I wrote this for you girl. It’s about Drake!

Consider the Artist as an Empty Vessel

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Among the several foundational concepts to creative writing is the rule that a writer should always strive to “show, not tell.” The form doesn’t matter. It can be for the big screen, the small screen, the stage, a community blackbox, or even around the campfire, as long as it follows that rule.

The logic behind it seems simple enough. When crafting a narrative, the audience’s reaction will be as pronounced as the strength of the story’s execution; and one of the most efficient ways to pull an emotional response from the audience—to hook them for good—is to make them truly feel. About a character, a plot element, a setting, a lamp, once again it doesn’t matter; the imperative is that you get them to feel.

That’s where the adage plays a critical role. People throw the word “immersive” around a lot, but the great stories—and the great storytellers—have fine-tuned the ability to flood your senses with the richness and depth of a fully-realized world. The great ones stay away from just relaying the brass tacks of the narrative. That’s why when you’re reading, watching, or listening to something truly great, you’re not just reading words on a page or watching moving images and so on and so forth. You have taken that step forward and are imagining and constructing everything as you read or listen to it.

This rule extends to all types of creative media (or art, if you are so inclined), and more importantly, it does not only belong within the frame of the standard definition of a story—it doesn’t need to be an A to B to C plot. Even when attempting to convey a small, singular thought, opinion or emotion, it is just as essential to draw the audience in.

It is also one of the reasons why, I think, music is capable of being the best form when it comes to showing, and not telling. Music is heightened storytelling. It’s much easier to reach an individual through this form than any other because of the staggering level of intimacy it demands between the artist and the listener. It has the ability to reach inside of you and fester forever—just think of the songs and albums you listened to months, or years or possibly even decades ago, and still stick with you to this day. Hell, the entire concept of nostalgia is largely arrived at through music, just ask Cameron Crowe. And it certainly doesn’t matter what type of music you prefer; whether it is high-brow or trash-minded, it has that command over you.

And in many ways, it is also the most authentic form of storytelling. There is no screen, no frame, no page, and in a lot of cases not even fictional characters, to dim the experience—just an artist baring his or her soul out to you, in the privacy of your room or the shared privacy of a venue.

Which brings us to Drake—hip-hop’s prima ballerina.

Read the rest here.

I will begin this again…

I swear! I know I’ve thrown this on the back back back back back-burner. In fact, it probably doesn’t even feel like it’s on any burner. And you know what, that’s a very accurate assessment, dear reader who probably doesn’t exist (I say probably because I need that ounce of hope that you do, otherwise… let’s not get into this tangent).

But back to the main thought at hand. I WILL GET BACK ON THIS TRAIN. I AIN’T LYIN’ GIRL!

But first let me do this other thing…

COMMUNITY Cast Goes the Way of ANIMAL HOUSE

reelsnarky:

And I obviously love it.

(photo via Entertainment Weekly)

Fuck this synopsis

Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close tells the story of one young boy’s journey from heartbreaking loss to the healing power of self-discovery, set against the backdrop of the tragicevents of September 11. Eleven-year-old Oskar Schell is an exceptional child: amateur inventor, Francophile, pacifist. And after finding a mysterious key that belonged to his father, who died in the World Trade Center on 9/11, he embarks on an exceptional journey—an urgent, secret search through the five boroughs of New York. As Oskar roams the city, he encounters a motley assortment of humanity, who are all survivors in their own ways. Ultimately, Oskar’s journey ends where it began, but with the solace of that most human experience: love.

For the inevitable box office success, “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.” High-fives all around for using 9/11 as an emotional manipulator.