–LORING’S CORNER–
Does This Story Make My
Butt Look Fat?
By Loring Emery
When Mr. Eisenhower and I were dress-
alikes, there was a traditional group of miseries in the Army
called "The Daily Dozen." These were calisthenics intended to
bring raw soldiers into a proper condition of fitness and
happiness. They were called High Jumper, Bend and Reach, Squat
Thrust, Rowing Exercise, Bottoms Up, Squat Bender, Push-Up, Side
Bender, Body Twist, Squat Jumper, Trunk Twister, Stationary Run
and Eight-Count Push-Up. I leave it to the reader to imagine
what each entailed. (Don't try this at home.)
We new recruits would learn to do the first exercise on
the first day and then add the others on succeeding days. When
we were felt to be ready (not when we felt we were ready, now)
we went to two repetitions of each. On each succeeding week we
added another. In three months we who survived could do a dozen
repetitions of the entire set and were, therefore, trained (and,
therefore, happy.) After that, we maintained our superb
condition (and happiness) by continuing the process.
Those of us who have a tendency to flab in our
writing-muscles might consider a "daily dozen" of exercises
also. Just as the ones we did in the Army were for general
conditioning and not for specific tasks, the ones I propose here
are also for conditioning. If, fortuitously, some ancillary good
is done, well, that's not forbidden.
Okay. Here are the exercises that I use when inactivity
(blockage or non-acceptance) starts to make my brain-mush
flabby. I try to do at least one every two or three days. To nag
me, I keep the list posted on the story board above my desk.
Okay, my list:
1. Write a complete set of instructions for
some familiar household chore, such as
loading a dishwasher or getting bug-guts
off the ceiling. It should give the untrained
operator enough information so that he
can perform the chore without supervision.
2. Select a familiar children's story, such as
the one of the Three Little Pigs, and write it
as a news item for a newspaper. Yeah, with
adult language, even.
3. Read stories you don't like and identify the
passages that you like least. Try to decide
why these are not agreeable. It might be
revelatory to do the same with one of your
own stories.
4. Tighten up one of your own (accepted?)
stories by a quarter without losing the plot.
Continue to see how far you can go.
5. When you can do this without bending
your knees, do the same with a story by an
established writer.
6. Write a page or so of one your stories from
memory. Compare it with the original and
judge whether the new version is weaker or
stronger.
7. Begin writing a story in a genre you don't
like. If it begins to roll well, you might
choose to complete it and submit it to the
market.
8. In one of your stories, change as many
words as you can to their synonyms.
Compare it with the original to judge
whether the new version is weaker or
stronger.
9. Write an ending page to an imaginary
(non-existent) story.
10. If you have a suitable appliance, record
one of your stories, then listen critically
to the playback.
11. Change one of your stories to a different
venue or time period.
12. Re-write one of your stories leaving out one of the
main characters while retaining the sense and plot. Or do the
same by changing the genders of the main characters.
If you are one of those poor sods who fall into an
occasional period of "writer's block," you might use one of
these exercises to keep the wheels turning.
Periodically, review the results of the exercises. There
might be good stuff in there. In fact, I have gotten at least
one good story out of each one. If nothing comes of it except a
more buff write-bod, at least you'll look good at next
November's WRITDUMCOM. See you there.
??