This complex personality in Michael is strongly apparent during the Baptism scene in the Church. While he is behaving as a loving family man, a montage of scenes shows people being murdered. The irony is he's responsible for the murders occurring and being carried out against the backdrop of the church setting. This is character development at its best. We soon understand how and why he is such a contradiction.
Standing on the summit of the tower that crowned his church, wings upspread, sword lifted, the devil crawling beneath, and the cock, symbol of eternal vigilance, perched on his mailed foot, Saint Michael held a place of his own in heaven and on earth which seems, in the eleventh century, to leave hardly room for the Virgin of the Crypt at Chartres, still less for the Beau Christ of the thirteenth century at Amiens. Henry Adams
So far we've talked about writing the first two scenes to develop conflict and imply change. Notice, however, that in everything I've said so far is an implicit assumption Different characters will have different kinds ofconflicts and changes. The Jane who reacts to the fight with her husband by going to church to pray is not the same Jane who reacts by pouring three fingers of Scotch. Another Jane, in fact, never would have had the fight in the first
Once a week, go someplace in your town that you've never been. Go to a church or synagogue that you don't belong to, in a religion other than yours. stop by that little one-man museum curated by the old guy at the end of the street. Pick up a book on growing roses just because you've always thought it would be cool to try, and learn all about organic fertilizers and the uses of ladybugs and praying mantises. Take a class in stained glass work or CPR or bookkeeping. Learn to ice skate or tango. Ask the beautician and your accountant and the old woman sitting next to you at the bus stop to tell you about their work.
We began the chapter on nature poetry by noting that, at least in part, poems set in the real world are about nature. What about poems set somewhere else in heaven, on Mars, in the mind What to call these For centuries, critics have labeled such categories of verse religious, metaphysical and sublime. The religious poem usually was devotional the metaphysical, metaphoric and the sublime, intellectual. More recently, however, religious verse has become associated with churches or movements (e.g., Catholicism or Fundamentalism) the metaphysical, with the supernatural and the sublime, with psychology. Clearly, another nomenclature is needed hence, the term extranatural (or beyond the natural world).
More and more of my time and energy is now being absorbed by community activities. After getting my master's in public administration, I would like to work in the area of economic development in the Third World, particularly Latin America. The setting might be a private (possibly church-based) development agency, the UN, the OAS, one of the multilateral development banks, or a government agency. What I need from graduate school is the academic foundation for such a career. What I offer in return is a perspective that comes from significant involvement in policy issues at the grass roots level, where they originate and ultimately must be resolved.
The Catholic believed in the authority of the Church the Reformer, in the authority of reason. Where the Church had spoken, the Catholic obeyed. His duty was to accept without question the laws which councils had decreed, which popes and bishops administered, and so far as in him lay to enforce in others the same submission to an outward rule which he regarded as divine. All shades of Protestants on the other hand agreed that authority might err that Christ had left no visible representative, whom individually they were bound to obey that religion was the operation of the Spirit on the mind and conscience that the Bible was God's word, which each Christian was to read, and which with God's help and his natural intelligence he could not fail to understand. The Catholic left his Bible to the learned. The Protestant translated the Bible, and brought it to the door of every Christian family. The Catholic prayed in Latin, and whether he understood his words or repeated them as a form the...
As an extreme example here, let's say you want your character to preach a sermon some Sunday in a Southern Baptist church, citing the life of Christ as the perfect type for all to emulate. Only a slow thinker would fail to put something in the story earlier to show how the character was either brought up in a Christian home, or went through a religious conversion to Christianity. Thus the general background must be given, or else the character's actions may seem to come from no logical origin. Following the same example a step further, remember that the general background may not be enough. Your readers will also want to know the more recent event or events that have given your character the motivation to do what she is doing right now. Thus, in the example cited, you might have the Christian woman's minister husband fall suddenly ill, which prompts her, in desperation, to fill in for him after the congregation has already assembled. Or you might set things up so the sermon is to be...
You're worldbuilding when you sketch out a floorplan of the house that your character lives in so that you don't accidentally have her bedroom on the first floor in chapter one and on the second in chapter three. You're worldbuilding when you draw out a little map of the town in which your characters live and name the streets and decide that the corner drugstore is on the corner of Maple and Vine. You are worldbuilding when you decide that the town has two churches, one Presbyterian and one Methodist, and that the Methodists think (as a whole) that the Presbyterians are a bunch of godless heathens and the Presbyterians think the Methodists are a bunch of fanatics.
I wasn't planning on going anywhere - Which sounded like bullshit when she said it, and she knew it. She was wearing a navy dress with a fitted waist and a low neckline, which had been a gift from Kevin. Heels. Hose. Make-up. The last time Brian had seen her in make-up when they weren't on their way to church or a restaurant had been right after the second baby was born. Eight years ago Yeah. About that.
Litany, because of its vague resemblance to church litany, simply lists single words or short phrases that accumulate in the reader's mind to create and leave the impression of a person, place, or thing. The beauty of this method of compression is that you can accomplish it while simultaneously adding some style. And it may even improve the reader's comprehension and retention.
In the newsroom of the Miami Herald, there is some disagreement about which of Edna Buchanan's first paragraphs stands as the classic Edna lead. I line up with the fried-chicken faction. The fried-chicken story was about a rowdy ex-con named Gary Robinson, who late one Sunday night lurched drunkenly into a Church's outlet, shoved his way to the front of the line, and ordered a three-piece box of fried chicken. Persuaded to wait his turn, he reached the counter again five or ten minutes later, only to be told that Church's had run out of fried chicken. The young woman at the counter suggested that he might like chicken nuggets instead. Robinson responded to the suggestion by slugging her in the head. That set of a chain of events that ended with Robinson's being shot dead by a security guard. Edna Buchanan covered the murder for the Herald there are policemen in Miami who say that it wouldn't be a murder without her. Her story began with what the fried-chicken faction still regards as...
Jeffrey was on his way to church when he spotted the house where the little gray dog once lived. The dog he had killed one night in a rage. But that was then, and this was now. Now he kept his rages inside him, locked securely away where, he told himself, they would never get out again.
Delia and Philomena were large women, great-breasted and fierce. When they sailed along the sidewalks of Brooklyn lesser creatures stepped aside, respect was shown. The sisters knew what was right and they knew what was wrong and any doubts could be resolved by the One, Holy, Roman, Catholic, and Apostolic Church. They knew that Angela, unmarried, had no right to be in an interesting condition and they would take steps.
And every banana you have ever tasted - if you get all your bananas from the grocery store - has been as much a lie as those pathetic excuses for apples you know so well. There are as many kinds of real bananas as there are real apples. Tiny bananas the size of your fingers that are so sweet and rich they make an ambrosial desert all by themselves, bananas long as your forearm that are bitter unless fried in strips and eaten hot and crunchy, bananas with reddish skins, bananas with firm flesh, bananas with bite. Coming soon to a grocery store near you Not likely. You can buy all these wonderful bananas in the open-air markets in Central America by bargaining with the old, dark-eyed woman who sits on the cobblestones next to the white-plastered, bullet-riddled ruins of the old Catholic church. They arrived in town that morning on the back of her burro, and next Saturday she will bring more. You will not see these bananas in Nebraska or Arkansas or New York because the good bananas,...
I could not find any sixpenny entrance and, fearing that the bazaar would be closed, I passed in quickly through a turnstile, handing a shilling to a weary-look-ing man. I found myself in a big hall girdled at half its height by a gallery. Nearly all the stalls were closed and the greater part of the hall was in darkness. I recognised a silence like that which pervades a church after a service. I walked into the centre of the bazaar timidly. A few people were gathered about the stalls which were still open. Before a curtain, over which the words Cafe Chantant were written in coloured lamps, two men were counting money on a salver. I listened to the fall of the coins.