Fable the First
Apr. 12th, 2018 09:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
radiantfractureI had a fine Finishing Class at Good tonight, walking there and back with K.
We talked, on the way there, of class planning (wherein she had several flashes of brilliance and I took note by tracing letters on my palm to remember later), and, on the way back, about writing, since she is contemplating some serious structural changes to a draft, and I am intently gleaning insights about, for example, the different levels of introspection available in first- and third-person points of view. (Not What You Might Think.)
It was good to have a productive work session. My last few have been frustrating, but tonight I found flow. I mostly worked on school stuff, but in a fluid, intuitive way, shifting back and forth between direct planning and writing what turned out to be some bits of fiction.
Indeed, I actually wrote a couple of little fables for use in the class. I would like to have something short and complete on the first day, when they won't have read anything but I still need to do something with them for three hours.
I don't know that I'll actually use these -- bits of the actual readings would make more sense -- but it was fun to sit down and think, "What sort of a story do I wish I had on hand to unify the various themes and preoccupations of this course?"
Since I mean to type up these little fabrications either way, here is the first. The second is a bit longer, and my shoulders are tired, so I will type it up tomorrow. (I will, too, because the bit about the spire makes me chortle.)
A dragon and a unicorn happened to meet in a library upon the opened page of an enormous and very old atlas. Some old books are nearly as large as a librarian, so it was not as narrow a fit as you might think.
The dragon was very fierce. He had a long, snaky, recurved neck with sharp triangular scales bristling in all directions, and his crest was picked out in gold leaf. His claws were like sickles the size of whole atolls on the map, and his teeth were like the mountains that rumpled the inner landscape of the continents. He had wild, rolling, white eyes and his tongue stuck out in bright red rills like a second serpent.
"THIS IS MY DOMAIN," he bellowed, stamping his foot on the parchment continent and tearing a great rift through the coastline. The sea poured in and drowned the shining plains. "FLEE, RIVAL! My scales will shatter your horn, and my fiery breath will incinerate your flesh! Flee! Fly now! You must be gone!"
"I am here," said the unicorn, "And I have been here since the beginning. I can no more leave this place than it can leave itself. Besides, I believe I am painted right onto the vellum." Vellum is a very old form of paper made from calfskin. It makes a beautiful translucent surface on which colours glow like stained glass -- thus the unicorn was a radiant being who shone like the moon, especially when you held her carefully up to the lamp.
"GO, I tell you," howled the dragon, "Or I will roast your flesh with my mighty flames! Unicorn steak for dinner!"
"I don't think that's a good idea," said the unicorn. "You would burn up the whole atlas, and with it all of the lands you claim, and yourself, too. Why not instead--" but the dragon had already roared.
{rf}
We talked, on the way there, of class planning (wherein she had several flashes of brilliance and I took note by tracing letters on my palm to remember later), and, on the way back, about writing, since she is contemplating some serious structural changes to a draft, and I am intently gleaning insights about, for example, the different levels of introspection available in first- and third-person points of view. (Not What You Might Think.)
It was good to have a productive work session. My last few have been frustrating, but tonight I found flow. I mostly worked on school stuff, but in a fluid, intuitive way, shifting back and forth between direct planning and writing what turned out to be some bits of fiction.
Indeed, I actually wrote a couple of little fables for use in the class. I would like to have something short and complete on the first day, when they won't have read anything but I still need to do something with them for three hours.
I don't know that I'll actually use these -- bits of the actual readings would make more sense -- but it was fun to sit down and think, "What sort of a story do I wish I had on hand to unify the various themes and preoccupations of this course?"
Since I mean to type up these little fabrications either way, here is the first. The second is a bit longer, and my shoulders are tired, so I will type it up tomorrow. (I will, too, because the bit about the spire makes me chortle.)
A dragon and a unicorn happened to meet in a library upon the opened page of an enormous and very old atlas. Some old books are nearly as large as a librarian, so it was not as narrow a fit as you might think.
The dragon was very fierce. He had a long, snaky, recurved neck with sharp triangular scales bristling in all directions, and his crest was picked out in gold leaf. His claws were like sickles the size of whole atolls on the map, and his teeth were like the mountains that rumpled the inner landscape of the continents. He had wild, rolling, white eyes and his tongue stuck out in bright red rills like a second serpent.
"THIS IS MY DOMAIN," he bellowed, stamping his foot on the parchment continent and tearing a great rift through the coastline. The sea poured in and drowned the shining plains. "FLEE, RIVAL! My scales will shatter your horn, and my fiery breath will incinerate your flesh! Flee! Fly now! You must be gone!"
"I am here," said the unicorn, "And I have been here since the beginning. I can no more leave this place than it can leave itself. Besides, I believe I am painted right onto the vellum." Vellum is a very old form of paper made from calfskin. It makes a beautiful translucent surface on which colours glow like stained glass -- thus the unicorn was a radiant being who shone like the moon, especially when you held her carefully up to the lamp.
"GO, I tell you," howled the dragon, "Or I will roast your flesh with my mighty flames! Unicorn steak for dinner!"
"I don't think that's a good idea," said the unicorn. "You would burn up the whole atlas, and with it all of the lands you claim, and yourself, too. Why not instead--" but the dragon had already roared.
{rf}
no subject
Date: 2018-04-13 12:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-04-13 02:52 pm (UTC)Though it did happen of its own accord. Apparently that's just where my mind always dwells, there in the conflagration.