#narrative patterns

[very-grownup]

Ace Attorney game parallels (no, not that one, or that one, or that one ...)

One of the interesting things about the Great Ace Attorney in the evolution of Shu Takumi's Ace Attorney games is the maturation of "Weird Girl Assistant".

Our original trilogy Weird Girl Assistant is Maya Fey (obviously a perfect being beloved by everyone with taste why can't I preorder that Nendroid yet motherfuckers?), who is all heart and ... not so much knowledge, but a conduit to Mia’s knowledge. She doesn’t personally possess any legal knowledge, but she’s integral for Phoenix in accessing knowledge that would otherwise be denied to him due to Mia’s untimely death. She’s fully Weird in her Assisting.

Apollo Justice has Trucy Wright (obviously a perfect being beloved by everyone with taste), who is a lot of heart but not all heart. She has personal knowledge to impart to Apollo, regarding the perceive ability and his bracelet. It’s integral assisting to how the trials in that game will reach pivotal points, which makes it genuine Assisting, even if outside of that Trucy is plenty Weird. I would argue this is distinctive from the Phoneix-Magatama matter in the original trilogy (it’s easy to forget that Nick doesn’t even have the magatama in the first game) because Trucy is, essentially, teaching Apollo to do something he technically can already do, whereas the magatama is something Phoenix is given by an outside source still connected to the mentor (Pearl). Narratively and thematically they’re different, even if mechanically they function similarly.

Years later, the Great Ace Attorney gave us Susato Mikotoba (obviously a perfect being beloved by everyone with taste). Susato is an /actual trained legal assistant/ to the point she can masquerade as a lawyer in the second game's tutorial. She could BE the lawyer as easily at Ryunosuke, save for her sex in the historical setting of the game. She Assists like no one’s business and her Weird is no weirder than Ryunosuke himself, two young people who grew up in a country with recently opened borders, in a foreign country for the first time. 

A reflection of a maturation in Takumi's depiction of female characters, a general wider consciousness of feminism in popular culture in Japan (something I am in no way qualified to discuss), a third possibility? I don’t think it’s fair or accurate to say that the evolution of the Weird Girl Assistant into an actual competent assistant is a sign of the games ‘maturing’. For all their goofiness there has always been a serious, darker tone in the games compared to the adventure game standbys of North America. It’s built into the series from the choice to have Phoenix’ second case involve the solving of his boss and mentor’s murder.

There may also be something in the connection between the tutorial mentor and the Weird Girl Assistant, holding the balance of knowledge between them like the centre of a seesaw.

The connection with Mia and Maya is obvious: they’re sisters and perfectly mirror each other in their relation to what they bring to Phoenix. Mia on a pedestal of legal knowledge, forever older and wiser than Nick, as her death fixes her on that pedestal. Mia and Nick never get to be colleagues, equals. On the other end, enthusiastic but underage Maya, someone Nick will always be older than and always be wiser than in the legal sense. We don’t know how an older Maya might have fit with the disbarred Phoenix Takumi left the series with; maybe it didn’t matter and outside the confines of the Lawyer Protagonist and Weird Girl Assistant, Maya could stop being a mirror for her sister.

Similarly, Kazuma and Susato are sibling-like. Kazuma, like Mia, is the tutorial mentor, but he’s only a mentor to Ryunosuke because he’s a law student and Ryunosuke isn’t. He doesn’t have that much more knowledge than Ryunosuke and I think it correlates that he doesn’t have that much more knowledge than Susato, the girl who expected to be his legal assistant. There is something like equality here between the Mentor and the Weird Girl Assistant when neither precisely fits their role mold. Kazuma is, I think, as weird as Susato is knowledgeable.

BUT WHAT ABOUT --

Bitch, you know I've always got Apollo Justice opinions to drop.

In Apollo Justice, Kristoph is a fully knowledgeable mentor to Apollo. He is an actual lawyer, he is Apollo’s senior, and he is Apollo’s employer. In these ways, he is on all fours with Mia.

Aside from being the murderer.

There is, frankly, an entire other thing to get into with the tutorial mentors and how their stories intersect with death and a turning point in their respective protagonist’s life and career but this is about Weird Girl Assistants.

So.

What is Kristoph Gavin’s Weird Girl Assistant connection?

THE INCIDENT.

Seven years earlier, in Zak Gramarye’s trial, Trucy is used by Kristoph to deliver fake evidence to Phoenix, leading to Nick’s disbarment.

In Apollo’s tutorial trial, for the murderer of Shadi Smith/Zak Gramarye, Trucy is used by Phoenix to deliver fake evidence to Apollo, leading to Kristoph's arrest (and possibly his disbarment but who knows in the world of Ace Attorney and Japanifornia).

I have nothing but love for Trucy, but she's the shifty, deceitful Weird Girl Assistant to follow a shifty, deceitful Tutorial Mentor in a game about disillusionment and broken trust, following a trilogy about believing in yourself, your instincts, and redemption, and preceding two games riding a balance between hope and despair, with part of that balance being a more equal partnership between the Attorney and his Weird Girl Assistant.

[bookswithbenefitspress-blog]

Write It: "Bite Me" and the Narrative Pattern

When you write a book, especially the first time, a lot of different experiences and thoughts bloom for the first time: "Oh my God, I wrote a book," "So...I just press send," or "crap...did I change that sentence?" 

But the reality is that the writing process doesn't change; we as writers do. Whether you're a perfectionist or a "git r done" writer, you're probably going to struggle with the writing process and the challenge of making your stories come to life.

There are a lot of books, guides, support groups, and writing groups out there that will help you hone your craft, but sometimes it's something you want and/or need to do on your own. The cold, hard truth is that when you take the advice, techniques, and goals to your papers...it's just you in that moment. 

Our "Write It" features are geared toward helping you practice crafting your writing on your own (or in your writing crew). 

This week, we are looking at the narrative pattern of a story. We're going big to small. Think of it like crafting a sculpture. You're taking the solid mass of your writing (your beautiful pretty marble), and you're slowly chipping away at it to craft fine detail. I've taken the liberty of throwing up my own first, published short story (as April Oglesbee, "Bite Me") to give you an example. It's painful, but it's for a good cause. So what is narrative pattern you ask?

The Narrative Pattern or Structure is the mix of things like grammar, word choice, sentence pattern, dialogue, and description in your writing. Basically, it is the movement or lack of movement that develops ideas and patterns for your readers. It creates the mood. It also sets up the framework of your story as you go. While it should be consistent in tone (your author's voice), it should also create continual movement and interest for your reader. In the case of "Bite Me," I've included the first sentence of every paragraph. Look for purpose, language, and understanding. It's not the whole first chapter, but it should give you a sense of the story itself. If it doesn't...uh oh.

1. “I am so screwed.” 

Here is the first line of the entire short story. This is something I like to do when I write, my author's voice coming out; I like to create an immediate sense of "what the hell?" It can backfire sometimes, but it can also act as a great lure. 

2. Astrid peeked around the corner of the building where she was currently skulking in the dark, trying to catch a glimpse of the very famous Cam Maddox, guitarist extraordinaire for a surprisingly successful band. 

Here I've introduced the two main characters of the story and a bare minimum of description for each of them: Cam = famous artist and Astrid = in the shadows and lurker. Is she a stalker? Why is she hiding? This isn't a bad start.

3. Astrid wasn’t afraid of dark alleys. 

More about Astrid here. She's not afraid of dark alleys. Got it. What is she afraid of? There's an implication...I wish I had been a little clearer in implying she IS afraid of something.

4. “Okay, okay, okay...come on Astrid. ["]

Here Astrid is trying to talk herself into doing something. In terms of characterization, I'm not entirely fond of the self-talk thing, but in a short story, it's a great (and fast) way to establish characterization. She talks to herself (perhaps implying shyness) and she doesn't want to do whatever it is she's about to do. Done.

5. “You should have given yourself this pep talk three years ago when you were given this job.” 

Uh-oh. Some self-hatred and procrastination. Astrid is a little bit of a hot mess, eh? More characterization.

6. “Oh shut up, Ari.” 

Quick intro of a new character (Ari, her brother and supervisor). While she's shy, she doesn't appear to be afraid of Ari. He must be a good brother.

7. “Just trying to make sure you do your job, little one.” 

8. “I’ll do my job.["]

9. “Actually, yes. Yes, you could have.” 

10. “Oh stuff it, Ari.["]

11. “I know you like him, Astrid,” he held his long hand up to silence her when she would have objected, “but you have to do this.["]

12. “I know, Ari. I get it.” 

13. “Do you, Astrid?["]

14. “Ari, what do you want me to say?["] 

15. “You’re not crazy, Astrid. 

What we have here is a dialogue exchange. Notice that the first line of every paragraph (7-15) is dialogue and that not much seems to be missing from what you're hearing. It's also establishing more about the scene that's important to understand. What is her job anyway? Why is there this underlying obsession? Who are these people?

16. Ari, generally, was more prone to giving commands than he was to comforting. 

17. Astrid had a job to do. 

18. “Ok, ok. Just...leave me alone. 

19. “I do not skulk.” 

Poor Astrid. She's clearly in a tough spot, but if I wrote this over again, I think I'd be a little less mysterious about why we should feel so bad for her. She's an anxious character and that's clear, but her job isn't necessarily. While mystery is certainly compelling, I don't want to irritate the crap out of my readers either.

20. This was the last concert Cam would ever play, even if he didn’t know it yet. 

Wait? She has to kill him? Nooooooooooooooo...I wasn't clear. Damn me.

21. When the cheers rose to a deafening roar, Astrid knew he was on his way. 

Oh, yes. Here we go. The action is afoot. 

So...what is the evaluation here? The Narrative Pattern I'm looking at in "Bite Me" is a version of bait and switch. Look, we know some background stuff we want from the first salvo of a story: introduce the main characters, establish some kind of conflict, and draw the reader's interest. On the positive front, it does this. I think the author's voice, my voice, is fairly present. There's a sense of humor and urgency. The dialogue pulls the reader through quickly, developing the impending sense of doom as well. The pacing is efficient.

Here's what I'd do differently. From an editorial standpoint, it's not entirely clear what the conflict is for Astrid, the main character. Additionally, we're not really sure who or what she is to the other characters. While a lot of that can be worked out later in the story, my main goal should be not to piss off readers as I also entice them. 

But, broad brush strokes...it's there. Truly, I love this story. I like an imperfect heroine and oblivious hero.

Join us next week we for a workshop on Sentence Patterns.

[drsilverfish]

A writer's tale...

 A young woman with special abilities and the handler who loves her.

Your write this story, and the first time you write it, it’s full of subversion and wit.

The second time you write it, an old god eats up the young woman inside and takes her shell.

The third time you write it, she’s mentally unstable. The government did this to her.

The fourth time you write it, she’s mind-wiped and prostituted over and over. A corporation did this to her.

The fifth time you write it, alien DNA infects her. She works for the government.

But you still love her, you’re her handler.

And you hardly notice, that each time you write her, she’s less free.

[schuylernull]

It’s in the nature of grand structural transformations that we will always have great difficulty picturing what the end-state would look like. And because we feel we have to, we tend not to, falling back on the narrative patterns we know better.

Aaron Bady: "The Jimmy McNulty Gambit: Mike Daisey and the Thickening Crust of Our Awareness"