Half an idea seeks other half

[Zander]

Suppose someone tried to Write an Age that would contain their ideal person?

(Note: I'm not asking would they succeed. I'm posing the question, for story purposes, of what would happen, to them, to the Age, if they tried. Note that they wouldn't see themselves as trying to create that ideal person--just find him or her. It isn't enough for a story on its own, but if anyone knows what might go with it, they are welcome to use it.)

[Owehn]

I like the thread title. The concept's interesting as well; it's like writing a novel with your idea of your soulmate, and then joining him/her there. I'm not sure whether doing so is within Cyan's idea of the scope of the Art, but I'm intrigued nonetheless.

[belford]

The Art, for all we use the word "Art", is a very logical and rational thing (in my conception). The tone of an Age can be lonely, rapturous, or forbidding -- but the process of Writing it is not.

So I don't think that the emotional complexities of your soul (personality), and how it interacts with another, could be expressed in Writing logic. Or rather: *you* couldn't express it in Writing logic, because you don't know yourself in such precise conscious detail.

[Zardoz]

Well, it's not quite what you specified, but what the hey, an old work of mine . . .


Reduco
to draw backwards, bring back, lead home

The sun behind her
the light shining through her hair
a corona around her head
a goddess afire
her laugh breaks the mirage
she turns and a smile shapes her lips
the touch
always the touch
all I remember
and now I seek to retain
to return to this Age
in the moment
in the moment before she falls
the ground breaking apart
the ground shaking apart
the moment that she falls
I cannot reach her
the smile leaves her lips
the moment that she falls away from me
away from my reach
I cannot reach her
in that moment.

And then she is gone.

I open the book, and take the pen. My ink is almost gone. I turn to the first page, and then the next. Here, I take note, and here again. The pounding at the door has stopped, the voices gone away. And here, also, and here. I dip my pen in the ink and carefully transform this character and then this one. I close my eyes. Not too much, I pray, I cannot lose her. The changes, they will give the ground another chance, they will push her forward in time. And here, this one here. I cannot delay any longer. I turn to the page and touch the panel.

The sun behind her
the light shining through her hair
a corona around her head
a goddess afire
her laugh breaks the mirage
she turns and a smile shapes her lips
the touch
always the touch
all I will ever remember
and now I seek yet again
to return to this Age
in the next moment
in the next moment when she does not fall
but the ground is breaking apart
the ground is shaking apart
the moment she falls
I still cannot reach her
the smile leaves her lips
the moment that she falls away from me
away from my reach
I cannot reach her
in that moment again.

And then she is gone.

I open the book, and take the pen. My ink is barely there. I turn to the first page, and then the next, and then the next. I turn another page, and then I take note, and turn again. The pounding at the door has returned, the voices tell me to stop. I dip my pen in the ink and carefully transform this character, but only this one. I cannot delay any longer. I turn to the page and touch the panel.

The sun behind her
the light shining through her hair
a corona around her head
a goddess afire
her laugh breaks the mirage
she turns and takes a step toward me
a smile shapes her lips
the touch
always the touch
all I can remember
and now I struggle to retain
to return to this Age
in this moment
in this moment when she will not fall
but the ground is now breaking apart
the ground is shaking apart
the moment comes and now she falls
I step but cannot reach her
the smile leaves her lips
the moment that she falls away from me
away from my reach
I cannot reach her
in this moment.

And then she is gone.

I open the book, and take the pen. My ink is a drop or two. I turn the pages, and the pounding grows louder, the door is shattering, the voices are coming. I dip my pen in the ink and the ink is gone. I brush this character and this one, and I turn to the page and touch the panel.

The sun is in the sky,
and the ground is not shaking.
I step forward,
and the ground does not break apart.
The sun is shining, the ground is solid,
there is no shaking apart.
I look to catch that smile, to find the touch,
always the touch, in this moment,
when the sun is shining
and the ground is not shaking,
is not breaking apart.
I have returned to this Age, to reach her,
to hear her laugh,
to catch that smile,
in my reach.

But she is not there.
She has never taken a step.
The sun has never shined through her hair.
I have returned to this Age, to reach her,
to hear her laugh, to catch that smile,
but there is no laugh, there is no smile,
there has never been a smile.
Never in my reach.
Never the touch.
All I remember, is all I have,
in this moment, in my reach.
In this moment.
In my reach.
All I have, is all I remember.

And now she is gone.

[Robert The Rebuilder]

Heartbreaking. And beautiful.

And welcome, Zardoz!

[Zander]

Yes, very nice indeed. Thank you for sharing that with us, Zardoz.

I should perhaps reiterate in response to Owehn and belford that I'm not talking about someone *succeeding* in doing this--I'm talking, as Zardoz is in a slightly different context, about someone *trying.* I think it's a natural human impulse, especially among adolescents. And while the Guilds, here or in D'ni, would ideally be set up to keep a tight rein on what Ages got Written, they're composed of humans as well, and some anomalies might slip through.

[Owehn]

Yes, I understand that you're talking about an attempt. I think the point belford and I made is that if the Art doesn't have the means to describe people, how would you even go about attempting? I can see four possible things happening within this idea:

1. The Art can't describe people. Dead end.
2. The Art can describe people, but the Writer errs and the result is unexpected.
3. The Art can describe people, and the Writer finds exactly who he's looking for but the feeling isn't reciprocated.
4. The Art can describe people, and the Writer finds exactly who he's looking for and they eventually live happily ever after.

[Zander]

Mm. Those are the simplistic outcomes--that's why this is half an idea.

I know it's taken as a given that the Art can't describe people (like so many other things which are taken as givens), but since they do turn up in Written Ages, and form a part of their Ages' biospheres, I think they must be implicit in the text--certain conditions when specified result in (a link to) an Age which has people. This was the springboard for my imagining of the far more esoteric part of the Art: the use and control of Implication. Only the highest masters would have been admitted to that mystery, and no-one in D'ni has ever come close to the level of skill possessed by at least one of the Ronay. If a novice, desperate to find a soulmate, happened upon some learned volume on the subject, I can see him (or her) giving it a try.

[Zardoz]

Here's a simpler route that follows my creative angle above, but doesn't really satisfy your "use and control of Implication." It is utterly uninformed by all the discussions that have taken place about relations between the Guilds of Writers and Maintainers, IC rules for Writing, etc. It is a concept, not yet an idea, so lunch is premature. (OOC comments are in italics.)

A new Age is passed on to the Guild of Maintainers. This one has an unusual feature, however, one that causes a vigorous debate to erupt among the Maintainers. (Debate can occur in the Guild of Maintainers forum.) Unlike other Ages, this one has a full fledged civilization, Middle-Ageish by Earth standards. (I am presuming that relatively few if any new Ages will have NPC people wandering around, and so reports of such a civilization, not just evidence of a past civilization, would be unusual.) The debate is over how to engage this civilization. Should contact immediately be opened? Or should a Prime Directive a la Star Trek be adopted? (A good question to ask is why such a policy is not already in place. Might be wise to address this issue now, as a setup for stories like this one.) An interim decision is made to study the Age by "blending in" (again a la Star trek - luckily, the people are humanoid), and so a team of Maintainers is sent to investigate the Age's stability, etc.

A member of the team is a Maintainer who also aspires to be a Writer. This member has been rejected by the Guild of Writers, however, because he has not shown the ethical character demanded by the Guild of Writers. (I'll be playing with some IC Rules of Writing here that harken back to Gehn's transgressions.) This member quickly falls in love with one of the inhabitants of this Age, but the romance is tragically cut short when the inhabitant dies in an accident. (Key part of the story: The accident should be related to some aspect of the Age that is within the control of the Writer. In my story above, for example, if you read between the lines, the woman is killed in an earthquake, and the Writer attempts to modify the Age in such a way as to remove the possibility of earthquakes without disturbing the forces that produced the woman herself.) The Maintainer is mad with grief, and steals the Age's Descriptive Book and attempts to modify it in such a way that the accident is prevented. Both of the Guilds react to the theft with alarm and much action ensues. Finally, the Writer succeeds in modifying the world but in the process removes the civilization's people. (Tricky part - all of this is fun for forum readers but the true fun is eventually opening the world and finding the remnants of a civilization. But if modifying the Descriptive Book wipes out the people, it would also wipe out all traces of the civilization. Looks like we might need some artistic license . . . ) The Guild of Maintainers are shocked at the betrayal from within, but eventually open the Age.

Now, part of the fun of this scenario is to produce an Age that has been "modified" by altering the Descriptive Book. Just about any Age could support this storyline, and so you could produce the Age you want to, but then add just a few features that are "off" - that come from the Maintainer's modifications of the Descriptive Book and so support the pre-storyline of the tragic love affair.

[BladeLakem]

I would put it under 'theoretically possible'. Writing describes environments and even organisms to some respect. If you could exactly describe a person, I'd assume you could link to a place with that person.

However, the detail required would be mind-bogglingly staggering to say the least. You'd have to describe every detail of that person - specifiy the mechanics of biology specifically to get the exact type of organism and instance of that species that you want, the mechanics of neurology and minute details to have them have the memories and personality that you want, etc. You'd have to be able to Write every facet of their being. Things like complex global ecosystems are trivial by comparison.