these has its own name, but I have tried to voice them in the way Gibbs would--little phrases that can be summed up in a sentence, but carry a lot more weight in actual execution.

In truth, I must, however, give credit where it is due. These techniques come from my mentors, and my rules are their rules, sometimes even their very words. Plagiarizing their work is not my intent, and I state this with certainly everyone of these rules can be learned by reading them, studying and reading literature in general--every one.

(Each of these is from the teachings of Frederick Turner, Adrienne McLean. Robert Nelsen, Stephen Gardner, John Wood and Robert Olen Butler. Robert Olen Butler's book From Where You Dream by Janet Burroway--I have simply put them in a simplified form to be used similar to Gibb's Law on "NCIS."

Rules

1. Do not start sentences with “I.”

Try not to use I in academic writing.
Make yourself secondary to larger ideas, events and information. Example: Bad: I enjoy eating cookies with my Grandmother. Good. My grandmother makes maple, brown sugar cookies every Christmas, and we often sit together and talk about school because she lives so far away from where I go to college. (Notice in the second sentence that you are part of the writing, but you do not immediately become the entire focal point. The second sentence is a much deeper sentence and you don’t dominate the subject.)

When you are writing Academic Papers you should not use the I at all. If you are doing personal writing it is okay to use the I but you should try to bury it. You should avoid starting sentences with it. Any grade school child can start a sentence with an I. Try to write sentences where the I is not the first word in the sentence. Notice the way James Joyce uses the I.

THERE was no hope for him this time: it was the third stroke. Night after night I had passed the house (it was vacation time) and studied the lighted square of window: and night after night I had found it lighted in the same way, faintly and evenly. If he was dead, I thought, I would see the reflection of candles on the darkened blind for I knew that two candles must be set at the head of a corpse. He had often said to me: "I am not long for this world," and I had thought his words idle. Now I knew they were true. Every night as I gazed up at the window I said softly to myself the word paralysis. It had always sounded strangely in my ears, like the word gnomon in the Euclid and the word simony in the Catechism. But now it sounded to me like the name of some maleficent and sinful being. It filled me with fear, and yet I longed to be nearer to it and to look upon its deadly work.

You should notice the only time he starts a sentence with I is Dialogue.

2. Remove the word “Not” from your sentences.(Find the opposite of what the not is. My father was not a good man=My father used to beat my mother.)

3. Write with the Senses to add detail.
(Remember we are Sensual Writers.)Most sentences already use Sight and Sound. Try using Smell, Taste and Touch as needed. (Butler 11). Most Importantly do not use these words when describing senses.
1. Touch
2. Taste
3. Feel
4. Smell
5. Heard
6. Sound
7. See

As the rule goes, never touch a touch, never taste a taste, never smell a smell and never hear a sound. Simply describe the effect--that is enough. Describe the act of eating without using the word taste.

Describe the act of smelling, or have a person affected by the smell, but do not use the word "smell."

There are plenty of words you can use. Describe the actions of touch without using the word "touch."

Example: Brian moved his palm along the side of the Lamborgini which had been polished to a luminous shine. The scent of lemons and fresh leather pulled at him from the interior of the car. Those lemons lingered in his mind as his mouth watered, literally watered from that smell as the man in front him moved his hand over the soft panels interior, pressing and poking the car with his filthy, greasy fingers. The horn blared twice as he pressed against the steering wheel, and the loud blare forcibly moved Brian back and away from the front of the car.,

4. Never Name Emotions:
There are 5 ways to show emotions. (Use all five in several sentences to accurately show emotions.) Reactions inside the body. Reactions outside the Body. Flashes of the Past. Flashes of the Future. Sensual Selectivity. (Butler 14-15).

When I say, never name emotions, I literally mean try to never use these words:
Happy
Sad
Nervous
Angry
Pissed
Bitter
Overjoyed
Filled with Joy
Frightened
Scared.
Embarrassed

Each of these is easily written, so you must try to show how these emotions are in effect without naming them. You will do this by describing these things:

First, start with what is going on inside your body:

Examples of Reactions inside the body
Heart rate increase or slow down. (Happiness, sadness, anger and fear all have a heart rate increase.)
(When a person is calm or at ease their heart rate is normal.)

Stomach Turning. (Nervousness or anger and Disgust usually have some stomach issues.)

Internal Pain or lack of pain (Parts of your body inside or drop pain when a person is in a certain mood.)

Pain in parts of body. (Specific Parts of the body can react to your emotion.)

Each of these are specific to emotions, so you should choose wisely.

Lost of equilibrium
Legs buckling
Blurred Vision
Temperature Increase
Staggered breathing
Dry Mouth
Excessive saliva
Acid Reflux
Vomiting or excessive bile
Stomach Pains.

Reactions Outside the Body are easy and the actions are often dictated by the way you feel. These are shown through many ways--the simplest is tears though the way a person treats things around him often reveals his or her emotion. Reckless actions often reflect anger.

Flashes of the past are descriptive memories often connected to the emotion a person feels--for example in example 2 I frequently have memories of my father whose death is the primary reason for my sadness. I have bolded a few places below to show you flashes of the past.

Flashes of the Future are also descriptive examples that are connected to emotion--these are primarily things that have not happened and that could happen. These probably will not happen they are driven by the emotion you feel--they are frequently pushed by irrational fear or irrational hope. In the examples below I imagine my father alive, or I imagine that my girlfriend will give me a second chance--in both instances neither happens. Flashes of the Future should be inserted to show the severity and strength of your emotion--they are connected and driven by emotions.

Lastly, Sensual Selectivity: Through out the examples below my senses are engaged and hyper aware. These brief glimpsings are also driven by emotion--they are enhanced by the type of the emotion. For Example: I can smell gas when I try t emerge from my car. In example to I dislike seeing the doctor or his mustache--I am irritated by the use of the doctor's word "son" and the pen he gives me to fill out the hospital forms. My legs are stuck in the first example and the woman screaming is magnified 200 percent.My girlfriend slapping me is strong, but it also is enhanced by what I'm feeling.

Colored Example:

Reactions inside the body.

Reactions outside the Body.

Flashes of the Past.

Flashes of the Future.

Sensual Selectivity.

As Hallie’s car rounded the corner and drove away from the café, I turned my eyes back to the letter and began to breath heavily—my breath came in quick staccato motions and continued for a while. The letter was rough against my hand so, I put it down then, picked it back up, then put if down again and then I grabbed it and tore it up. She was gone, like always and too much of coward to tell me to my face and I realized she did this a lot—she always passed the buck or would never tell me. “You should know when you’ve done something wrong,” she would say, a smug sense of satisfaction on her face—“You okay mister?” the waitress said. The pieces of her letter littered the table and I paused, “Yeah, I mean we’ll iron this out right?”

The waitress said, “Iron what out?”

Hallie would get over this--She’d calm down in a few days—and we’d be okay again, I thought. The strange scent of her coffee seemed to lift from the cup she had left on the table, but I it moved over everything—like a stain that centered all on me, but I was the only one who knew it

Example:

The car stopped rolling and ground to a stop. The insides of my body bent inward on themselves, and after that I let out a scream--a small amount of blood hung off the end of my lip, then I threw up all over what was left of my car. “Hello! Hello!” I started yelling and waving my hands. “I’m in the car! I can’t feel my legs.” For a moment I lost it and I heard my father say, “Remain calm in an accident.” He stood over me and checked my seat belt. “Always put this on.”

My father’s face faded, and a man with a long beard and a hat that read, “Legalize it.” Looked through the window… “You okay?”

“thank god you’re there.” I said holding my forehead, “God the damage, look at it.” All I could see were bills and more bills.

“Don’t think about the damage, okay, you’re alive.”

“Yes, but my leg is tight and I think that’s gas, is gas coming out of my engine?” I blurted out,

All around me people were screaming—a woman was yelling, “I saw it. I saw it, I’m a witness!”

Then things went blurry—my eyes practically closed themselves to the shrieking wail of an ambulance siren. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a gurney, inside an ambulance watching my car disappear behind us.

Example 2

After a moment, I took a step and my legs became absolutely worthless. They buckled under me like elastic. In order to brace myself, I placed my hand on the nearest counter. My mouth was dry for a moment and I turned my head, slowly, as if the air was already pushing against my speech, “I think you might be mistaken,” was what I wanted to say but across from me my mother was standing by the doctor so I knew this was true. “I won’t always be around,” he said to me and smiled, “But when I do leave this planet I trust you will know what do.”

My father was sitting in his office when he said this, stacks of papers, insurance and medical bills and a large file of folders marked in black ink was labeled, “Will and Trust.”

“Trust me,” he said and his eyes met mine. “Sometimes Father’s die. But that’s the way life is. You’re going to be okay son,” He said and looked at me for a second and then his face was replaced by the doctor’s face who had some kind of stupid moustache, “I’m so sorry son,” came out of his mouth and when he said that I glared at him for a moment and thought that the sound of the EKG machine beeping steadily and the idea I had the image of my father, behind the man whispering into his ear, saying “He’s not your son.”

“Are you okay? Son?” The doctor said again.

“Yeah, I….” but as I spoke I only wanted for the clipboard he was holding to be wrong to be another person, with my initials, my father’s initials and for him to be wrong and my father was alive somewhere in this hell bent, broken hospital. He talked some more, slowly looking, keeping eye contact, but I couldn’t look at him, almost immediately every word was gone so all that came through was “quick” or “mercy” or “no suffering” or even, “His heart” and “too weak.” My mother’s eyes began to form tears, and when looked at her tears formed in my own eyes

The doctor placed his clipboard on the nearby counter and took out a pen. “There’s a few things I need you, or your mother to sign.” He motioned toward me with the pen, a small grungy looking pen, and all I could think about was that I was going to be signing the hospital forms of my father’s life with a cheap, common plastic pen

“Here,“ the doctor said again, pointing to a spot to sign, and he motioned the pen towards me, and I reached for the pen and my father looked at me. “This is where I keep the will. I need you to sign this form that places most everything I have in you and your mother’s name.” He looked at me. “It’s okay,” he said and when I took the pen the doctor said, “Are you okay?”

In the brief calm my heart began to beat less and less, almost slowing as a nearby EKG machine beeped, then beeped then became one long beep, and down the corridor, two nurses closed the curtains in a room where someone else had also moved on.

****

Example 3

My stomach turned inward like a thin string had been tightened and a large knot was playing havoc with my intestines. There was a large thumping in my chest, like my heart was pushing against my ribcage trying to beat its way out. When she turned to look at me, I moved my hand for a second, then turned it to my belly, as if to hold my guts in.

As I leaned, I placed both feet as firmly as I could one the ground and lowered my head.

I thought about the time she had first smiled at me, and told me, “You are the only man for me.” That was the moment I had thought we would be married, and how when I looked into her eyes, I had seen her as the mother of my children. That moment faded, and I was still standing in front of her, my legs braced to the floor—her eyes hardened, “I said I want you gone.” I hoped for a moment she would say, “I’m gonna give you a second chance,” or “ I can’t break up with you,” but her hand turned in front of me like she was reaching for me, as if she would touch my face like she used to but that ended abruptly with a quick and decisive strike to the side of my face, “Get out.” The side of my face stung for a moment and I turned to leave, and when I did I caught the scent of her perfume and knew that I would never think of it the same way again.

5. In College Every sentence has a minimum of 8 words in it.
Any sentence shorter than eight words usually shows the mark of a young, inexperienced writer. In the case where "brevity" is used, you will have to study writers who use brevity.

If you have a problem with this rule make sure you use a coordinating conjunction in your sentences which forces you to write the sentence longer.

6. Avoid using contractions--use them only in dialogue.

Never in Academic Writing
These are contractions: I'm, he's, they're, you've, I've, coundn't, shouldn't, wouldn't, can't, don't, etc. These should only be used in dialogue. They should never be used in normal exposition.

Here is a list of contractions.

https://www.sjsu.edu/writingcenter/docs/handouts/Contractions.pdf

Rules: The Five Fatal Flaws
7. Avoid explaining everything to the reader.
(Interpretation and Analysis.) Allow the reader to judge things they read for themselves. (You have to be conscious of why you give the reader an image, but it is not your job to explain the image. Try and know inside why you have given the image.

Try deeply to provide enough information that hints at what you want the reader to know.

It is the Reader's job to study your images, and to try and understand why you have used them. If the reader is unwilling to try, then they shouldn't read, there are lots of other things they can do, and their lives shall be lesser for it.

Reading is an active thing that requires intelligence and it also requires the reader to interpret what he sees and to analyze it.

Example: When you look at a wallet, you show the person has one dollar bill and the wallet is old and full of business cards. The reader should use interpretation that the character has little or no money, or at least little or no credit. An active reader will look for these clues. You are not required to immediately say, “Tom was always broke.” That is interpretation. The reader should be able to do it himself.) (Butler 14)

8. You Don't have to Explain Everything clearly to the Reader
or Avoid summarizing for the reader.Summary is the use of actions that don’t need summarizing. Example. Robert was in the bar behind the base. Robert would sit and drink in the bar all day. Robert was an Alcoholic. (Summary is usually used to try to shorten major ideas, but if you can simply say someone is an alcoholic, then that is less than writing. It is merely summarizing.)

Non-Summary:Robert leans back in his chair at the "Alley Cat Tavern" and watched the customers come and go. Some wore clear military uniforms as the staggered from the Airforce Exchange. After fourteen shots of whisky and two pitchers, his buzz was a tiny itch, and he knew his credit and money were gone. Robert poured back drink after drink until the Barman said, "Buddy, you've an hour left." (Butler 14)

9. Avoid generalized statements:
Generalized statements have no real information in them, they allow for no discovery from the reader and border on common information of little value. Example: The walls of the tavern were white from being painted. (Butler 14).

10. Avoid writing Abstract sentences
Abstract Sentences are vague and without detail can mean anything to anyone. Use specificity through detail and sensual writing.

Example: I started the shower and everything was good. (What does everything was good mean?)

(Try to Create Resonance in each sentence by giving exact detail. Or Use Specificity.)

Example: A few weeks later at Practice, you could tell how good we were.

(This is Abstract? How can we tell, because you told us?)

Example. The Preacher stood at the podium and gave a sermon. The crowd was silent. (Abstract sentences do not contain detail. Nor do generalized sentences. Generalized and abstract sentences contain _no_ detail, nor are they resonant.)

Specificity. Father Brown stood before the oak podium and cradled his bible. “You’ve all come here today to Bury Jackson Turner. Some of you knew him and some of you were his family.” Marjorie Turner bowed her head for a moment and leaned upon the nearest pew. She let out a long sigh, and ran her hand over the podium. (Butler 14).

Butler's original flaws of writing are Abstraction, Summary, Generalization, Analysis and Interpretation. I name them the Five Fatal Flaws. (Butler 14).

Most of these examples tend to border on "Meta-Writing"

"Meta-writing" is the use of sentences that are weak in the following ways. They lack sensual detail. They state the obvious. They generalize. They are Abstract. They are theory.

Examples:

I went to school that morning, and I spent a lot of time at school.

It is important to write a good sentence.

In the next chapter I will talk heavily about the subject of displacement.

This brings me to my next point.

The ending of the essay is going to really wow you.

For a fantastic story that uses "Meta-writing" in an incredibly emotional and powerful way, check out Orientation by Daniel Orozco.

11. Always Use Linking:Linking is the repetition of key words and the variation of words from sentence to sentence. When sentences are eight words or more you may use repetition and variation of repetition with no problem. Read the following as an example:

"The Sisters" by James Joyce
THERE was no hope for him this time: it was the third stroke. Night after night I had passed the house (it was vacation time) and studied the lighted square of window: and night after night I had found it lighted in the same way, faintly and evenly. If he was dead, I thought, I would see the reflection of candles on the darkened blind for I knew that two candles must be set at the head of a corpse. He had often said to me: "I am not long for this world," and I had thought his words idle. Now I knew they were true. Every night as I gazed up at the window I said softly to myself the word paralysis. It had always sounded strangely in my ears, like the word gnomon in the Euclid and the word simony in the Catechism. But now it sounded to me like the name of some maleficent and sinful being. It filled me with fear, and yet I longed to be nearer to it and to look upon its deadly work.

Notice the blatant repetition of words which I have marked for you in red, but also concept words such as corpse, death, dead and deadly. When sentences are longer, you may repeat more.

This Technique was taught me by Doctor Robert Nelsen, and I look upon it as the mark of a skilled writer.

12.Use strong verbs.
Verbs are power words and can do more work than adjectives or adverbs.
(Studying under John Wood taught me a technique called "Verbing" or as Matthew Silverman pointed out, was our Job's as poets. Great Poets or writers created their own words by turning a noun into a verb. How you phrase something is a big part of being a great writer. Read any great writer and you will see.)

Examples: Noun (Snake) Verbing: Snaked. Example: He snaked his way across the room, and slithered over next to Amanda. He smiled and said, "It would be my pleasure to have you over to my place," his tongue darting over every word that trailed out of his mouth.

13. Use Poetic Language.
Used often to enhance poetic qualities of moments in time. Gives life to inanimate objects. The tree slowly dipped its branch to the ground, almost touching it, almost as if it had felt the need to bow its heavy, leafy head. (Most Poetic Technique was learned under Doctor John Wood, and from great Sources such as Western Wind and Poetic Meter and Poetic Form by Paul Fussel, as well as reading nearly a book of poems, a book of short stories and a play almost every week during my time at McNeese State University.)

14. Rhythm equals sense.
The rope arced over and over the heads of the girls, and slapped and clapped and whipped along the ground as they jumped and giggled and jumped and laughed in front of the swings. (You can almost hear the rope skipping on the pavement and see the girls jumping.)

15. To Be an Artist means never to avert your eyes. "--Akira Kurisowa

Part of your writing innately must focus on things that both move you and are part of who you are.
If you are afraid to write about such things because they give you the "feels" then your writing will usually remain boring, flat and below A level. Try to focus on things that evoke emotions, especially when writing narrative. You must somehow try to focus your emotions into your writing, by examining what moves you.

Most of your writing is centered on yourself (At least as a starting point) so you don’t necessarily leave yourself behind, but the writing will be improved by what you treasure and love, and are afraid of. So you must get in touch with yourself to write, and whatever it is, you must focus it as part of the writing, whether it is narrative or academic writing.

Robert Olen Butler refers to this as the "White Hot Center" in his teaching, where you look at yourself and face the distinct horrors of your life and life, the chaos of the world in order to make art objects. A writer must tap into that "Roiling" place in order to truly be a writer and for work to have any real power or meaning or any emotion. (Butler 18).

Example: Every other Christmas, my grandmother arrived at our house. After a long and labored back roads drive she exited the car first, my grandfather toting all the luggage, and instead of using the entrance in the garage, walked straight to the front doors and rang the doorbell. As she entered, she would pass my father her coat, while she hugged my mother, and hand me her purse. My mother would escort her through the foyer and into the den, where before really looking around, she would move her hand over the nearest end table or ledge she could find and check for non-existent dust. Every time she came this was what she did, and every time, my father and I would hang up her coat, walk her luggage to the back room while my grandfather, settled into my father's chair. My father spoke very little during this time, and I was usually told to be quiet, there-by I resigned myself to sitting on the floor near the coffee table, and knowing that for the week and a half she would be here, I would either become a distant ghost of myself, or spend most of the time in my room. My father's opinion was also of little matter, for during the time they stayed with us, he and I were expected to be quiet and invisible.

16. Avoid Gerunds(“ing” verbs) unless you use them as an adjective or set up a state of being, then take responsibility for that state of being by ending it in another sentence. Gerunds should usually be used for description. Gerunds are only used in description. You should use active voice. You open the car door. Everyone else around you uses words that use "ing."

17.Variety is the Spice of Writing:
Vary your Sentence Structure.Do not always start with "I." Try to modulate your sentences, occasionally writing very long and occasionally writing very short. Mix up your sentences so that a reader somehow gets a breath between them. Add paragraph breaks so the reader can take a breathe, and always be sure to try and make every sentence unique. No sentence should start the same way.

Example: Short sentence, Long sentence, Long, short. Short-short-short.. Medium. (Mix them up.)

18. Landscape equals (is) Character.
Objects Equal Character. Good Writers give their readers objects and surrounding details. Objects require detail and are often personal and connect to emotions and feelings. Good Writers pick important objects to show their readers and how they treat them reveals both character and information (Including emotions.)

Robert Olen Butler attributes this to Henry James, but it is part of his technique sensual writing and Yearning, and is put into practice by many great writers. (Butler 15).

Here is an example about me. All of this is merely landscape, but it reveals the character and idea of what is going to happen:

It was 4:00 am when the phone buzzed bright blue and the words said, “You are the worst boyfriend ever.” The phone was by my desk, and I had taken the Lan-line off the hook, because I wanted to be invisible to her. The cold blotter on my desk had a fresh pool of drool which had created a large , dark spot on a circled date—2 year anniversary. Next to it were all kinds of notes, notes she had written—polite yet crappy reminders of stuff I should do. Groom yourself daily—write me love letters—be more on time—screw that. The blinds next to me were still open, so I reached over and closed them so nobody outside could see me or find me.

Here is an example from "The Secret Agent" by Joseph Conrand. Notice the world of Verloc's Business, which tells you everything you need to know about Verloc as a character:

The shop was small, and so was the house. It was one of those grimy brick houses which existed in large quantities before the era of reconstruction dawned upon London. The shop was a square box of a place, with the front glazed in small panes. In the daytime the door remained closed; in the evening it stood discreetly but suspiciously ajar.

The window contained photographs of more or less undressed dancing girls; nondescript packages in wrappers like patent medicines; closed yellow paper envelopes, very flimsy, and marked two and six in heavy black figures; a few numbers of ancient French comic publications hung across a string as if to dry; a dingy blue china bowl, a casket of black wood, bottles of marking ink, and rubber stamps; a few books with titles hinting at impropriety; a few apparently old copies of obscure newspapers, badly printed, with titles like the Torch, the Gong--rousing titles. And the two gas-jets inside the panes were always turned low, either for economy's sake or for the sake of the customers.This is Verloc's Character. He is a grimy, square little man--almost non-descript. His Shop is filled with impropriety, and is dingy, it operates mostly at night, like Verloc, it is filled with Porn and comics, and crap. And Verloc's Clientelle, they are shady, cheap men mostly committing impropriety. The last most wonderful aspect of this passage is the lights are kept low, directly because the customers are secretive, but because Verlock is cheap! His house is cheap! His wares are cheap! The newspapers that he wraps his wares in are cheap.

Landscape doesn't have to be scenery: Landscape can be a room. It can be a house. It can be someone's desk. It can be a poster. Landscape will usually hint at possibilities.

Example: The state of a person's house will hint at what is wrong with a person.

The rundown street stretched out before me through a neighborhood that had once been one of the nicest around. Trash was everywhere, including bits of it that seemed to tumble across the street in the wind or lay helpless in the driveways, choking the grass. There were only three houses before my grandfather's which used to be the tallest most well kept on the block--other houses Now the grass itself was in disarray which my grandfather once mowed every summer in pride. Broken clumps of overturned earth and refuse lay motionless, spread across the driveway--these cluttered the walk up to the front of his house. His awning which once was bright green and vibrant was now fading into an almost olive color, neglected and damaged my grandmother's once beautiful flowers which she cared for daily were now slumped and dying in their untended beds.

Here is an example from "Literacy Narrative" by Kiki Petrosino.

"I wish to put my blackness into some kind of order. My blackness, my builtness, my blackness, a bill. I want you to know how I feel it: cold key under the tongue. Mean fishhook of homesickness that catches my heart when I walk under southern pines. And how I recognized the watery warp of the floor in my great-grandma’s house, when I dreamed it. This is what her complaining ghost said: Write about me.

I try to write about her. I try to write about her.

Where did my blackness begin? In Virginia. With an African woman called Rachel and her wedding to William Henry, half-English, half-Cherokee, who wouldn’t let his red hair be photographed. It began with some land, and their house, which survived as a dark ring of chimney stones I once visited. It began with the bodies of Rachel and William Henry, two silences, buried in the lozenge of earth they owned.

But that is not how my blackness began.

I wish to put it into some kind of order. Ashes, oyster shells, my mid-Atlantic bones. My grandmama at twelve, walking away from the farm in Virginia, leaving the little Negro school that only went up to sixth grade. I wanted to go to the seventh grade so badly I don’t know why. Grandmama at fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, alone in D.C., attending school and answering ads for “light girls” to clean houses, to watch children. She wore her plain blue uniform dress while serving dinner to the white family whose children she also watched. Grandmama and her college diploma, her government job, her pleated skirts and gold circle pins, years and years on her own.

I try to write about her. I try to write about her.

My blackness smiles out from my skin, a friend. Here are my narrow jaws and coiling hair. My color I’ve described in poems as “a high and disagreeable gold.” It is a friend, it is a friend. You can’t help but reach out for my blackness, like the white woman poet who once patted her palms down my hair, laughing, “I’ve been wanting to do that.” As if she’d finally allowed herself something sweet and rare. So I forgave her. Part of me likes being looked at, being recognized. It’s just as my PawPaw would say of himself, “I’m a good color,” and sit in the front row for group portraits at the War Department. We have portrait after portrait of PawPaw in his business suit, pale pocket square, brown smiling face. A good color.

So I show up, at eighteen, on the foremost riser for my university choir performances. So I get a solo. So I drink orange juice on Jefferson’s Lawn with my choir friends, and bits of the Lawn lift themselves on Charlottesville breezes and drop into my cup. I drink Charlottesville like medicine. I stalk the libraries and lecture halls no one built for me, and my blackness shows me a flickering host through the colonnades: kerchiefed women carrying laundry, servants with horses, the cooks and carriers of firewood. How will I live up to them? I wish to offer something. I wish for my blackness to be fully known here, to resolve into some kind of order. But I have no basket name, no communal experiences beyond the Latin hymns I learned in Catholic school. Back then, I still press my hair, pull it back. "

I have stopped marking this. But I assume, with a large amount of hope that you recognize the landscape--not only in the places mentioned but also in the objects, the clothing and things that Petrosino mentions. The things that reveal all of her character.

In another example the state of a person's desk, depending on the objects can also hint at what is going to happen.

The clock registered the time as noon, when I woke up. My phone had been flashing with multiple texts, all from Jenny: Call me, we need to talk. Seriously, why aren't you answering. The phone flashed a few more times, but I was still unable to rise, so I slumped back into the bed and gazed over at my desk. Across the mirror, pictures of Jenny and I hung precariously from the corners of the mirror frame. One picture showed Jenny with her arms crossed, looking at me, while I laughed with a beer in my hand--the picture itself was crumpled and damaged. A wilted flower lay across my open date book with an entry circled in red--anniversary, make sure you remember.

Example: A simple poster or image can be landscape.

The beach stretched out like a long line into the distance. Some guy and his tanned girlfriend walked between the water and the beach, hand-in-hand, laughing and occasionally splashing water at his unsuspecting girlfriend. His face full of smiles ignored her mild discomfort while she flinched from the sudden attack. Scores of people around then sat in the sun, tanning and running, The ocean reaches up, pulling at the shore over and over, lapping at their heals and occasionally sliding across the sand and pulling some of it back into the sea. Bright red letters, proclaimed: "Come to Cabo and Never Want to Leave." "I've got your tickets all taken care of here," said the Ticket Agent, "Boy, I wish I could trade places with you."

Example: A simple opening to a student essay showing landscape and desolation--I have marked the aspects of description in red--this comes from a simple textbook discussing narration and description. There are several examples of sensual details in the midst of the third paragraph where the speakers feels the most emotion.

Something told me that I should not have turned off the highway while driving alone at night. But John, now my ex-best friend, had said that this was the fastest way to get to the tiny airport in the next town. A few minutes ago it had started raining, and now it was coming down so hard that I could barely see the bumpy gravel road ahead of me. There were no lights, no cars, no people, just me in my 1972 Ford Pinto trying to catch the once-a-week flight back to the city. "How stupid can I be?" I wondered. "No plane is going to take off in weather like this anyway!"

All of a sudden there was a sharp streak of lightning that spread out like a large tree branch. A deafening burst of thunder followed it. Then the hail started coming down, pounding on the roof and hood of my car--everything was obscured for at least 60 feet out my front window.

After I stopped the car and slumped back in my seat. Beads of clammy sweat rolled down my neck and back. "Now what am I going to do?" I groaned.

As I tried to get out of the car to walk for help, the strong winds pushed the door shut again and a chill seemed to form over me. No one really knew for sure where I was. It was almost like I was trapped.

Suddenly two lights in my rearview mirror caught my attention. They grew increasingly bigger and bigger as the approached my car. The lights stopped three feet behind me. At that moment, I was unsure whether to feel scared or relieved. My legs started to shake. The loud bang of a door slamming shut was followed by the crunching steps of someone or something walking on the wet gravel road. "What's going to happen now?" I asked myself.

19. Speed Equals Sense:
Slow down as needed and go moment-to-moment to create detail of action. (Almost Second to Second.) Remember that time is always a factor in your writing. "You can use Fast Action, Slow Motion and Real time with a variety of Nuance." Examples of this are shown in the chapter “Cinema of the Mind” by Robert Olen Butler. (63-84).

"Fast Action is created through Judiscious and well written detail summary." Slow Motion is shown through careful introspection where you spend quite a bit of time on one object, in personal proximity. Real Time is achieved in normal "moment-to-moment" writing, which includes dialogue.

20. “Cinema of the mind.”
Use visual techniques you learned in studying movies. Movies show action rather than explain it. Think of paragraphing or even sentence construction like a shot—some shots are short—some are long and require excessive detail. How you transition between those shots is also important, so think visually and "cinematically" to create better writing.)

Remember the type of shots. Long Shot, Medium shot and Close-up. Each of these shots has something to do with intimate proximity and intimate physical relationship.

Each also shows a different connection. A close-up can show the distinct emotional appearance of someone. A long shot can show the distinct connection of a character with the landscape. And a Medium can show the distinct connection or a character to physical or smaller objects. Each of these examples has a nuance of effect, each intimate or appropriate as the sentence or shot can show. Your use of a sentence using this technique provides a more unique and interesting sentence. This is a conscious technique choice.

Remember moving from sentence to sentence is like a cut. Cuts show cohesive ideas. Remember what the dissolve looks like and how it can be achieved through unique writing. (These Techniques Belong to Robert Olen Butler, and their use has opened an entire world to many students.) (Butler 63-84).

Here are visual examples of the types of shot.

Medium Shot.

Usually about half the human figure is present, and there is a level of background. It is the interplay of this background with the figure that is most important that creates the Mis-en-scene or the Juxtaposition. The purpose of the shot is exactly the interplay of the background and the foreground. The Human figure in transition to the objects next to her.

Sentence Example: Our intimate proximity is defined by the person in the sentence and her relationship and action to the objects.

The woman lay on the bed, her body half covered by silk sheets. She had turned her back to the door, and to anyone that would enter. The sheets were a mess, and the TV had been turned up, She lay across the foot of the bed, sprawled and disaffected. On the TV the man spoke to the woman whose hair color and shape of her hair were about the same look and cut of the woman on the bed. "You know I love you, but i think you just might kill me if I turned your back on you," he said. The woman in the bed slicked back her hair and continued to watch the screen. The man on the screen turned for a moment, before the woman on the screen shot him. The woman on the bed took a long drag from her cigarette and then flicked her ash at the television.

See, in this shot we must infer from how objects are treated, and a person treats them, the kind of character they are. Often the words used and actions will show us.

Long Shot:

Long Shot:
Full Human figures are usually shown in a long shot, along with large sections of scenery, The landscape in both the background and the foreground is very important here. It is usually more important than the human figures, but they must be considered in the context of everything.

Establishing Shot:
Specific landscape and visual city/town areas. Human figures are usually very very small. An Establishing shot is a Long Shot usually, but the shot introduces the area, the city, the land as the most important part of the shot.

In both of these types of shots, we can only infer from Landscape. So in this example the words and landscape will tell us what is going on.

The five men met on the hill, far from prying eyes, and the law. The clouds overhead formed a dark and foreboding cover, in the distance between the white hills, between the greying distant sky and the oily cloud cover. In the damp air, the brown, decaying grass crunched under their feet. the trees, formed a shroud like cover, blanketing the nearby Potter's field. The only witness, a grave and collapsing stone wall, the gate unlocked and open, into a nearby clover strewn field.

If you look close enough you might see these men are in the middle of dual. Someone is going to shoot someone or perhaps each other, but there will be a death, and the landscape tells you this. The landscape's proximity is distant but initimate enough to tell you this story will be about death and tragedy.

The last type of shot is called a Close-up:

This type of shot usually shows a human face or an object.

The background is usually insignificant because there is so little of it.

The purpose of the shot is close inspection of the character or human figure, or close inspection of an object.

In terms of intimate proximity, this is where you will get the closest to an object and know the most emotionally about a character.

Mark sat at his computer a few moments as the woman left him. She had basically told him what he didn't want to hear, that this situation would be covered, but that he had brought much of it on himself, by the way he acted. His mouth curled downward and froze in that position. This was his normal at rest face, and his teeth showed themselves in this position usually. He looked at the computer in front of him, the only object that usually did what he wanted and never talked back. His eyes narrowed, and his breath was slow and erratic. His nose pinched upward, and he looked only at the screen which never talked back, and all he saw was pure code which never made him feel inadequate or wrong. His back was to the woman as she left, and his body stayed there.

21. Juxtaposition:
Ideas can be created through basic juxtaposition. Placing one object by another object. Placing one sentence by another sentence which creates a perceived relationship. Great writers know when they place sentences by other sentence the effects they want to create. They control what ideas they slip into their stories. Filmmakers call this montage. Remember as Butler said, filmic ideas have equivalents in Narrative technique. (Butler 63-84).

(This concept was also introduced to me by Doctor Adrienne McLean. Juxtaposition didn't really take hold for me, until I studied both Butler and many filmmakers.)

Words create images. When you list those images next to each other, the placement of those images creates an idea.

My father's tombstone read, "Beloved, Father. Devoted Husband. Caring Educator."

In this example, the order of the titles is of most importance, but also they are seen perhaps by the family as equivalent roles.

22. Always use Active voice.
Passive voice is weak writing. Active voice means to get straight to the action of the sentence: Example: The dog is barking. This sentence is passive voice. The dog barks is active voice.

23. Avoid normal Adjectives.
Use Adjectives in ways that are not cliché.

24. Avoid excessive Adverbs.
Adverbs are often weak writing.

(Any study of any great writer will note that the strongest writers use adverbs sparingly, that adjectives are used that are always new and not cliche, and that active voice is clean clear, powerful writing.)

25. It’s not always important what actually happened, rather what seemed to happen to you.

Remember the "compost heap of the Imagination." (Allow things to change as needed. Or.) Some writers call this, putting a 100 on 10. You take what actually happened and you multiply it by 100.
(This rule comes from a number of places. The comedian Bernie Mac described putting a 100 on 10, meaning he took something and expanded it for his needs. )

(Doctor John Wood frequently described that in poetry you often changed your story given the need of the circumstance.)
(Robert Olen Butler describes the "Bad Memories" or authors as Described by Graham Greene in his chapter, "The Zone" as well as what he calls the "Compost Heap of the Imagination" where things are allowed to grow, change, morph, transform after a while. )

(A great example of this is by writer Tim O'Brian in his chapter "How to Tell a True War Story." The entire story is about this rule. In my personal opinion every student should read this story.)(Butler 23-38)

26. Always Re-read and rewrite and re-dream your work: Free Write First with your Heart and then Write with your Head.

Never assume it will come out perfectly the first time you write it.

Technique is usually applied on a second or third reading through revision.

The first thing you write is going to be a mess, but it is easier to edit your work into a great piece of writing, then it is to write line by line, worrying about the first sentences you write and if they are good enough

You must read things again after you write them just as you must rewrite them after you have written them once. (Butler 37).

27. Use A Dissolve to Link Images to Narrative.
The technique called the dissolve can be studied in both film and fiction. It is a matter of simple Juxtaposition. It can be used to transition back and forth in time, specifically when you are creating a flashback.

The following are examples between two different objects, the effect is created by a sentence through the use of a coordinating conjunction, the "and."

At the beginning you are in the present, but once the and is past, you will see that the object has become a similar object, and simply through the dissolve you have stepped into the past.

Examples: (Remember as you study these, the and basically is the hinge pin that shows the person seems to be moving back and forth in time--at least in memory, but always moves between similiar objects (items, people) or actions. Read them closely and hopefully you'll see how they work, but the purpose here is to create memory jumps mostly for the sake of emotion. No explanation is needed, because there is enough information between them for the reader to understand that the person has moved into a memory.)

“Here’s your ring, “she said holding it towards me. “I expect you to take it back,” she said, extending her hand rather firmly and as I reached for the ring, her hand extended to me and then I was putting it on her finger.

“Oh it’s absolutely perfect. I love it….” She said again as I slipped it straight onto her hand, “you know people will know we’re going steady now. You’ll have to do what I say,” she said and when I looked up at her again, she scowled, “Do what I say and take this ring. I have somewhere to be!” Already she was breathing heavy, “God, you are useless,” and that’s when she dropped the ring into the dirt in front of me. “Lose my number.”

As I look at the toothbrush for a moment, the edges of it curl and I see before me what looks like a drumstick.

The tire for a moment skids across the pavement and as it rests I can see the alien emerge from the flying saucer. “Are you even watching this movie,” she asks. The flying saucer itself is large and oval and I can see Keanu Reeves looking at the screen. “Not really, “ I say.

The dogs tail slaps itself over and over against the ground and when I look up the rope is still turning and still slapping against the pavement. “I’m not going to take your head off with the jump rope,” she says. Already I can see she wants me to move between the rapidly moving ropes, and I want to do it to show her I can. “Just shut up, Stupid head.” I say, but at that moment all Michelle can do is laugh at me.

Example: (I'm looking at a ball here, and when I look up I'm in the past. I connect the stitching on the ball to the stitches on my arm. Also I transfer back between two different men. )

Behind Tina’s photo is another object, this one is round and scruffy, and it takes me a minute to see that it is a baseball with the stuffing smashed out of it. The baseball itself is tucked behind the other trophies. Taking a moment, I pull myself up and grab it from the shelf. It is round and scarred on one side, where half the stuffing and twine have been knocked out of it. As I roll the ball around in my hands, I trace my finger across the stitches of it, and my finger traces across the stitches overlapping the reddish scar down my arm. Two more kids wait in line to bat. "That looks bad, did it hurt?" Tina looks at me, the only girl in the dugout.

"Not really," I say but that is an obvious lie. Barson’s Field is covered in a light haze, the stands are filled with people and they are all looking at me. The coach motions for me to leave as I exit the team box. For a moment, the wind itself seems to freeze—the players all slow down as I move past them—Tommy Johnson picks his nose and flicks the green remains toward the ground. The striped umpire looks at me for a moment, and shakes his head. When I look at the umpire again for second he motions toward the plate he says, "Wake up," and when I turn the man wearing red, white and blue stripes on the television yells, "Wake up, America! There's so many things you might be missing in the financial world!"

Here's deeper instruction for how it works.

28. Sound Equals Sense:
Use Sound to create mood and effects. Sound must equal sense.
Soft Sounds for Soft moments. (Use of S sounds, Soft words for soft sense.)
Heavy Sounds for Heavy moments. (Hard Words for Serious or intense moments.)
Enhanced Vowel sounds create different time effects

Slow and Fast:

Long A’s, O’s and U’s Slow down time.

Here's an example from "Smashmouth," In these lyrics at first the song seems to move slow, but then it speeds up. When it speeds up, the amount of vowel words chance from A O and U's to I's and E's.

Listen to the song and read the lyrics, and notice the change in speed as they are sung.

Long I’s and E’s speed time up. (Both create the illusion of speed and slowness.)

(The Study all of this is the realm of poetry, and can be learned by reading great poets such Alexander Pope, Dylan Thomas or Wallace Stevens. The poetry textbook Western Wind and Poetic Meter and Poetic Form by Paul Fussel are great starting points--But reading great poetry is a great starting point. Doctor John Wood taught me the term sound equals sense and I have never forgotten it.)

29. Syntax Equals Sense.
Create Organic Cohesiveness through word choice and paragraph construction.
(A further concept of the above concept, which is tied into Linking and Organic cohesiveness. Robert Olen Butler describes that a work of art must remain organic and malleable.) (Butler 24).

30. Use Yearning to drive actions and visual/sensual details.

Robert Olen Butler's chapter on "Yearning" is a great tool for both literary analysis and fictional technique. His theory can be applied to many writers, and has helped numerous students approach writers they would normally have trouble understanding. Learning his theory of "Yearning" helps writers and readers.

Yearning comes in two forms. Surface Yearning and Deep Yearning—both are connected. Always try to place a yearning under any narrative you write for a larger organic vision
(Butler 39-61)

31. Mis-en-scene:
Create visual pictures, paying careful attention to objects you place in your wrting. No object should exist unless it has a purpose.
(The Study of Filmic Mis-en-scene and Butler's discussion of "Cinema of the Mind" helps connect students visually into literature by showing Mis-en-scene in the work of writers. Occasionally writers such as Dickens and others create written mis-en-scene in their work and students can as well.)

Written Mis-en-scene:

The man on the television screen stared at the woman in front of him, and spoke to her in English, french subtitle flashed below. "I don't know why I listen to you." he said, the woman's head barely on screen. From the distance, Charlotte watched, half under the silk sheets of the hotel room bed, half -naked, her cigarette half burned down to her knuckle. He smoothed her hair back from her head to her neck and leaned against the pillow which she had moved to the foot of the bed. The curtains were drawn and all but the bedside lamp was off as she watched the man speaking to the woman on screen. The remaining tray from lunch, sat on the stand next to her bed, one coffee cup and one egg dish. Charlotte flicked a few ashes into the ashtray that set on the bed and watched as the woman shot the man on the screen.

A student of Mis-en-scene should study the composition of film shots, in order to understand how to write. A mis-en-scene they must paint a word picture with thier writing. The Length is arbitrary to the word scene you wish to create.

32. Spell-check doesn't fix stupid.(Always Proofread your work.)
Once you have written something in the heat of the moment, it is always best to step away from what you have written-- even if it is for an hour.

Once you then step back to look at it again, you will notice errors because--you will have taken a break from it and allowed the writing which seemed so fresh and so hot in your mind to cool off.

During the proofreading stage you might overlook that you had written the word "reed" instead of "read." The spellchecker has many jobs, but its main job is to check words. Reed, although correct is incorrect in the context of the sentence, and you would have missed that detail. You should always proofread your work. You will find that stepping away from it and returning to it, will reveal to you things you missed and things that need changing.

33. Spell out numbers 1-9.

You can type and double or a triple digit number: 14, 44, 200,000 but you must spell out single digit numbers. Never ever start a sentence with a number. I will mark off a point every time you start a sentence with a number.

34. Anyone of these rules can be broken if you have a good enough reason.

The mark of a true writer is knowing when to break the rule, as Joseph Conrad pointed out in his "Preface" to The Nigger of the Narcissus.

One must learn the rules first. Study the works of great writers and you will see a dedication to the rules. The final technique of a great writer is knowing when to break them.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

His Girl Friday

A Set of Rules is a Good Teaching Tool (Intro)

Rules