Writing Exercise part 2

The silhouette of a man appeared suddenly in the clearing smoke. Against the ever-rising flames of the overturned tanker, the image struck a supernatural fear into the hearts of the attacking natives. Then suddenly the figure was gone, quickly forgotten as simply another event in the midst of a bloody battle. But the silhouette did not forget. It was medical officer John Watson who had emerged with a purpose from the armory; he couldn't bring his friend back to life, but he was sure he could avenge it. After collecting his bearings, Watson made his way around the lines of natives. As he snuck his way past patrols and groups of angry men, he wondered how they could have gotten this way. He had always been told that he was there to help and that the native people welcomed British aid. Obviously he had been lied to, a mistake he will not allow to be repeated. Noticing an opening, Watson tightened his belt, grabbed his revolver, and made a silent dash for a nearby tree line.

A brilliant ligh suddenly engulfed the revenge-bent officer. He heard the cries of nearby enmities, calling for aid. This was his chance, his opportunity to make a difference. If he could manage to take out the light operator and swing it around, he could expose the attacks of the invading natives. Watson reached for his revolver, but before he could grasp it, a sudden pain shot across his skull. 

John Watson awoke in a crowded field hospital next to a harried looking nurse who noticed his eyes open and said, "Ohngood you're up, now someone else can finally use this bed."

"How long was I out?" He questioned.

"Long enough to be an inconvenience," spat the rude nurse, "now get up, I wasn't having a laugh, other people need this bed." 

John looked back at the nurse with a blank stare. "Three days," said a voice from behind, "you've been out for three days."

John spun around in his bed suddenly. Could it be true? Could he really have been out for three days? "Did we win?" He asked the battle scarred soldier who had spoken before, "was it worth the cost?"

"We did win," replied the soldier, "at least as well as anyone can win in war. But the cost was great, the camp was in flames for two days straight, and the brigadier general was shot sometime through the second night. The natives seem to have given up. The only thing anyone's doing now is clean up; well that and patching up the wounded."

"I can help with that," exclaimed John, "I'm a doctor."

"I don't think you'll be doing much of anything mate," the soldier said, motioning towards John's legs.

"What are you on about--" started John as he quickly pulled the sheet off and exposed his legs. The left leg appeared untouched, but the right was wrapped tightly in blood stained rags. "My leg! What's heppened to my leg?"

To be continued

Writing Exercise

A sudden flash of light lit up the small barracks in Southern Africa. Medical Officer John Watson sat up in his cot; reaching for his revolver. An eerie silence fell over the hot, African night, but it didn't last long. A siren suddenly erupted, bringing Watson completely to his feet. He scrambled to find his boots in the darkness, cursing the cheap candle issued to him. A sharp, piercing "psst!" broke him away from these thoughts.

"Atkins," Watson whispered in reply, "is that you?"

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Was the only thing Atkins seemed to be able to mumble as he silently slipped into the tent, filling its interior with his enormous girth.

"Get a hold of yourself man," Watson exclaimed, slapping Atkins across the face, "that's the call to arms ringing so it doesn't matter what's happening; we have our orders."

Atkins slowly turned back to Watson and said with a surprising glimmer of delight in his eyes, "the armory then?"

As the two soldiers made their way across the chaotic camp, Watson couldn't help but reminisce about his childhood. He had always heard that a man's entire life flashes before his eyes when he was about to die, but this was different, maybe he wasn't going to die. Instead of focusing on such morbidity, the eye of Watson's mind turned to the man trying to keep up with him. Harry Atkins had been John Watson's friend since school. They had met in the schoolyard after a large, brute of a child had pushed John into a pile of mud. Harry walked calmly over to the large child, tapped him on the shoulder, and introduced his fist to the boy's face. After this, young Harry and John were inseparable. When they had graduated their primary schooling and John left to begin his medical training and enlist, Harry smuggled himself in the fledgling doctor's coach, only making himself known when his empty stomach betrayed him. And so it was that the two friends found themselves in this strange predicament, thousands of miles from home.

A loud crack snapped Watson back to reality. They had reached the armory and were just about to enter when a young private dropped dead mid-stride. Watson hoped Atkins hadn't seen it, but he knew it was a pointless dream. Harry Atkins had never possessed the constitution for blood, further expanding the mystery that was his enrollment in the royal military.

As John entered the small, hut that comprised their camp's armory, he was hit with a sudden sense of futility. "Why are we even doing this Harry?"

"Well I'm here because you wanted to be a glory or something"

"I wanted to help people," John said as he cast his eyes back towards the dead private, "not help kill people."

"Well my dear friend, we can't choose our lot in life. We get what we're given and it seems we've been given mosquitoes and sand."

"But surely we aren't destined for only this."

"Maybe you are, me I'm not so sure about---" but that was all he said. That was all he would ever say. John Watson stared in horror as his childhood friend slowly sank to the ground, a red stain expanding on his dirt-covered uniform. 

"Harry!" shouted the doctor, suddenly very much alone. 

To be continued

A Summary of Sorts

More than slightly ambiguous title aside, this first section will, as always be a summary. This time, a summary of Arthur Conan Doyle's, The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle. The curtain opens on a chorus line of hopefuls--no wait, wrong thing sorry. The story begins with Holmes already in the midst of a case, sort of. An aqua thence of his, a concierge at a local hotel, witness several ruffians grouping around a man on his way home several nights earlier. As the concierge approached to see what was going on, both the ruffians (a word seriously underused in casual conversation) and the seemingly innocent man fled; leaving only a hat and an uncooked goose behind. These are what the good-willed concierge brought to Mr. Sherlock Holmes, in an attempt to determine the rightful owner. Now that you understand the basic premise- which I assume, based on the fact that you can obviously read seeing as you got this far- I will skip ahead to the conclusion: the "witness" was actually the thief and he had simply put the diamond in the wrong goose's throat. There, all clear now right? Oh, what's that? You actually know less now than you did before? Well maybe you should just read the stories instead of relying on my summaries. Sorry, that was uncalled for. I have no way of knowing if you did or didn't read the story ahead of time;it's wrong of me to assume. That being said, if you haven't already read the story, go and read it. It's not half bad...it is however, also not half good.  Compliment-ception!!!

Side-note: I recently discovered how to use the italics feature on the app I use to do these blog posts, so that's pretty great.

Now comes the promised ambiguous portion of the post. The part where I ramble on and on, somehow tying it into the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's writings in the end. Or is it? Maybe I'll surprise you today reader. Maybe I prepared a special message ahead of time for this very moment. I didn't, I'm just saying I could have. I guess that just shows you how much I care: this much. I realize you can't see my hand gestures as I type this, but rest assured that my hands are so far apart right now; representing the seemingly endless capacity of my cares.

Hey remember a few minutes ago when you read that that last part was the promised ambinguous section of the post? Well I lied, it's this part. Haha I got you good. Just kidding it wasn't even supposed to be funny, it just worked out that way. Happy-coincidences aside, I will now discuss the importance of modern re-imaginings of older things, like Sherlock Holmes, in relation to their lasting popularity. That was a mouthful wasn't it; Hey-oh! If that didn't get a chuckle out of you in don't know what will. Just kidding I do, but (spoilers) I'm saving that for the ending. Ok, so back to the meat of the post: how much of a role does the re-introduction of a classic through a more modern medium, such as TV, play in that classics longevity? I believe it is nessesary to present classics in a new light to the new generations. Not because the new version is better, but because without it, the new fans would likely have never discovered it. If a person who watches a lot of TV but doesn't read sees the BBC's Sherlock, they might just love it so much that they go out and buy a copy of The Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes. These re-.imaginings shouldn't be viewed as replacements, simply the gateway drug to a vast and wonderful world of literature.

Ok, now that that's over with, the promised chuckle-inducing ending. What do you call a elephant mixed with a rhino: 'el-if-i-no. I mean seriously how can you not laugh at that? 

Additionally, I used an unprecedented amount of dashes on this post, I do not know why-it just happened that way I guess. See what I did there? 

Summary and a Not so Original Re-Casting

I'm not dead, joy of joys. But enough sentiment. When last I posted, I promised to finish my summary of the Hound of the Baskevilles; allows-y! The last thing I remember telling you is that Sir Henry Baskeville had lost his shoes and that Watson was to accompany him as he returned home. After arriving at Baskerville manor and hearing the cries of a woman through the night, Watson began his questioning of the locals: Sherlock Holmes' primary suspect, the aged groundskeeper of Baskerville hall, a local wildlife fanatic, and his wife, to name a few. While there, Doctor Watson experienced many strange occurences, the disembodied howling of a dog and the silhouette of a mysterious man being the most noteworthy. I will now attempt to sum up in true Sherlock fashion in an effort to save both your time and the stamina of my fingers. The mystery man was none other than Sherlock Holmes himself, and the howling dog belonged to the aforementioned wildlife fanatic. It also just so happens that the owner of the dog was also the one responsible for the murder of Sir Henry Baskerville's predessor. That about does it for the summary portion of today's post; apologies if the feel of it was off, I wasn't expecting to be blogging at all today and had neglected to preform the usual pre-blog ritual.

Oh hello again, still here are you? Well you might as well keep reading I suppose, seems rude to stop now. As the title of this post suggests, I will now re-cast the major roles in The Hound of the Baskervilles; spoilers, Benedict Cumberbatch is Sherlock Holmes - if it ain't broke, don't fix it right? The role of Doctor John Watson remains with its current actor, Martin Freeman. If you need to ask why, see my reason for choosing Benefit Cumberbuzzle. Now onto the less major characters, the role of Sir Henry Baskerville goes to Tom Hiddleston. Tom has showcased his talent as both Marvel's Loki, as well as numerous serious dramas so he would be perfectly suited for walking the line between Doyle's serious and comedic undertones. Finally, the role of the murderer, whose name escapes me and quite frankly doesn't matter right now. British actor John Simm. His role as The Master in Doctor Who perfectly prepared him for, "embodying a murderer" (sounds bad when you put it like that). Well that does it for me today, I'm off to eat lunch now. I'm leaving now, and I shan't be bac- puts on ring and disappears- I just realized you can still read what I write if I'm invisible. I'll just go now.

Summary, Dissection, and a Bit Extra

When I last posted, I had just begun reading The Hound of the Baskervilles. Since then I have read several more short stories: A Case of Identity, A Scandal in Bohemia, and The Adventure of the Red-headed League to name a few. Rather than spend twenty minutes summarizing all of these, I will focus on my continued reading of the full-length story, The Hound of the Baskervilles. Starting from where I left off, Sir Henry Baskerville has lost a boot. Several boots to be exact. It is unclear what role the missing boots will play in the future, but what is clear is that we can expect great things from the boots. After all, footwear in the past did great things. Terrible! Oh yes, but great. Additionally, Holmes volunteered Watson to accompany Baskerville back home, so that happened. Keep this page bookmarked because in another one to three weeks I may post an update.

Now on to the second part of the post. You know, the completely voluntary and in no way required part. Well as I was saying, this time I will be dissecting the, "emotional journey of a round character in my novel". I should clarify, this previous use of quotations in no way references someone's telling me what to write about, that's just how I, "talk". You wouldn't know because you've never spoken to me; you've only read my thoughts written out. Unless you have spoken to me. But even then can you really be sure? Perhaps you've just never noticed. Perhaps you've just never noticed a lot of things. Perhaps the people you thought you knew, you never knew at all; and the people you didn't know, never really existed. This has been Food For Thought, a new, third segment I am introducing effective immediately. It will continue to be included in these posts until a time I no longer think it necessary, or until I forget.

And now, you're regularly scheduled post:

Doctor John Watson has undergone quite a trek these last few stories. When he first met Holmes, the good doctor was an out-of-work vet, looking for a place to live. Now he is married with his own practice as well as the continued side-business of aiding his friend in solving crimes. But do these physical changes in circumstance equate to equally radical changes in emotion, or do they simply present the facade of change while allowing the person to remain emotionally stagnant? While it always depends on the character, in this instance I believe the first position to be more accurate. Doctor Watson has grown over the course of his time spent with Holmes. He has become more open, more observant, and more caring. And while these changes might have occurred without Holmes' intervention, they most certainly would not have had the same effect. 

Entry Five: The One That Comes After Four

To begin, a summary of recent reading. The Hound of the Baskervilles is the next story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle that I have chosen to read, and it's looking good so far. I'm hopeful for this one in particular since it is one of the few that have been adapted in the BBC's modern retelling, Sherlock. Quick editorial: watch Sherlock if you haven't already. seriously, stop reading right now, and go watch it! Alright, now that that's out of the way (for now), I'll get started with the summary. the story opens on Holmes and Watson discussing the owner of a walking stick they had discovered in their flat after arriving home. Holmes presses Watson to make several deductions of his own, but unfortunately for Watson's pride, they turn out to be incorrect. They soon uncover the identity of the stick's owner when the man returns to hire Holmes. Without getting to specific, the man is a doctor and one of his patients (an old man) has died. The patient believed that his family was cursed and the doctor has come to believe it was this very curse that was responsible for the old man's passing. Holmes is intrigued by the supernatural aspect of the case, and agrees to assist. The game--is on!

And now a word from my sponsors: "Contrast one round and one flat character."

Well you heard them readers, and since "they" are the ones that make this blog possible, I suppose I must comply. Here we go. When it comes to a round character, that is to say a character that is well-rounded or developed, look no further than the title character; mister Sherlock Holmes himself. Although Holmes displays qualities of a flat character to an unobservant eye, a keen reader will observe that he uses this flatness to distance himself from others and aid in his deductions. He would be the first to tell you that the moment you develop a personal attachment to something, you become compromised. Apart from this, we also glimpse Holmes' vulnerable side: through his addiction to opiates. Additionally, Holmes has developed a strong friendship with Watson, going against his own practices. Why does he do this? Because he's human. He may not like to remember it, but Sherlock Holmes is very much a human with emotions and feelings. And now, in accordance with the sponsors' wishes, I present to you a flat character: any of the "assisting" detectives. These so-called professionals are basically only good for calling in Sherlock Holmes for help. They have little to no back story and limited dialogue. And certainly no development to speak of, perfectly embodying the term "flat".
Sorry for all the colons, I don't know why I used so many: weird.
Do you see what I did there?

Finishing a Story, and Also Marxism

To pick up where I left off, Watson is at 221B Baker Street, anxiously awaiting news of the elusive ship, the Aurora.  He soon finds himself in the company of Athelney Jones; the detective officially assigned the case. They are both surprised to find themselves suddenly in the presence of the one and only Sherlock Holmes, who was in the guise of a sailor. Then Holmes claims that, through many deductions, observations, surmising, and maybe just a hint of educated guessing (though he himself would likely never admit it); he has solved this tedious trek for treasure. The mystery is revealed, the culprits, at least those still breathing, are apprehended, and Watson is engaged. Oh sorry, did I forget to talk about that? Well it seems the good doctor had become infatuated with the young Miss Mary Morsten, and she with him. Truly the classic, storybook ending: full of love, concise summaries of crimes decades in the making, and just a hint of murder. What more could you ask for?

And now, time for the totally not mandatory, response section of the post. Today’s topic is Marxism so, you know, it’s got to be a good one, right? Throughout The Sign of the Four, author Arthur Conan Doyle displays several instances of Marxist ideals. I’m not saying they’re intentional, but I’m also not saying they’re not.  A good example of this is when Holmes uses his network of street urchins to find the lost ship the Aurora. Here, Doyle displays the cooperation of the classes towards a common goal, Holmes, representing the middle class, and the urchins the lowest and poorest class. At the same time, there is a distinct separation of these classes. Holmes reminds them that he wishes to only speak with the leader, rather than have them all running around the flat. Another example is the relationship between Doctor Watson and Miss Morsten. Through their adventure, Watson finds himself falling for her, but is apprehensive about it since she will be of a higher social order if the treasure is found. In the end it works out, however, once again displaying class cooperation. And lastly, the representation of the upper class: throughout the story, the rich and elite are portrayed as weak, selfish people who only care about money. I’m not saying this is totally inaccurate, but the broad stance of the author towards the rich does have an air of Marxism to it. And so, since I still haven’t thought of a good way to wrap these up consistently, this is goodbye…for now.

Further Summaries and a Discussion of Setting

When I posted about my reading before, I was in the process of reading A Study in Scarlet; I have since finished it (I only had about twenty pages left at the time). The ending was good and left no loose ends, which I guess is all you can really ask of a mystery. Moving forward, I have begun reading The Sign of the Four and have found myself enjoying it much more than the first. I will admit that I am slightly biased towards the first story as a watcher of the BBC’s Sherlock, but I found myself pleasantly surprised at the originality of The Sign of the Four.  It begins with some time having past since A Study in Scarlet. John Watson and Sherlock Holmes still live together in 221B Baker Street and their characters begin developing almost immediately. We are introduced to Holmes’ addiction to opiates and Watson’s strong disapproval of his partner’s usage of these mind-altering methods of escape from the boredom of life. Without giving too much away, we are introduced to Sherlock’s newest client, Mary Morstan. After agreeing to help solve a series of recent, mysterious happenings, Holmes and Watson find themselves embroiled in a vicious hunt involving a secret society and at least two dead bodies. Their chase takes them to various locations, like a mansion in the English countryside as well as a six mile trek across that countryside. And that is about where I stopped reading. Oh, there is also a slightly racist-ly described pygmy savage. So, you know, if that’s your thing then you should definitely read The Sign of the Four, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

I will now describe the setting chosen by author Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, as well as the impact it has on the characters involved in his stories. I am totally not doing this as part of a homework assignment. Why would you even think that? Anyway, to get back to the assignmen—I mean personal and completely voluntary blog. The setting of these stories is, for those of you who didn’t already know, London. At the time the stories are set in (late 1800s to early 1900s), London was a time of polluted air and distinct classes. The over-use of coal resulted in a thick smog consuming the air and making breathing difficult. The rich lived in large mansions along the sprawling countryside, while the poor remained stuffed into slums. Holmes and Watson would have been considered middle class, likely upper-middle class. They had a business and were able to afford a relatively nice flat. But apart from their place of living, the setting also impacts the way they go about their adventures. Mostly by cab, or as I mentioned before, by foot, Holmes and Watson navigate their way through the ever-expanding city, solving the unsolvable and making detectives everywhere feel inferior.

Summary and Analysis of "A Study in Scarlet"

In Arthur Conan Doyle's A Study in Scarlet, we are introduced to the world of Sherlock Holmes, as seen through the eyes of Doctor John Watson, Holmes' new flatmate. The story begins with Watson recently having returned home after being released from the British military due to injury sustained in the line of duty. He is now living in England, and in desperate need of a place to live. Luckily, he runs into an old acquaintance of his who just happens to know someone else in need of a flatmate. After meeting this stranger who introduces himself as Sherlock Holmes and somehow knows details of John's life (despite not having been told of him), the doctor gave into his curiosity and decides to move in with him; the address is 221B Baker Street. After living with Holmes and his unique personality traits, Watson is introduced to Holmes' equally unique line of work: as the world's only consulting detective. The reason of Holmes' current participation in an official murder investigation is, at first unclear to John Watson (who is convinced to tag along on the insistence of Holmes himself.), but later becomes obvious when he witnesses Holmes' approach to solving crimes. Although eccentric, Holmes' methods gets results, and Watson and his new friend soon find themselves completely embroiled in a web of lies and deceit that only Sherlock Holmes himself seems to understand. I will spare you the Spoilers in telling you the ending, but let me assure you that it does not disappoint (I can't believe I just said that *face meets with palm in an abrupt fashion*).


I will now discuss the relationship between Sherlock Holmes and John Watson (not that kind of relationship. Sorry shippers!). Their relationship is certainly an interesting one, stemming, it seems, from a common appreciation for each others' talents. With Watson, the appreciation is apparent from the beginning. He is amazed when Holmes first deducts that he was in Afghanistan, and that amazement grows as the case unfolds. In Holmes' case, his appreciation of is less apparent, but no less strong. Watson offers Holmes a companionship he had never before experienced (stop it...). In addition to the friendship, Watson also gives Holmes a different viewpoint, allowing for new angles for Holmes to pursue in his investigating.

Why do we read?

We all read for different reasons, so what we read impacts each of us differently. That is not to say that every book, article, or blog post does not have its own unique personality and tone, simply that our interpretation of those traits differs from person to person. What someone reads as a scene depicting humor, someone else may read as pretentious. We all read for different reasons, some of us read to learn, some of us read because we have to, and some of us read to escape into a world other than our own.

 No matter your reason for sitting down to peruse the publication of your preference (ten points for alliteration!), one thing is guaranteed, you're sure to walk away different then when you began. Reading has a way of influencing us whether we realize it or not. In fact this influence may not be apparent at all, instead it may be a little voice in the back of your mind, quietly reminding your subconscious of that time you let your imagination wander into a world unknown; and of the wonders you experienced there.

Because that's what reading is: an experience. And this experience is unique to each and every one of us, constantly changing and never repeating. Say you read a novel two years ago, if you were to read it again today the emotions and thoughts you would take away from it would be completely different than those you took away two years before.

Seeing as this is my first official blog post, I'll trust you to disregard my lack of nifty sign-off such as, "You stay classy internet," or "Goodnight readers." In lieu of such a phrase please accept this epic, suspense-building pause followed by-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- :)