Karate Camp 2013

Karate Camp is always a great--albeit exhausting--experience. But this year just seemed extra wonderful. I got to spend my time working with upcoming black belt candidates (my favorite group to teach) and being a pseudo counselor for the kids and junior counselors who were in the lodge rather than the main cabin this year.

The pattern for the kata Passai is now mine, so I can begin working on its lessons. Dev learned three new basic weapons katas that he has promised to pass along to me as well.

Best of all, I got to catch up with old friends, make a couple new ones, and see kids who'd never spent a night away from home find their confidence and evidence by the end of the week. I even spent about an hour with a fellow student and teacher who is interested in self-publishing his work.

Now, laundry is progress, the dogs aren't letting me out of their sight, and the work week starts all over on Monday.

And just for fun, here is Dev as The Doctor.

Plotting Again

An added benefit of karate camp--wherein I spent hours coaching students on the strategy of defending against multiple attackers, other hours considering the best strategies to communicate with parents, and yet more hours determining what motivates kids to make good choices under tough circumstances--was the ability to see my plotting with a sharper eye.

So why doesn't Syrina tell her Big Secret to the exiles at the earliest opportunity?

Because I hadn't thought to do that in the first draft, then just let that choice ride through all subsequent revisions.

Why did I let it ride?

Because I couldn't figure out and manage the consequences of her revealing the Big Secret.

Then I began to wonder about that last answer. How many stories have a "Why didn't she just do X?" moment because the writer was unable to think through the consequences of X? Because the writer cannot--due to inexperience--see what would follow said revelation? (And I mention inexperience because I found those at the foundation of my own un-choices.) How much of it is a hesitation to reveal because, in real life, the writer would herself hesitate to face the changes such a revelation would cause?

Or is it just me?

So now I'm on a kick of analyzing my "revelation" choices all over the place--determining if keeping a secret enhances the plot or manipulates it.  Looking at the reasons behind the choices.  Forcing myself to consider if the choices were made for convenience.

In this case, revealing the Big Secret creates a massive ground shift in the motivation and outlook of several characters, and greatly alters the reasons later choices are made. But--as with the worldbuilding changes I made earlier--it doesn't change the story I wanted to tell.

Oddly enough, I chose to work on Sand of Bone because I thought it would be a relatively simple task to edit. Instead, I've opened the Pandora's Box of revisions.