Showing posts with label vicarious experience. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vicarious experience. Show all posts

Monday, 16 April 2012

Other uses for newspapers...


Today's post for my A to Z Challenge, is dedicated to N for Newspapers.

Don't laugh, but I collect newspaper clippings of stories that grip my attention, for the purpose of using them as inspiration in my stories. 

Over the years, the clippings have accumulated to a rather mighty mass of drama and scandal...


The biggest benefit of these clippings, for me, are the finer details. For instance, how many months pass between a crime and it's trial? Or what might a defence lawyer have to say about a particularly despicable client (they usually speak about the criminal's state of mind or mitigating circumstances, which could be good for fleshing out a nasty character, perhaps)? What happens at inquests for unexplained deaths? 

I also like to read witness comments on incidents; they really paint a picture for you. The options are endless and I'm sure you could spend hours poring over the stories, should you feel so inclined.

If you like to read newspapers online, here's a great link to an abundance of free publications (and limitless potential for stories!) for London Newspapers (you can skip the registration: I don't bother registering).

Would anyone else like to admit their hoarding habits? Come on... don't leave me hanging!

Today's N music video is for November Rain, by Guns N' Roses. An exceptional display of musical genius.








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Thursday, 20 October 2011

Oh The Humanity


*Warning: Contains Disturbing Content.  And Much Angst.*





Today, I was listening to a podcast “Genres in Children’s Literature - Dealing with Social Issues in Realistic Fiction” (by La Trobe University) and it was talking about defining limits for Children’s Fiction, in relation to their emotional maturity. 

The podcast was quite timely for me, due to the book I’m reading at the moment (Micka, by Frances Kay).  I’m starting to think there should be defining limits for adults too!

I’m so traumatised.  I’m only half way through the book and stumbled across a scene where my 10 year old protagonist is raped by his big brother.  There was no previous build up to allude to this happening or anything (although I doubt that would even have softened the blow) and I know I sound oversensitive here, but it’s bloody affected me. 

If I’d known it was going to contain such disturbing scenes, I wouldn’t have taken it out of the library.  I know all the supermarket shelves are stocked high with books centred round child abuse (why is it so popular?), but it’s just not my bag at all.  Am I destined to remain unsubscribed to any specific genre (all you Harry Potter fans know what I’m talking about)?

My love of books stem from the ability to be absorbed in someone else’s world.  I do like dark storylines, and even intend on writing one for my NaNoWriMo novel, but this crosses my personal threshold. :(

The podcast talks about “Vicarious Experience”, where you feel the real emotion from the story.  I certainly don't claim to be suffering the despair that would befall a victim of child abuse.  I’m certainly in a state of anguish, however, 'cos I know this sort of bile goes on in the real world and my wee brain can’t comprehend it.  I hate this pishy world sometimes. 
I'm not taking anything away from the writing talent, neither am I writing a book review.  Of course, I need to finish the book.  I’m reluctantly gripped, and will only be satisfied with the story as a whole, if it ends with the big brother being slowly castrated, dying a slow and painful death (although it still wouldn't be enough retribution).

What are your boundaries?  Anyone else think there should be some kind of forewarning on books with such disturbing content?

On a happier note (I think), here is a brief synopsis of my NaNoWriMo novel, titled The Caretaker. :)
When a car crash leaves Harry crippled and his mistress dead, his previously idyllic world collapses around him.

He seeks forgiveness from his devastated wife, Wendy, who agrees to give up her teaching job to take care of him. Can she bring herself to trust him again? Or does she succumb to the advances of the school's Caretaker; so desperate to be someone's first choice again?

The mistress haunts them both, in more ways than one.

Experience the turmoil of both sides of the coin, in this tragic tale about the fragility of trust.

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