As with any formula, this won’t work for every writer in every context.  What this site does, however, is creates a starting point for a story in medias res; and that might be the initial charge that your story needs.  If you could do with the structure of a formula, there are other tools that buttress nicely with The Plot Scenario Generator.  Anne Lamott talks about the ABDCE formula in her excellent book on writing, Bird by Bird:

“Action, Background, Development, Climax, Ending.  You begin with action that is compelling enough to draw us in, make us want to know more.  Background is where you let us see and know who these people are, how they’ve come together, what was going on before the opening of the story.  Then you develop these people, so that we learn what they care most about.  The plot—the drama, the actions, the tension—will grow out of that.  You move them along until everything comes together in the climax, after which things are different for the main characters, different in some real way.”

The Plot Scenario Generator can start you off with some action if you’re a sufficiently modern writer thoroughly encumbered by the tendency toward interiors.  However, this generator probably won’t dictate plot in a short story, but if you have already developed some characters and want to see how they tackle certain problems (i.e., plot as deepening the reader’s/writer’s understanding of character), this would be a great way to test/convey your characters in meaningful ways.  You could treat these discoveries as exercises, but I would take John Gardner’s advice and treat every text you write as a potential story rather than an exercise.

And who knows?  Maybe someday you’ll write something of worth that’s revered by critics and loved by the masses.  Something like Firecracker (1981) in which “Femme fatale martial arts expert teaches the mafia a lesson”.

Dream big, fellow traveler.

How Did Sherlock Holmes Pave the Way for 50 Shades of Grey?

Is Miku Hatsune A More Authentic Pop Star Than Lana Del Rey?

The show is hosted and written by Mike Rugnetta (“with a small group of people that help him widdle it down” he says) and new videos are posted every Wednesday. If you want to check out more, visit their youtube channel or follow them on twitter.

So we’re having a wedding.  I’m not one of those people that has been dreaming of and planning their wedding since age 6.  I have done my share of watching “Bridezillas” and “Say Yes to the Dress,” but it’s really more born of a desire to feel like I’m a comparatively great person for not treating other humans like deplorable spider-creatures and for not thinking someone should take out a high-interest loan to buy me one dress.  In the beginning, I thought I just wanted the food to be good, the drinks to be flowing, and the people to have fun.  I don’t know where I got off that track.

Actually, I do know where I got off that track.  I’ve heard murmurs of the “Wedding Industrial Complex,” and while I think I could point some of the blame there, I’m fairly sure that there’s something else at play.  Back up, though, I want to talk about the Wedding Industrial Complex.  I’ve spent some time thinking about the ties between the institution of marriage and the military-industrial complex, and I’ve got nothing.  Besides some tinfoil hat conspiracies I have about John Boehner, Dick Cheney, and the wedding dress industry, which I will graciously spare you from, I think the only connection is that the phrase “wedding industry” fits neatly into the “blank”-industrial complex format.  That being said, the wedding industry may be just as sinister as the military-industrial complex.  Example:  I went to David’s Bridal once, and they’ve been calling me on a weekly basis ever since.  They also sold all my information, so other people call me, email me, and mail me things that say, “Only 4 more months to lose all that horrifying weight before you waste $3,000 on catering because your guests will lose their appetites once they see you in that dress!  Try our gym!”  In protest, when I found a dress I liked at David’s Bridal, I refused to buy it.  You can go straight to hell, David’s Bridal!  I’m taking that $300 with me to the grave!

Oh, the dress.  Somewhere in all those ironic viewings of “Say Yes to the Dress,” I may actually have accidently soaked up some unrealistic expectations.  I went to store after store, and tried on dress after dress.  It had to be classic, but quirky, like Zooey Deschanel floating on a cotton candy cloud in fairytown village.  Oh, and under $1,000.  This turned out to be impossible, and I ended up buying a dress off the rack that was 50% off, partly because I liked the way it looked and partly out of a desire to never step foot in a bridal store again.  I got a ton of buyer’s remorse, to the point where I was worrying that the wedding would be ruined because I was wearing the wrong thing.  Then one day (uh, today actually), I had the realization that it didn’t matter.  It was pretty, and I would neither be naked, nor wearing overalls at my wedding.  It’s just a dress that I’m going to be wearing for a couple hours on one day.  Then it will sit in my closet for years, until my daughter gets married and refuses to wear it because it’s dated and tacky, and I’ll quietly cry myself to sleep that night on my floating bed (the Future!).  Life is going to go on, and this one article of clothing doesn’t matter much in the overall scheme of my existence.

The dress isn’t the only thing I’ve gone off the deep end about, either.  The whole concept of the wedding was getting overwhelming to me, and I was spiraling into this weird state of constant anxiety about things like whether the color of my straws was going to clash with the leaves on the trees outside.  Where was this coming from?  David’s Bridal?  TLC and cable TV?  Nay, I think I know the culprit.  Early on in the whole process, I started reading “wedding blogs” for “inspiration.”  I looked at romantic pictures of antique furniture painted in pastel colors, filled with wildflowers, and dragged out into the middle of a field and thought, “what a cute idea.”  I saw pictures of nymphet bridesmaids frolicking through a city on their vintage bicycles.  I believed internet people when they said I should splurge on an expensive photographer because all I would have at the end were the pictures.  Just the pictures.  All this planning, all this worrying, all this money, and all we would have at the end would be a stupid picture album to set on the coffee table we don’t have because we live in a studio apartment.  That was what snapped me out of it.  The pictures.  I realized that I was starting to look for little knick-knacks I could hide around the wedding.  So someone could find them and be tickled?  No, so we could get a dumb picture of them, framed artistically and shrouded in instagram-like pastel light.  I was worrying if the trees were going to clash with my colors not because I thought anyone would notice, but because I was worried what it would look like in pictures.  What was going on?

It ain’t natural. (Via Design*Sponge)

I think I happened upon this weird wedding sub-culture that we regular people have created with a little help from the wedding-industrial complex.  I was not only fed, but desired these cute artsy photos from other people’s weddings, and I started to feel that this is how it’s supposed to be.  This is what a wedding is.  It isn’t the memories, or the commitment, or the fun people had, it’s the photos that other strangers on the internet can coo over.  And that’s not me.  In fact, I’m willing to bet it’s not you either.  Let’s be honest, most people would feel a little creeped out if they happened upon a pastel bureau filled with flowers in the middle of a field.  That is an insane thing to do for a wedding.  People aren’t going to remember that I had 270 tiny deer figurines hidden around the reception.  They’re going to remember that they went to a party with their friends and family and had fun.  So, I’m giving it up.  I’m not going to worry anymore about whether my colors look cute enough, or whether my decorations are fit for Martha Stewart.   I’m not going to read the wedding blogs anymore.  I’m going to pick things that Madison and I like, period.  Tacky, or not.  I’m going to focus on throwing a fun party.  And in the end, I think that’s all that matters.  Oh, and that we get married, I guess.  Also world peace.  For good measure.

My hope is to help encourage a “non-soy-based, non-heavily-processed, local-focused veg diet, [which] is the definition of low impact.”

So when I’m at the grocery store and I see something labeled “wheat-meat” and is supposedly both “mock duck” and “mock pork” simultaneously, I was immediately intrigued (like characters in Dracula, both entranced/repelled).  I imagine that this is some kind of vegetarian frankenproduct, but it turns out that’s really not the case if you make it yourself.

A Kirk Cameron’s depiction of the animal seitan comes from

Though it appears to be a highly processed mock-food, seitan (pronounced SAY-TAN), actually only contains two ingredients:  vital gluten flour and water.  Seitan is basically high-gluten boiled bread; it’s obviously not gluten-free.  If you don’t feel like spending time locating vital gluten flour (which you can pick up at any health food store and at some supermarket organic sections) or if you don’t want to make this recipe for whatever reason, you can find commercial seitan in Asian/international markets or in health food stores (but the mark-up on seitan is incredibly high:  12 oz of seitan will run you about $4.00 (and that was at Kroger)–however, making it only costs about a buck a pound).

Canned from an international store is the cheaper albeit more dubious option

But don’t waste your money!  Don’t eat something out of a can you can’t read! Make seitan yourself! I’ve been improving this recipe for awhile and have worked out the kinks.  You won’t have to sell your soul for this meat substitute (har, har, har).

Invite SEITAN into your household in SIX simple steps!

Makes about 2 pounds of seitan and takes about an hour and a half (largely unattended)

For the Seitan:

1 c vital gluten flour (This very fine flour boasts an 85% protein content)

¾ c Water

1. Mix the essential wheat gluten with the water by hand until most of the flour is incorporated.  As soon as the water hits the flour, you’ll be surprised to see how rapidly becomes a stretchy glutinous ball.

2. Knead for 5 minutes as you would a bread dough (or two minutes on a stand-mixer) until it’s stretchy

3. Cover for 30 minutes (And no more! And don’t peek or it won’t work! Seriously!)

DON’T PEEK! The delightful magic of seitan only works in the darkness.

4. Mix up a simmering liquid in a large pot

Dark Simmering Liquid:

6 c Vegetable Stock (or you can substitute salted water with three halved cloves of garlic)

¼ c Soy Sauce (can also use white wine, just up the salt)

Salt and Pepper (to taste—you want this to be slightly saltier than an average soup)

A pinch of Herbs de Provence or any fresh herbs you have on-hand (optional)

5. Cut the dough in two and stretch each into an unappetizing-looking log, then place each in the simmering liquid, bring it to a boil, then lower it to medium heat and cover for about an hour.  Flip them once or twice so they cook evenly.  I’d suggest cooking it about 15 minutes more if it’s too firm– it has a tendency to be too chewy

It’s not all that appetizing to look at; yes, it’s a bit of a steamy heap… but it gets better looking when properly seasoned and cooked.

6. To store, let it cool in the liquid then place it in a storage container

(Because it does look like a certain bodily discharge before it’s cooked, store it in a large ziploc baggie with its liquid.  Write a clever label on your baggie and send me a picture of it or a roommate’s reaction to finding this oddity in your fridge at smithmadisonsmith@gmail.com)

Just so you don’t get totally turned off to the idea of making seitan (due to it’s odd appearance), here’s a picture of some tacos I made by seasoning chopped seitan with a chipotle seasoning from Findlay Market in Cincinnati.

Seitan shines when fried or grilled.  Season seitan liberally before using it and like extra-firm tofu, you can cook it pretty much forever without it burning.

I hope you try this recipe out or at least learned that behind its weird exterior, seitan is a simple versatile food that works great as a meat substitute.

Next Time: Tofu: Making it and Baking it

I’ve adapted Mark Bittman’s recipe from his great book How to Cook Everything Vegetarian.  This is the best vegetable stock I’ve tried.  Once prepared, you can use this surprisingly hearty stock to build a soup (I’ve made everything from vegetarian chili to tortilla soup with this stock), sauce, to fortify grains like quinoa (use stock in place of water), or you can just sip it on a hot summer day (if you’re into that).

I like to make about two quarts (1/2 gallon) at any given time—you can cut this recipe in half or double it depending on how much you want to make, but bear in mind that it only takes a few more minutes of prep to double or triple this recipe.  (Storage information follows):

Bittman’s One-Hour Vegetable Stock:

You’ll need a stock pot (or at least a pot large enough to hold about a gallon) and a mesh strainer.

2 tablespoons of olive oil (don’t use your best stuff—this is just for frying the veggies)

4 sliced carrots

2 quartered onions (don’t bother peeling)

2 sliced potatoes

2 chopped celery stalks

4-6 cloves of garlic (don’t bother peeling)

10 halved mushrooms (I go for the cheap stuff here)

(Optional) 10-20 sprigs of parsley (I haven’t used this because I never have parsley on-hand)

4 tablespoons soy sauce

Salt and pepper to taste

1. After washing your celery, potatoes, carrots, etc. chop all the vegetables.  You don’t have to be precise here; keep the skins on the onions and garlic—you’ll be straining the stock, so don’t worry about it.  Don’t use frozen vegetables for this recipe; these hold too much excess water which will prevent browning in step 3. And besides, fresh vegetables are purty.

Vegetables are purty.

2. Put the olive oil in a deep pot (I recommend using a stock pot so not to dirty every dish in the house) over medium high heat.

3. Add the vegetables and let them cook undisturbed for 3-5 minutes (you’re trying to brown the veggies here, so don’t freak out if they start caramelizing; that’s flavor country, friend). Add some salt here to draw out moisture, stir once or twice and cook until vegetables start to brown.

4. Add parsley, 12 cups of water, the soy sauce, and some pepper (it’ll hiss at you and steam up; I use a pitcher to keep my hand out of the heat).  Bring to a boil, then lower heat so it simmers steadily, but gently.

"Sssssssssssssssssss"

5. Cook about 30 minutes to an hour (longer is better, but don’t go much over an hour or the veggies will break down).

6. Strain (I use a mesh strainer and a second pot thusly).  From here, you are supposed to discard the vegetables (the carrots/celery are a flavorless but can be used to thicken a soup down the line). But I’ve found that you can definitely repurpose the potatoes (which having absorbed the flavors of onion and garlic, are pretty tasty) and the mushrooms (though I found that the stalks were a bit chewy).

Another fine mesh you've gotten us into...

7. Taste and adjust seasoning. I added a bit more salt and soy sauce when I made this recipe (bear in mind that this isn’t meant to be a completed soup—it’s not meant to stand on its own).

8. Good job. You now have a ton of stock.

Nothing says "photo op" like hot brown liquid.

So you’ll probably run into the practical concern of storing the stuff.

Luckily, storing stock is easy and you have a few options:

Long-term condensed version:  Once you’re done with the recipe above (having properly seasoned your stock) and have discarded (or repurposed) your veggies, continue boiling it down to about half its original volume then store it in the freezer (I use gallon Ziploc freezer bags (you can reuse ‘em too!)). When you’re ready to use the stock, remember to add water to the stock concentrate.

Note:  Some people store their condensed stock in ice cube trays for ease of use in making sauces, stir-frys, etc. We don’t talk about those people.  If you meet any of these people, remember that they are (presumably) unwholesome and untrustworthy (they’re probably lizard owners).

Long-term regular version: Let it cool, pour it into a massive Tupperware or a Ziploc freezer bag).  Now sit back and watch as your roommates/partner reacts to the sudden loss of freezer space.  Remember to write down notes in your copybook*.

*Try drawing a picture of their reaction and email it to me: smithmadisonsmith@gmail.com.

Short-term: Refrigerate that; make a soup out of it (like a trustworthy non-lizard owner).

I hope that this recipe becomes essential to your kitchen too.  It’s cheap, easy, hands-off, completely vegetarian (vegan even), and it’s delicious.  Enjoy.

Next Time:  The weird world of homemade “wheat meat,” or “HAIL SEITAN!”

Here’s an image of Cincinnati using the 8-bit Quest Mode :

And their adorable video on the update to 8-bit (replete with NES/any cartridge system nostalgia) :

And thus concludes my maiden attempt at animation.

(an expansion on this previous post)

I recently invaded his home and asked him questions about the foremost problems facing humanity, his comedic influences, etc.  in the name of the midcoast.

He also edited three comedic versions of the interview that are hilarious.

Ben Dudley’s Youtube channel

A beach picture to trick you into reading this.

Part 2:  In which I survive a harrowing car ride, and eat a frozen treat.

Have you been to Maui?  It’s a little good, and a little strange.  We will explore both.

The mountains (volcanoes/craters) are generally in the center of the islands, and for the most part, the highways and roads make their way around the mountains.  That means you get a nice view of the ocean when you’re driving just about anywhere.  Oh, it also means that sometimes, you’re driving on a one lane road next to a steep cliff that drops down to the ocean.  Ha Ha, Adventure!  This is really fun for anyone who’s not particularly into ensuring the continuing natural function of their organs/generally living.  On one of the particularly bad roads, luckily for us all, was a population of Schiedea globosa.  This means I got to spend a day trying to collect plants from the side of a one lane road, while tourists unaccustomed to mountain cliff driving attempted to avoid killing us, hitting an oncoming car, or driving off the side of the cliff.  I’m starting to think I did something long ago to dishonor this plant’s family, and now it’s getting its revenge.  On the plus side, after climbing up a steep cliff with unstable soil and thorny shrubs, we got to a little point where we could watch whales spouting in the ocean while we were collecting.  Turns out, it’s whale birthing season!  That’s right, this is the time of year when humpbacks journey from Alaska to Hawaii to welcome their babies into warm, paradise-like waters.  Only to force them to swim back up to Alaska afterwards in a painful tradition comparable to spending the better part of 24 years in the Midwest.  I kid.  But seriously, every time I’m starting to attribute malicious, humanoid characteristics to the landscape, Hawaii does something that makes my heart melt.

An idyllic village found at the end of a horrifying death-trap locals refer to as a "road."

Example:  I finally got Hawaiian shave ice.  But Megan, you say, Hawaiian shave ice is available everywhere!  You can drive to Loveland and get it!  Ah, you would be right.  But the shave ice here, it is an entirely different animal.  For starters, they will put a scoop of ice cream in the bottom of your shave ice cup.  Ice cream!  Like macadamia nut or coconut pudding ice cream!  Then the ice goes on top, and it’s topped by fresh fruit purees (like mango puree made from the FREE MANGOES LITERALLY LYING ON THE GROUND).  As if that weren’t enough, you can also get a snow cap, which is a sweetened condensed milk mixture that goes on top.  It’s how they get mainlanders to relocate permanently to the islands!  No, not the beaches, stupid, it’s the shave ice.

God himself could not make a shave ice this good.

Ok ok, you’re jelly.  I can tell.  Let’s keep it real.  We go to another field site, which is a whopper.  It’s off a little dirt road that we can’t access with our rental PT Cruiser (-___-), so we hop in the back of the land manager’s pickup truck to get there.  On the way, there is a seemingly non-functional farm with one lazy goat (aren’t they all, amirite?  JUST KIDDING GOAT LOBBY), a pack of peacocks, and a baby cow that gallops around playing with its best friend, a dog (;___;).  An assortment of animals that are entirely useful, I’m sure.  Also we have to cross a river.  I couldn’t find any hiking sandals in Ohio before I left, so I got to cross the river in my waterproof hiking boots.  Which worked great until my boots were submerged and the water was trapped inside the boot.  All day.  Curse you, past Megan!

No, but seriously, these boots saved my life on multiple occasions. Thanks, boots. Thoots.

Ok, so we get to the field site after all that, and the whole population has apparently slid off the cliff into the ocean.  Hawaii is made of shield volcanoes (no, trust me, that’s incredibly geologically accurate), that have really unstable cliffs that often slide into the ocean.  On the plus side, that was our last group of plants, and here we were in Maui for 4 more days.  We were trying to locate more populations by asking the locals, but here’s a funny thing:  the locals weren’t really into telling us where the plants are.  And it’s not like we’re just asking people waltzing down the street, we’re asking biologists and academics.  Now, most of the Hawaiians I’ve met have been exceedingly nice and helpful.  Perhaps they just want to keep Hawaiian research in Hawaii.  But it’s not like anyone else in Hawaii is really studying this plant, so who knows.  Maybe they have already realized the malicious nature of globosa and are simply trying to protect us.  JOIN US NEXT TIME, on Oahu.

A post in which I may actually go to the beach, and have fun.