October 30, 2013

Derailing the Draft

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , — admin @ 2:00 pm

November has always seemed an odd month to hold NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). We’re just coming off Halloween, preparing the house for the winter months, interrupted by Thanksgiving (which usually can derail even the best habits, eating, writing and otherwise), and the last week is the first official week of holiday shopping. So, it’s no surprise that I’ve never completed a first draft of a novel during November.

Heaven knows I’ve tried – 2005, 2007, 2008, 2009 – Some nice ideas came from those sessions, and some not very well thought-out ideas. And that’s my biggest problem with NaNoWriMo. The assumption is that the writer will somehow magically begin on November 1, writing from page 1, creating 1660 words a day, and keep that pace up until November 30, when a first draft sits awaiting NaNoEdMo (National Novel Editing Month).

In reality, however, only about a third gets written because, regardless of whatever technique you’re using, you will hit writer’s block. There are tools to get over this, such as writing partners, NaNoWriMo meet ups at local cafés and bookstores, and a variety of random character and plot twist generators.

None of these have worked for me. The meet-up is fine if you’re not a very social creature to begin with – otherwise you’re continually fighting the urge to engage in conversation and other niceties, and that in itself can be distracting and counter-productive. Plus, all that extra spending on coffees and snacks on a writer’s budget, and all the extra whipped cream and sprinkles on the holiday drinks and snacks – well, it’s a recipe for diabetic disaster.

The “rules” of NaNoWriMo, as loose as they are, are also non-conducive to completion of a first draft. Somehow, an entire month’s worth of writing has to be squeezed from the grey matter, regardless of how often you can (or can’t) fit in visits to museums, concerts, etc., to refill the creativity well, which, psychologically, is a recipe for disaster, since it reinforces the brain pathways that house the bad habits most writers haven’t eliminated from their routine. (Psychological studies suggest that habits, bad and good, are formed and eliminated through repetition over the course of around 21 days. If you haven’t figured out how to maximize your writing productivity by the time NaNoWriMo starts, you likely will not figure it out during November, and the bad habits will have had 4 weeks to establish themselves.)

In addition, according to NaNoWriMo, you’re not allowed to have plotted out the story in advance. This is, it seems to me, a recipe for disaster. If you don’t know the road you’re following, you need a map to get to the destination. Without a map, you may as well wander into the woods at dusk without a flashlight. Yes, I suppose you can just make things up as you go along, but doing so greatly reduces the possibility of achieving a successful first draft. And that kind of negative reinforcement, in itself, can create an enormous amount of writers block.

NaNoWriMo simply does not work for me. Instead, what I have noticed about my personal writing habits is that whenever I hit a block, it’s an indication that something more needs to be explored about my material – a character hasn’t been fully developed, a setting isn’t clear in my mind, something about the plot is tripping over itself. It requires a certain amount of distance and examination (sometimes self-examination) to diagnose and fix the block, but it’s always worth it. On a 30-day schedule, however, there’s no room for delay. Further, the earlier a block develops during the drafting process, the more fundamental the issue is, and therefore needs to be addressed immediately, before other things go drastically off track as well.

Of all the thousands of NaNoWriMo participants, I’ve only read of a handful since the program’s inception who have successfully published the end result after drastic rewriting. It’s not a great success rate, and it indicates that NaNoWriMo may simply be another creativity tool – something to spurn on discovery. But there are other creativity tools that can provide a clear focus for the story without spending 30 days foundering against self-inflicted block. Placed in this perspective, it’s a great beginners’ tool for writing, but once you’re done, what then?

I have yet to reuse anything that came out of NaNoWriMo in a serious project – most of the material is so specific to the project that it can’t be redeployed. I also have yet to successfully complete a NaNoWriMo – life (and Thanksgiving) inevitably derails it.

Having said this, I am using November to belt out a first draft, or the remainder of a first draft which I began work on in August. The plotting is completed (or at least as complete as any plot can be at this point), and the drafting has begun. But, I’m not putting some arbitrary deadline on the work. I know the best pace for my work, and there’s no way I can shoehorn it into 30 days. Quantity does not equal quality. And my personal goal is to write something that others will read – not something that ends up in a personal slush pile because I don’t know what to do with it.

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June 13, 2012

Producing the Play

Filed under: Theater — Brian Triber @ 1:46 pm

I’ve blogged about and edited a couple of works on theater in the past (see Freytag’s Technique of the Drama and Aristotle’s Poetics), and the theory in those works are useful to the playwright, and to the dramaturge. But for the director, the actor, and the production crew, they provide a means for analysis of the script, to understand character motivations and employ the dramatic structure in bringing the play to life from the page. For the audience member, the concepts laid out are a bit more etheric, and seem not to have any connection to the finished product. This is often because the director, production crew, and actors have done such a fine job of interpreting the script, and taken the burden of understanding the play on their own shoulders so that the audience can understand only as much or as little as they want to take in.

With this blog entry, I hope to begin a series to discuss how to produce a play. I hope it will act as a place to discuss best techniques, secrets learned, what to avoid, and generally how to mount the production of a play in a professional-like manner. By raising the awareness of how much work actually goes into the preparation of a show, who needs to be involved, and what duties are required of each individual, I believe that the viewer will come away with more appreciation of the art of live theatrical performance.

I begin this series in the midst of an actual production. We (myself as director, and Oak Grove Improvement Association as producer) are currently in production of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream in the parks of Malden for performance in July of 2012. Since we are in mid-production, these entries will be a bit out of chronological order. We are currently well into the rehearsal process, and we have just passed the off-book date (the date on which all actors should have their lines memorized so that blocking and other stage business can be worked on). I’ll be discussing the challenges of production on Midsummer, covering topics as varied as costuming, sound design, blocking, scansion, set construction, and others. I’ll also be introducing my readers to cast members, and talk a bit about the parks of Malden, and how to plan a program book. It will be a little of everything — a veritable buffet of theatrical slang, a little heavy on the sauciness, but no ham at this banquet.

I may not be able to cover every detail of production, so I invite you, my readers, to submit questions. If I’m not clear on a point (which happens occasionally) please ask for clarification. I don’t bite, and I’ll answer every topical question, even if you think it’s silly. (Usually the silly questions lead to the oct enlightening answers, so I especially welcome them.)

So, with all this said, it’s time to raise the curtain on the production process for Malden Shakespeare Project’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream…

Lori Sinatra as Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Oberon’s Vest

Some costume pieces for the show are designed by Lori, including (and especially) the hand-painted denim vests.
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March 19, 2012

Leaping Over the Writer’s Block

Filed under: Uncategorized,Writer's Block,Writing — Brian Triber @ 2:58 pm

Yep, every writer has a different technique to deal with writer’s block. Some swear by doing dishes, going for a walk, or some other physical activity. Others like to brainstorm their way out of the block. Still others meditate, or write down what they want to accomplish the next day before going to bed, or put out prayers and offerings to the universe, or carry a charm like Dumbo grasping that feather as he falls from the top of the burning building. But to actually produce a work, you can’t rely on those clowns to catch you in their net.

Writers block is not a disease. It’s not a writer’s malfunction. It’s a process problem. It’s a signal that as a writer you’re doing something out of order or from the wrong approach. And it’s always caused by exactly the same thing: Editing instead of Creating. (Conversely, Creating instead of Editing can cause delay, and an extended writing process.)

I got to thinking about this again yesterday after speaking with a fairly bright poet who was working as a carver at a restaurant buffet. He pined about how he had worked on dozens of poems, and was working on a novel, of which he had written 100 pages, and then found himself stymied. Full on block.

Most books on writer’s block focus on how to overcome it, through exercises, visualizations, distractions, and other tricks. But very few (only a couple come to mind) actually deal with the psychology of the block.

It’s akin to method acting — those actors who only use method acting as a tool in their arsenal to deconstruct a role and perform it usually have to follow the method precisely without interruption, or they can’t produce a complete performance. But have you ever tried to engage them in a conversation backstage? They get irate because you interrupted them while they were trying to “get into character,” even if it’s to let them know that a set piece has been moved for safety reasons, or that the understudy will be playing opposite them. Then they proceed to be thrown off when the set piece isn’t where they expect it to be, or the understudy delivers the line slightly differently and their response feels emotionally inappropriate to the understudy’s delivery of her lines. The actor who survives this kind of real-world pathos usually does so because “method” acting is neither the primary or only technique in their toolbox.

The key to successful performance for the actor is adaptability. No one approach is appropriate for all roles in every play in every production for any actor. It requires a thoughtful adaptation of the actor’s abilities, applying techniques and tricks, filtered through their experience and rehearsal, and listening and reacting to the audience and fellow actors. And even then, no two performances will ever be the same.

This idea also holds true for writer’s block – no personal technique will work every time, no trick learned from Writer’s Digest will be equally applicable in every circumstance, and sometimes the characters you’re writing just outright refuse to cooperate, whether you’re using your favorite pen on paper, blind typing, or dictating to your iPad 3. Eventually you will hit a point when the ink stops flowing, and the character crosses her arms and squints at you petulantly.

So, how does one get past the writer’s block? Purchase dozens of books on writing? Go for a walk? What if you’re on a deadline to get that last draft in? There’s no time to go through all of the tricks in the bag. So what to do? The key is in understanding what creates block to begin with, then disengage from it.

To understand writer’s block, one first has to understand a psychological model of creativity. Not too closely, of course, because as all creative types have noticed at one time or another, if you examine the mechanism too closely it eventually stops working. The idea is to understand just enough to diagnose how to step beyond the block. So, in one sentence, here’s the model I use to break through the block: The brain essentially has two functions when it comes to writing – Creativity, and Criticality.

The Creative mind kicks in whenever you brainstorm, or daydream, or when the words are flowing onto the paper. It’s the Muse of the subconscious communicating with the outside world through image, idea, smells, colors, essentially anything experiential. It’s the difference between a cloudless sky, and an effulgent sky bleeding its cerulean through the pikestaffs of the distant army of trees. Creativity works best when it is observed only peripherally. Look it in the eye and the Muse runs and hides. But play by yourself and she sneaks up on you, insisting on joining in the fun.

The Critical mind, on the other hand, is a bit of a brute and a bully, but one that is all too necessary to complete a piece. It likes to pick things apart to its finest detail. Left to its own devices, the Critical mind would disassemble a glass of water into a pile of oxygen atom and a pile of hydrogen atoms, and not content to let things go, continue to disassemble the glass into its constituent parts too.

So how do you get the Creator and the Critic to play nice with each other, to help you as a writer get to a completed product? If they were children, you’d be forced to separate them. They just don’t get along. Having the two of them living in the same brain — your brain — can be a struggle. So you have to set some ground rules to make it easier on the Creator, the Critic, and yourself.

First, never try to let both loose on the same work at the same time. This is by far the most common cause of writer’s block, and the easiest to fix if you can diagnose it. It requires completing the first draft before you ever sit down to edit. It also requires separate distinct passes at the manuscript: one to identify problems (the Critic’s job) and one to fix the problems (the Creator’s job).

This seems counterintuitive to many writers. We’ve all experienced drafting a piece and realizing halfway through the first paragraph that our focus was wrong, that we’ve introduced the same character with multiple names, that the physical setting is wrong for the emotional setting of the scene, that Toni was wearing sandals at the beginning of the scene and now has Chuck Taylors.

This usually leads to our questioning whether the story is valid, if we’ve got a good handle on the subject matter, if we’re even ready to begin writing the piece. And we’re suddenly in block, because we’re criticizing the work before it’s even been created.

There are many techniques to get around block, but the best is to prevent it from ever showing up. Here are a few tricks to prevent writer’s block from rearing its ugly head, and a few ideas on how to quickly remove it.

  • Keep a second notebook nearby. What sometimes happens while you’re writing is an idea occurs to you that is tangential to the story — a plot hook, a new character to act as a dramatic foil — or you realize that something you’ve written may be inaccurate and requires some research, or there’s something you think might be contrary to something else you’ve written in the work. Don’t stop writing to do the research or verify the continuity or figure out how to work the new bit in. Jot it into a notebook to examine later, when you’re in Critical mode.
  • Use MS Word’s Comments feature. Similar to using a notebook, you can embed comments in Word documents that can later be resolved after you’re done writing the first draft. Take caution, however, not to go back to resolve any of these issues until you’ve completed the entire first draft. Changing something as simple as a character name throughout your manuscript before you complete it can be sufficient for your Creative subconscious to not recognize the character that it’s been working with, and drastically change the story.
  • Don’t fix the manuscript while you’re critiquing it. This does the opposite of undermining your creativity. It undermines the critic, and can introduce errors in the flow of the story or its internal consistency. Mark up your physical manuscript with green or purple pens for errors and observations. (Red tends to set us off subconsciously, because we all remember those teachers’ comments on tests and papers that made us feel like we didn’t really know our subject matter. Looking at red markups of our manuscripts can create or reinforce block.)
  • Step away from the desk. When you’ve finished either Creating or Critiquing, before stepping into the next phase, do something to change your workspace. We have a tendency to associate our physical surroundings with the activities we pursue in them. Psychologists recommend removing your television from your bedroom to get a better night’s sleep for this reason — when you watch TV, you’re mentally engaged, so your body will try to fight off sleep to remain engaged. Try printing out your manuscript and sitting in a different position or place when you edit it. I use a corner chair with a window, lamp, and a table for a drink next to it. If I haven’t completed editing, the manuscript remains on the seat of the chair to prevent me from sitting down to write there.
  • Work on two stories at once. If you work on multiple pieces at the same time, consider limiting your work to 2 manuscripts. Allow your Creative mind to run free on one, while your Critical mind is engaged with the other. This can be a little tricky since both the Creative and Critical minds, once engaged, like to take on new projects, and may even see the other work as a refreshing challenge. But, once you’ve gotten proficient at acknowledging and quieting the unwanted voice, it allows you to be more productive and duck away front eh block entirely.
  • Take a field trip. If you find yourself really deep in block, or are having difficulty in reigning in the Critic or the Creator, try amusing the offended party — go to a museum to distract the Critical mind, to allow it another outlet for its nitpicking (the artists are dead and won’t mind); or try listening to classical music while you edit  to misdirect your inner Creator for a bit so that your Critic can work. A walk in the woods or along a beach can also do wonders for both.

The key to keeping the Creative and Critical minds happy is to acknowledge that what they are trying to add at the moment has value, and to pay attention to it, but don’t cater to it. If the Critical mind demands attention while you’re creating, record what it has to say and make a promise to yourself (that you’ll keep!) to address it in a timely manner after you’ve finished creating. And do the same for the Creative mind while you’re Critiquing. Think of them like siblings – you can’t treat one as a favorite and neglect the other — that leads to acting out, and stubborn resistance. Instead, acknowledge them when they pipe in, reward them with praise, but put your foot down and send them for a time out if they start fighting with each other.

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January 29, 2012

The Reading List – The Immortalization Commission, by John Gray

Filed under: Book Discussion — Tags: , — Brian Triber @ 4:01 pm


Image from the MacMillan website.

The Immortalization Commission, by John Gray

Published by Farrar, Straus, & Giroux, a division of Macmillian publishing.

Gray discusses the connections between Darwin, the Spiritualism movement of the late 19th to early 20th century, scientific inquiry into death, and how the scientific method has helped reclaim spirituality from science.

This is an interesting read, touching upon the key figures and movements in science, philosophy, psychology, and religion of the times that led to the co-development of the Soviet and Western studies of the human soul. It’s a slow read, containing rich language and many interconnected facts, and written almost like a doctoral thesis rife with cross-disciplinary research. Yet the text helps bring to life some of the personalities of the era to explain the scientific, spiritual, and religious drives that led to prevalent 20th Century thought on science and religion. It’s a good read, and worth the effort to reconnect with our current understanding of mortality.

UPDATE – I finally slogged my way through the end of the book, and while I still stand by my previous comments on the work, I have one additional observation. The author tends to put the veracity and validity of science on the same footing with that of religion. This feels a bit to me like apologism in an effort to appear not to be attacking religion. I contend that science, while not a complete philosophy of the universe, is still adaptive enough to allow it to survive the ravages of time, while religion transforms either into mythology, or is subsumed into another religious philosophy. These possibilities weren’t covered in the text, likely because they would have been besides the point. Still, the evolution of philosophy can be dissected in much the same philosophical way as the evolution of man. In some ways, a science or philosophy cannot be said to be valid unless it also accounts for its own creation, existence, and demise.

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October 26, 2011

Short, Sweet, and a Bit Late

Filed under: Uncategorized — Brian Triber @ 12:26 pm

Sometimes life catches up with you, and everything else goes awry. And sometimes you just lose track of time. I guess there’s no better time for lazing than the summer. That’s the reason I’m giving for not having posted anything on the blog since mid-August. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Yeah. It has nothing to do with the fact that my writing projects have been put on hold pending completion of the new office. It has nothing to do with volunteering with a local community group and helping design a 3-D model of a park layout for the fall festival (which went off well despite impending threats of inclement weather), or working on assistant stage managing that same festival, through an hour and a half delay and yet still getting all of the performers in before the stage had to be packed up. It also had nothing to do with reviewing a fellow writer’s first two and a third novels, and writing blurbs for the jacket copy. Or helping a friend get started in designing a web page for a local nonprofit dedicated to improving literacy in our community.

No. It was none of that at all. It was just my being lazy over the summer, soaking in the sunsets and petting the neighbor’s cat, enjoying slow dinners with my partner … and yelling at the politicians on the television because they’re too obtuse to realize politics has real world implications. And working my way up to level 14 in Farmville within a week after liking it on Facebook.

Goodbye to the summer of 2011, and God speed. Back to work.

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August 26, 2011

Aristotle’s Poetics — the Great Grand-Pappy of Writing Texts

Filed under: Aristotle's Poetics,Writing,Writing Tools — Tags: , , , , — Brian Triber @ 8:15 pm

Image by Kelson
[Public domain],
via Wikimedia Commons
Aristotle.

Following John Quincy Adams’ Lectures on Rhetoric and Oratory, and Gustav Freytag’s Technique of the Drama, I decided to work backwards to the text on writing that still inspires books on how to write: Aristotle’s Poetics.

While Adams covers primarily speech writing of all sorts, and Freytag covers 17th century German Drama, Aristotle addresses ancient Greek drama in three forms: Epic, Tragic, and Comic (which he gives a precursory nod to, and then summarily dismisses). Keep in mind that as one reads the text, there are several substitutions of terms that need to be kept in mind. First, whenever Aristotle refers to the poet, what he is really referring to is the playwright. Secondly, references to the “climax” should actually be considered to refer to a crisis. There are other odd semantical differences between ancient Greek and modern English dramatic definitions,l, but they are fairly obvious to the reader.

The only other major point behind editing and posting this work is that, while the work and translation are both in the public domain, and widely available, including on sites like Project Gutenberg, none of the available versions have the original Greek in the translated text. THe online texts, instead, contain Greek text spelled out with anglicized letters: for instance “{delta omega rho omicron nu}” instead of “&deta;ωρον”, which is both very distracting and does a disservice to the translation.

So, without further ado, enjoy my edition of Aristotle’s Poetics.

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August 1, 2011

Good Old Freytag. Gus to his friends…


Image by Gabor
[Public domain],
via Wikimedia Commons
Gustav Freytag.

I’ve just completed editing and posting Gustav Freytag’s Technique of the Drama to BrianTriber.com. I’ve yet to complete linking the Index to the rest of the text, but I’ll do that gradually. (It’s extremely time consuming and I have other projects that need attention — rest assured it will be done, but a lot of what an index used to do for books has been replaced by the computer’s Find function, so I feel less rushed about it.)

Of course, editing any text is like inhabiting the author’s world more intensely than simply reading it. It provides insight into not only the subject, but a taste of the way the writer thinks and structures (in this case, as was true with John Quincy Adams’ Lectures on Rhetoric and Oratory, the structure of the work was based on the structure discussed in the work.) So, there are a few thoughts unique to Freytag’s Technique that I’d like to share.

First, regarding Freytag and this particular work. There were points — infrequent but noticeable — when I found the text challenging not necessarily because of its subject, but its content. To clarify, Freytag was a product of his generation. As such, there were numerous nationalistic, racist, and sexist references in the text. If taken as a snapshot of the times, one realizes how much Freytag and his colleagues looked down upon female actors, Jews, and non-Germans in the theater setting. He was, of course, unaware of what would come down the pike almost half a century after his death, but as a time capsule, the piece certainly has future echoes of what would happen in Europe under the Kaiser and again under the Nazis.

Now, having said that, the book itself is an excellent deconstruction of theatrical arts in Germany circa 1880 or so (the sixth edition was translated into English in 1900). There are a few quirks regarding Freytag’s pyramid (on the right). The illustration, from Chapter 2 of the book, shows his pyramid. The quick breakdown is that each of the lettered nodes represents one of the five acts of the drama. The number of scenes per act is left up to the playwright. What the diagram may suggest (which you must be careful not to interpret it this way) is that the diagram is not only chronological, but also to scale. In other words, that each of the acts appear to take the same amount of stage time. The truth is, as derived from the text, that each act’s performance time is dependent on the number of scenes in the act. So, for instance, The Merchant of Venice is comprised of five acts, but the climax actually occurs about two-thirds through the play, and the catastrophe (more often referred to as the denouement) is the last eighth of the performance time.


Parts of the Drama: (a)introduction, (b)rise, (c)climax, (d)return or fall, (e)catastrophe.

Shakespearean theater evolved, of course, into other forms in other regions. Eventually German theater, modern English theater, Yiddish theater, and American theater all gave way to the motion picture and its 3-act structure (or 4-act structure, depending upon who you ask). This same 5-act structure finds its way into television, with 4 commercial breaks. This means that the introduction now takes 30 seconds or up to five minutes at the start of the show, the rise around 20 minutes, starting after the first commercial break and bringing us to the middle of the segment after the second commercial break. The climax and return take around five minutes toward the end of this same segment, and the catastrophe completes the show at around 30 seconds following the last commercial break. In film, Freytag’s five acts are broken into approximately 30, 30, 30, 20, and 10 minutes respectively, although with some action films, like the Transformers franchise, the climax is exaggerated into an hour-long spectacle, the return and catastrophe given barely 5 minutes to split between them.

The point here is that the dramatic form has been evolving over time to lean more heavily on the middle of the story, and simultaneously truncating the end of the story. I’m not sure what this says about our viewing habits, wether we’re being re-trained to appreciate a new structure, or whether the marketplace is pressuring film and television to adopt to the viewing public’s changing tastes. After alL, in a world of short-attention-span, it becomes difficult to keep the viewer after the climax has been resolved — once the emotional buy-in for the main characters have been resolved at the climax, how does one keep such an audience’s attention into the denouement? The answer seems to be to truncate the ending. (Television and movie series seem to have a leg up on this since multiple story lines are interwoven and get resolved in different episodes, so the denouement only has to address the main story line of the episode. Torchwood, Season 2 is a good example of this.)

Then the question becomes: do authors adopt their story structure to match the visual media to increase their audience? This seems like a slippery slope, but at the same time, it’s worthy of an experiment. After all, if the goal is to get a message across, shouldn’t it be tailored to the audience? I realize that this can border on agitprop, but there are stories that may benefit from this. Still, there is a reason the novel form still exists as it does, but you’ll notice it is much changed from where it was 75 or 150 years ago. I suppose the real answer will come along in the future, as our media continues to change. Who knows what impact the e-book will have on structure?

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July 28, 2011

Freytag’s “Technique of the Drama” — Chapter VI now available.


Image by Gabor
[Public domain],
via Wikimedia Commons
Gustav Freytag.

Chapter VI of Gustav Freytag’s Technique of the Drama is now available on the Technique of Drama page.

This section covers the following topics on playwriting and stage drama: Material. Work. Fitting for the stage. Cutting out. Length of the piece. Acquaintance with the stage.

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July 27, 2011

Freytag’s “Technique of the Drama” — Chapter V now available.


Image by Gabor
[Public domain],
via Wikimedia Commons
Gustav Freytag.

Chapter V of Gustav Freytag’s Technique of the Drama is now available on the Technique of Drama page.

This section covers the following topics on playwriting and stage drama: Iambic pentameter. Tetrameter. Trimeter. Alexandrine. Verse of the Nibelungen Lied. Dramatic element of verse. Color.

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July 26, 2011

Freytag’s “Technique of the Drama” — Chapter IV, Part 3 now available.


Image by Gabor
[Public domain],
via Wikimedia Commons
Gustav Freytag.

Chapter IV, Part 3 of Gustav Freytag’s Technique of the Drama is now available on the Technique of Drama page.

This section covers the following topics on playwriting and stage drama: The characters must have dramatic unity. The drama must have but one chief hero. Double heroes. Lovers. The action must be based on characteristics of the persons. Easily understood. Mingling of good and evil. Humor. Accident. The characters in the different acts. Demands of the actor. The conception of the stage arrangement must be vivid in the poet’s mind. The province of the spectacle play. What is it to write effectively?

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