Read on Twitter
So the old & #39;Mission: Impossible& #39; TV show used to do a thing where the opening them was set to a montage of all the dramatic points of the episode you were about to watch. Rapid cuts, some too fast for the eye to follow.
We know that you don& #39;t need to consciously see something
We know that you don& #39;t need to consciously see something
for you to & #39;see& #39; it, if you get my meaning. If you flick a hundred random photos and insert three snake photos in there people on average, get anxious at the point of the snake photos even when they can& #39;t tell you there were snakes.
(Bear with me, there& #39;s a point to all this)
(Bear with me, there& #39;s a point to all this)
As a kid, I remember the soundtrack to Jesus Christ, Superstar, particularly the overture. Having seen the movie I realised the overture had mini-versions of the entire musical. Which started a long love affair with musicals and overtures, but I won& #39;t bore you with that.
So.
So.
On to prologues in fiction.
I& #39;ve been following the tweet responses to @victorlavalle & #39;s statement on them with interest.
On the one hand, the idea that using prologues is inherently flawed, while on the other being able to concede that there are instances of prologues done well.
I& #39;ve been following the tweet responses to @victorlavalle & #39;s statement on them with interest.
On the one hand, the idea that using prologues is inherently flawed, while on the other being able to concede that there are instances of prologues done well.
I contend that the problem is not the prologue. The problem is the writing.
This illustrates the origin of many & #39;rules& #39; of writing.
See enough examples of something done wrong and the problem is thought to be the *something* rather than the *done wrong*.
This illustrates the origin of many & #39;rules& #39; of writing.
See enough examples of something done wrong and the problem is thought to be the *something* rather than the *done wrong*.
