I would say that as you publish more works and present a larger sample size, I have more data points to study and your idiosyncratic patterns begin to emerge. Specifically your cadence: the rhythm of how your sentences and paragraphs flow into scenes, and your prosody: the word choice that you select.
I would say that as you publish more works and present a larger sample size, I have more data points to study and your idiosyncratic patterns begin to emerge. Specifically your cadence: the rhythm of how your sentences and paragraphs flow into scenes, and your prosody: the word choice that you select.
One thing that I admire most is your pacing, which is excellent and shouldn't change at all.
You do a really good job of giving the audience the bare minimum they need, and then moving on as soon as your point has been delivered.
There's a great essay by artist Dave Gibbons at the beginning of the 2019 commemorative edition of Watchmen, where he talks about the decision to either reveal implicit or explicit information.
I would say this is what you are currently doing beautifully Paulos MythPilot, and this is an area where I'm studying and learning from you. Your pacing gives just enough to the audience to satisfy, the brief suggestion of a kiss, a touch, a glimpse, then moves on.
The advice "show don't tell" comes from Anton Chekhov.
Anton Chekhov wrote in a letter to a friend, ""Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass."
(his actual comment was much longer and inefficient, but I prefer the popular version)
But anyway, I wanted to share with you a sample of the essay from Dave Gibbons:
"More than any other, the comic book medium is founded on the evocative glimpse. Indeed, the very fabric, the mechanism, of comics is essentially a series of statis snapshot panels magically given continuity by the reader's attention.
The cover of a comic is typically a tight little promise of pleasure, crafted to lure the eye, excite the curiosity, and, that done, hook the reader into buying. Once inside the comic, the true fan needs but a few panels depicting some prior continuity or an incarnation of a character published decades earlier to open up vast suggested histories of wonder.
Such is the power of the glimpse, the magpie lure of a promising hint.
Often, in their actual content, comics would show these promises to be lies. But sometimes, just sometimes, they would prove to be truly memorable fictional realities. Such a thing was possible for comics; such a thing could be aspired to.
The particular qualities of the form aside, there is nothing that fundamentally separates comics from other storytelling media. The same considerations, essential to a satisfying narrative, apply here as elsewhere in the realms of fiction.
Whether tales are told by the light of the campfire or by the glow of a screen, the prime decision for the teller has always been what to reveal and what to withhold. Whether in words alone or with images, the narrator must be clear about what is to be shown and what is to be hidden.
Relating the entirety of experience is too full, too unmediated and sprawling to appeal, too much like the mundane existence it approximates. It is for the storyteller to offer the tantalizing glimpse and for the audience to supply the closure which it suggests."
I would say that as you publish more works and present a larger sample size, I have more data points to study and your idiosyncratic patterns begin to emerge. Specifically your cadence: the rhythm of how your sentences and paragraphs flow into scenes, and your prosody: the word choice that you select.
One thing that I admire most is your pacing, which is excellent and shouldn't change at all.
You do a really good job of giving the audience the bare minimum they need, and then moving on as soon as your point has been delivered.
There's a great essay by artist Dave Gibbons at the beginning of the 2019 commemorative edition of Watchmen, where he talks about the decision to either reveal implicit or explicit information.
I would say this is what you are currently doing beautifully Paulos MythPilot, and this is an area where I'm studying and learning from you. Your pacing gives just enough to the audience to satisfy, the brief suggestion of a kiss, a touch, a glimpse, then moves on.
The advice "show don't tell" comes from Anton Chekhov.
Anton Chekhov wrote in a letter to a friend, ""Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass."
(his actual comment was much longer and inefficient, but I prefer the popular version)
But anyway, I wanted to share with you a sample of the essay from Dave Gibbons:
"More than any other, the comic book medium is founded on the evocative glimpse. Indeed, the very fabric, the mechanism, of comics is essentially a series of statis snapshot panels magically given continuity by the reader's attention.
The cover of a comic is typically a tight little promise of pleasure, crafted to lure the eye, excite the curiosity, and, that done, hook the reader into buying. Once inside the comic, the true fan needs but a few panels depicting some prior continuity or an incarnation of a character published decades earlier to open up vast suggested histories of wonder.
Such is the power of the glimpse, the magpie lure of a promising hint.
Often, in their actual content, comics would show these promises to be lies. But sometimes, just sometimes, they would prove to be truly memorable fictional realities. Such a thing was possible for comics; such a thing could be aspired to.
The particular qualities of the form aside, there is nothing that fundamentally separates comics from other storytelling media. The same considerations, essential to a satisfying narrative, apply here as elsewhere in the realms of fiction.
Whether tales are told by the light of the campfire or by the glow of a screen, the prime decision for the teller has always been what to reveal and what to withhold. Whether in words alone or with images, the narrator must be clear about what is to be shown and what is to be hidden.
Relating the entirety of experience is too full, too unmediated and sprawling to appeal, too much like the mundane existence it approximates. It is for the storyteller to offer the tantalizing glimpse and for the audience to supply the closure which it suggests."