The Written Word - The Arts - Life 101 lecture

Novel - a fictitious prose narrative of considerable length and complexity, portraying characters and usually presenting a sequential organization of action and scenes.

Fiction - A literary work whose content is produced by the imagination and is not necessarily based on fact.

Story - a narration of an incident or a series of events. Also, the events in the life of a person.

Epic - noting or pertaining to a long poetic composition, usually centered upon a hero, in which a series of great achievements or events is narrated in elevated style

Poetry - the art of rhythmical composition, written or spoken, for exciting pleasure by beautiful, imaginative, or elevated thoughts.

Book - Anything that serves for the recording of facts or events, usually on sheets of paper fastened or bound together within covers.

The Written Word is the solid formation of the working mind.

But lets get right down to it. Written works are reflections of a person's personal inner workings put down to pen and paper. All art expresses a persons own take on their own exposure. But writing is special in that it can capture a whole picture, sometimes better than a painting, a song, or a photograph. Scenes, images, personal behavior, and the mental process can all be documented to create a whole tangible vision that others can share. Written works can turn fantasy into a reality that is easy to believe because it is so potent in terms of its expansive explanation. They have the ability to pull you in and paint a world inside our ever growing minds to a new world we ourselves have never seen.

For the sake of understanding it, Here is an example:

Stacy turned around to look back the way she had come. She had hoped to see a house with lights on. Instead she struggled to see the row of houses. the street lamps had gone out, and not a single house was illuminated. there was no sound other than the flapping sound of rain falling to the ground. she turned to look at the intersection. There! a shape, lighter than anything else caught her attention. without any motive she crossed the street and approached it. she looked hard through the rain. Her vision focused on a small reflective sticker reading "NOV 07" as she got closer she exclaimed "VIRGINIA PLATES! JPW-3404... j p w . . . DUNE BUGGY!" she hopped each step closer to the vehicle. it became clearer, the white paint was still dimmed from the lack of light, but it shone to her like a light-house across wicked seas. Suddenly she was running forward. the pain in her body, the cold crawling into her muscles was just a minor annoyance. she tried to stop as she approached the trunk side of the car, but the wet ground wouldn't let her. she slid across the ground and smacked her abdomin right against the back of the car. In stead of letting herself fall to the ground, she grunted and acknowledged the pain but she dug her fingers down on the trunk to take hold of the car. her legs went weak, and her shoulders began to burn. but she lingered, letting her face remember the feel of the car's paint finish. it was exactly the same as her memory. she locked her knees into place and her spine straightened flinging her body upright. she reached into her pants pockets. they were empty. that was the last straw. tears welded up in her eyes. she kept searching the pockets with her hands. she plunged her right hand into the pocket of the robe, and fingers met nothing but wet thin cotton. still sobbing she walked around to the front of the car. her sweet pink tomogatchi was staring out at her, smiling. she sniffed hard and waved with a forced smile at the inanimate object. she bent forward to search the underside of the car, and there it was. the hide a key box. her heart began to race. she lifted the box to her face and slid the panel to reveal a key. she picked the thin key from the box. it was not her car key, it was far too old for that. it had only 1 tooth, it was round and long instead of flat and jagged. at the very head of the key the metal had been worked into a heart shape. the key was attached to a key ring. she looked back into the box and saw it was empty. she placed the hidden key in her pocket, and returned the hide a key box under her car. the rain was beginning to let up. intrigue and fear ping-ponged around her head. she slid onto the hood of the car and sat down in front of the driver seat. she looked into the car. there were her cloves and a lighter. she sighed heavily and turned her head back toward the road. as she swung her head her eyes fell upon the door lock. it was standing up. she flung herself off the hood and rushed to the door. it opened without any difficulty at all. she ducked in as fast as she could. she looked around and began to breathe hard from excitement. success was creeping across her face when she saw her keys hanging from the ignition. "FUCK YES!" she exclaimed and turned the key. the car started right up. she pressed the accelerator and the car didn't move. the tears were coming again, but then she saw the red illuminated "break" sign on her dashboard. she chuckled to herself then pulled the parking break lever. she tried the accelerator again, and she was off.
Excerpt from "Fun HBM Side Story" Written by Stacy Stratton.

Words are combined together to string a series of ideas to create a documentation of action and thought. With writing we can delve deeply into the perception of another person's fantasy. So the whole experience of action is captured, from the characters actions to their perception, to their inner monologue, as well as their external vocalizations. There is something whole and tangible in the written word, that all other types of media. It is always descriptive, full-bodied, and in some situations over the top in it's ability to explain what cannot be seen.

In the warmth of someone else's documented perception we can find ourselves lost in a world we might not know. Written works are like a set of open arms welcoming you home. Its easy to find yourself cuddled down with a good book, rereading the musings of another intelligent mind. Reading teaches us spelling, grammer, and the mysterious way to express ourselves in fantasy. Language is one of our great strengths, since communication is paramount to human culture. Dreaming is another one of our great strengths since looking for something greater is engrained in our minds. We are all Tinkers, looking for something to improve on, something to build, something to create. So combining our love of fantasy with the desire to innovate, all people have the gift to produce something. This is what writing is all about. Sharing your vision with one another. And the best part is, almost anyone can do it.

Romance, horror, comedy, drama, biography, they all have a place bound between covers and placed on bookshelves. You never know what might come out of it. Every work of tv, movies, comes from an idea which has been penned. You can start to create the world you'd like, even if in no other form than a way that you can read. But once you can share it you can start to make a community that can start to understand just who you are. So I dare you, pull up your notepad, get your Word working, and start jotting stuff down. Try Writing. And if you need ideas, start reading.