A North Korean book on the history of Old Joson? On a scale of 1 to Worker’s Paradise how cringy is this going to be?
A lot of dodginess going on here, as expected. There’s the fact that the whole framework of history seems to have been shoehorned into historical materialism, in fact I’m pretty sure North Korean scholars can’t make historical output that strays from that dogma.
There’s also the equation of the Chinese hanja character hwan (桓, strong) with the Korean root hwan (환, bright), which I hadn’t come across before and is interesting. The extrapolation doesn’t follow the best linguistic practice of comparing records and usages to come to the conclusion, though. This makes me wary because I’ve seen far too many outlandish linguistic claims made without basis, though at least the claim here is more modest. I still dislike the way this comparison just jumped to the conclusion without showing the work, though. Not to say anyone has to reinvent the wheel every time they make a point, maybe that work has already been done by historical linguists in North Korea (and here in the South for all I know), but in that case I would expect a citation and, preferably, at least a recap of the main sources and steps taken to reach that conclusion.
The equation of hwan (桓) with dan (檀, birch) seems to have support from the records so at least it seems more trustworthy, but again, there are not enough indications of which records use them interchangeably, or citations to indicate where that comparison has been made. I would have preferred direct quotes in the text, too. This level of work simply would not pass muster for any serious scholarly publication here.
Another potentially interesting claim, made unserious and unreliable by lack of sources and process: The claim that the Chinese name for proto-Koreanic peoples (or one group of them, it’s been in flux), maek (貊, Northern People), comes from baek (百, hundred) which in turn derives from the Korean root bak (박, bright). Maybe it’s not a wildly out-there claim, but I’m not believing it until I see it confirmed with much better and transparent work.
Also did they just push the founding of Old Joson forward by almost THREE THOUSAND YEARS, from 2333 BC to 5011 BC, give or take 267 years they say, by dating what are claimed to be the founder’s remains? And can carbon dating (or whatever they were using) be that exact? It’s one of those findings that would be groundbreaking if it weren’t for the million warning signs that instantly pop up, starting with my being about 95% sure that this is a cheap ploy for prestige with a specifically political agenda behind it to prop up the regime. Like HOW do you know this is the actual founder of Old Joson, are there textual or other indications of the identity, does the grave match the styles found in the archeological findings of that era? Did this dig even happen? Even if it did, there’s no way I trust the claims at all without independent verification–not easy when it comes from North Korea where there is zero academic freedom or transparency of information.
Still reading on because it’s going on to points that are important to my own work, leading into tribal names, but obviously I can’t fully rely on this work. It’s worth a read as a side reference, but with giant asterisks and question marks all around.
Whenever I hear that writers should “take risks” these days I’m like “how about NO!” because what most people perceive as risks are elements not natural to the story that exist JUST to forcefully write something “different” or refuse to ever let characters be happy or functional. These “risks” have just become annoying and at this point it’s surprising and refreshing if writers DON’T do this.
Seriously. Truly risky and fresh writing doesn’t arise out of trying to be risky, but rather out of going where the story organically takes you without stepping back from the edge out of discomfort. Finn in his original conception is a risky character for SW because he is new for the movies and raises so many questions about humanity and morality. Stepping back from the implications of his character and borking a Stormtrooper uprising like RJ did in TLJ was cowardice. The titty milk alien or Luke’s momentarily-contemplated murder of Ben Solo, on the other hand, are examples of trying way too hard to be clever and subversive.
hey writers if you want to make a metaphor for racism, please maybe remember that racism is literally based on nothing. Africans weren’t enslaved en masse because the Robo-Musa threatened to destroy the world, they were enslaved because it was economically rewarding and politically convenient. If at any point your allegory for racism includes “so <oppressed group> did this major catastrophe and” then you have not only missed the point but you are literally reinforcing the ideas that racism have let racism self-perpetuate (that e.g. black people are naturally dangerous and violent and must be contained or begrudgingly accepted by the Nice White People)
Artsy depression: haunted eyes, good at art, emo hair and eyeliner on point
Actual Depression: bloodshot eyes, no longer trust themselves with pencils, has not showered in five days
Quirky OCD: organized books, clean room, color coordinated outfits
Actual OCD: Intrusive thoughts, flipping the light switch 8 times so you don’t stab your brother, picking holes in your skin
Cute eating disorders: Slim trim and beautiful, shyly refusing a second helping, dancer aesthetic
Actual eating disorders: Puffy cheeks and eroded teeth from excessive vomiting, hair growing over your freezing body and refusing to eat carrots because they’re too high in carbs
Adorable anxiety: just a smol bean, soft, must be protected from the world
Actual anxiety: crying so hard you throw up, shaking, losing sleep over a period after the “okay”
RPG PTSD: flashbacks, vietnam, u don’t know what i’ve been through kiddo
Actual PTSD: Buying your first pregnancy test at twelve, flinching at high fives, i can’t feel my hands where am I what year is it
Cartoon ADHD: look a squirrel, something shiny, fidgety loveable bufoon
Actual ADHD: rereading the same page over and over because it doesn’t make sense, hasn’t done the laundry in four months, hyperfocusing on a mushroom knowing you have work to do
stop making terrifying realities seem cute. it’s disrespectful for those of us who are actually struggling
Fucking preach.
Uwu smol baby autism: adorably awkward, huggable, acts cute when confused, has some sort of rainman talent and a perfect memory in general
Real autism: worrying about whether you’re interpreting people’s cues correctly/making your tone sound correct for the context, or whether they’re about to get wierded out and uncomfortable bc of something you said, sensory issues that drive you nuts, not being able to adapt to sudden changes in plans and freaking out, melting down or shutting down when stressed by stupid things
^
Reblogging for the autism part that is just too real
!!!
Honestly, all of this would make better writing anyway. If we wrote mental illness as it really was, people would be more aware. *sigh* sad how disconnected we are.
Plotter me: Why did you stop in the middle of this scene? This is exciting!
Writer me: They’re just talking.
Plotter me: You write talky scenes all the time! 90 percent of your WIP is dialogue!
Writer me: Do I have to write this part right now?
Plotter me: You always write in chronological order! Which is why every time you get stuck, you don’t touch this thing for weeks! It’s a serious problem!
Writer me: Yeah, I’d ask on a forum, but I don’t actually have anything to resolve. I know how I want this scene to go down.
Plotter me: Exactly! This is a confrontation scene! Remember how excited you were, planning this?
Writer me: Yeah, but there’s no buildup. This is a new character being introduced and a slightly more familiar character saying “I know who you really are” and exposing them. Then they team up.
Plotter me: Exciting!
Writer me: Yeah, but not to write.
Plotter me: [sigh] I guess I should expect this from the guy who opens his book from the perspective of a pack of ACTUAL DRAGONS HUNTING IN THE FOREST and takes forever to even finish the chapter.
Writer me: The prologue is just so much more interesting to me though.
Plotter me: [tearing hair out] In what world is a page of infodumping more exciting than two people talking about a tangled web of alliances?!
Writer me: It’s like, a cool infodump. Like the kind Tolkien wrote. It’s the grandiose worldbuilding stuff. You know we both live for that. Can we skip fourteen chapters ahead to the part where the character I haven’t even introduced yet runs into his best friend who I also haven’t introduced but happens to be the son of one of the characters in this scene, where one character knows something the other one doesn’t and there’s a huge confrontation?
Plotter me: [banging head on desk]
Writer me: What? That one’s more exciting. There’s shouting and running away in it. And a perceived betrayal that absolutely devastates that character I haven’t introduced. You know he’s my favorite. Come on. Can we skip to that one?
Plotter me: Forget it. Let’s work on our Star Wars knockoff until you feel ready to come back to this.
Writer me: Yippee!
[later]
Plotter me: YOU HAVE SEVEN BLANK CHAPTERS WITH NOTES LIKE “ANOTHER JANGO FLASHBACK” and “SCENE WHERE THEY TRY TO KILL PALPATINE AND HARDEEN IS REVEALED TO BE OBI-WAN”! YOU WANTED TO WRITE THAT OBI-WAN SCENE SO BAD!
Writer me: Yeah but I really want to get to Darth Maaaaaaaaaaul and the Original Trilogy eraaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Plotter me: How are you ever going to get published
Writer me: Chillax. My MAIN WIP will be a labor of several years and I won’t publish it until all the books in it are done. Until then I’ll just write one-offs and publish those.
Plotter me: You mean one-offs like this one, or the five other one-offs you’re only twenty pages into?
Writer me: Oh.
Writer me: …I see your point.
Writer me: Maybe I should write songs instead?
Plotter me: YOU CAN’T WRITE MELODIES.
Writer me: Yeah but I have a few decent lyrics…
Plotter me: No more listening to concerts on YouTube while you work. You’re not going to be the next Ed Sheeran.
Remember my post on the word ‘take?’ ‘Take’ is a weak word, but it isn’t the only one.
Compare these:
He ate the sandwich
She walked towards the lake.
The book smelled good.
to these:
He devoured the sandwich
She strolled towards the lake.
The book smelled magical.
Which sentences are more engaging? The latter ones. Why? Because devoured and strolled are stronger words than ate and walked. They’re more specific. They give you more information. To get across the same information with ate and walked, you’d have to add more words: she walked slowly, he ate quickly.
Replacing good with magical doesn’t work quite as well as the verbs, but magical does tell us slightly more than good: it gives us a better sense of how the smell makes the character feel.
How do you spot a weak word? Weak words are vague. They’re umbrella terms. They need support from other words to really get their meaning across. If you find yourself adding adverbs and adjectives to a term, question whether or not there’s a more concise way to get your point across.
Strong word choice, however, isn’t all that’s needed for a good description:
2. Be as specific as required.
This isn’t to say you should describe everything in every scene in perfect detail, but being specific matters.
Which is more engaging?
He devoured the sandwich
The book smelled magical.
or
He devouredthe sandwich, stopping only to lick up the melted cheese that seeped through his fingers and ran down his palm.
The book smelled magical, like a sunlit afternoon.
Again, the latter ones. They take you into the scene. They evoke the senses. It’s the difference between telling and showing. Devoured is a strong verb, but it doesn’t give us a clear image of what is happening. Showing the character licking away the cheese gives the reader a sense of the desperation and hunger of the action. Evoking a sunlit afternoon is evoking your reader’s memories of their own sunny afternoons.These examples are statements with evidence. They provide details.
You want to invite your reader into the scene, not give them a summary of the events.
Additionally, specifics make the world feel real. They convince readers that the world actually exists. They keep the story in your readers’ minds once they’ve finished reading.
This being said, don’t pull a GRRM and describe every meal your characters eat. Some things just aren’t that important. There are occasions when it’s okay to tell instead of show.
3. Remember the point of view.
Who is giving the description?
If you’re writing in 1st person or 3rd person limited, remember how your character feels about what you’re describing. If you’re describing a strawberry field, a person who was raised on a strawberry farm is going to see it differently than someone who is deathly allergic to strawberries, who is going to see it differently from a Beatles fanatic.
Maybe the Beatles fanatic is deathly allergic to strawberries and this field brings up a whole bucketful of conflicting emotions.
Which is all to say:
Good descriptions reveal character as well as scene.
If this description is coming from a character’s point of view: what is that point of view? What is this scene making your character feel? Don’t let your narrator slip away from the page.
This connects to my last point.
4. Remember why you’re including it.
Novel writing is persuasive writing. It’s an exercise in persuading your reader that your story is true, that your characters are real people. It’s an exercise in persuading your readers to feel what you want them to feel.
(There’s a well-known quote about this somewhere, but I can’t remember it exactly.)
Every description must add to the story.It should be doing something: working for some larger goal, advancing the plot, revealing character.
Maybe you’re describing a house because you want your reader to see why your character doesn’t want to move.
Maybe you’re describing this lovely-smelling book because you want the reader to know that it’s important to the character. That her favorite memories are of reading it in the attic of her grandmother’s house.
When you’re writing out a description, identify its purpose and make sure it fulfils it.
It’s okay if at first you don’t know how the house makes the character feel, or if she’s running or strolling towards the lake, or why the book is so important. Sometimes you just know it’s there. That something happened. Usually things become clearer as you write further and get to know the story and characters yourself.
Once you do know what you’re trying to say with your story, make sure you say it with every chapter, every description, and every word.
Give me simplicity and clarity in storytelling every time. Clever and complicated tales have their place, but 9 times out of 10 the stories that resonate and stand the test of time will be the ones that that stick to the basics, that build relatable characters and the world they inhabit, that follow through on conflicts and setups without trying to shock or impress. Simpler, clearer stories will even be more profound most times in handling serious real-world subjects than tryhard works; their depth arise organically from the characters and the unfolding of the narrative, not from the creators preaching at the audience. We’d really gain a lot from writers being less interested in showing off their brilliance and engaging more passionately with the characters, their relationships, and their world.