The Ometon's Secret
I enjoy writing.
You may not have known that about me. You probably do not know a lot about me, and that is the way I prefer it. Here on Rainbow Resort, I mostly supply underlying support code for the site. It is easy to forget that one of my first ventures here (since I've had so many in such a short time) was, in fact, the Storybook.
Admittedly, Wander Across Total Oblivion was not a collegiate-level masterwork, but it wasn't meant to be. The craft of storytelling is so many times lost in the written word. All too often, an author is concerned with how they are writing instead of what. More often, they fail in both respects, especially on this great wide web of ours.
I have even took part in writing competitions when I was younger. Granted, most things wound up going to things that were "cute" and made all of the middle-aged parents who happened to be judges giggle and fawn, but still I wrote. It must be an alien concept to people nowadays; get a subject, and write a short piece of fiction within a time limit. (And this is "by hand" and "legibly," too, due to these events' distance in the past.) This mattered little, however, for I was in it for the craft: word selection, word play, cadence, rhythm, and skillfully twisting the many facets of our obtuse language so that one's audience does a double-take before fully grasping the layered meaning of a sentence -- that is writing. More importantly, that is only writing -- something unique to this medium.
Some of my favorite reading includes folklore. It is the one and true way to tell a story. These oral traditions can range from covering the most mundane or repetitive topics, yet still draw in their audience. Tellers of old received instant and honest feedback, not blanket praise and undeserved acceptance. The pacing and dynamic and devices used made an enjoyable experience for all.
Enjoyable. A story meant to be enjoyed. Not relating how omnipotent a power or epic an apocalyptic struggle -- just a good story.
The charm of the storyteller cannot be as easily translated into black lines on a white background. Authors try to use these two colors to paint the minutia of every detail into their written works, instead rendering a bloated, immobile monster which can only be surmounted with great effort. Just as a bard's speech, the words should flow to their audience -- not attack them.
The method of delivery has changed from spoken to written word, but it is still very much possible not to drag a tale down with detail. The words with which one writes give a voice; they are a tone which can be used to rouse the reader. The lazy author will simply tell the reader how they should feel, despite not investing them emotionally even the slightest in a story. In addition, the words themselves are a bore. All too often does an author rely on a limited vocabulary and repetition.
I liken this new approach to "writing" as though an author is describing a television show, not telling a tale: no frills, no technique, no device, no emotion. Whatever is seen or heard on this screen in the author's mind slops its way down to his or her fingertips and is put forth cold and emotionlessly.
This is not cinematic form, however; it is literary.
No one today can understand the difference. There are things which work in one and not the other. Reluctant writers want to make video, but lack the resources. They do not have actors or animators, but they have ideas -- regardless of what quality they may be. This is proven by the sheer number of movie makers on the internet now, and why wouldn't there be? Talent is apparently a recommendation. The internet would much rather watch than read, at any rate. That first T in Hyper Text Transfer Protocol at the start of every URL in your web browser means nothing, apparently.
Here's the problem: not everyone is capable of making movies. And if the internet has proven anything, it is that most simply cannot make them. So why do the masses plop themselves in front of a monitor and stream the umpteenth web show about the same tired video game observations?
People cannot read.
Sure, they can string together letters to form words and words into sentences, but not much more than that. People online are bored easily. Why find out for yourself what someone else can tell you? seems to be the mentality and unfortunate reality. Any sort of intelligence or skill or craft applied to the written word is mostly lost. The masses will skim, misinterpret, and get indignant if what few parts they saw did not involve video games -- or at least the games they personally like.
People cannot read. And because of this, they cannot write. And they do not want to write. However, they do not possess a camera or a cracked version of Flash or simply lack the patience to use it, and so they write. How is an author expected to write a good story if they cannot understand what one is? Quite simple: they won't. They will transcribe the movie they see in their head with all the eloquence and flair of a courtroom stenographer. It gets the images across, crude and rigid unless one possesses a similarly disinclined mind; it conveys none of the feeling and allows no interpretation. The words trudge through, describing frame by painstaking frame.
Writing is the one thing anyone online can do. All one needs is a keyboard; using it properly is another matter. From my experiences, people have become comfortable in the robotic monotony -- they prefer it. If they see anything break their own little predictable mold, they are taken aback. They want the paint-by-numbers approach, they want all thought on their part removed, they want all surprises to be picked from a big sack with the letters "SWERVES" sewn onto the side. Between the repetition and the he saids are wedged a hodge-podge of every cliché in literary history. Apparently, it is only new authors' duty to use them in combinations never before seen.
Yes, Sturgeon's Law is in full effect for writing. It was originally revealed against fiction, so why should the internet be any exception? It is not even professional writing; taking income out of the equation should certainly lower the quality.
My problem isn't that people do not write well; it is that they are praised for being awful. And it isn't terribly difficult to improve up to a passable grade, either. The most droll and devoid of creativity infect the internet, and they have even begun to taint my most cherished method of the stuff.