#there is very specific imagery i hope to capture when i write a certain scene in this fic >:)

[merakiui]

I am so normal about a crocodile's dilemma (lies) and it does not live in my head rent free (more lies)

AAAAAA OTL this is the story that will shatter poor Riddle. CD!Riddle experiences the worst time of his life in this plot. The goal is to write a story so excruciating that it prompts tears. >_< or some sort of visceral emotion. Nothing but suffering for Dr. Rosehearts.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

on a very random note (and hope you don't mind me talking about it ^^;), I do think Studio Bones is doing a great job at adapting Season 4 and I'm really enjoying it!

Though sometimes, I wish that they didn't omit some manga panels because it makes me a little sad that the weight of certain moments is taken away:

Exhibit A: Dazai laughing at Chuuya's impression

Exhibit B: Chuuya talking about Dazai leaving the mafia

Exhibit C: Dazai getting arrested

Exhibit D: Ango visiting Odasaku's grave

and the last one because this moment destroyed me when I read the manga and cause he's my personal favorite:

Exhibit E: Rampo facing Mushitarou on his own

genuinely, I'm really enjoying the adaptation right now and it's not that I don't appreciate the effort put into this <33

And it's true, these are minor manga panels so it wouldn't be too much to change or discard it and yet in taking away such minor panels, it also takes away the grand depth and complexity of what the characters are thinking and feeling in those moments.

It takes away the weight of the scene.

And that's the thing, bsd is a series that has so many complex characters with intricate dynamics, thoughts and moralities that it's a little bittersweet to know that the anime falls short sometimes when capturing certain moments and deprives us of the struggles, humanity and genuineness that these characters have and are going through.

again, nothing against Studio Bones but I often think of the things that could have been :<<

@langdahling

Hey you two! First off, I want to apologize for the huge delay. I was trying to think of what to say in response and I think I always make responding to asks way more work than they ought to be...

But anyways. Here are my general thoughts on the BSD anime, which I'm probably only going to elaborate on here once, and then drop it.

I enjoy the anime, really I do. But it's strange to think how drastic the difference is in the way the characters are interpreted between those who have only seen the anime and those who have also read the manga (and perhaps also the light novels).

First off, let's go over what the anime does well, since I want to ensure we're appreciating what is still a lot of effort from everyone in that studio. Animation, and all the things that need to happen to get a show off the ground, is not easy. Here are some things that stand out to me:

Those backgrounds: you know what I'm talking about. The stained glass, the sunsets, the city shots, the imagery. Beautiful, stunning work honestly.

Use of imagery and clever animation choices: there are some things that are going to change by necessity when adapting from page to screen. The clever animation teams will use this to their advantage - I don't think Bones always does this effectively, but when they do... oh man, is it ever good. I, for one, really liked the kind of projector effect over Dazai's farewell to Chuuya in s5.

Use of colour and light: go back through any scene and pay attention to who has what colours and the way the lighting is positioned. Again, these are those smart animation choices I was talking about.

The music: Score's really good. I wish the music was used a little more consistently (there's some weird choices made... why Wake Up Call for the Tachihara fight???) but the music itself is catchy and sets a good tone.

The voice acting: It's so good. See, even when I wasn't convinced about how the scenes were going to be framed, I never doubted the voice actors would carry it. (I'm talking about the Japanese actors here specifically, but the English dub is pretty good too... sorry I can't speak on any other dubs though...) I really love Kyouka's seiyuu (Morohoshi Sumire) and the way her voice takes on more inflection through the series as Kyouka comes into her own especially.

The abilities and the use of writing: Love the way the abilities are animated. And the use of text to emphasize character intros and key scenes was always good, but I legitimately freaked out when they used it for the Page's narration over Nikolai's speech in Season 4 - good! artistic! choices!

And we're lucky enough to have an adaptation that follows the major plot beats pretty much to the letter! ...so. Why does it tend to disappoint fans of the manga so often?

Well I know a lot of people have their opinions on it. owlyflufff I agree with you - the exclusion of certain panels make for very odd characterization choices - as in, it totally changes the context of the scene and what the character might be thinking. See Exhibits A through C for the best examples. For Exhibits D and E, I personally feel that we got enough in the scene to draw the same conclusions about motive and intent, but that Ango panel... oof it hurts so much. I'm ok with the Dark Era flashbacks personally though: same character motive, just with different artistic interpretation.

langdahling, you're also right though. Pivotal emotional moments aside, I feel a lot of shows (not just BSD) don't know how to let their characters breathe. Pacing is a huge issue in a lot of things I find. You have to let us know who these characters are. Let the characters breathe, and give us, the audience, time to breathe with the characters. It's important. It's really important. It's something the manga does well - it's endearing. Every character gets a little endearing, silly moment. This is necessary for a series that is fundamentally about humanizing its cast.

As for my own opinion on what the adaptation lacks... well, I have a bit of an interesting view because both my mom and I actually watch this show. I, as you all know, am a deranged little weirdo about it who has literally gone through everything BSD I could find and inserted it directly into my brain cells. My mom, on the other hand, has only seen the anime, but is privy to other information about the series um. Because I talk about it non-stop (sorry mom). I happened to be visiting her when season 4 started airing and we watched the first little bit together - the Untold Origins adaptation. To be clear - this adaptation was good. I think it was probably the best after Dark Era. But. My mom turns and looks at me at the scene where Ranpo breaks down shortly before Fukuzawa lies about him having an ability (because I've told her the rough summary of it before) and says "I don't think Ranpo's desperation came across". She said it felt like a breakdown, sure, but it's not the same as the pent-up frustration and fear that was made so incredibly clear in the novel. She said if I hadn't explained that Fukuzawa realized it was kind of his last chance to reach Ranpo, that he had to do something to save this kid, that she would've been left completely bewildered as to why Fukuzawa would tell him such a massive lie. (Never mind the exclusion of his parents, which was why nothing but a lie would work but I digress...) This happened later in the series too. Kunikida was given a prolonged fish-eye closeup through Jouno's entire speech about his ideals instead of the balloon symbolism used in the manga (literally one of the most baffling changes to me - I don't really feel any which way about the fish eyes in general, but imo doing any kind of prolonged like 20 second close up of one character's face during what is a pivotal moment for them is uh... a weird, if not outright poor, animation choice). Poor Akutagawa's death scene being... like that. He dies with grace! He DIES WITH GRACE! That's important!!! He made a choice and was satisfied!!! For all of the Bones and Asagiri Dazai favouritism, he's probably one of the worst examples of watered down emotion - it's no wonder so many people mischaracterize him. Why is he smiling when Jouno arrests him? Why does he look unbothered when he realizes Chuuya's been vampirized? Where is the scene after Q attacks where he conflictedly realizes he'll have to resort to underhanded tactics to win??? Thank god for Miyano Mamoru and his voice acting because otherwise. Geez. And then Sigma. Oh my god. You need that scene where he helps the casino guest. That's his first scene. They condensed his backstory. Sigma's entire character was watered down. And I knew it was going to be before I even watched Sky Casino arc, because this is the core problem I have with the anime in general -

There is a lack of desperation. And it comes, primarily, from the watering down of intense, pivotal moments, and then, the removal of some of the more lighthearted or kind scenes in favour of getting quickly to the action.

I feel that contrast is what's necessary to give these emotional beats weight. And often... it just doesn't hit. It's odd to me, as imo one of the core themes of BSD is desperation. Every character has this desperation at their core - a desperation to succeed, a desperation to live, not having a reason to live and being desperate to find it. It's all desperation - and this really, really does not come across well in the anime. Not consistently. I think the most egregious example is the Sky Casino arc. Both Sigma and Teruko are just as desperate as each other. Teruko stopping the plane was not a guarantee but a play on her part that could very well have resulted in her death. There's heavy implication the bones in her arms shattered in the manga. Her and Tachihara had to take a quick breather after it. That's not in the anime. Sigma's backstory being condensed does a great disservice to explaining why he is so desperate to save the casino - I felt we were primarily told rather than shown. And so the Sky Casino arc, with desperation at its core... was underwhelming. As I figured it would be before it even came out, as the anime already had a history of cutting details out, rushing through the build up, and making odd artistic choices that dampen the emotion of said pivotal scenes. It sucks, really.

And while it's fun to get two seasons in one year, I find myself very, very worried on behalf of the animators and the workers in that studio. I would've been happy to have two in one year... if I thought they were at all prepared for it. But I don't think they were. Season 5 feels very rushed and I know I'm not the only one who's said this. Makes me worried for the pressure everyone's under to churn this out so quickly.

In the end, I rationalize most adaptations of anything as having two (or multiple!) cakes. The BSD anime is enjoyable! And fun! I love seeing my little guys walk and talk and use their cool powers. It's a completely different experience to the manga. Unfortunately, for anyone who's read the manga, it's... a bit of an underwhelming experience, but still. It's a fun watch - even if it's not really what I was hoping for.

[ai4cf23]

mixed feelings (assignment 1)

When people think of writing, it doesn’t always occur to them that it can be a collaborative process. Why would it be? It’s an incredibly intimate art form that has no visual imagery beyond words on a page. The job of a writer is to evoke emotions through these words, to take ideas and somehow formulate them into a unique amalgamation that both encapsulates and explores the human psyche. So how, exactly, would someone (or something) fit into that?

In my own experience, I have found that sharing my writing is deeply terrifying. Coincidentally (and perhaps unfortunately), it is also very, very helpful—given the right group of people. A proper workshop can be extremely productive; having other writers read and give feedback on your work is probably one of the best things you can do for yourself. There are a few objective errors they might be able to catch: plot holes, grammatical mistakes, formatting issues. But the value in workshop lies mostly in the subjective interpretation of your work. Does it flow properly? Does the conclusion feel satisfying? Do you relate to the characters? Is the dialogue natural? What does natural dialogue even mean? Given that there’s no solid answer to any of these questions, I have doubts as to whether or not AI could be helpful in this way. If we take, for example, the concept of dialogue: it’s an active struggle for many to capture the “humanness” and verisimilitude of what good dialogue should be. If a real, living, breathing person cannot translate the very experience of conversation, then what hope does an AI have? I don’t say this merely out of skepticism either, because I’ve tried. Below is an example of a scene produced by ChatGPT after I provided it with the prompt: “can you write a scene between two characters arguing about where they should go for spring break?”

Despite its ability to produce…something, the dialogue itself is very cluttered. People don’t talk like this. For attempt no. 2, I ask it to make the dialogue more natural.

Still a no go. It interprets "natural" as more "colloquial", which, while true, doesn't work if it doesn't have an understanding of what colloquial speech entails.

“Sarah, Miami is so mainstream. I was thinking something more off the beaten path, like the Grand Canyon,” is giving sit-com. If ChatGPT were writing for a Disney channel show, then maybe this would be acceptable. But in a work of prose? No dice.

Okay. Let’s try something new. This time I ask if it can produce a work about adjusting to life in the city in the style of Lorie Moore’s How to Be a Writer, a notable and more importantly, distinct example of prose written in second person. Her writing is wonderfully whimsical and is not entirely linear. The first attachment below is an excerpt from Moore, followed by ChatGPT's output.

Here, it’s nailed the style…sort of. The basic structure is there. But the diction is slightly off and the prose is awkward in a way I can’t quite articulate. It doesn’t “flow.” It is also obsessively literal in a way that feels strangely shallow. No one thinks of the subway in a way that is nearly as romantic as "underground chariot." Some other parts have potential: the phrase "tetris-like living" is interesting, but it's still wordy and unrefined. What is most glaringly obvious, however, is that it lacks imagination. Could ChatGPT have come up with something as randomly clever as "a short story about an elderly man and woman who accidentally shot each other in the head, the result of an inexplicable malfunction of a shotgun which appears mysteriously in their living room one night"? Would it occur to an AI to call Mr. Killian pore-face?

Evidently ChatGPT is capable of mimicking specific works, but it doesn’t really know how to produce content of a certain caliber. While I don’t ever intend to use AI to actually write in my stead, this severely undercuts any hopes I had for it being helpful in a collaborative/workshop capacity. I admittedly have not plugged any of my own work into ChatGPT just because it feels…sacrilegious? In a way? It’s a little unsettling knowing that my writing could be used to train it.

However! Back to the point. Where does this lead us now?

For me, the question of AI in its current iteration (or, at least, the version of ChatGPT that I have access to) is whether or not it can learn how to think abstractly in the way that is required of objectively “good” writers. Although it can try to mimic specific writing styles, that doesn’t mean it can achieve the same quality of work or produce something that is artistically sound. I think AI has a long, long way to go before it can begin to replicate the humanity that is required of prose fiction. That being said, it also makes me deeply uncomfortable that AI could ever potentially reach that level of sophistication. Writing is ultimately a form meant to capture the human experience. If a machine can somehow learn to accomplish something similar, then what does that mean for us?

For reference, I’ve also attached an excerpt of my own writing about living life in the city, loosely inspired by How to Be a Writer (this is also why I plugged that specific prompt into ChatGPT). This was written half a year before its release.

[shihalyfie]

Kizuna itself vs. the two versions of the novel

Written on request from a friend who wanted to remain anonymous. This is more of an editorial than a meta, and while I usually have a policy of “this is an analysis blog, not a review blog” it goes into more of my personal impressions and opinions than usual, but it’s something I write hoping to be helpful.

There are basically three “official” full versions of Kizuna: one being, of course, the movie itself, one being the Dash X Bunko version of the novel, and one being the Shueisha Mirai Bunko version of it. While it’s certainly not to say that any of the three is an “incomplete” version of the narrative, if you really want as full of a picture of the story as possible, somehow, each of all three versions of the story happens to have really important information that the other two do not. If I had to pick only one of these three versions to recommend to people, I would of course pick the movie itself; it’s obviously the base story everything else is based off of and was the one the production centered around as a priority, but the novelizations have a surprising amount of info that provide a lot of insight into the movie’s story and themes.

I get the impression that the creation of Kizuna involved making a lot more story and background details than could fit in a 95-minute movie, so these novelizations, which were based directly off the original movie script, ended up being an outlet for a lot of these details (and as much as I could be harsh on the movie itself for being a bit “reliant” on extra material, I have to admit that Adventure and 02 were both like this too -- a lot of our current understanding of the series comes from the Adventure novels and drama CDs -- so frankly I’m thankful we at least got this with a 95-minute movie instead of a yearlong series). On the flip side, while I'm not going to say that the novels are completely and utterly inaccurate representations of the movie, in a perhaps too-close approximation of Adventure and 02's writing style, this is a movie where even the nuances in a single line or split-second moment carry heavy implications, which become much blurrier or harder to identify when they’re presented differently (or not even presented at all) in the novel’s context, especially when they emphasize very different things from what the movie itself was emphasizing.

The short version of this is that I believe the Dash X version contains the greater amount of “plot and story” information but significantly misses out on the emotional themes and presentation, whereas the Shueisha Mirai version abridges and cuts chunks of content but is much better at conveying the intended message. More on this below the cut. (Note that the following post spoils Kizuna’s plot events.)

The movie itself

Since the following parts are more “in comparison to the movie”, I’m not going to go too much into this in this section, but one thing I will say is that the official English subtitle translation for the movie is really not great. Even if you take out nitpickiness about the fact it misses several significant nuances (the difference between “unchangeable fate” and “changeable destiny”, or the fact that Gennai refers to partnership dissolution as a “case” and not like it’s something that happens overall) at really plot-important moments, some lines (thankfully, usually not plot-important ones) are just straight-up incorrect. And worse, there’s evidence the official English dub was based on that translation! (I’m not faulting the people in charge of the dub for this, but whoever handed them that translation to work with.)

The dialogue in the Dash X Bunko version is transcribed effectively word-for-word from the dialogue in the movie (or perhaps vice versa, given that the novel is based on the original script), so I highly recommend checking that version as a reference for dialogue or if you want to do any intimate analysis on it. I don't want to go as far as to suggest not supporting the official version of the movie because of this, but at least please be aware that the translation used there is not entirely reliable.

Dash X Bunko

If you talk about “the Kizuna novel”, this is the one that people usually tend to be referring to, for two reasons. Firstly, it was translated shortly after the movie’s release, and due to the unfortunate circumstances of Kizuna being delayed in accessibility outside Japan for several months, this basically served as the only comprehensive source of info about the movie outside Japan for a very long time. Secondly, in Japan, this one was marketed as “the one for adults” in contrast to the Shueisha Mirai one being “for kids”, which meant that a lot of people assumed that the latter one was just an incredibly stripped down version that was otherwise disposable or replaceable. (This is very, very much not the case, and is extremely ironic when it comes to a movie that partially centers around the dangers of looking down too much on things associated with childhood.)

When it comes to “plot and story info”, this is the one that probably serves as the best reference (especially for fanfic writers or those who need a refresher on certain plot events or to look up something quickly), and probably has the most “comprehensive” listing of plot events surrounding the movie. The dialogue in it is a word-for-word recreation of the movie’s script, and actually includes more scenes than the movie itself does, including two that I suspect to be deleted scenes (a detailing of the specifics behind the initial plan to pursue Eosmon, and a conversation between Koushirou and Tentomon) and adaptations of the first and second memorial shorts within their context in the movie. It also contains some interesting background details and extra context for some things in the movie that you might think would normally be animation flair or something, but take a very interesting implication of story importance if they’re going out of their way to write this in the script. (There’s a scene where Agumon and Gabumon appear in front of their partners when they’d been behind them a minute before, and it’s easy to think this might be an animation error, but not only does the surrounding context make this unlikely, the novel itself actually directly states that their positions had changed.) Given that, I think it was very fortunate that this novel was available to us for those outside Japan waiting for the actual movie to come out, because this level of detail was very important to have on hand rather than fragmented spoilers on social media.

However, the part where I think the novel is significantly deficient in compared to the actual movie (and also to the other version of the novel) is that it describes the plot events in too blunt of a manner and doesn’t bring out its themes very well. (It’s kind of like having a long and very detailed Wikipedia article plot summary; it definitely got all the hard facts down, but the emotion is gone, which is still a pretty significant issue when media’s all about the feelings and message in the end.) While “considering the movie to be more cynical than it’s probably meant to be” happens regardless of which version someone’s working from, I’ve talked to perhaps an unnervingly high number of people who started with the novel and were absolutely convinced that the movie’s message was about adulthood sucking and needing to just accept it, until they saw how the actual movie pulled it off and the surrounding atmosphere and realized it definitely was not. (I think one really big factor here is that a lot of the visual imagery makes it extremely, extremely hard to miss that Menoa’s mentality is completely screwed up and her way of seeing things was dubious to begin with; prose descriptions really just don’t capture the way they slam this in your face with visual and musical cues during the climax of the movie.)

You can figure this out from the novel itself, but you have to really be looking closely at the way they word things, and on top of that it’s hard to figure out which parts you should be focusing on and which parts aren’t actually that important -- in other words, the “choice of priorities” gets a bit lost in there. Even the little things lose a lot of value; it’s theoretically possible to use the novel to put together that Daisuke is wearing his sunglasses indoors during his first scene, but you have to put together the context clues from completely different paragraphs to figure this out, none of which compares to the actual hilarity of visually seeing him wearing the thing in a very obviously dimly lit restaurant because he’s our beloved idiot. (For more details, please see my post with more elaboration on this and more examples of this kind of thing.)

I wouldn’t say that the movie itself isn’t guilty of (perhaps accidentally) having some degree of mixed messaging, but I would say this problem is rather exacerbated by the novel’s way of presenting it due to its dedication to dropping every single plot detail and event without much in the way of choosing what to contextualize and what to put emphasis on (as it turns out, treating practically everything in the movie as if it has equal weight might not be a great idea). So, again, for that reason I think the novel serves as a good reference in terms of remembering what happened in it and knowing the movie’s contents, but I also feel that it’s really not the greatest deliverer of the movie’s message or themes at all.

Shueisha Mirai Bunko

The second version of the novel was not translated until several months after the movie first released, and shortly before the Blu-ray and streaming versions of the movie itself came out anyway, so my impression is that on this end a lot of people don’t even know it was a thing. On top of that, even those who know about it often dismiss it as the “kid version” -- and to be fair, it did baffle quite a few people as to why this version even exists (Kizuna is technically not unacceptable for kid viewing and its plot is still understandable regardless of age, but since the movie is so heavily about the millennial existential crisis, it’s not something kids would really relate to). So a lot of people tended to just skip over it...which is really a shame, because it contains some interesting things that actually aren’t in the other two versions at all. For instance, did you know that, as of this writing, this is the only thing that plainly states the specific explanation for why Yamato decided to become an astronaut, for the first time in 20 real-life years?

While there are still some things that weren’t in the movie proper (mainly the Eosmon initial plan and the adaptation of the second memorial short), for the most part, the actual events are somewhat abridged compared to the movie and the Dash X version, and other than a few stray lines, there’s not a lot of extra information that would be as helpful for referencing the events of the plot. The version of the novel here is rather broadly interpretive of the scenes in the movie, so several things are condensed or taken out (and, amusingly, because it’s assuming that the kids reading this don’t actually know the original Adventure or 02, it has to describe what each character is like in a quick one-liner).

However, interestingly enough, it’s because it’s so heavily interpretive that it illuminates a lot of things that weren’t really easy to glean out of the Dash X version. For instance:

Some scenes are described with “other perspectives” that give you info on someone else’s point of view. (For instance, we see more of Yamato’s perspective and thoughts when he has his first phone call with Daisuke, or a bit more detail in the process of how Eosmon kidnappings work.)

We get a lot more information on what’s going through everyone’s heads during each scene, and what emotions they’re feeling at a given time. (This is something that you could at least get to some degree in the movie itself from facial expressions and framing, but would often be a lot blurrier in the Dash X version; here, it’s spelled out in words.)

When things are abridged, you get a clearer idea of what the intended point and theme of the scene was because it’s stripped down to include only that part. In one really interesting case, the scene with Agumon finding Taichi’s AVs has a “censored” equivalent where Taichi’s pushed to a corner because he can’t find anything non-alcoholic in his fridge -- so when you look at the two versions of the scene and what they have in common, you can figure out that the point isn’t that it was a lewd joke for the sake of it, but rather that Taichi’s forcing himself into boxes of “adulthood” that are actually meaningless and impractical.

Some of the descriptions of the characters, scenes, and background information make it a lot more obvious as to their purpose in the narrative (it outright confirms that Miyako being in Spain means that her personality is getting overly enabled there).

The scene where the circumstances behind Morphomon’s disappearance are revealed makes it significantly less subtle what the point is. In the actual movie, a lot of this involved visual framing with Menoa seeming to become more and more distant, but in this version of the novel they basically whack you over the head with the final confirmation that Menoa is guilty of neglecting her own partner, which contradicts her own assertions that “they were always together” (maybe not emotionally, it seems!) and helps clarify the commonality between her, Taichi, Yamato, and Sora in what exactly led to their partners disappearing.

Bonus: this version of the novel really wants you to know that the ending of the movie is about Taichi and Yamato fully having the determination to turn things around and lead up to the 02 epilogue. (The movie’s version of this involves the extended version of Taichi’s thesis and the credits photo with Yamato obviously next to a rocket, while this novel’s version involves more detailed fleshing out of how Taichi and Yamato decided to use their experiences to move onto their eventual career paths and what kind of hope they still have at the end. The Dash X version...didn’t really have a very strong equivalent here.)

In other words, while this version of the novel isn’t the greatest reference for plot or worldbuilding, it does a much more effective job being straightforward about the intended themes and message of the movie, and even if the scenes in it are much more loosely adapted, it’s much better at adapting the emotional nuances of the things that would normally be conveyed via visuals, expressions, and voice acting. (Although I would still say that the movie itself is the best reference for that kind of thing, of course.) If you just want lore or plot ideas, I don’t think it’ll help you very much, but since this series is so much about characters that had their ways of thinking fleshed out in such incredible detail, and about strong theme messaging, this is all still very valuable information in its own way.

[majestywritez]

Dream Sequences

Intro to Post:

Hey lovelies!! Today's post is all about dreams. Most people think dreams are an easy subject or topic to write about since you know, we all experience our own dreams but to write a good dream sequence, requires a lot of different aspects that I will be going over in the rest of today's post so without further a do let's get started!

Uses for Dreams in Literature

The Realization Dream

In a Realization Dream, something must “click” for a character in a dream, something they couldn’t figure out while awake.

Maybe a character is incapable of putting together certain pieces of evidence in his waking life, but in the midst of a dream’s storm-and-chaos, the pieces fall into place for them. Or maybe their latest desires are thrown into sharp relief in a vivid dream in true Freudian style.

2. The Internal Conflict Dream

A character struggling with an impossible choice might very well dream about it.

Using a dream sequence to colorfully illustrate internal turmoil can give a face to a character’s agony. Remember: show, don’t tell. This is something I often struggle with when writing, guys! Anyone else? Lol

3. The Foreshadowing Dream

The foreshadowing dream is probably one of my very favorites and for me its easier to write. This sequence gives a character a glimpse of the future while they sleep. This particular effect can range from mere hints at events to come—for instance, a character dreams about a ghastly trial where horrible evidence is brought against him, then wakes up and gets dressed down by his overbearing girlfriend—or outright prophesy.

In either case, this dream type should be used sparingly, and with extreme caution: if your characters are able to accurately predict the future with any sort of consistency, it can drain the tension right out of your story!

4. The Communication Dream

Also known as a “shared” or “linked” dream, this conceit comes from the popular notion that people are somehow able to communicate with one another via their dreams.

When used literally—usually in a more fantasy-oriented setting—the Communication Dream can be used either to demonstrate the close emotional bond between siblings, friends, or lovers, or simply to relay important information across vast distances without the use of communication technology.

Or, if the dream isn’t actually “shared,” it can allow one character to say something to another character that she could never say in person, creating a moment of catharsis.

Also a rule to remember before writing a dream: before you begin writing your dream sequence, ask yourself exactly why you’re including it.

If you can’t answer further than, “Because it’ll be awesome,” then the sequence probably isn’t necessary to your story.

Now that we're done discussing the uses for dream sequences, let's get into actually writing one!

Tips for Writing Dream Sequences:

1. Apply a bit of Logic

Writers and critics alike refer to how certain scenes accurately capture “dream logic,” or the fact that dreams seemingly operate on no logic at all.

That’s the keyword, however: “seemingly.”

Remember again that you’re writing a scene first, a scene that your readers need to be able to follow—at least somewhat. Your dream sequence needs to establish its own brand of consistent “dream logic" to ensure that the scene actually functions as a scene.

Even the most surreal and chaotic dreamscape needs some sort of through-line that ties it all together: as bananas as dreams get sometimes, they still have a narrative of some sort.

Even if you decide that your story would be best served by a wildly inconsistent dream sequence, you can at least be consistent in your inconsistency. Basically, keep the chaos running at the same level at all times, and the events within will hold some semblance of internal consistency—even if they’re actually coming apart at the seams.

2. Use Narrative Distance

You’ve no doubt heard of the classic “out-of-body experience” dream, where the dreamer watches their own actions as though they are a spectator instead of being “in the driver’s seat.”

Well, there’s a way to capture that floaty, out-to-lunch feeling in fiction using a narrative technique called narrative distance.

Narrative distance, or “perspective distance,” refers to the implied “space” between the reader and the narrator or character in the story. Are your readers privy to the narrator’s private thoughts or opinions about the goings-on in your book? Does he or she have a distinct personality—or even agency in the story, to a degree?

If so, that’s close narrative distance.

First-person perspective has the closest and most intimate narrative distance, but third-person has varying degrees of this as well. Can your third-person narrator omnisciently “hear” the thoughts of all your major characters—or does the narration function more like a camera lens, observing the action only on a surface level? Or can the narrator only “hear” the inner monologue of one central character? Or maybe a chosen few? All these decisions affect the narrative distance of your story.

But how does this apply to dream sequences? Well, in order to create that floaty, dreamlike feel, simply increase the narrative distance in your story for the duration of the scene. If you’ve got a first-person narrator, switch to third-person limited. If you’re already in third-person limited, “pan out” further—go for that action-oriented, cinematic viewpoint we described earlier.

The goal is to create a shift in perspective so radical that it makes your readers feel like they’re dreaming as well. “Zoom out” from the dream’s events, set your character loose inside—and watch the mayhem begin from afar.

3. Use a Little or Lots of Detail

There are two basic settings for fictional dreams.

First, there are the dreams that take place in vast voids with little detail and only a few characters and concrete objects within them. This creates an empty, lonely, and often eerie atmosphere, appropriate for both nightmares and reflection.

But these dream-voids aren’t merely seen, they’re experienced—and a very specific type of writing is required to simulate that experience on paper.

In this sort of dream, a lamp should go from “the lamp with the gold-colored lampshade and the base shaped like a crouching cat” to simply “a lamp on a low desk.”

Be vague. Be infuriatingly vague. Withhold details. Use sentence fragments. Leave gaps in your descriptions for your readers to fill in: after all, that’s what they’d do if the dream belonged to them!

The other kind of dream turns everything up several notches: the noise, the saturation, the colors, the mayhem… These dreams feel overcrowded, bursting at the seams, difficult to navigate without stepping on (or in) something unpleasant.

These are a different sort of nightmare: use them to communicate stress or illness or indecision, the product of a split, fractured, or divided mind.

Embrace that chaos in your writing. Go into detail overload. Describe things in florid or grotesque fashion, especially things that wouldn’t normally be either florid or grotesque. Have random, surreal elements intrude into the central narrative of the dream, and make sure these intrusions are as unpleasant as possible. Make your readers uneasy with their descriptions.

Not only does this overblown style suit surreal imagery, but it can make even ordinary scenery feel fevered and dreamlike.

A word of warning, however: exercise at least a smidge of restraint here. You may want your fever-dream sequence to be unpleasant, yes—but not so awful that your readers simply walk away.

Alright, I hope all of this information helped anyone who's interested in writing dream sequences. That's it for today's post, have a wonderful day and don't forget I love you all!

[fathersonholygore]

The Blackcoat’s Daughter. 2016. Directed & Written by Oz Perkins. Starring Emma Roberts, Lucy Boynton, Kiernan Shipka, Lauren Holly, James Remar, Peter J. Gray, Emma Holzer, Jodi Larratt, & Douglas Kidd. Paris Film/Travelling Picture Show Company/Unbroken Pictures. Rated R. 93 minutes. Horror/Thriller

★★★★1/2 Between this and I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House, director-writer Oz Perkins (son of the great Anthony Perkins) has had a couple great years. He’s proving to be a master of the slow burn. Some might not be keen on that type of horror. Myself, and plenty others, find it fascinating; when done correctly. The Blackcoat’s Daughter (also renamed as February throughout its drawn out release) is a compelling, almost hypnotic fever dream. I wouldn’t necessarily say that it hinges on a big twist, a grand reveal. However, Perkins does tell his story through a curious lens, one that kept me thrilled to the last beat. Part of the way through the pieces start coming together and when they do the climax hits like kick in the teeth, bringing us towards a tragic and violent end. Not everyone will find the film their cup of tea; no film’s going to touch on everything, it’s impossible. If you’re a fan of those slow burn horror efforts, Perkins offers nothing but the best. The central performances, specifically Emma Roberts and Kiernan Shipka, are totally engaging, and honestly if you can’t give them that then you’re not being honest. Above all, the style of the film, its gradually revealed plot, the score, they’ll haul you into this world and haunt you, too. The film moves in what feels like an erratic fashion, jumping between the three main young women in the story – Joan (Roberts), Rose (Boynton), and Kat (Shipka). For a little while I actually felt the screenplay wasn’t coming out smooth, then after several scenes things came together and made clear the story was non-linear. Once you settle into the plot and its progression, the film gets even more interesting; the vagary of its elements become clearer and clearer. What I dig most is the sparse dialogue and the sense of subtlety throughout. It’s a quiet film until the madness of the last half hour. Even then it’s gentle, in a way. A genuinely unsettling atmosphere is provided through gorgeously captured, dark cinematography making the boarding school particularly, the main location of the film, feel ominous at every turn. Kudos to cinematographer Julie Kirkwood, who also worked on Perkins’ I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House and also on Bryan Bertino’s spectacular little flick The Monster last year. Something which gives presence to the eerie darkness of the film is also the score. Beautifully strange music. Certain parts sound like a theremin, off playing in the distance somewhere. Other times an echoing, grating sound of strings, and so much more. The score altogether, every piece, fits where it sits. Just great stuff that takes the sombre mood and tone of the film to another level. Perkins could’ve told this story through a straightforward presentation of scenes, moving through all the expected moves one anticipates in a film such as this one. Again, I don’t necessarily feel that the ‘reveal’ of the plot is a twist, or that it’s meant as a huge surprise. But the slow burn leading up to it makes that revelation exciting, in a darkly enticing manner. Perkins writes well without exposition, telling his story through imagery, which in turn makes the whole thing more captivating as we move through its murky mysteries. He does a fine bit of work as director. The quick shots of a strangulation. Then a gunshot in the darkness. A view of Joan’s bullet scar. Blood on a door frame. Kat sees Rose in the corner, as an evil entity rises up nearby. All these things are so finite, brief, all vague and unnerving respectively. Specifically I love when we’re introduced to Joan. As we figure her out, the flashes of her memory are pure storytelling without the need for words. And this is, once more, part of why the revealing moments of the story hold their weight. Because even if you’re not actually surprised by the – for lack of a better word at this point – twist, at this point there’s an anticipation built up that has you expecting something fierce. Does Perkins ever deliver. Tension snaps, then art and nastiness collide. Believe it or not, Perkins opts to show very little in comparison to what he could have shown for the sake of gruesome horror. The relatively tame nature of the final 20-25 minutes is what makes it such a gruelling experience. Then all those cryptic memories of Joan, her odd giggle in the bathroom, the scar, Kat and Rose’s situation at the boarding school, everything tangles up into a vicious burst of blood and terror.

This is absolutely one of the best horrors I saw from 2016. Perkins is a talented director and storyteller, his writing is the sort which draws me in, keeping me glued. Not everyone likes that slow burn aesthetic. I do. The Blackcoat’s Daughter is expertly written, and through that comes its gorgeous, devilish imagery to tell the story on its own. There’s no substitute for great artistry, Perkins has it in spades. You can’t talk about this movie without mentioning the massive talents of Roberts and Shipka. They’re both utterly fabulous, gliding through the material with what looks of ease. They make their characters feel real, which isn’t only necessary it is wholly disturbing. The story comes down hard on the audience not only because of the writing, but because these two young women make Joan and Kat come off the page with terrifying results. I keep telling people about this one because it deserves to be seen, it deserves to be studied in terms of its visuals and learned from for those who write and want to tell a story without only resorting to dialogue; this aspect I love and can’t stress enough. So many people want this type of horror, then when they get it they don’t know what to do with it. Not saying everybody has to love it. Just try and let the images and the flow of the film take over, listen to the sparsely placed words carefully. I hope that maybe you’ll get even a fraction of the same enjoyment I did, and will continue to as I watch it over and over again, relishing in its horrific glory.

THE BLACKCOAT’S DAUGHTER: Step Into a Place of Madness The Blackcoat's Daughter. 2016. Directed & Written by Oz Perkins. Starring Emma Roberts, Lucy Boynton, Kiernan Shipka, Lauren Holly, James Remar, Peter J.