Results of Ruminations

The debate over who's the "better" writer among the anchors of the Western canon tend to devolve into arbitrary designations: Homer was first, therefore...; or, Milton was so allusive, therefore...; or, Shakespeare gave us a plethora of new words , therefore.... All of these claims are fine, but they're like having an academic debate whilst in line at Cold Stone to determine which gourmet ice cream is actually superior.* Regardless of who is the Best, Shakespeare is in the running. But as a writer, what does Shakespeare provide that fellow writers can learn from? I've been asking myself this question for a long time, and though I'm sure there are additional reasons, I've figured out at least three: language as a tool, interior depth, and variation in consistency. I'll approach the first here. Language as a Tool One of the many paradoxes about Shakespeare is that he's simultaneously adored and feared for his robust language. It's not just ...

I love a well-told tale. One of the reason that I still unabashedly recommend Patrick Rothfuss  and his two novels to people is because Rothfuss knows how to tell a good story. Not only that, but he loves  to tell stories. Almost every question he answers in interviews comes in the form of a story. He's supped full of the bardic tradition and it exudes from him like an odoriferous wave of narrative--I would imagine. I haven't met him in person, so I can't say for certain. As an addendum, I would like to point out that the particulars of an odoriferous wave of narrative  and what that would smell like are beyond my experience, though I imagine it would entail nutmeg somehow. That just seems how it ought to be. Anyway, this essay isn't about Rothfuss. It's about how he got so good at stories: It was by watching Joss Whedon. You can learn all about Rothfuss' conversion story , but what he doesn't really go into detail with that post is why  Whedon is so gorra...