The Cornerstone:

Before I can (attempt to) define something like “The New Literature” I think we need to examine some of the basic tenants of storytelling.

Long ago, [subject] lived in a [context] with her mother and father. [subject] occupied the highest room in the entire [context], and therein practised her [distinguishing characteristic].

The skeleton of a story is easy enough to build, and significant details give flesh to that frame. Language arts can be applied to give cadence and poetry to the story, and through crafty alignment of these elements, the reader’s interest is snatched, and they start on their path through the story.

[subject] had become very good at [distinguishing characteristic] and villagers travelled for days and weeks to listen to her play.

Now, the “story” (such as it is) is not actually very interesting, just yet. As it stands, little [subject] will continue on being awesome, and frankly nothing more needs to be said about her, or her family. The End. You could have figured that out on your own without my help, and thus, I have failed to do my job as a wordsmith.

But.

If I can give you (the reader) even a moment of doubt, then your attention is mine for at least a little longer.

A conflict appears,

Now, it was common knowledge that [subject]’s Mother (the Queen) was a jealous person. But one year, the Queen went so far as to conspire a plot to steal her daughter’s [distinguishing characteristic], and use it for herself.

Ah-ha! As trouble rears its ugly head, a gnawing need sensation is awoken in the reader, and until this conflict is resolved (one way, or the other) they remain interested in our character’s plight:

But [subject] was just as crafty as her villainous Mother, and on the night of the [climax], the Queen entered the [context]’s highest chamber - but [subject] was already there, waiting for her.
“I see you have come to steal my [distinguishing characteristic]” [subject] remarked, candidly.
“I have,” said the Queen, “so that I will be more beloved than you.”
“Then go ahead and try!” [subject] suddenly performed [significant action!] and the Queen fell many storeys, out of the [context]’s highest window.

The apex of action, followed by (here, literally) a falling action, might seem to be the most logical story-end, but there is traditionally a denouement, or re-framing of the story to provide catharsis and resolution.

The next morning, [subject] told her father (the King) what happened, and the King praised [subject] for her [significant action!]; saying,
“It was something I could never do.” The [context] was refitted, to be not so dangerously tall, and [subject] continued to practise her [distinguishing characteristic] until nothing in the world could compete with her melody and grace. [The End.]

There. The story is done, and we as readers have been edified (hopefully somehow) by its existence. Sometimes there is a moral or lesson at the conclusion, sometimes there’s just a feeling.

But most usually, a story is a recount. It is a sequence of events that once upon a time happened, and has now been re-presented for the reader’s contemporary edification.

This will be significant later, but that’s enough to start with.

Burning Bridges

Burning Bridges

Babble

Babble

The Point:

In the main, the overarching function of this blog-o-space is to define a new kind of literature.

That’s kind of a bold claim, isn’t it? I guess we’ll see what ends we come to.

As readers, we find ourselves in the thick of a new age in entertainment. Hundreds of books are digitally bound within a single Nook or Kindle, and eBook sales are ever on the rise. Video-games are praised as a valid art form, and offer not only elaborate stories & backgrounds, but also thriving communities of analysts and puzzle-solvers. Media distribution is more omnipresent than ever before, and the rapid-fire rate of accessibility can be almost nauseating in its abundance. For the first time ever, the sheer magnitude of collated human experience is available via a few simple keystrokes, and the need to physically maintain a collection of VHS tapes, vinyls, or cookbooks is quickly becoming a thing of the past - or at least the 80s.

This incredible wealth of information does have its costs, however. Borders’ Books is tragically undergoing liquidation, some used book sellers have had to close-up shop for good, magazines are 95% advertisements, and newspapers are trying to reconfigure themselves to compete with services like Twitter, or the social networks. (Here's a fascinating article from The Economist.) While popular, web-comics can be very difficult to monetize, and blogs (like this one) just hemorrhage unsolicited opinions, polluting this vat of raw information with slander and libel. For all the bright and glorious advantages of the Internet, there are just as many dank underbellies; swollen toxic teats, tempting the lost or naive wayfarer on the World Wide Web.

This blog is not about those woes.

This blog is about stories, and new ways to tell them.

By Way of Introduction:

Dear Sir or Madame,

I hope this message reaches you post-haste - we have neither the luxury of time, or the benefit of experience to waffle on for long. I have contacted you, regarding a matter of significant importance that requires your undivided attention. Were this anything else but the case, I would not have dared to disturb you, but as things stand, you must be made aware:

Reality is not as it appears.

Simply put, if perhaps not as simply understood, the fabric of your day-to-day is not as familiar as you’d like to believe. There are people trying to find you. Organizations out to get you. Agents who are willing to help you, if you can but only find a way to reach them.

As part of a national safety program, it is my duty to diligently record and report on all such eventualities, be they realized or not, and to provide some degree of academic analysis in each case.

I pray that these messages will reach you in time. Or that the crises detailed herein do not upset your alternative.

I remain, your humble and obedient servant,
~M.G.R.
Senior Underclerk, Riftwood Institute