Auditions

Auditioning characters


Choosing characters for you story can be hard. You have to make sure they fit the role, that they are the way you want them to be, but you have to be prepared to change them for instance:
Mary: serious, intelligent, truant (see how the last trait contradicts the first two?)
Anne: pretty,(pretty can tell yo what the person is like), kind, rebel
Jane: head girl, hard studier, punk

I'm not saying that these traits can't be possible and are strange, because the whole point is that people aren't simple. You don't want strait forward characters for your story, unless they seem straight forward, but have chaos lying in them.
But here is the hard truth.
Your character will change.
Don't fall in love with them. Wait, do, but don't hesitate to change them slightly. But you shouldn't deliberately do it. Bear in mind that they will change, and they will. But if you find they have changed, that is good. What ever is happening should change them, but if they aren't, don't panic, as long as you are not forcing them to do anything, they will be the way thy are supposed to be.
Anyway, back on topic.

Okay, so you don't know whether to make Mary, Anne or Jane your main character. Or maybe you know what your character is going to be like, but you can't decide on a name. This is all right- just settle with a name- and that is harder than it sounds- that either fits well, or if very neutral, like Mary, Anne, Jane, Sarah, all popular, beautiful names, which can be bent to many personalities.
  So consider the names. What is in them? Who do you know with that name?
Perfect Adventure character:
Sarah, Courageous, curious, strong, many skills
But if your character is like this, what is the story going to be about? You can write a story like this, (Indiana Jones) but it doesn't have the same depth as if you develop the character through the story.
Why not? Because Your reader will feel they know the character better- they have seen them grow. Because, they are going through an amazing experience, it will change you. It doesn't have to very much, just liek a perspective on something.
For example, In The little mermaid by Hans Christian Anderson (You can read it on the blog) At first she is very curious about the above world, and then she finds a man who is in trouble. Some say she rescues him because he is handsome, but in the original, it is because he is strange.
And then she follows him. Her curiosity is now desire.
And she gives up everything to be on land, and then, she gives it all up. She gives up what she gave everything for, because her perspective has changed- it is not worth killing her love to have what she wants- he is the one thing that she will not give up for herself- so she dies.
Get the gist?
Choose your characters carefully, because if you choose the wrong one, you may need to change them halfway through, and that can be painful.
So choose carefully.
Also, choose the type carefully. The princess and the frog would completely fall apart if the frog were a piranha, and the princess in most fairy tales would die off if they had not been princesses.
Good luck writing!

BOB, ABE and PAM

A BOB:
Someone who tells you you can't do something, someone who you want to think good of you. This person criticizes you and haunts you until you no longer believe in your dream. But, being a BOB, them criticizing you, although they don't know it, and maybe you don't, makes you want your dream more, often making you succeed. A BOB usually wants to be what you are too, and can't succeed, and makes them self feel better by hurting you. In other words, Do it for BOB!
Boastful
Oblivious
Backbiting

An ABE:
Someone who over-exaggerates you. There is nothing wrong with telling someone that their work is very pretty, or their writing is good when it isn't, to make them feel better, but an ABE make you have false expectations of your work. They don't say: "If you keep writing, you will make it someday," they say "You writing is the best I have ever read. It is even better than Jane Austen, my all time-favorite author. Listen to them, but only some parts. You will make it someday if you keep writing, but you need to remember that you have to keep trying.
Amazing
Brilliant
Extravagant

A PAM:
A PAM is the middle, the perfectly balanced. They tell you to keep going, that your work is great, but they give you feed back to help your writing. Everyone wants a PAM in their head. Sadly, lots of people shut them out.
Practical
Authentic
Middle-balanced

These are listed in order of how good they are, although ABE and BOB are almost just as bad as each other, it is better to have an ABE. you need to listen to both to be a PAM, and you need to be a PAM to finish, publish and sell your work! If you think your story isn't working, change your point of view as much as your story.

Prompt:
1. Make BOB, ABE and PAM into real people, with the same personalities. See what happens when you flesh them out.
2. Write down ten people who are very important in your life. Here is an example:
Mum, Dad, Best friend, friend,enemy, teacher, teacher,  Friend's Parents, Family friends, close other relatives. Write next to their names if they are a BOB, ABE, or a PAM, or if they don't really pay much attention to your writing. Write a sentence or two about why you chose that for them. If they have no involvement in your work, try telling them about it. If they are a BOB, and you think they could change, ask them what you could do to improve. If their answer is sarcastic, ignore them. They don't deserve to be part of your writing. If you think they are a PAM, show them your work, and keep note of the advice they give you!

Cross Country training-A true story

I wrote this for the meadowbank school 2012 year six end of year magazine- I hope you like it!

I dragged my feet reluctantly to the finish line, swallowing the bile that had risen inside my throat, anticipating what lay ahead. Exhaustion. De-hydration, possibly death.

I could hear Miss Fridd’s voice in the background, but what she was saying was muffled by the blood pumping in my ears, making me almost deaf.

My only sign that the death march had started was the other victims were running around me. Without warning, I realized my feet were moving as well, and at a dangerously fast pace, using up large amounts of my almost non-existent energy.

Everyone seemed to be in front of me. In what little thoughts I had, other than to keep running, I wondered how they were moving so fast without collapsing.

My arms pumped hard, threatening to elbow, and severely injure anyone who might have been lapping me. I could feel, rather than hear my short, jiggered breath as it passed through my dry throat.

My legs were screaming, refusing to go any more than a few centimeters with each step. I couldn’t start walking, not on my first lap, but I doubted I could have stopped them without collapsing on the spot. I resisted the long trip to the water fountain, which seemed like miles, not wanting a stitch.

That was when my pains activated. I put a hand to the place where my neck joined my shoulder, my skin clammy and cold, and would have winced, if not for my already cringed brow. Again, it was aching. 

I moved my hand back and forth, squeezing all the pressure points. Adding to the protests in my leg, a string had been attached from my thigh to my knee, and every time I moved, it was pulled taught. I squeezed my eye lids tight to avoid screaming out in agony.

I passed Miss Fridd, her voice screaming something to me, but I couldn’t hear. Probably shouting for me to keep going, and if I had had enough energy, I would have sighed.

My friends were all running towards me, and automatically, my mouth opened to shout congratulations to my friends, making myself feel miserable.

I started to despair over ever breathing again. All I was doing now was short gasps off air, barely enough to keep me from blacking me out.

Everything was going blurred. The passing figures were bursts of colour, and black spots were appearing everywhere, and bile rose into my mouth. I quickly swallowed it, and reached out for the nearest thing to steady me.

I fairly crawled the next few meters, before I set off again. My only hope was to get there fast, and put an end to what seemed this ever-lasting torture.

If possible, I was running even slower than before, my feet barely moving as I threw them down in front of me.

Slowly a specific figure became more focused, and I realized who it was. Jacqui, who had slowed down since I last saw her, was running at the same pace as I, or at least as close as she could get. I do not think it is possible to be running as slow, or slower, than I was.

She passed over a few jokes about how slow we were, and I laughed, although the laughter hurt my ribs, and I tried to resist the urge to laugh again, managing only in returning a comment.

Jacqui suggested running and walking, although I couldn’t tell her when we were walking that I was truly jogging, and when running, well, I suppose she noticed I was moving slower than her walk.

We passed Miss Fridd, who was screaming again. This time, I was able to make out some words like ‘run’ ‘walk’, and ‘keep going.’ As if we weren’t doing that already.

I wanted to sit down, relax, die, anything but run another lap, but my legs kept moving down the track, knowing that I had to ‘keep going.’

I was so exhausted, what before slightly resembled breathing, now more resembled grunting. Eventually, Jacqui said she wanted to run the rest of the way. I tried. I failed. She ran on ahead. Once at the top of the hill, which seemed more like a mountain, I started to run about as fast as a snail, then I stopped. I tried again, this time running more the pace of a dead snail, barely moving at all.

I carried on, my senses dull, all energy lost, and body aching. I went on for what seemed a life time before I reached what I supposed, was the end. Miss Fridd was screaming again, and I guess I did what she was telling me to do, because two words escaped my deafness. “You’re finished.”

I wanted to collapse, stop breathing, close my eyes for good, anything but walk back to class.

Getting ideas

Once there was some one with a  story to tell. They didn't know what this story was, or how they were going to tell it...

At one point, I had thw worst case of writers block. When you don't even have an idea to start with. I had no ideas. I went on to Think baby names and browsed for some names I would like. I also looked up names on  things like  Yahoo Answers for names. I also wrote down names I already liked.

I wrote down three words for each name/girl. (They were all girls, but you can do the same for boys) Then I chose my favourite four, and wrote down a character questionnaire for them.

Name:

Nickname:

Being:

Age:

Gender:

Appearance:

Way of speaking:

Items she carries with her:

Hobbies:

Talents:

Powers:

Relationships:

Fears:

What they want more than anything else:

Then I chose my favourite from there, and opened a new word document. I wrote down some things that should happen in a story about her, what I would have to show in the story. I made up some other characters, too. Some were from the list, others weren’t. I wrote down three words for each. Here is an example:
artistic, foreign,  stylish or docile, strange, lacks self-confidence

See what you can come up with. Choose twelve or more names. It doesn’t matter if you don't like them. Write down three words for each. Choose three that you like the most, r more If you can;t decide. Write down a character questionnaire for each of them.

Choose one from there you like. If you can’t, choose two, and make a separate page for each of them. Write down what each of their stories would be about. You can weave characters and other things in to this description, too. Choose which one you like most. Put it into a situation, but it doesn’t have to be in the world that the character is going to be in for your story. Maybe they are at a bank robbery. What would they do? Would they stand by and watch, or call the police? Would they run away, or interfere? Once you have written down this, read over it a few times. What else have you learnt about your character?  Maybe nothing, but probably something. The character has spoken through you, and you didn’t realize what the character actually wanted to say and be. Maybe you need to change something’s about your character, maybe you don’t. Think what else you can do with them. Do you have an idea in your little scribbled in notebook? Try putting the character with that idea. See what you get.

Save what you write!

Well, National Novel Writing month has started, and we are all neglecting lie as we know it. Good luck to every one who has entered!

250 words: a day in the life of hair

It’s like the horrible stickiness Joiners’ call rain, only inside. Although joiners run to get out of rain, they turn this on, and purposely go under it! Inside rain makes me heavy, and is turning the mess, into more of a mess! I am clinging on to the Joiner’s scalp for dear life, as my sisters and brothers; my loved ones are pulled and swept down the hole. The Dead ones from last night, who were pulled from their roots, are clinging to me too, making such a mess. The joiner puts this white, foamy, sweet smelling thing on us, and I sigh with relief. It’s like the smell of spring time, when the joiner is sitting down of course. I hate when she has to go for a dizziness ride on the round black thing. The grease is disappearing, but the tangles are staying. “AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” I scream, for we’re going back under the rain again. We come out; nice and fresh, no white stuff anymore, just shininess, so much that I screw up where, if I were a Joiner, my eyes would be.  More white stuff comes, and stays, it does practically nothing. But after a few minutes, most of us hairs are free again! No longer tied up in each other! The Joiner’s hand reaches for THE BRUSH.  I hear the scream of all my kin as it pulls at us, taking my neighbour, Hair 1201289 down with it. I close my eyes and hope for the best.