You don't have to watch the whole thing, but a long time ago, I mentioned how SEGA of Japan DID NOT approve of Sonic's actions in this scene, and now, you can see they've edited it to be more within his character.
I had some people messaging me about where I got that fact, it was an old Youtube video just after Sonic Generations, but I couldn't tell them where. At least you see now that my information I got from that video was accurate after all these years, cause they did end up changing it once SEGA of Japan was in charge of Sonic x Shadow Generations!
Hi! I just found your blog and I already love it. I think I’m fairly okay with writing. I have about six-ish drafts of books already written and tons of half-baked ideas that I would love to work with. I’ve been writing books since 6th grade. (I’m a junior now.) Anyways, my biggest problem is scene transitions, like when a character goes to a new location or something like that. I usually just cut it off with a double line, but it feels...dry and boring. How would you advice I fix this problem?
hey there @improbablystilldrunk thanks so much! :D
Six drafts of books is absolutely amazing!! Well done! xD
I would suggest scene changes with new paragraphs or chapters. Are you breaking your story up in the right places? The double lines are a great place holder for your first drafts. It is in the editing stages where you really have to pay attention to the formatting and layout of your book. Where the pauses are can be very important for the timing and pacing at which your reader consumes your story.
Personally I like scene changes that start with dialogue. So you’ll end the first part with something that sounds like a conclusion, like ‘ looking into Tony’s eyes, Abigail knew exactly what she needed to do.” and then when you are in the next location, you start the paragraph in the middle of an action, like “ Hey Abby, What are you doing here” Steve gestured wildly at them as they arrived at the pier.
Don’t forget to read lots and really pay attention to the way that other writers do the things that you are struggling with. Observe how their scene transitions sound and see if you can apply the same style of thing into your own work.
Just keep writing and playing with it! :) You got this!
I have decided to change a few scenes because of the original awkward perspectives I had placed my character in. This mainly has been changed due to my shots being too wide and not focused on the action in a shot so now it should be more clear what the character is doing.
This also included me adding a new shot from with inside the vending machine which would have a light foggy layer on top to represent the screen protecting what’s inside. My character (Lyle) would be walking past from the right to left then comes back to inspect what’s inside. This allows the first close-up shot of him in the animation.
This past Tuesday, I had an underwhelming experience with the LA Phil. The concert was an "All-American" chamber show, the first offering in their "Next on Grand" series, a celebration of contemporary American composers. The underwhelmingness wasn't the fault of the music, or not entirely. As with most grab-bag contemporary concerts, I was fonder of some selections than others, despite the consistently high level of performance on display. No, the music alone was fine. What really bothered me were the set changes.
I get it. On a concert like this, you're going to have to move some furniture. The first piece was for two trumpets and involved some spatial elements, meaning that the stage had to be bare so that the players could walk around freely. Next up was a piece for piano, clarinet, violin, and cello, and there's simply no way to go from "piano offstage" to "piano onstage" without, you know, wheeling a piano onstage. I don't begrudge them this physical necessity. I do begrudge them the tedium.
Because, you see, their modus operandi was to leave the house lights down and have stagehands shift everything around in silence. And this is really boring. Like, really, truly mind-numbing. It's too dark to read the program (regardless of how interesting the bios are) and there's still enough of the "middle of a concert" vibe that it feels awkward talking, even if you happen to have come with someone. Literally the only thing to do is watch the stagehands putter about, and let's be real, this is hardly riveting. In absolute time, the longest of these changeovers was probably only a few minutes, but under such conditions, even a few minutes feel like an agony.
It cost them audience members, too. During the interminable changeover between the second and third pieces, I noticed several people get up and leave the hall. I obviously didn't chase after them and give them exit interviews, but given the timing and the vibe from those closest to me, I got the unmistakable impression that they were leaving because they were on the fence about staying after the second piece and were tired of waiting for the start of the third.
Look at it like this: There were a total of six pieces on the program, each needing a different setup than the one before it. There was built-in time for one of those changes during the intermission, but that still left a total of four mid-concert breaks. Even if the lights had come up or everyone had a scintillating conversationalist next to them, that's still four built-in places where the audience is effectively encouraged to disengage from whatever's happening on stage and turn their attention elsewhere. Assuming that you'd like to engage your audience and keep them that way — and most performers in the current moment do seem to want to engage their audiences deeply — this is obviously a suboptimal strategy. Ideally, you'd create a scenario where you have no places that make the audience turn away; you'd capture their attention once, at the start, and then have it until the end.
(This, incidentally, is a big motivating factor for scene change music in theatrical contexts. Sure, it can serve other functions in terms of key centers, motivic development, and so on, but the main reason it's there is to keep the audience from drifting back out of the world of the show, to keep them engrossed from the moment the curtain goes up to the moment it goes back down.)
And the most frustrating thing was how close they were to fixing this. Because at two points during the evening, one of the players talked about the piece they were going to be playing, in both cases at quite some length. Only they only did this once the stage was completely set; the stage change and the verbal program note were two different events.
Combine them. If you have to have a set change, come out and talk while it's happening. Tell us what to expect from the music, tell us why it's significant to you; connect with us as a person so that we're not watching anonymous, amorphous strangers plow thru something we've never heard. Break down the barriers between the performers and the audience. And, critically, keep our attention focussed on what's going on on stage; don't give us any time to drift away. Nothing should ever be more interesting to the audience than what's happening on stage during a performance.
This seems like a petty thing, but I think it's absolutely necessary to think about when planning a top-quality performance. I don't think that audience experience should be the only consideration in concert design, but to ignore it completely is a grave error. To be honest, the Next on Grand concert felt almost disrespectful, disdainful on that front, as if it radiated an entitled attitude of taking the audience for granted. "We'll have your attention whenever we want it,", was the impression it sent, "And we're not going to do anything so tawdry as to consider your needs, to do anything to earn that attention for a solid two hours." Don't do this. Consider your audience. If you don't want to talk, fine, but do something. Don't leave us twiddling our thumbs in the dark.
