Post by rvm45 on Jan 17, 2012 17:21:19 GMT -6
Many PAW and other Survival Stories succeed because they involve characters doing what the readers would very much like to do himself.
Did you ever see the movie "Strange Days"?
They had an electronic beanie that you wore under a sock-hat, or wig--and it recorded your total experience. When someone else put the beanie on and replayed it--just as if they were you.
The little CD Disks would only record about a half hour's worth without reloading though.
Some people liked to get adrenaline thrills that they were too fearful or cautious to pursue themselves--rob a liquor store, drive in a road-race, base jump, etc.
Some folks liked to get tapes where the recorder actually died--spooky sick Spitz that the other trippers disdained.....
Of course there was a lot of Sex stuff. One could experience things virtually, that would be biologically impossible in real life.
These tapes and players were illegal. the hero was a dude who run around buying experiences, and then selling them. He was thought of like Drug Dealers are nowadays.
But he had one customer who didn't want sex, or cheap thrills, or any of that. He collected CDs of people jogging. He was very pleased with one he'd just bought, where the dude was running through the surf barefoot.
He had lost his legs, and he was in a wheel chair.
See, walking or running was something he'd loved, and couldn't do anymore.
I had a very good job in the late seventies and early eighties. I worked for the Railroad--and then I got fired--stupid, stupid stupid!
The only truly good job that I ever had.
I was unemployed for over two years. Railroad unemployment lasted a good long while.
My Idiot Union Steward told my Father that getting my job back was a done deal--but that it would take a long time.
I had specifically asked that peckerwood not to discuss my case with my parents.
My Father got angry every time I mentioned looking for a job.
He felt that somehow, having another job would have compromised my case to get the old one back--though this is patently ridiculous.
Well back then, going into strange places, and greeting strange people was very stressful for me.
He never fully convinced me not to look for work, but it sure took most of the wind out of my sails, getting scolded for looking for work,instead of pep-talked.
I also had a Crack-Brained idea that I wanted to go into the US Army, and be a Green Beret--but only after I'd exhausted every other alternative.....
So with very little to occupy my broke bass for almost three years, I ran. I got into better running shape than I'd ever been.
Right before I went into the US Army, I weighed 218. I ran twelve miles every day, wearing a Twenty-pound weight belt, and then Hiked another 12 miles.
I was also heavy into Survivalism. I scrounged a lot of wild food on my hikes: Poke, Sour Doc, Dandelion, Golden Rod, Black Cherry, Sassafrass.....
And a few Apples and Peaches from the Orchard, when no one was around.
I had a carry permit back then. I was always armed.
What's more, I realized that if things went to hell in a hand basket, that the Survivors would likely be the ones who could wonder tirelessly and efficiently, while searching for food high and low.
Going intoThe Us Army turned out to be the worst mistake that I ever made.
The US Army sent me into an immediate Vapor-Lock of the Brain.
I'd always fought a bit of the battle against the bulge.....
I went from a very laid-back life, where all I had to do in a days time, was run 12 miles, walk another 12 miles, go through an hour or two of my own calisthenics,dry-fire my Pistols.....
Fast (Y'know, where you go without Food...) when the mood struck me.....and hang around the Gun Store.....
And carefully scrutinize every bite of food that I ate.
Yeah Dudes, I gained 50 pounds in Basic Training, and lost a lot of endurance and muscle tone.
That was one of the myriad reasons that I kept asking for a discharge. I needed to get home, and take the time to service my body, before three years of hard work went down the drain.
I passed the Airborne Physical at 6 foot, 258 Pounds.
When I finally got a Discharge after almost eleven months, I weighed 285 pounds--about thirty pounds heavier than I'd ever been before.....
And I couldn't shuffle/waddle a quarter mile.
I haven't been anything close to fit since then.
I'm weighing about 440 pounds. I'm Diabetic, depressed, have apnea, and neuropathy in my feet. I got heart failure, extra high blood pressure, limited attention span, and I need to be on oxygen.
I have attacks of gout.
I draw disability.
And you know, when I start a story, the only part that I really care about--the wish fufillment part, the part of my stories--and other's stories.....
The parts that I like to read again and again.....The whole reason for the thing.....
The Dude straps on two or three Pistols, grabbs a Fifty-Pound Bug-Out Pack and a Possibles Bag, Rifle, Bowie and maybe Katana.....
and he like heads for the hills.
He may get hungry. He may get huge blisters on his feet, and boils where his thighs rub together.
His clothes may be patched and ragged.
He may spend most of his time being very hungry, too hot, too cold, feverish and in pain.....
But he's armed, and he can bend over to tie his shoes, and walk 25 or 30 miles a day when he chooses to.
Man, like that legless dude in the wheel chair, thats what I crave to experience again.
I'm atypical.....
But figure out what your readers really want to experience vicariously, and feed it to them.....
And you'll be very popular as a Writer.
.....RVM45
Did you ever see the movie "Strange Days"?
They had an electronic beanie that you wore under a sock-hat, or wig--and it recorded your total experience. When someone else put the beanie on and replayed it--just as if they were you.
The little CD Disks would only record about a half hour's worth without reloading though.
Some people liked to get adrenaline thrills that they were too fearful or cautious to pursue themselves--rob a liquor store, drive in a road-race, base jump, etc.
Some folks liked to get tapes where the recorder actually died--spooky sick Spitz that the other trippers disdained.....
Of course there was a lot of Sex stuff. One could experience things virtually, that would be biologically impossible in real life.
These tapes and players were illegal. the hero was a dude who run around buying experiences, and then selling them. He was thought of like Drug Dealers are nowadays.
But he had one customer who didn't want sex, or cheap thrills, or any of that. He collected CDs of people jogging. He was very pleased with one he'd just bought, where the dude was running through the surf barefoot.
He had lost his legs, and he was in a wheel chair.
See, walking or running was something he'd loved, and couldn't do anymore.
I had a very good job in the late seventies and early eighties. I worked for the Railroad--and then I got fired--stupid, stupid stupid!
The only truly good job that I ever had.
I was unemployed for over two years. Railroad unemployment lasted a good long while.
My Idiot Union Steward told my Father that getting my job back was a done deal--but that it would take a long time.
I had specifically asked that peckerwood not to discuss my case with my parents.
My Father got angry every time I mentioned looking for a job.
He felt that somehow, having another job would have compromised my case to get the old one back--though this is patently ridiculous.
Well back then, going into strange places, and greeting strange people was very stressful for me.
He never fully convinced me not to look for work, but it sure took most of the wind out of my sails, getting scolded for looking for work,instead of pep-talked.
I also had a Crack-Brained idea that I wanted to go into the US Army, and be a Green Beret--but only after I'd exhausted every other alternative.....
So with very little to occupy my broke bass for almost three years, I ran. I got into better running shape than I'd ever been.
Right before I went into the US Army, I weighed 218. I ran twelve miles every day, wearing a Twenty-pound weight belt, and then Hiked another 12 miles.
I was also heavy into Survivalism. I scrounged a lot of wild food on my hikes: Poke, Sour Doc, Dandelion, Golden Rod, Black Cherry, Sassafrass.....
And a few Apples and Peaches from the Orchard, when no one was around.
I had a carry permit back then. I was always armed.
What's more, I realized that if things went to hell in a hand basket, that the Survivors would likely be the ones who could wonder tirelessly and efficiently, while searching for food high and low.
Going intoThe Us Army turned out to be the worst mistake that I ever made.
The US Army sent me into an immediate Vapor-Lock of the Brain.
I'd always fought a bit of the battle against the bulge.....
I went from a very laid-back life, where all I had to do in a days time, was run 12 miles, walk another 12 miles, go through an hour or two of my own calisthenics,dry-fire my Pistols.....
Fast (Y'know, where you go without Food...) when the mood struck me.....and hang around the Gun Store.....
And carefully scrutinize every bite of food that I ate.
Yeah Dudes, I gained 50 pounds in Basic Training, and lost a lot of endurance and muscle tone.
That was one of the myriad reasons that I kept asking for a discharge. I needed to get home, and take the time to service my body, before three years of hard work went down the drain.
I passed the Airborne Physical at 6 foot, 258 Pounds.
When I finally got a Discharge after almost eleven months, I weighed 285 pounds--about thirty pounds heavier than I'd ever been before.....
And I couldn't shuffle/waddle a quarter mile.
I haven't been anything close to fit since then.
I'm weighing about 440 pounds. I'm Diabetic, depressed, have apnea, and neuropathy in my feet. I got heart failure, extra high blood pressure, limited attention span, and I need to be on oxygen.
I have attacks of gout.
I draw disability.
And you know, when I start a story, the only part that I really care about--the wish fufillment part, the part of my stories--and other's stories.....
The parts that I like to read again and again.....The whole reason for the thing.....
The Dude straps on two or three Pistols, grabbs a Fifty-Pound Bug-Out Pack and a Possibles Bag, Rifle, Bowie and maybe Katana.....
and he like heads for the hills.
He may get hungry. He may get huge blisters on his feet, and boils where his thighs rub together.
His clothes may be patched and ragged.
He may spend most of his time being very hungry, too hot, too cold, feverish and in pain.....
But he's armed, and he can bend over to tie his shoes, and walk 25 or 30 miles a day when he chooses to.
Man, like that legless dude in the wheel chair, thats what I crave to experience again.
I'm atypical.....
But figure out what your readers really want to experience vicariously, and feed it to them.....
And you'll be very popular as a Writer.
.....RVM45