THEĀ āWITHOUT FAILā TAG āĀ List five things that you, WITHOUT FAIL, weave into or explore in your stories, whether it be specific themes or tropes, character archetypes, allusions to other literary works, what have you! It really can be anything that you consistently include in your narratives for whatever reason. Then invite others to share theirs by tagging them!
I was tagged by @deadlymodern - thank you so much for tagging me, this tag is amazingĀ and I loved reading your answers! I can tell you have a very thorough approach to your writing & themes, itās so cool!
(tagging people at the bottom of the post if you want to skip)
1. flowers, skies & words
grouping them together since they're all related to a wider, general literary device: symbols and allegories in my stories. Without fail, Iāll always use flower symbolism to evoke certain themes, places, characters... withered petals for death, blossoms for youth, you name it, itās probably been in one of my stories. just consider my main WIPās title, The Grave of RosesĀ (Le Tombeau des Roses). Itās a little basic, and has been used time and time before in literature, but I still love it.
Other elements that often make it into my stories as symbols are planes (because I love aviation obviously, but also as a symbol of breaking free, independence, of manās domination on mortality, what with having tamed the skies, but also his frail condition and how everything hangs on a thread). Also, the sky is pretty.
And lastly, words, stories, novels always have their place in my stories, and more often than not one of my characters is a writer, or someone who uses words and stories as some kind of comfort, outlet, or a driving force.
At its [the tombstone] foot, below the name, red roses piled up, enough of them to cover ten graves. A single vermilion bud, a wind-swept poppy, clashed with the rest of the bouquet, and Samuel knew that it was William's children who had placed it there. Only they knew that he didn't even like roses anymore, and that he would come to lay poppies on his father's memorial every time he returned to London...
The tomb was both smaller and prettier than Samuel imagined, less opulent than England would have wanted to give its precious child. The morning sun, like a caress, illuminated the epitaph, a Latin verse that Samuel had known in the past. āBury me southward,ā he heard William say so clearly that he almost turned around, "so that I can look at England and France in the same breath." His name, however, was drenched in full light, facing east, and inexplicably this saddened Samuel.
āAnd there it is... it's pretty, don't you think? I don't know if he would have liked it... You probably know it better than I do...ā
āAnd why do you care about that, huh? You don't even believe in God.ā āHe's a writer. He believes in symbols.ā āHe believes in vanity, alright.ā
āI think he would have liked it anyway,ā he nodded in agreement, his eyes glued to the lonely poppy. (Translation)
2. parental roughnesses
this was bound to come, because I feel like we were all pretty fucked up at some point in our lives from our upbringing. I didnāt go for straight upĀ āparental issuesā because I donāt deal with like, abusive or absent parents or anything, just complicated relationships between parents and their children, but who still love each other. Oftentimes it has to do with one of the children idealizing the heck out of their parent and slowly realizing that they make mistakes and are not a hero at all, and/or unmeetable expectations and parental pressure. but itās not like Iām projecting or anything lol
āYou never knew Father, William,ā Grace stopped him immediately [...]. āDon't you dare pretend you know what it's like.ā
āGrowing up without a father is not necessarily better than losing him in childhood! Everyone here has suffered from his disappearance, Grace. You have no idea how much I miss him, despite never meeting him. But that's all in the past now. And there's no reason for there to be another war.ā
āOf course there is!ā she retorted ferociously, despite the tears spilling from her eyes. āOf course there is, and they're going to send you there like Father, and you'll want to play hero like Father, and then you'll get shot down like a dog! Where's it going to be this time, huh? Above Luxembourg, just like him, or maybe somewhere in your beloved France?ā (Translation)
3. patriotism
One way or another, all my stories always deal with patriotism, nationalism, pride in oneās country and more broadly speaking oneās relationship to it. It questions what it means to belong to a country, to share one culture, one language; does it justify acting in the benefit of oneās country, and where do you draw the line before you intentionnally harm othersā; what evenĀ is a country, a nationality, and it what sense do you belongĀ to one, and what do you owe it, if you even owe it anything? Is it wrong or right to feel love and attachment to your place of origin? And what does it mean to fight for your country, for its values, for its people? & other things of the like. It probably stems from my own experience as a binational person; growing up, I was always asked stuff likeĀ ābut who do you root for in a football gameāĀ ābut are you like really French or not?āĀ āif Spain and France got into a war what would you do?ā, and this all lead me to question āam I more French or am I more Spanish - which one am I, and which one would others perceive me to be - do I need to pick a side? And how can I express my affection to these places that raised me both differently, without undermining the other - or others? can I still be proud of my heritage given the horrors my countries have committed in the past?ā. I still havenāt found a definitive answer, so my writing is just me throwing trails out to the world and hoping Iāll figure it out someday. thatās why my stories often have a war setting; firstly I just love historical fiction, and secondly itās the perfect backdrop for all these questions to unfold.
William laughed at the idea - he, a true Frenchman! It was a very silly thought. He may have loved what he had seen of Charlotte's country, but England was not to be ashamed of any other land, for it was the only one he would love until his last breath. (Translation.)
4. just a hint of supernatural
I love me a good ghost story, and Iām a fan of everything spooky, but whatās subtly spooky, and not the gory, in-your-face horror. This particular theme may have increased since I sawĀ The Haunting of Hill HouseĀ which completely OBLITERATED ME with how it uses the house and its ghosts to tell a story of family and trauma and memories... but Iāve loved ghost stories forever. Another piece that truly resonated with me was One Hundred Years of Solitude (Cien aƱos de soledad) by Gabriel GarcĆa MĆ”rquez. It was my first dive into the world of magical realism and I didnāt make it out of there the same person I was when I entered. This one is not necessarily included in every piece without fail, because some are just too anchored in reality, but if itās not a straight-up spirit or an otherworldly creature, Iāll always find a way to include an aspect of superstition, a myth, a legend, a tale from faraway that is neither proved nor disproved throughout the story. It truly adds to the atmosphere of the world, even in a very realistic and gritty setting, I believe.
I hear murmurs of legends among the soldiers. [...] One of those stories caught my attention, I must admit... It is not very special, nothing more than a children's tale, but I thought it was beautiful enough to please your Romantic soul. Some pilots speak of a cemetery, somewhere in the countryside north of London, which has something mystical about it, lost in the flowers that sway as far as the eye can see, in the calm rhythm of the wind, wrapped in the heady scent of eternal spring, and where the bravest warriors would go to rest forever, tired of their exploits and the continual explosions. No one knows exactly where it is or what to do to be buried there, but this beautiful image simply floats like a dream in the minds of many and, I confess, in mine as well since I first heard about it.
It is said that there only flowers dare to disturb the heroes in their sleep... This fragment of silence is called the Grave of the Roses.
So if I were to leave you, if you were to hear that I am gone...
With a bit of luck, that is where you will find me.
5. love
this one is broader and less obvious than you might think. Of course, Iāll always, alwaysĀ implement an element of romance to my story (and more often than not itās angsty with star-crossed lovers or insurmountable obstacles or forbidden romances and whatnot), but thereās more to it. I donāt think I have ever written a story that is entirely grim and bleak, simply because I do not believe the world is built like that. Iāve said time and time again that love is my favorite thing in the world, and I believe it is the force that drives us all forward and connects us all together; love is, to me, the truest power of humanity, and its inherent purpose. And love covers all subjects and all types of relationships, but my absolute favorite ways to explore and show loveĀ in my stories is through long-lasting, rock-solid friendships (because friendships are often overlooked both in fiction and real life), and just a grandiose love letter to humanity as a whole. Iām an optimist, and many people who have suffered more than I have would deem me naive for thinking this - and I cannot blame them -, but as Anne Frank put it more bravely than I ever could,Ā ādespite everything, I still think humans are good at heartā. My stories are always born out of love and made for love. For the love of humanity and kindness and literature and love of myself, too, because sometimes I just like rereading the words and thinking,Ā āwow, Iāve made it this far. look at me go.ā In a word, yes, I would say that is what it boils down to; my work, but also what I hope my entire life and being will be. An ode to love.
āHe admired you and truly loved you, you know. You were a good leader, I'm sure, and a good friend, above all.ā
He thought she was going to put her hand on his shoulder, and prepared to bend to avoid it, but instead she came to rest on the polished marble of the tomb, which was already beginning to erode at the corners. The soft light bathed her hand, and Samuel's on the other corner, still resting above William's surname, the only thing he had been proud of from beginning to end.
āAnd I loved him too. I loved them all. If you only knew...ā
well, I got carried away, as I always do when talking about my writing, but it made me miss it so much. I havenāt worked on any of my projects since literally October and Iām feeling the void rn. anyway, thank you again for enabling me to ramble about what I love most, Thais! and Iām tagging @softeninglooks, @lxncelot, @myriadimaginesā, @swanimagines &Ā @randomfandomimagine + plus any writer who wants to talk about their marvelous work <3
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Hi! For the WIP Guessing game, how about "dark" and "whisper"? š
William looked down at what had piqued his sisterās interest. Dark-skinned Samuel, standing one step closer to the lens than the other three, dignified and stoic.Ā ā The Grave of Roses, Chapter 7 (Translation)
He would have enjoyed the attention had it been unambiguous, and more overt. In this forest of whispers and damp vapor, William felt like a cardboard idol, as though he radiated a fake light that fooled no one.Ā ā The Grave of Roses, Chapter 8 (Translation)
āYou a flyboy, aināt you?āĀ exclaimed the policeman after a quick look at his uniform.Ā āWe could use a hand. Might be overwhelmed. You hoppinā in? Itās Wembley.ā
Wembley, steaming with its factories and its soot, of which Brian sometimes spoke with sincere sadness... His tiredness driven away by a heaving courage, William turned to Charlotte.
āItās a long way from here, especially with the Tube not working.ā
āIām used to walking. I can manage.ā
āIām sure you will.āĀ (Then, in a lower tone, less glib:) Be careful. It may not be all over.ā
āOf course. Iām used to it,āĀ she reiterated, and he understood from her absent look how tired she was.
He handed her the copy of his keys. As she walked towards Westminster, William tried to stop her with a wave of the hand, changed his mind, and finally called out to her one last time.
āI'm proud of you, Charlotte.ā
She stared at him for a few moments, her neutral face awfully haunted, and he was certain she would answer that there was no reason to be. Instead, she nodded thoughtfully, stuck her hands in her coat pockets, and went on her way. As William got into the police car, he could still hear the clattering of her heels on the tar; then the wheezing engine engulfed it, and they sped off north.
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āIt was the first time he had written since the beginning of the war; yet all he could muster was an immensely weary smile. He hid the page under the books on his desk.āĀ ā The Grave of Roses, Chapter 9 (Translation)
āIt wasn't until an hour later, when William fell asleep in his chair, his trusty chair, his temple against the machine scribing endless spaces, that the world slipped into emptiness again. The night had been suspended in the air. Apnea closed in on London.ā ā The Grave of Roses, Chapter 8 (Translation)
Amazing group of individuals - Los Terapeutas del Ritmo came all the way from Peru to be with us at Boston GreenFest 2014.Ā They brought many sustainable ideas back to Peru.Ā Time to share music and knowledge across the globe.Ā A musical group with brains and a heart!Ā Check their facebook - they are working to save the Amazon a small piece at a time.
On far right, artist George Sabra - creator of the tree people sculptures at Boston GreenFest.Ā Hope you had a chance to see the art and feel the music!
Next to George is Silvia de la Sota, owner of Aguacate Verde, Peruvian restaurant in Somerville - came out to greet her fellow Peruvians!
Amigos compartimos la satisfacciĆ³n de apadrinar 9 Hectareas de nuestro hermoso bosque amazĆ³nico en Madre de Dios y los invitamos a unirse a esta gran y causa. Futuro verde para nuestras familias! visiten: www.arbioperu.org y apoyen! - click on this link to help save some of the Amazon...keep the future green for our families.
