Showing posts with label dragon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dragon. Show all posts

Friday, June 8, 2018

The Flight of the Dragon

This is the first short story I wrote, c. 1980, while I was a student at Northern Virginia Community College (Annandale, Virginia campus). It won the contest's third prize; later, at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, it took first place. After writing it, I submitted the story to Twilight Zone magazine, the publisher of which was Serling's widow, Carolyn. Although the story was not accepted for publication, I received an encouraging letter from Mrs. Serling in which she told me "The Flight of the Dragon" had been held by the magazine's editors for a second reading, a sure sign that it had been seriously considered for publication. I am posting it here along with a few endnotes that may provide a few tips on techniques and authorial decisions that, hopefully, may help aspiring writers new to the enterprise.



The Flight of the Dragon1

Copyright 1980 by Gary Pullman

The children sat quietly2 in their seats, facing the front of the little, one-room schoolhouse, their eyes focused attentively on the boy who stood, awkwardly, his head down, beside Miss Watkins. He was black-haired, and almond-eyed, with the saffron complexion that marks the Asian people. The description of Wang's physical appearance includes references to his racial characteristics.
“Boys and girls,” said Miss Watkins, their teacher3, “I want to introduce a new pupil. His name is Wang Li. Wang comes to us all the way from Taiwan, by way of Boston and Denver, where he lived for a time. Taiwan is an independent republic on an island off the coast of China, formerly called Formosa.”
Wang lifted his head and gazed at the class uncertainly, shyly. Encouraged by the smiles he saw, he smiled in return.
“Wang,” said Miss Watkins, “won't you tell us a little about yourself?”4
He did, amazing himself at the extent of his speech. He told them of his parents' deaths, and of his grandfather5, with whom he lived, and of how his grandfather made kites6, and of how they had come to the United States when he was a baby, and of the fact that, today, he was nine years old. And he told them about Chinese customs, about their reverence for ancestors, and about how their respect for their elders, and, above all, about their history and heritage.
Very good,” Miss Watkins said when he had finished. “Has anyone any questions to ask Wang?”
A hand shot7 up.
Miss Watkins scanned the audience. “Surely someone must have a question,” she said.8
The hand waved, quivered, flapped.9
Miss Watkins suspiciously eyed the bulky boy10 to whom the insistent hand belonged. She frowned. “Yes, Sammy, what is it?”
I have a question, Miss Watkins,” he announced primly, the primness a practiced form of sarcasm.11
Well, what is it?”
He looked at her innocently. “I was wondering why the chinks, such as Wrongly, have such screwed-up eyes, and does it affect their seeing?”12
Miss Watkins regarded Sammy coolly.13 Beside her, Wang had hung his head, as if he were shamed, suddenly, of his Chinese heritage.
“We do not refer to Chinese persons by so vulgar and crude a word as 'chinks,' Sammy,” she intoned emphatically. “Do I make myself quite clear?”
Sammy side-stepped the question14, saying, “My dad does.”15
“That is his problem,” replied Miss Watkins. “You are mine.”16
The class giggled, despite their fear of Sammy.17
In my classroom,” Miss Watkins continued, “we shall address one another by our proper, given names.”18
“But I wasn't talking to him,” countered Sammy. “I was talking about him.”
“We will neither speak of others, nor address others, by any name other than their proper, given names.” She regarded his bulk. “After all, you wouldn't like it if I called you 'Fatty,' would you?”
Sammy blushed, averted his eyes from her piercing, unwavering stare. “No, ma'am,” he admitted.
“We understand one another, then? Fine.” She turned to the boy beside her. “Wang, you may be seated now. Thank you for your excellent talk.”
Wang took a seat, away from Sammy.19
Sammy raised his hand.
Yes, Sammy?” Miss Watkins noticed her jaw was clenched, her teeth gritted; she relaxed. “What is it now?”20
“You didn't say why the Chinese have such screwy—I mean, screwed-up—eyes.”
Miss Watkins explained.
“Does having such screwed-up eyes affect the Chinese people's ability to see?”
“They see just as clearly as we do, Sammy,” she said, smiling sweetly, “and a great deal more clearly than some of us.”
This time the class openly guffawed.
When, a few moments later, Miss Watkins turned her back to the class to write the day's homework on the blackboard, Sammy put his fingertips just below the outer corners of his eyes, pulling them outward, away from his face, and grinned at Wang's reaction.
Jennifer, the red-haired girl who sat next to Wang, said to him, “Don't pay any attention to him. He's just a big, fat bully.” And she turned her pretty face on Sammy and glared.21

The old man held a fine, bone-china teacup in his long, slender fingers.22 Across the table from him23, his grandson sat, eating a buttered rice cake.24
“Did you enjoy your first day at your new school, Wang?”25
The boy shrugged. “It was all right.”
The old man studied him, stroking his chin through his long, gray beard. His small, dark eyes were thoughtful, sympathetic.26 “Did someone ridicule you, my son?”
Reluctantly, he nodded. “Only one boy. But Miss Watkins, my teacher, and Jennifer, were nice. They seem to like me.”
“Jennifer?” His grandfather looked at him, his eyes twinkling.
Wang blushed. “The girl who sits next to me in class.”
The fan of wrinkles that spread out from the corners of the old man's eyes deepened as he smiled.27 “That is good, indeed.”
“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. Miss Watkins asked me to stay after school.”
“Wang! You did not fight the boy—”
“No, grandfather. She wanted to ask me to ask you if you would come to school and give a talk on kites. Will you?”
“When did she say that I should come?”
“Tuesday afternoon, if you can.”
His grandfather nodded. “I will come.”28
“Grandfather?”
“Yes, Wang?”
The boy hesitated.
“What is it you would speak, my son?”
“The boy who ridiculed me today—he called me a 'chink.' He asked me why my eyes are . . . as they are.”
“You are Chinese, my son. Be not ashamed of your heritage, for it is an ancient and an honorable one.”29
“I know, grandfather.”
“Do your eyes not serve you well?”
“Yes.”
“They are a gift, freely given you; be thankful for them, and sorrow not.”30
“I am thankful. I just thought—I thought he might say things about you, too, insult you. I don't think he likes Chinese people.”31
The old man laughed. “I hold many years, and, I hope, a little wisdom. My old ears do not hear the proud disdain of enemies I do not know.” He pushed his cup away and rose. “Would you like to see your birthday present?32 I have finished it.”
Grandfather and grandson33 stepped into the garage that Mr. Li had converted into a workshop. Kites of various sizes, shapes, and designs hung on wooden pegs set in the walls. From the ceiling was suspended, on silken threads, a fabulous and wonderful one, a newly-made one, a kite that was a work of art, a masterpiece.34
Wang gazed at it, open-mouthed, his eyes sparkling.
It was a dragon.
It was a dragon, twelve feet long.
It was golden-eyed and shining-eyed. It was armored with scales the color of the sea. Long, delicate, featherless wings, thin and pliable, spread out, slightly drooping, from its sides. Out of the snarling, fanged mouth, fire issued forth, red and yellow and orange.
Wang moved forward slowly, holding his breath, his arm outstretched before him. He knew that it was made of tissue and cloth stretched over bamboo. But his hand paused in mid-reach.35 The hairs on the back of his forearm stood on end. His heart beat fast. He put out his hand and touched the fearsome beast. It turned slowly toward him on its silken threads. He exhaled. It was paper and cloth.
“It's beautiful,” said Wang softly, “beautiful, beautiful. Oh, thank you, grandfather!”
“It looks real?”
“I was afraid, almost, to touch it.”36
The old man laughed. “The fire is made of colored tissue paper. It will seem to burn in the wind. The wings will rise and fall with the slightest changes in the currents of the air.”
Wang ran a hand over the dark green scales. “Soon it will fly,” he said.37
Sammy having taken ill with the flu, had been absent from school all week.38 Without his constant threats, insults, and ridicule, there was lightheartedness and laughter. In the classroom, children who had never done so before raised their hands and spoke their minds39 and, on the playground, at recess, Wang was permitted, even asked, to join in a game of tag or kickball or simply a round of conversation.40 Miss Watkins seemed more re;axed, too. She smiled more often and made jokes more often and laughed more often. But, best of all, Jennifer and Wang had become fast friends. She had visited him at home several days in a row.41
She was visiting him there now.42
She was, like Wang, enchanted by the dragon. “It's the biggest, best, most beautiful kite I have ever seen,” she said, “better even than any others your grandfather has made.”
Wang asked her whether she thought the other children might be interested in having a kite-flying contest “with the dragon as the prize.”
“With a prize like that, I know I would,” she replied.
“Good!” he said, “That settles it.43 I'll see whether Grandfather will sponsor one. He could provide the kites and be the judge.”
The next day, Tuesday, found Sammy's seat still empty.44 History followed math, which followed geography, and, after recess, Miss Watkins finally45 introduced Wang's father, and he began his talk on kites. Much of what he said Wang had heard before, about how an ancient Chinese general, Han Sin, had invented the kite for use in war, and about how Benjamin Franklin had employed a kite in his famous experiment, and about how cameras had been attached to kites to take pictures during the Spanish-American War, and about how Alexander Graham Bell uses a large box-kite to carry a United States army lieutenant to a height of one-hundred-and-seventy-five feet46 while testing designs for a successful airplane, and about how a kite had been used in the building of the suspension bridge over Niagara Falls, and about how the United States Weather Bureau uses kites, even today, to record barometric pressure, temperature, wind velocity, and humidity. And Wang, of course, had seen the kites his grandfather made, the gaily decorated Chinese lanterns, the flowerpots, the storks, the insects, the kimono-clad Chinese women, and the musical kites that had little cups as their tops which turn in the wind and operate with clappers which strike their gongs. Only one detail was new to Wang, and that was the story behind the Chinese celebration of Kite Day.
“So, you see, children,” Miss Watkins said, when Mr. Li had concluded his talk, “we Americans owe a great deal to the Chinese kite invention.”
Miss Watkins thanked Wang's grandfather for coming to school to speak on the kite, “especially on the short notice I gave you.”
Mr. Li bowed, a dignified, stately bow.47 “I only hope that the children enjoyed it half as much as I,” he said, and smiled. “But there is one more thing I should say to your class, if I may. I promise I shall be brief.”
“Please do,” Miss Watkins replied.
He told them about the kite-flying contest to be held on Saturday. “A contest is always worthwhile, and so is this one,” he spoke dramatically, “for the prize is a most elegant and fabulous one, the only one of its kind in the world. The contest is open to all, and I am furnishing the kites of your choice.48 I do hope you will come.”
There were loud, excited cheers and affirmations.
“Than you, again, for coming, Mr. Li. We certainly enjoyed it. Your kites are truly wonderful creations, and you know so much of the lore of the kite. You are, indeed, a remarkable man.”49
“Thank you. I trust I shall see you at the contest?”
“I'm thinking about competing myself,” she said, with a smile.
On the way home, Wang asked his grandfather to tell him again the legend behind Kite Day.50 “Why is it you've never told me before?” he asked.
“It is a very old story, Wang, as old, perhaps, as the kite itself, or nearly so. In truth, I suppose I had forgotten it myself, if, in fact, I ever knew it. But, in preparing for my talk today, I reviewed the writings in the old books,51 and, there, I discovered it.”
“Tell it to me again, grandfather, please.”
The old man smiled. “It is a short and simple tale, my son. It seems that once, hundreds and hundreds of years ago, a Chinese man dreamed that, on a certain day, misfortune would befall him and his family and his house. Thus, on that day, he and his family departed from their home and went apart together to a hill far away and amused themselves with the flying of a kite. And, in the evening, they returned home, and, lo, their house was still standing, undamaged, and they themselves, also, were unharmed. It is said that it was because they flew the kite that day that they escaped the danger dreamed of by the man. And that is why, my son, on Kite Day, kites are flown in China and in Taiwan, for a kite carries evil from him who is its flier, if he be of a good heart.”52
Wang was silent for a time as they walked along. “Is the legend true, grandfather?” he asked at length.
“There is the truth, and there are truths,”53 the old man replied.
Wang, his boyish face serious, said, “I don't think I understand.”
The old man smiled sadly, ruffling his grandson's hair. “Oh, my son, my son,” he said softly. “One day you will know the meaning of the story.54 Let it be said, until that time, that it is true, in a way, and, in that way, it is true, indeed.”
The kite carries evil from its flier?”55
“So it is said.”
Wang thought of Sammy and of the dragon, and he was quiet for so long that finally his grandfather asked him whether something was the matter.
“I am thinking, grandfather,” he relied, “only thinking.”


“This—”56 Miss Watkins, standing beside Wang's grandfather, said, waving an arm to indicate the children running to and fro across the open field in efforts to gather enough momentum to launch their trailing kites or standing their ground and tugging at the end of the string they gripped in their balled hands in an effort to raise their kites higher and higher and higher57—“would probably have been impossible if Sammy hadn't taken sick.”58
“Sammy,” Mr. Li repeated. “Is the boy yet ill?”
“He hasn't come back to school yet. But it's just the flu. He'll be back soon enough.”
Miss Watkins resumed watching the children. True to his word, Mr. Li had invited them to choose from among the kites the one each liked best and that one he had given them. They had chosen large ones, medium-size ones, and small ones; red ones, yellow ones, orange ones, blue ones, green ones, and rainbow-colored ones; square ones, rectangular ones, triangular ones, and diamond-shape ones. They had chosen kites fashioned after animals, birds, fish, and flowers. They had, since Mr. Li had announced the contest last Tuesday (and especially after Wang, the following day, had displayed the fabulous dragon prize) filled the open field behind Wang's house; their kites filled the sky.59
“Seldom have I seen them so enjoy themselves,” said Miss Watkins happily.
“I am glad,” answered Wang's grandfather, “that my kites have brought them joy. Tell me, if he is well by Saturday, do you think young Sammy might join the contest?”
Miss Watkins laughed. “He'd be more likely to discourage, or disrupt, it.”
“Might he not compete if he knew that the winning of the dragon is the desire of every child here, of every child in his class at school?”
Miss Watkins considered his question. “He might,” she said, “for spite's sake. But why are you so interested in having hi compete?”
The old man looked at her. “I made the kites—I make them—for children like Sammy, too,” he said.

The next day was Friday, the day before the kite contest.60 During recess, Sammy, newly returned to school, personally passed the word: “The chink kid is my enemy; anybody who likes him enough to fly his grandfather's kites in some dumb contest is my enemy, too, and will be dealt with in the same way I intend to deal with him.” Sammy held his left hand out, flat, open, from his waist, and slammed his right hand, a closed fist, into it.61
“Don't let his threats worry you, Wang,” Jennifer said. “No one's going to listen to him, not now, not anymore.”62
Jennifer was wrong. One by one, the children let him know they would not be participating in the contest.
When the day ended and the children left for home, Jennifer called to Sammy, “I'm going to the contest tomorrow, Fatty, and you can't stop me!”
Sammy stopped, turned. He glared at her fiercely across the short distance between them. “What did you say?” he demanded.
Jennifer felt a lurching lightness in her stomach. Her knees felt weak. “I said,” she repeated loudly, “that I'm going to the contest tomorrow and you can;'t stop me—Fatty!”
Sammy let his books fall, darting forward, toward Jennifer.
Jennifer spun about, to flee, but she was tool ate. The bulky boy flung himself on her, bringing her down to the ground. He raised a fist to strike.63 Wang rushed toward the boy and leaped, knocking him off the screaming girl. They rolled over and over on the dirty pavement.64
“Boys, boys!” yelled Miss Watkins, who had heard the noise and come out of the schoolhouse to see what was the matter. “Here, here! What is the meaning of this behavior?” She took hold of the bully's ear and twisted hard. “You, Sammy! Get off of Wang!”
Sammy got up quickly, struggling to free himself from his teacher's grip.
“Jennifer! What are you doing, all dirty and your dress torn?”
“Sammy knocked me down,” said Jennifer. “Wang got him off me before he could beat me.”
“Sammy, is that true?” Miss Watkins demanded, her tone severe.
“She called me a name,” wailed Sammy. “She called me 'Fatty'!”
“And you think that was reason for you to fling yourself on her, a girl a third your size, you big bully?”65 She gave his ear a mighty twist and shoved him toward the schoolhouse. “Your parents will be informed of this,” she stated.
“Bravo!” shouted a small. Freckle-face boy with sandy hair.66
“You were great, Jennifer,” said another boy, “the way you stood right up to that big bully and even called him a name. You were great, too, Wang. I'm ashamed of myself, really ashamed. And I tell you what, if the contest's still on, you can count on me to come.”67
“Thanks, Mike,” Wang replied, “and the contest is still on, for as many as want to come.”
“Well, like I said, I'll be there,” Jennifer said.
“Thanks, Jenny.”
“I'm coming,” said another boy.
“And me, too,” said another.
The boy named Mike laughed. “It would be easier just to see who's not coming.”
“Let's do that, then,” said the boy with the freckles. “Everybody who's not coming to Wang's kite-flying contest tomorrow raise your hand.”
No one raised a hand.
Smiling, Wang turned to Jennifer. “Thanks again, Jenny.”
“That's okay; that's what friends are for. And, besides, I was getting tired of Sammy's bullying me and everybody else in school.68 I just hope to win the dragon.”
“You will. You've had more practice than anyone else but me, and I can't enter the contest—grandfather said it wouldn't be right since he's going to be the judge. Anyway, you'll win. Just remember everything I taught you.”69

Saturday, at last, had come. The day was cool. The sky was overcast.70 It was a windy, blustery day.71
“Grandfather, is it late?” Wang, sleepy-eyed, looked from the clock on the kitchen wall to his grandfather, seated at the table, sipping his tea.
The old man smiled. “I woke early; all is ready.”
“You should have awakened me. I could have helped you.”
“I needed no help, my son. I have prepared for many such contests.”
A thought occurred to Wang. “What about the dragon?”72
The old man rose. “Come,” he said, “and see for yourself.”
Outside, in the open field behind their home, Mr. Li73 had set a star-spangled tablecloth upon the picnic table, along with paper plates and cups and plastic cutlery. There were cake and pastries and cookies and candy. All this, Wang took in at a glance as he ran, ahead of his grandfather, to a large white stone in which was set an iron hook. Over this stone, attached to the hook by a line, the great dragon kite hovered, low in the darkling sky.74
“Take the line, my son,” called Mr. Li, over the sound of the wind. “Guide it; make it fly.”75
Wang grasped the line, pulled it. Above, as the line drew taut, the dragon, a moment later, responded. It ceased its wavering, its quivering, its flapping.76 Veering to the left, it climbed higher aloft on the currents of the air.
“Grandfather!” Wang cried delightedly, “it flies, it flies!”
“Yes, Wang, it flies,” the old man said, nodding. His voice was too soft to be heard above the wailing of the banshee77 wind.
The dragon fights against me, grandfather, like a thing alive. It—it seems so real, Grandfather! I am frightened.”78
The old man, standing now beside Wang, put a hand on the boy's shoulder. “Do not be afraid. I am here.79

“I wasn't sure you wouldn't cancel the contest, Mr. Li,” said Miss Watkins.80
“Cancel it?”
“Because of the rain. It's supposed to rain today.” She ran her hands up and down her goose-pimpled arms.81 “You can feel it in the air.”
“Yes, the weather report does call for rain, I know,” said Mr. Li, “this afternoon. Thunder showers. But, by then, the contest will have ended.”82
“Did Wang tell you about his fight with Sammy?”
“I have told him not to fight, that there are other ways, better ways to—”83
“Yes, but Sammy started the fight. Of course, I told his parents. Hmpfh! They said they'd 'look into it.'”
Mr. Li shook his head, frowning. “I had hoped that Sammy might come today.”
“You are a kind man, Mr. Li, a very kind man. But there's such a thing as being too nice, you know—especially where people like Sammy are concerned.”84
“Perhaps you are right, Miss Watkins.”
Sammy lay on his stomach, behind the garage, peering round the corner85 at Wang, at Wang's grandfather, at Miss Watkins, at Jennifer, at his other classmates, who were carefree, shouting and talking, running and leaping, laughing at themselves, at one another, at their kites, at the darkened sky, at the howling wind, at the gathering storm.86
“I hate them,” he said bitterly. “I hate the all.”87
It began, gently, to rain.88
“Oh!” said Miss Watkins, “now the contest will be ruined.”
“No,” said Mr. Li. “I have watched long enough to name a winner.”
Miss Watkins called the children, and, when they had all gathered round, Mr. Li named the winner.
“Oh, Jenny! I'm so glad!” said Wang, smiling. “You won! You won!” He kissed her cheek.
“Let's go fly the dragon,” Jennifer said excitedly.
The rain fell harder suddenly.89 In but a moment, the sky grew dark as night.
Get inside, children,”90 Miss Watkins ordered, “quickly now.”
The children sped91 toward the house.
“Let's get the dragon down,” Jennifer said to Wang.
“Never mind that now,” said Miss Watkins. “Into the house!”
“Look!” cried Jennifer.
Lightning had flashed, and, in the sudden flare of the white light, Sammy was revealed. He stooped over the white stone, a penknife in hand, sawing at the line to which the dragon kite92 was tethered.
“Stop!” cried Wang.
But the deed was done. There was a look of triumph in the bulky boy's eyes93 as he glared at them. And then he was running, the kite line in his hand.
“Come back here!” yelled Jennifer.
The sky was now dark, now light, as the lightning flared. A gust of wind blew across the field, nearly knocking Wang and Jennifer to the ground.94
“Children, are you all right?” asked Miss Watkins.
There was a scream of terror.
Sammy, was that you?”
“Help! Help!” screamed Sammy. “Somebody, help me!”
“Sammy, where are you?”
Lightning flashed.
“Up here!”
Still hanging onto the kite line, Sammy was ten feet off the ground and rising.
“Let go, Sammy!” yelled Miss Watkins. “Let go!”
“Nooooooooo!”95 wailed96 Sammy.
“Mr. Li, Mr. Li, what can we do?” cried Miss Watkins.
“Nothing. Nothing.”
The sky went black.97
They crouched in the rain-drenched field and watched, looking for Sammy whenever the lightning, for a moment, lit the clouded sky. The boy grew smaller and smaller as the wind carried the dragon higher and higher, through lightning and thunder and darkness.
Wang remembered the dragon, how it had looked, its eyes gleaming, its wings beating the air, its fiery breath burning in the wind. It was real, he thought. No! It wasn't. It wasn't! It was a kite, only a kite. He shivered in the darkness, thinking.
“Remember Benjamin Franklin?” Jennifer said to him, over the roaring of the wind. “His kite was struck by lightning.”98
Thunder pealed. They waited tensely for the lightning that would follow.
Miss Watkins screamed. Jennifer his her face in her hands.
Wang looked to his grandfather.99
The old man, gazing into the sky, wore the inscrutable100 look of the “Chinaman.”101 102

1A few notes on the “mechanics” of storytelling.

Craig helped me with some good ideas: especially, he recommended Wang be Chinese—I was going to make him a black kid (with a different name, of course). Also, he suggested including references with respect to ancestors and cultural heritage. (Embarrassed I'd intended the main character to be African American when Asian is a far better choice, but, hey, Edgar Allan Poe's raven started out as a parrot.)
2 Chose words carefully to effect a desired affect—in this case, the focused attention on “the children” serves to spotlight the protagonist, Wang. That he is described as standing “awkwardly” with his “head down” captures the reader's interest: Why it is wondered. Also, the difference of his race is mentioned immediately. (We begin to feel sympathetic toward Wang. Our sympathy is reinforced because of Wang's having lost his parents—due to the fact that they are unnecessary to the story.
3The teacher is characterized by her “teacherly” way of speaking. She also provides a bit of exposition (background information).
4This request provides an opportunity for more exposition
5Originally, the grandfather was Wang's father, as only his mother had died. I changed the story because neither parent was necessary to the narrative and because the greater age difference between Wang and Mr. Li better suggests the Chinese history and culture integral to the story's background and theme.
6This fact is mentioned early for obvious reasons. Only those details pertinent to the story are mentioned. The narrative form is economical.
7This “action” word shows that this character has been waiting, with eagerness, for just such an opportunity as the one Miss Watkins's invitation provides.
8When Miss Watkins ignores the hand, we wonder why—a hint of the tension and conflict to follow.
9This sentence contains unusual modifiers. It will stick in the reader's mind, which it should, because, later, it identifies the boy with the dragon. In this way, it foreshadows the story's ending.
10This is an alliterative phrase and sticks in the mind. It should, because Sammy's weight problem is the cause of his “inferiority complex” and of his bullying.
11The phrase “the primness a practiced form of sarcasm” characterizes Sammy.
12The incongruity between her innocent look and his question shows his hypocrisy.
13This statement is a clear declaration of Miss Watkins's feelings, but this technique should not be done too often.
14Sammy's action characterizes him as arrogant and evasive.
15This statement could identify a motivation additional to Sammy's feelings of inferiority: perhaps he follows the example of behavior set by his father.
16Miss Watkins has a sense of humor. Her rejoinder to Sammy characterizes her as “witty” and makes her appealing to the reader.
17This phrase denotes the effect of Sammy's bullying of others.
18Seldom tell readers about characters; let their dialogue speak for them. Tell by showing.
19This phrase suggests the conflict between Wang and Sammy.
20The clause and phrase indicate conflict; Miss Watkins is struggling to retain her composure.
21Jennifer is introduced as a tolerant character; she is courageous.
22Skip four lines to indicate a time lapse and a shift of scene. Scene 2 starts here.
23When not of central importance to the story, setting can often be delineated in a single sentence, or in a few sentences.
24“Rice cake” helps to establish a Chinese “mood.”
25Each scene must contribute something essential to the story. The first scene of this story introduces the hero, or protagonist, and the villain, or antagonist as well as two supporting characters; presented conflict and the villain's motivation; and the setting, suggested by the one-room schoolhouse, indicates the story is set in the country. Build scenes by “feeding” in details, one (or a few) at a time, in an ordered, structured way.
26These sentences describe and characterize Mr. Li.
27The wrinkles indicate that Mr. Li smiles often, thus further characterizing. Since the wrinkles are at the corners of his eyes (where, on his own face, Sammy's forefingers were, when he elongated and narrowed his eyes to mock Wang, contrast sharply with Sammy's eyes, which, symbolically, suggest the soul, since it is said “the eyes are the mirrors of the soul.”
28Carry over words in dialogue to create continuity and flow.
29This phrase ties in with the earlier statement regarding heritage.
30His advice to his grandson show Mr. Li's love for Wang and characterize Mr Li as a philosophical individual.
31Wang's words demonstrate his sensitive nature and his concern about others' feelings. They also demonstrate his love for his grandfather.
32The earlier reference to Wang's birthday is a plant that anticipates the gift of the dragon as his birthday present and suggests the story is a bildungsroman, or coming-of-age story.
33This phrase emphasizes their relationship.
34Because of its importance to the story, the kite, when it is introduced, is described in terms of “colorful language.”
35This paragraph foreshadows the later transformation of the kite into a real dragon.
36Further foreshadowing.
37Additional foreshadowing
38So begins scene 3.
39Sammy's absence shows what the children's environment without him is like, thereby commenting, indirect;y, on his bullying and its effects on his peers.
40Wang is forming friendships with his classmates.
41The last sentence of this paragraph suggests a relationship of friendship is developing between Wang and Jennifer.
42“Now” transitions from the past to the present.
43Wang hopes to form friendships with his classmates. He also hopes Jennifer will win the contest, which is why he's willing to give up his birthday present.
Time references not only provide transitions but also keep the reader aware of the story's “movement.”
44Scene 4 mentions the kite contest and develops Jennifer and Wang's relationship.
45The word “finally” suggests Wang's eagerness for the topic of the kite contest to be introduced to his classmates.
46The underlined phrases foreshadow incidents at the end of the story.
47This description of the manner of Mr. Li's bow further characterizes him.
48This phrase foreshadows the choice that Sammy makes at the end of the story and suggests that Sammy's fate is determined by his choice, or the free exercise of his own will.
49Miss Watkins' words suggest there may be more to Mr. Li than meets the eye.
50Kite Day is the story of Wang and his grandfather's lives.
51“Old books” suggests the antiquity of the lore associated with the holiday.
52This qualification excludes Sammy.
53Mr. Li contrasts relative truths with absolute truth, a point of view that Miss Watkins may not understand.
54Mr. Li suggests the contrast between knowledge born of experience and the innocence that attends ignorance.
55This question foreshadows the incident at the end of the story.
56Some suggest that a new scene should begin with exposition or narration if it follows a scene that ended with dialogue. Scene 4 sets up future action and foreshadows the incidents at the end of the story.
57The description of the children attempting to launch their kites in a “open field” sets a new scene, scene 5.
58Miss Watkins' reference to Sammy keeps the absent antagonist “on stage.”
59This paragraph suggests Mr. Li's skill in making kites and emphasizes free choice. It also symbolizes multiculturalism, which affords room, so to speak, for all while encouraging the expression of each person's cultural heritage and values.
60Scene 6 further foreshadows the incidents to come and it shows that, for Miss Watkins, all is “black or white.”
61Previously, in Sammy's absence, the tone was lighthearted; now, with his return, the tone is somber. Sammy's return also renews the conflict between him and Wang.
62Again, Jennifer shows herself to be courageous and supportive.
63In attacking a girl, Sammy
64The conflict between Wang and Sammy, which now also involves conflict between Jennifer and Sammy, continues.
65Sammy is further characterized, this time through another character's dialogue.
66Other classmates openly support Wang and Jennifer.
67Jennifer's and Wang's actions have turned the tide (but conflict with Sammy is bound to soon explode).
68Jennifer's comment reminds us of Sammy's bullying.
69Scene 6 intensifies the conflict to the point that, in the final scene, scene 8, some sort of resolution is inevitable.
70So begins scene 7. The cool temperature, wind, and overcast sky foreshadow the coming storm so its appearance doesn't seem contrived.
71Kite-flying weather, of course. Also, “blustery” could be a reference to Sammy's braggadocio.
72The kite is usually referred to as “the dragon” to underscore the idea that it could be this mythological monster rather than simply a kite. Such an allusion prepares the story's ending.
73Referring to the grandfather as “Mr. Li” indicates the story's omniscient narrator is “speaking.”
74The story has a tra-la-la, controlled undertone, which will more dramatically develop the climax due to its contrast with the story's violent ending.
75“Make it fly” may recall Mr. Li's earlier qualification that kites carry evil away from “he who is its flier, if he be of a good heart.” Wang is of such a heart, but Sammy is not.
76These adjectives may recall Sammy's “insistent hand” on the first day Wang attended school.
77The reference to the banshee, whose voice is heard only when a person's death is imminent, foreshadows the story's ending.
78Wang's fearful personification of “the dragon” foreshadows scene 7, in which Wang also flies the kite, It is obvious, too, that the kite represents Wang's human adversary, Sammy.
79Mr. Li's reassurance is another hint that there is more to the grandfather than meets the eye.
80So begins the final scene, scene 8.
81This compound adjective can denote cold, but it also can connote fear.
82The rain is not unexpected; Mr. Li knows it is predicted. His statement that, by then, “the contest will have ended” suggests he is using the weather as a tool for his own purposes. Again, there seems more to Mr. Li than meets the eye.
83Such as the kite contest.
84Miss Watkins seems unaware of the depth of Mr. Li's character, but her remark could be seen as a sort of justification for Mr. Li's actions. If not, it at least implies the question as to when, in dealing with an antisocial personality, enough is enough.
85Sammy is again depicted as devious: he is hiding as he spies on his classmates.
86The behavior of the classmates contrasts sharply with that of Sammy.
87Sammy's main problem is that he hates himself; he projects his own self-hatred onto his classmates.
88Mr. Li and Wang are also gentle—or, in Mr. Li's case, he seems to be.
89The moment of judgment is at hand.
90Miss Watkins not only exhibits her concern for the students, but her admonition clears the stage of unneeded “extras.”
91The action verb suggests anxiety.
92Sammy sees “the dragon” only for what it appears to be, a kite.
93“Pride goeth before a fall.”
94The weather is beyond the control of human beings.
95Were he to let go of the kite line at this point, it's unlikely he would have been seriously injured, but he stubbornly clings to the kite, unable or unwilling to trust Miss Watkins' advice.
96“Wailed” recalls the banshee wind, foreshadowing Sammy's possible demise.
97Having made his last choice in refusing to follow Miss Watkins' advice, Sammy now despairs as judgment descends upon him.
98Franklin's experience, Mr. Li's earlier reference to it, and Jennifer's recalling of the incident now, like the lightning of the storm itself, foreshadow the catastrophe soon to befall Sammy.
99Wang patterns himself after his grandfather, to whom he looks for guidance.
100Why “inscrutable”? Readers are left to wonder.
101The quotation marks indicate that this is the stereotypical way racists regard Mr. Li. He is seen, at the story's end, from the perspective of those who hate, persecute, and perhaps fear, him.
102As Edgar Allan Poe points out in “The Philosophy of Composition,” it is vital to know how a story will end even before beginning to write it. By knowing its ending in advance, every word, image, figure of speech, line of dialogue, character, and scene can lead up to the denouement or the catastrophe and the writer can achieve a “unified, single effect.”

Paranormal vs. Supernatural: What’s the Diff?

Copyright 2009 by Gary L. Pullman

Sometimes, in demonstrating how to brainstorm about an essay topic, selecting horror movies, I ask students to name the titles of as many such movies as spring to mind (seldom a difficult feat for them, as the genre remains quite popular among young adults). Then, I ask them to identify the monster, or threat--the antagonist, to use the proper terminology--that appears in each of the films they have named. Again, this is usually a quick and easy task. Finally, I ask them to group the films’ adversaries into one of three possible categories: natural, paranormal, or supernatural. This is where the fun begins.

It’s a simple enough matter, usually, to identify the threats which fall under the “natural” label, especially after I supply my students with the scientific definition of “nature”: everything that exists as either matter or energy (which are, of course, the same thing, in different forms--in other words, the universe itself. The supernatural is anything which falls outside, or is beyond, the universe: God, angels, demons, and the like, if they exist. Mad scientists, mutant cannibals (and just plain cannibals), serial killers, and such are examples of natural threats. So far, so simple.

What about borderline creatures, though? Are vampires, werewolves, and zombies, for example, natural or supernatural? And what about Freddy Krueger? In fact, what does the word “paranormal” mean, anyway? If the universe is nature and anything outside or beyond the universe is supernatural, where does the paranormal fit into the scheme of things?

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the word “paranormal,” formed of the prefix “para,” meaning alongside, and “normal,” meaning “conforming to common standards, usual,” was coined in 1920. The American Heritage Dictionary defines “paranormal” to mean “beyond the range of normal experience or scientific explanation.” In other words, the paranormal is not supernatural--it is not outside or beyond the universe; it is natural, but, at the present, at least, inexplicable, which is to say that science cannot yet explain its nature. The same dictionary offers, as examples of paranormal phenomena, telepathy and “a medium’s paranormal powers.”

Wikipedia offers a few other examples of such phenomena or of paranormal sciences, including the percentages of the American population which, according to a Gallup poll, believes in each phenomenon, shown here in parentheses: psychic or spiritual healing (54), extrasensory perception (ESP) (50), ghosts (42), demons (41), extraterrestrials (33), clairvoyance and prophecy (32), communication with the dead (28), astrology (28), witchcraft (26), reincarnation (25), and channeling (15); 36 percent believe in telepathy.

As can be seen from this list, which includes demons, ghosts, and witches along with psychics and extraterrestrials, there is a confusion as to which phenomena and which individuals belong to the paranormal and which belong to the supernatural categories. This confusion, I believe, results from the scientism of our age, which makes it fashionable for people who fancy themselves intelligent and educated to dismiss whatever cannot be explained scientifically or, if such phenomena cannot be entirely rejected, to classify them as as-yet inexplicable natural phenomena. That way, the existence of a supernatural realm need not be admitted or even entertained. Scientists tend to be materialists, believing that the real consists only of the twofold unity of matter and energy, not dualists who believe that there is both the material (matter and energy) and the spiritual, or supernatural. If so, everything that was once regarded as having been supernatural will be regarded (if it cannot be dismissed) as paranormal and, maybe, if and when it is explained by science, as natural. Indeed, Sigmund Freud sought to explain even God as but a natural--and in Freud’s opinion, an obsolete--phenomenon.

Meanwhile, among skeptics, there is an ongoing campaign to eliminate the paranormal by explaining them as products of ignorance, misunderstanding, or deceit. Ridicule is also a tactic that skeptics sometimes employ in this campaign. For example, The Skeptics’ Dictionary contends that the perception of some “events” as being of a paranormal nature may be attributed to “ignorance or magical thinking.” The dictionary is equally suspicious of each individual phenomenon or “paranormal science” as well. Concerning psychics’ alleged ability to discern future events, for example, The Skeptic’s Dictionary quotes Jay Leno (“How come you never see a headline like 'Psychic Wins Lottery'?”), following with a number of similar observations:

Psychics don't rely on psychics to warn them of impending disasters. Psychics don't predict their own deaths or diseases. They go to the dentist like the rest of us. They're as surprised and disturbed as the rest of us when they have to call a plumber or an electrician to fix some defect at home. Their planes are delayed without their being able to anticipate the delays. If they want to know something about Abraham Lincoln, they go to the library; they don't try to talk to Abe's spirit. In short, psychics live by the known laws of nature except when they are playing the psychic game with people.
In An Encyclopedia of Claims, Frauds, and Hoaxes of the Occult and Supernatural, James Randi, a magician who exercises a skeptical attitude toward all things alleged to be paranormal or supernatural, takes issue with the notion of such phenomena as well, often employing the same arguments and rhetorical strategies as The Skeptic’s Dictionary.

In short, the difference between the paranormal and the supernatural lies in whether one is a materialist, believing in only the existence of matter and energy, or a dualist, believing in the existence of both matter and energy and spirit. If one maintains a belief in the reality of the spiritual, he or she will classify such entities as angels, demons, ghosts, gods, vampires, and other threats of a spiritual nature as supernatural, rather than paranormal, phenomena. He or she may also include witches (because, although they are human, they are empowered by the devil, who is himself a supernatural entity) and other natural threats that are energized, so to speak, by a power that transcends nature and is, as such, outside or beyond the universe. Otherwise, one is likely to reject the supernatural as a category altogether, identifying every inexplicable phenomenon as paranormal, whether it is dark matter or a teenage werewolf. Indeed, some scientists dedicate at least part of their time to debunking allegedly paranormal phenomena, explaining what natural conditions or processes may explain them, as the author of The Serpent and the Rainbow explains the creation of zombies by voodoo priests.

Based upon my recent reading of Tzvetan Todorov's The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to the Fantastic, I add the following addendum to this essay.

According to Todorov:

The fantastic. . . lasts only as long as a certain hesitation [in deciding] whether or not what they [the reader and the protagonist] perceive derives from "reality" as it exists in the common opinion. . . . If he [the reader] decides that the laws of reality remain intact and permit an explanation of the phenomena described, we can say that the work belongs to the another genre [than the fantastic]: the uncanny. If, on the contrary, he decides that new laws of nature must be entertained to account for the phenomena, we enter the genre of the marvelous (The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to a Literary Genre, 41).
Todorov further differentiates these two categories by characterizing the uncanny as “the supernatural explained” and the marvelous as “the supernatural accepted” (41-42).

Interestingly, the prejudice against even the possibility of the supernatural’s existence which is implicit in the designation of natural versus paranormal phenomena, which excludes any consideration of the supernatural, suggests that there are no marvelous phenomena; instead, there can be only the uncanny. Consequently, for those who subscribe to this view, the fantastic itself no longer exists in this scheme, for the fantastic depends, as Todorov points out, upon the tension of indecision concerning to which category an incident belongs, the natural or the supernatural. The paranormal is understood, by those who posit it, in lieu of the supernatural, as the natural as yet unexplained.

And now, back to a fate worse than death: grading students’ papers.

My Cup of Blood

Anyone who becomes an aficionado of anything tends, eventually, to develop criteria for elements or features of the person, place, or thing of whom or which he or she has become enamored. Horror fiction--admittedly not everyone’s cuppa blood--is no different (okay, maybe it’s a little different): it, too, appeals to different fans, each for reasons of his or her own. Of course, in general, book reviews, the flyleaves of novels, and movie trailers suggest what many, maybe even most, readers of a particular type of fiction enjoy, but, right here, right now, I’m talking more specifically--one might say, even more eccentrically. In other words, I’m talking what I happen to like, without assuming (assuming makes an “ass” of “u” and “me”) that you also like the same. It’s entirely possible that you will; on the other hand, it’s entirely likely that you won’t.

Anyway, this is what I happen to like in horror fiction:

Small-town settings in which I get to know the townspeople, both the good, the bad, and the ugly. For this reason alone, I’m a sucker for most of Stephen King’s novels. Most of them, from 'Salem's Lot to Under the Dome, are set in small towns that are peopled by the good, the bad, and the ugly. Part of the appeal here, granted, is the sense of community that such settings entail.

Isolated settings, such as caves, desert wastelands, islands, mountaintops, space, swamps, where characters are cut off from civilization and culture and must survive and thrive or die on their own, without assistance, by their wits and other personal resources. Many are the examples of such novels and screenplays, but Alien, The Shining, The Descent, Desperation, and The Island of Dr. Moreau, are some of the ones that come readily to mind.

Total institutions as settings. Camps, hospitals, military installations, nursing homes, prisons, resorts, spaceships, and other worlds unto themselves are examples of such settings, and Sleepaway Camp, Coma, The Green Mile, and Aliens are some of the novels or films that take place in such settings.

Anecdotal scenes--in other words, short scenes that showcase a character--usually, an unusual, even eccentric, character. Both Dean Koontz and the dynamic duo, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, excel at this, so I keep reading their series (although Koontz’s canine companions frequently--indeed, almost always--annoy, as does his relentless optimism).

Atmosphere, mood, and tone. Here, King is king, but so is Bentley Little. In the use of description to terrorize and horrify, both are masters of the craft.

A bit of erotica (okay, okay, sex--are you satisfied?), often of the unusual variety. Sex sells, and, yes, sex whets my reader’s appetite. Bentley Little is the go-to guy for this spicy ingredient, although Koontz has done a bit of seasoning with this spice, too, in such novels as Lightning and Demon Seed (and, some say, Hung).

Believable characters. Stephen King, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, and Dan Simmons are great at creating characters that stick to readers’ ribs.

Innovation. Bram Stoker demonstrates it, especially in his short story “Dracula’s Guest,” as does H. P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, Shirley Jackson, and a host of other, mostly classical, horror novelists and short story writers. For an example, check out my post on Stoker’s story, which is a real stoker, to be sure. Stephen King shows innovation, too, in ‘Salem’s Lot, The Shining, It, and other novels. One might even argue that Dean Koontz’s something-for-everyone, cross-genre writing is innovative; he seems to have been one of the first, if not the first, to pen such tales.

Technique. Check out Frank Peretti’s use of maps and his allusions to the senses in Monster; my post on this very topic is worth a look, if I do say so myself, which, of course, I do. Opening chapters that accomplish a multitude of narrative purposes (not usually all at once, but successively) are attractive, too, and Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child are as good as anyone, and better than many, at this art.

A connective universe--a mythos, if you will, such as both H. P. Lovecraft and Stephen King, and, to a lesser extent, Dean Koontz, Bentley Little, and even Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child have created through the use of recurring settings, characters, themes, and other elements of fiction.

A lack of pretentiousness. Dean Koontz has it, as do Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, Bentley Little, and (to some extent, although he has become condescending and self-indulgent of late, Stephen King); unfortunately, both Dan Simmons and Robert McCammon have become too self-important in their later works, Simmons almost to the point of becoming unreadable. Come on, people, you’re writing about monsters--you should be humble.

Longevity. Writers who have been around for a while usually get better, Stephen King, Dan Simmons, and Robert McCammon excepted.

Pacing. Neither too fast nor too slow. Dean Koontz is good, maybe the best, here, of contemporary horror writers.


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