The "Brenda" Gets You to "Donna" Plotting Method

At trivia last night, I was stuck on a question about Parks and Recreation. Which two characters from that show, the quizmaster asked, celebrated an annual "Treat Yo Self" day? I love Parks and Rec, so I was pumped to get this one in a snap. And Tom's name popped right into my head.

Yes! Halfway there!

And then, as happens so often at trivia, my brain decided to just block me on remembering Donna. I could picture her. I could hear her and Tom exclaiming in unison, "Treat yo self!" But I had nothing. The song they were playing to count down the time limit got really loud in my head. Nobody else on the team had a clue. I was about to cost us points by blowing what ought to be an easy question for me. The pressure made my brain freeze even harder.

So I just thought, Start writing names. Anything. It's kind of a normal name, right? But not one that's super-popular anymore ...

I wrote down "Brenda."

BZZT. WRONG.

It wasn't Brenda, but ... 

Instead of further panic, my mind eased into this you're-on-the-right-track mode. I put the pencil to the answer slip again.

"Donna."

A couple of criteria, making the decision to act instead of giving up, a little luck hitting three of the right six letters, including the final vowel, and bam. I had it. Tom and Donna celebrated Treat Yo Self day every year on Parks and Rec.

Score!

Also at trivia last night, I told my friend Joe about the stab I recently took at starting a new novel. Don't do it, Herb, I thought, you're going to jinx yourself. You're only 3k words in and you have no idea where it's going ... 

But I told him anyway.

So this morning, with the day off, I got up and sat at my computer determined to push through a thousand or two words to keep my momentum going. And I when I opened up the file, I saw the handful of chapter titles I'd brainstormed up a few days ago in an attempt to cobble together at least some kind of outline. The title of chapter two kinda sorta meant something in the context of the two-and-a-half scenes I've written on chapter one. But none of the rest of it hung together at all. The half-done scene three needed someplace for the characters to go once it was done, and some reason for them to go there. But where, and what? And then what?

Just write some more chapter titles. Anything. Some place names. Throw some words together.

"The Lower Elder Elvendale."

Awesome. If it's the 'lower' something, what's the 'upper' part of it? Why's the upper part separate from the lower part? Well, if it's a valley, it's got a river, right? And if there's an upper valley and a lower valley, how are they split? Waterfalls. Are the characters going to go up the falls? What are the falls called? I guess there are elves here ...

"Up the Fey Falls."

Then ... they've got to do something at the top of the falls, in the upper valley. I dunno what. But that will get them out of the valley, and then where do they go? It can't just come out of nowhere. It needs to tie into something that's already happened or the story's just a bunch of random wandering.

Well, in scene one, I'd had someone tell about a battle where a famed human warrior cracked the Giant King's skull.

"Chapter VIII: The Giant King's Skull."

Why would they need to revisit the Giant King's skull? Why is it even something they could revisit? And this is all going great, but how do they get from the titles I wrote down for chapters two through five, to being in the Lower Elder Elvendale?

Click.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Click.

A couple of criteria, some essentially random stuff I'd already written, a commitment to write something instead of giving up, and suddenly a crap-ton of story was falling into place. The first two-and-a-half scenes, which I'd had fun writing but felt no certainty would go anywhere, had turned into a story foundation I'm now really excited about. I have actionable ideas for the first eleven or twelve chapters in the book.

And I one-hundred-percent promise you, if I hadn't written "Brenda" down last night, I never would have gotten "Donna." The song would have run out, and those points would be gone.

You can't just sit there and wait for it to come to you, you know?

Public Service Announcement

I've been on a mild antidepressant for years without ever being certain how much it actually does. As is often the case with long-term medications, this year, my prescription expired well before my annual physical, meaning the online pharmacy my work requires me to use had to contact my physician's office for refills. This is a task they've somehow gotten worse at over the years rather than better, and their batting average in 2020 has been especially poor. To make a long story medium length, I ran out about three weeks ago, with about a week and a half to go until my doctor's appointment.

Since I haven't had any really bad depressive episodes in quite a while, just low-grade ups-and-downs, I didn't push for a temporary supply to tide me over, and at the appointment discussed with the P.A. whether it would be a good time to test the waters of going off the medication entirely. Since I hadn't noticed any difference during the time I'd gone without, she agreed it would be reasonable to try, so when the online pharmacy finally delivered the prescription last week, I just put it in the drawer and continued monitoring my mood.

Yesterday, a typical collection of work-related annoyances piled up on one another in slightly larger numbers than normal, and I went in the kitchen to get an early lunch despite not being hungry. While chiding myself for stress-eating, I opened the freezer and was confronted by a choice between two equally unhealthy frozen junk-food entrees -- and as I gloomily struggled to pick, the choice got harder and harder, and a spike of depressive angst just about dropped me to the floor.

The emotion spiralled me downward so quickly, and so clearly exceeded any proportionate response to the triggering stimuli, it basically announced with a bullhorn that it was symptomatic and not ordinary, healthy brain function at all. It might as well have been a sneeze or a sudden rush of allergy-driven eye-watering.

So I went in and took my bupropion, and I've been fine ever since.

The moral of this story is that, while depression is a complex collection of mental health conditions, some portion of it in some people is driven or at least worsened by straightforward brain chemistry issues that respond to targeted medication almost as readily as fevers and headaches do.

If you struggle with chronic depression and have resisted trying medication, stop thinking that it reflects poorly on you if you need chemical assistance to help control your symptoms. "My head really hurts, but I ought to be strong enough to get through without taking an ibuprofen," is kind of a silly thing to think, and for a lot of people, it's equally silly to say, "I feel so down all the time, but I ought to be strong enough to get through without taking an antidepressant."

Disclosure: I ended up making both the frozen burritos and the frozen cheeseburger sliders, and my stomach was unhappy with me, but I don't regret it.

I Like ‘Picard’ So Far, But ...

CBS All Access needs to tell their Star Trek writers to stop doing this.

Interior, Character A's (study/ready room/lab). Character B enters dramatically.

Character B: I have news.

Character A: What is it?

Character B: I suspect ... you already know exactly what it is.

Character A: No. So soon? This changes everything.

Character B: In ways we cannot begin to describe.

Character A: Be careful, Character B. That kind of talk can have consequences. Unspecified consequences ... so unspecified, in fact, that you would regret ever learning their specifics.

Character B: I understand.

Character A: Do you, though? Do you truly understand?

Character B: More than you could ever know. You see, I too can reveal the possibility of unspecified consequences. And for your sake, I hope you grasp the implications of that.

A very smart family member whom I admire recently shared this quote on Facebook:

My response was this:

It doesn’t take a moral law to recognize suffering. It doesn’t take a moral law to recognize enjoyment. It therefore doesn’t take a moral law to recognize someone taking enjoyment from the suffering of others. It doesn’t require a moral law to care about your friends' and family members’ well-being. It therefore doesn’t require a moral law to dislike the idea of someone taking enjoyment from your suffering or that of your friends and family members. It doesn’t require a moral law to feel a sense of small friendship with a stranger who smiles at you as she rings up your purchases at the grocery store, or one who says, “Here, let me get that door for you” when your hands are full. It therefore does not require a moral law to dislike the idea of someone taking pleasure in the suffering of strangers.

Cruelty and exploitation and spitefulness are not Evil, but they are evils with a lowercase “e,” and they don’t require a moral law to recognize. They only require empathy, which is a quality readily observed in almost all social animals.

When we require adherence to a moral law that is given by a law-giver, we de-emphasize the importance of empathy. And we enable power-hungry people to further undermine empathy through the creation of cruel laws.

We do not have or need laws to enforce morality. We have and need them because some individuals lack sufficient empathy and/or understanding to behave in a manner that avoids unnecessary suffering. And since laws can cause unintended suffering or even deliberate suffering, they cannot be regarded as the embodiment of morality. Rather, they are a necessary evil which we must always regard through the watchful lens of our empathy.

One is, of course, perfectly welcome to believe that empathy has a higher source. But if so, then having granted us empathy, that source has also granted us the only need for and path toward law that is required. Any declaration of a moral law distinct from empathy is therefore unable to prove itself in the way that the author of the quote attempts to demonstrate. It may be accepted as a given by those who so choose. But in mathematical and logical proofs, we should remember that what is given is by definition not proven.

I thought I demonstrated a lot of empathy by writing it that way instead of just saying, "I call B.S. on this quote."

Westworld: What's in a Name?

You know those shows you watch, the ones with lots of big arcs and mysteries that make you wonder if it's all headed somewhere, or if the creators are just making it up seat-of-the-pants as they go along? Battlestar Galactica and Lost come to mind as examples -- stories that delve into the metaphysical and create uncertainty about the nature of the reality experienced by the characters.

Usually, at some point, they give away their hand. The time for payoff arrives -- maybe for a plot thread that's run through one season, maybe for the series as a whole -- and you realize that they've been winging it.

That's not Westworld.

As I watched the first season, I kept worrying that I'd traveled this path before. Apparent inconsistencies and odd bits of presentation made me think, "Yeah, these pieces aren't all fitting together smoothly," or, "Huh? That seems like a mistake."

No.

Westworld is one of the most carefully constructed television shows I've ever seen -- to such an extent that it almost commands me to write about it.

So here's a start, a taste of Westworld's oceanic depth of thought and planning. I'll try to avoid spoilers, but some of this will make sense only if you've watched the show. If you haven't, I highly recommend you do so.

Let's begin with a partial list of characters from the show.

Dr. Robert Ford
Bernard Lowe
Dolores Abernathy
Theodore "Teddy" Flood
Maeve Millay
William
Logan

William and Logan are visitors to the park. William is a thoughtful, sensitive fellow who's hesitant about the attractions of Westworld -- the carnality, the violence. He meets and quickly grows entranced with rancher's daughter Dolores Abernathy, a synthetic "host" within the park. Logan, meanwhile, is a shallow thrill-seeker intent on making the most of Westworld's unbounded opportunities for self-indulgence.

What does the name "William" mean? Resolute protector. And "Logan"? Hollow.

Maeve Millay is madam at the town brothel in Westworld's main village. She's played with deliriously entrancing verve by Thandie Newton, and both her beauty and her personality magnetize the susceptible whenever she's onscreen.

"Maeve" means "she who intoxicates." Millay could be a play on "milady" -- or it could be a licentious bit of punnery, since "mille" is one-thousandth and "lay" is pretty self-explanatory.

Next, we get a little deeper. Robert Ford serves as creative director of Westworld, having created it decades ago with his partner, Arnold. The two of them invented and programmed the hosts who form the main attraction of the park, and while Arnold died tragically before the place opened, Robert has carried on through a career of genius and fame. Fittingly, "Robert" means famed, bright, or shining.

And "Ford?" A ford is a river crossing, a place where a journey can proceed from one side of dividing waters to the other.

Why can a river be crossed at a ford? Because the water there is low.

Bernard Lowe serves as Ford's right hand. Almost everything Ford achieves, Bernard enables in some way, through his technical wizardry or his stout, quiet loyalty. Like Ford, he's brilliant -- but he's about the least flashy genius you could imagine -- quiet, calm, and humble. That is to say, he speaks in a low volume, his behavior is low-key, and his ambition is virtually non-existent. As the series progresses, we find out how much he has endured over the years and how difficult he is to cow. This is where "Bernard" comes in. It means, "hardy, strong, or brave as a bear."

Now, if low water permits a Ford to do its job, high water might be expected to prevent it. But Teddy Flood doesn't impede Dr. Ford in the least. He's a square-jawed, simplistic character who plays the noble, long-suffering Romeo to Dolores Abernathy's Juliet. As one of the park's artificial hosts, he's completely under Ford's control. "Teddy" might even imply that he's a toy. So what's the significance of "Flood?" Well, midway through the season, the villainous Man in Black (Ed Harris) has an encounter with Dr. Ford, and when he threatens the park's master, Teddy Flood stops him.

Of course, a flood will prevent you from crossing a ford.

As for "Theodore," it means, "God's gift." Possibly, it's sheer coincidence that Michaelangelo's "The Creation of Adam" has an important moment toward the end of the season. But I really don't think there's a lot of coincidence going on in this show.

Finally, there's Dolores Abernathy. "Dolores" is an easy one, even a bit heavy-handed. Plenty of people will already know that the name means, "sorrow." And Dolores more than almost any other character goes through all kinds of hell through the course of the story. But what about Abernathy? Seems like just a handy name for a ranch family, with a bit of a quaint or old-timey ring to it. Nothing watery or river-y about it, right? Actually, as it turns out Abernathy is a place name. It means, "mouth of the Nethy River." Okay, there's a river in there after all! And the mouth of a river is where it meets the sea, right? Dolores repeatedly brings up a dream image she has, of a place "where the mountains meet the sea." She feels this place calling to her -- it symbolizes home and safety and some ineffable goal she can't quite understand. Holy cow, does the Nethy River flow through mountains where they meet the sea?

A little geographic Internet searching provided me with the answer. Now, like I said, I'm trying to avoid spoilers. Dolores is on a journey, and wants to find a place where the mountains meet the sea. If "Abernathy" pinpoints a place where the river Nethy flows through mountains and reaches the sea, that might give something away. On the other hand, if it flows through mountains and doesn't reach the sea, that's kind of foreshadowing too, isn't it? So all I'll say is, the Nethy is a river in Scotland that flows through the Cairngorm mountains.

It gets at least pretty close to the sea.

Is all this just my obsessive imagination run wild? Maybe. One of my searches while writing this turned up a name-based analysis of the show with some completely different interpretations and references. It could just be a fluke that four of the main characters have names that are water- or river-related, and that those names are descriptive of their relative roles and actions in the show.

But perhaps a greater point is that the show supports this depth of thinking. There's a huge amount going on in every episode, including tiny details that mean nothing the first time you watch an episode, but make your eyes bug out when you re-watch with an understanding of the season finale.

If you like entertainment that expects you to think, and you haven't already done so, you should check it out.

Luka's Dawn by A.M. Manay!

I've thoroughly enjoyed the November Snow series by my fellow Self-Published Indie Network author, A.M. Manay. It's a vampire-faerie-werewolf-psychic adventure extravaganza with a huge cast of intriguing characters and an appealing mix of fun, thrills, thought, and heart.

If this sounds like a good combo to you, I'll call your attention to the newest addition, a short story called "Luka's Dawn" -- although spoiler-phobes will want to start at the beginning, since this one is pretty much chock-full of important details about the rest of the series. Manay has a clever way of playing with spoilers, though: the first November Snow book is truthfully called She Dies at the End, and even when the foreshadowing makes you certain what's coming, things still surprise you when you get there.

Anyway, I had the privilege of beta-reading "Luka's Dawn," and it's a splendid addition to the series. You can pre-order it here if interested!

One of my compatriots at the Alliance of Self Published Authors, W.O. Cassity, is releasing a Lovecraftian horror story next month.

Here's a short excerpt for all who might be interested:

     Skulking over the ledger’s musty-scented pages, Dr. Livingston dipped the oversized quill into the emerald-green inkwell before penning the latest entry:

11 November 1877
Bethlem Royal Hospital Bedlam
London, England

Subject 41 expired at approximately 10:22 p.m., possibly due to cardiac arrest once again. I wait for my assistant Hensley to deliver and release the corpse to the hospital morgue. My only concern is that there may perhaps be further inquiry into the claw-like contusions upon the deceased's forearms and along his facial cheeks. I still cannot fathom how the subject, who was restrained, managed to damage himself in such a way. Both Hensley and I agree that the peculiar wounds appeared to spontaneously appear across the patient’s flesh of their own accord.

Having witnessed this entire incident, I must admit that further precautions are still a necessity as I continue to push on toward a resolution to this condition. The screams of the patient still reverberate within my ears at those haunting terrors, which only existed in his tormented mind. My first assertion is that the patient’s experience became so vivid, he was somehow able to enact the subjective manifestations of his consciousness into literal lacerations upon his extremities. Perhaps Hensley and I are the first to witness the true potential of the human mind to inflict its falsely perceived stimuli upon the body during a controlled experiment. Mind over the material world indeed! This may warrant further exploration in the future after I have completed my current work toward a cure for dementia praecox.

When Hensley returns, he will prepare Subject 42 for her time in the chair. I will administer the new cocktail of ingredients according to the schedule after readjusting the chloroform and nitrous oxide levels for proper sedation during the procedure. Even though she’s much smaller than Subject 41, we still need to gauge the appropriate levels of anesthesia so Subject 42 will remain conscious yet controllable and programmable during the procedure.

As I understand it, Subject 42 has a peculiarly heightened state of hysteria, so perhaps this will allow us to mark any substantial improvements in her mental realignment using the electric resonating device with profound measure. It was difficult to identify the response from Subject 41 due to his condition’s tepid state and mannerisms.

Regardless of tonight’s setbacks, I have the utmost certainty that I can mitigate the issues Subject 41 experienced tonight. It is too soon for me to surrender now and too dangerous for me to stop. Questions are being asked already and if I do not have an answer to Annabelle’s condition soon, I may not be able to cure her ailment before they forcibly return me to New York if they discover what I have been doing. Certainly, they would shower me with accolades upon my substantial progress, but the board will need to see results and I need to save Annabelle if I am to marry her. She would definitively accept my proposal of marriage with a clear mind, for who else could liberate her from Dr. Kraepelin’s diagnosis other than the youngest fellow to be accepted by Bethlem Royal Hospital? At the age of thirty-seven, I will become renowned for such an achievement and therefore, Annabelle would accept me unconditionally.

E. L., PhD

Edgar rested his quill in the inkwell and remained still as he pondered what outcomes awaited him in the final experiment of the evening. A rapping at the heavy oak study door rescued him from his reverie.

“Yes, what is it?” he asked.

“Dr. Livingston, Subject 42 is now prepped for the resonance procedure,” Hensley responded. “Should I start charging the apparatus?”

“Indeed, Hensley. I shall be there momentarily.”

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