Excerpts from The Elements of Storytelling by Peter Rubie
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Table of Contents
Part One Techniques of storytelling
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Part Two Notes on storytelling
Part Three APPENDIXES Appendix A Appendix B |
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| On Writing Fiction "In a mood of hope and faith my work goes on. a ream of fresh paper lies on my desk waiting for the next book. I am a writer and I take up my pen to write." -- Pearl S. Buck
So don't expect to make a living writing fiction, at least for the early part of your career, anyway: most novelists have to work at something else, too. But that means you are free to take as long as you need on a project, and won't have to write to a deadline that will force you to compromise on the quality of your work. Talk to experienced, published writers, and you'll discover they all learned to write fiction basically the same way: They read a lot, and then wrote a lot of fiction, some of it excruciatingly bad, gradually improving as they figured out what they were doing wrong. If they were lucky, they got some helpful pointers from established writers or editors along the way.
Some guides into unknown territory are better than others, and some guides have more sympathy than others for the tribulations of a neophyte venturing into the unknown. But in the end, the quality of a writer's work is a reflection of an individual's philosophies about craft, study and creativity. Some well-known writers are disdainful of anyone being able to teach creative writing in a meaningful way. They fear that what is being taught is mechanical "factory fiction" rather than worthwhile art that reflects the human condition in an entertaining way. In my view, this is a disingenuous attitude, because books or classes in creative writing can only point the way. There is no magic formula, and the ambitious but uninspired writer who searches for it will never succeed. Studying writing through analysis, or, more accurately diagnosis, is not a justification for encouraging or perpetuating mediocrity.
Great storytelling skills, that is, powerful dramatization, elegant style, and good story sense are almost impossible to teach. One can teach only the opposite, that is, what a student shouldn't do, and hope that by inference and an eventual mastery of technique, the student will learn what should be done. a teacher can also expose the student to the best examples of storytelling, and by pointing out why, in the teacher's opinion, these are the best examples hope that continued exposure to quality material will eventually have a positive effect. What you read will determine the kind of writer you become. Because a writer is on the bestseller lists, it doesn't necessarily mean that in terms of craft his or her work is worth emulating. What is unique and marketable about an established writer who successfully "breaks all the rules" will not work for a carbon copy writer trying to duplicate this success. Writers can't count on the blessings of fate, they can only hope for them. So this is not a book about "making it" or becoming successful in the marketplace, because no one has any control over such things. The only sure path to publishing success is to master the craft of fiction and produce work that has merit and depth.
There are rules to writing fiction -- at least, when you start. These rules are really only guidelines, of course, but they warn writers about the kinds of poor craftsmanship that can get them into trouble. Fiction writers need to learn what makes strong characterization, and why plotting ahead of time is so important; they need to understand the difference between suspenseful writing and coy and obtuse writing that will just irritate readers. This book on basics, and working with writing teachers, will give you an insight into what you should do, but in the end it is a writer's determination to understand and intellect to perceive that will determine if you will become a successful professional storyteller. Pablo Casals, the world famous cellist, once badly injured a hand in a mountain climbing expedition, and when told he might never play again, said, "Thank God. at last I'm free." Two years later, he was again giving concerts and playing better than ever. Creative expression is an addiction beyond the creator's control, except in terms of how well we learn our craft. Writers write because they have to, not because they want to.
The question the tyro writer is faced with, then, is: What should I write? Stories don't just entertain, though that is what they should do first and foremost. They reflect and interpret the world around us and make us aware of hypocrisy and paradox. They stir up emotions, and bring structure, order, and art to everyday chaos and randomness. a good story creates enlightenment out of pain and bewilderment. Storytelling is very possibly the earliest art form prehistoric Man practiced. adventures of the hunt, deeds of bravery, incidents that thrilled and stirred an audience, stories that grandmothers told granddaughters, that shamen and priestesses told their acolytes -- all passed along vital information needed for a clan's survival and growth. With each generation the information developed and became more formal, until, at a time when writing was still nonexistent or rudimentary, stories codified knowledge and laid down acceptable standards of behavior. One reason the Don Juan tales of Carlos Casteneda have remained so popular since they first appeared in the early 1970s is that they are faint echoes of this oral tradition that resonate in our cultural consciousness. Here, the author straddles fact and fiction, making himself a character in his tales about a Mexican Indian shaman, Don Juan, who is passing along centuries-old knowledge through a series of offbeat lessons for the author. The real truths in these stories are not whether the incidents portrayed happened, but what the stories have to say about the human condition and our relationship to the world around us. another example is anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles, featuring the oral history of the vampire mythology created by Rice. This oral story telling tradition is also often a feature of a certain type of women's fiction, such as Laura Esquivel's Like Water for Chocolate, or amy Tan's The Joy Luck Club. Despite thousands of years of development and diversity of form, stories still perform essentially the same functions: They define our cultural identity; they deal with common fears and moral values; and they help us face up to and cope with death, loss and other trauma.
Myths, legends, and fairy stories have endured because of their universality and have become the basis of many hundreds of stories. David and Goliath or Cinderella may today differ in relevance from the original intent of their authors, but they are profound enough to be invested with new meaning and thus continued validity for each generation that hears or reads them. Such stories are archetypes. David and Goliath, for example, which is about the lone underdog triumphing against overwhelming odds, clearly becomes the basis for a great deal of the mythology of the american western frontier. Shane by Jack Schaeffer or Hombre by Elmore Leonard are just two example of many. Stories involving sports heroes are also in this vein more often than not. Rossini composed an opera about Cinderella, Julie andrews played her in a Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, Jerry Lewis played a male version in a movie. By some counts, there are over 2,000 versions of the story in a variety of differing cultures and languages, from Native american Indian to Japanese. For some the story is about a poor person making good and thus has relevance to the problems of minorities within society; for others, because of its theme of the need for a woman to marry to rise in society it becomes a platform to discuss contemporary women's issues. In many ways, Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens fits the Cinderella archetype. The same is true of The Sound of Music, Fielding's Tom Jones (a male Cinderella), and the myth of Pygmalion, which became, via a play by George Bernard Shaw, My Fair Lady. Nearly all time travel stories owe some debt to Washington Irving's Rip Van Winkle, from Nathaniel Hawthorne's Wakefield to Jack Finney's Time and again. Orpheus is an archetypal story of an epic descent into Hell that has formed the basis for Dante's Inferno, Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, Milton's Paradise Lost, Shakespeare's King Lear, Lewis Carol's alice in Wonderland, on up to Michael Crichton's best selling Jurassic Park. Certain tales wax and wane in popularity, reflecting the changing morals and ethics of generations. On one level, the best stories function as part of a societal collective dream, in which important current "information" (for example, about violence in the home or among the young, or the ethical dilemmas of abortion) is processed in creative and sometimes magical ways to enhance both our understanding of the problem and its possible solutions. Charles Dickens makes his readers believe that the miser Scrooge in a Christmas Carol can, in one night, change from bitterness and malevolence to joy and compassion. In real life, such things don't happen, do they? But through the strength of great storytelling we can, for a moment, believe that they do, and in the flowering of such a belief we discover an optimism that the "bad" among us can indeed be reformed if only the right set of circumstances prevail.
The good storyteller will show us that beyond simple heroes and villains outwitting each other, the real story can be about one man's single minded attempt to find meaning for himself and vindicate his beliefs. Yet at the same time that he enriches human knowledge he can also exact a terrible human suffering. The main character of such a story, who is left to ponder the awful price that he and others must pay because of his actions as he balances intent against results, is far more interesting and important to us. He is a far more memorable creation than a character to whom we can simplistically ascribe blame or draw a fleeting sense of satisfaction for retribution delivered. It is your job as a storyteller not to awaken readers from the fictional dream you are spinning while you tell your tale. This is more than a mundane suspension of disbelief; like Alice falling through the Looking Glass, when we pick up a story and start to read we quickly find ourselves in another world, populated by people who become our friends or guides to new experiences that amplify or explain the world around us. Like the children of Hamlin Town, we are enticed by characters who lead us we know not where, forgetful of all but the piper's music, seeing the real world suddenly afresh when the end is reached and the music finally fades to an echo. Beware a reader's wrath if you should rudely awaken him from this fictional "dream world" through clumsy technique or poor story telling. The spell will be broken, and perhaps the reader will never again pick up one of your books. Great stories, like great art, serve as a sort of societal conscience, and are about the trials and triumphs of the human spirit. Successfully creating such stories is achieved among other things, by honesty of vision, solid craft, and graceful prose. One of the best descriptions of what makes a great short story was given by Stephen Vincent Benét (who wrote The Devil and Daniel Webster): "Something that can be read in an hour and remembered for a lifetime." With a little adaptation for the time taken to read the story, it applies equally to great novels.
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INTRODUCTION
THE ELEMENTS OF STORYTELLING FOR WRITERS aims to give fiction writers the basic tools needed to write a story, and a map to help them avoid the obstacles that lie in the path of the unwary storyteller. It differs from other writing books by offering a holistic approach to storytelling. By holistic, I mean a continual emphasis on the overview of your work. While it's necessary to teach storytelling as a series of related topics, it's important for the student to keep in mind that these components are both interconnected and interdependent.
Stories, in essence, are about what characters do next, and why. The art of the storyteller is figuring out a story; the craft of the storyteller is working out the best way to tell that story. Storytelling is essentially simple, though this simplicity is, paradoxically, difficult to master: You come up with a plot, and then invent dynamic characters who move through that plot, weaving the story from the conflicts and dramas of their lives. If writers aren't careful, by focusing on one component of fiction at the expense of another (e.g., dialogue over description), they can end up thinking about storytelling as though they are one of the blind men who examined the elephant, one feeling the tail, another the trunk, a third the leg, all claiming the elephant to be something other than it is. The components of fiction, such as dialogue, voice, description and so on, are dictated by and stem from two basic elements: plot and character.
Many writers have very unrealistic expectations of what will happen after they achieve their goal of getting into print for the first time, so it's worthwhile asking: "How do I imagine my life will change once my story is published?" Money? Well, you'll get some compensation certainly, but unless you're very lucky you won't make enough money writing fiction to do it exclusively, at least at first anyway, so you'll more than likely have to do something else to pay the bills. Fame? Andy Warhol reckoned everybody gets fifteen minutes of fame, and I sincerely hope you get yours, but few of us become brand names like Stephen King, Mary Higgins Clark, or Louis L'Amour. While there are some 50,000 books published annually in the United States alone, this figure is shrinking, and it's not getting any easier for first novelists to get their fiction published. It's not even certain that having been published once you will be published again, because each piece is judged on its own merits, and some writers only have one book in them.
The concept of "talent" is vague and much abused. Either God's Hand has touched you or it hasn't; but whatever blessing you were born with is only a seed. To bloom, it needs the careful nurturing of sweat, dedication, and intelligence. I have known lots of talented people who never amounted to much because they weren't prepared to apply themselves. at first, it was all "too easy" and their "gift" never meant that much to them, but once they realized that to survive in the arts they'd have to do the same sustained hard work as all those other "less talented" people, most gave up. Talent, in large part, can be defined as the speed it takes someone to learn something. The faster you absorb information the more talented you probably are. Talent also involves the ability to imaginatively use that acquired knowledge. It has very litle to do with how old you are. The greater your native talent, however, the greater your responsibility not to waste it. Whether or not you have a talent for writing is something only you can decide for yourself. The mere desire to write has no more worth or meaning than the desire to be rich, healthy, and happy. Writing (or playing music, or learning to be a gymnast or whatever your calling happens to be) is a compulsion. a published writer friend of mine once told me only half in jest, "If I ever find the bitch who made me like this I'll kill her." I know exactly how she feels. Most writers hate the act of writing, but can't stop themselves from doing it.
One thing is sure: If you practice writing long enough, and learn your craft well enough, you will eventually get published. When that finally happens you feel an overwhelming pride in your achievement, and realize that all those years of study, rejection, hard work, and belief in yourself (often in the face of bitter discouragement) have been vindicated, and that the work is ultimately its own reward. In the beginning, writers of fiction look for rules about what they should and shouldn't do. That's probably one reason you bought this book. Eventually, what you learn is that there are no rules except the ones you make up. after all, art created to prescribed, rigid rules quickly ceases to be art and becomes propaganda. The very nature of art is inventiveness. There are, however, some general principles you should learn that will point you in the right direction. If the mechanics or techniques of writing can be compared to carpentry, then storytelling is like cabinetmaking. anyone can learn to join a few pieces of wood, but not everyone can turn out a Chippendale chair or a Stradivarius violin.
If you keep writing and submitting material and you're still not yet published, then you're probably doing something wrong. However obtuse you think editors are when they reject your brilliant piece, they aren't rejecting you out of meanness. There is nothing more satisfying for an editor than finding a manuscript that's well presented, well written, and well thought out. Because of my experiences as an agent, editor and a writer I know all about rejection and the emotional turbulence that can sometimes accompany the author/editor, author/agent relationship. There is nothing more humbling or difficult to deal with than the fact that someone thinks what you wrote isn't up to scratch. Sometimes they're wrong and just don't "get it," but that doesn't happen often. It's a brutal fact to face, but if something you've written is consistently rejected more than likely it's because it just isn't good enough. Most of the material I reject as an agent is for exactly that reason. If that fact is true -- and 99 times out of 100 it is -- therein also lies your salvation, because the solution is in your own hands. Think things through more carefully, obey the rules you either did not know or thought you could ignore, and do the piece again. Here are two rules of thumb to start you off. Post them where you can see them whenever you sit down to write. 1. Keep It Simple; and, 2. If I'm still unpublished, I'm not yet the best judge of my work. Go back to basics. The Basics is what this book is all about. |
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NOTES TO HELP CREATE CHARACTERS CHARACTER NOTES: Date: NAME: JOB: PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: HEIGHT: WEIGHT: HAIR (STYLE AND COLOUR): EYES: VOICE: SCARS and HANDICAPS: [PHYSICAL] : [EMOTIONAL]: SORT OF HOME LIVED IN (FEEL OF IT): AGE: BORN: KEY DATES IN CHARACTER'S LIFE: BACKGROUND BIRTHPLACE: BIRTHDAY [STAR SIGN]: FAVOURITE COLOUR: CHARACTER'S AURA(?) ANIMAL OR OBJECT?: PARENTS: BROTHERS AND SISTERS: MARRIED/SINGLE: CHILDREN: EARLIEST, MOST IMPORTANT INFLUENCES: EDUCATION SCHOOL: COLLEGE: UNIVERSITY: OTHER: WORK EXPERIENCE FIRST JOB: OTHERS: PRESENT JOB: OTHER NOTES PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE: AMBITIONS: FANTASIES/DAYDREAMS: CLOSEST FRIEND(S): ACQUAINTANCES: ENEMIES: AFRAID OF: PSYCH. PROFILE SEES SELF AS: IS SEEN AS: BEST CHARACTER TRAITS: WORST CHARACTER TRAITS: MOST IMPORTANT THING TO KNOW ABOUT CHARACTER: DESCRIPTIVE WORD OR PHRASE ON SEEING CHARACTER FOR FIRST TIME: HOW DOES CHARACTER REACT TO PEER VIEWS: HOW FAR WILL CHARACTER GO TO GET WHAT THEY WANT: PROBLEMS AT STORY'S BEGINNING: PRESENT PROBLEM: HOW WILL IT GET WORSE: BIO |
There is a common misconception that writing is putting down words on paper. It's not. Writing is editing -- or shaping -- those words into scenes and images and layers and symbols, making sure each word, be it an "and" or a "but" carries its own weight. Many a good story has been marred beyond the possibility of recovery by weak story telling, and for first time novelists in particular this can prove the difference between being published and being rejected. However, a command of good craft can take a more mundane story and go a long way toward the finishing line of getting a book contract. Here then are the main things you should be doing to your manuscript before you send it to either an agent or an editor. Follow them religiously and there is no question that you will at least double your chances of getting published. The Self-Editing Checklist 1. Find out exactly what the requirements of a publishing house are before you submit something. If a publishing house says, for example, no manuscripts under 80,000 words and you submit a manuscript that's shorter than that it will come straight back to you, probably unread. Don't send romances, however brilliant, to horror editors or vice versa. If in doubt, a quick chat with the editorial assistant if not the editor will confirm whether or not to send the manuscript. If you wanted a plumber, and a carpenter turned up instead, not only would the carpenter be useless, it would aggravate the hell out of you. 2. The look of a manuscript is the first thing an editor or agent sees. Put him or her at ease from the start and make them anticipate the reading experience not dread it. Correct, professional presentation makes a great deal of difference when you have to read a lot of submissions. If you were selling your car, or your home, you'd clean it and paint it, and present it in the best possible light. Treat your manuscript submission the same way. Who would you rather spend time with: someone who is personable and presentable, or a self-absorbed, dishevelled bum? a. Double space your manuscript. No exceptions to this rule. b. Don't use desk top publishing fonts, just regular typewriter courier or elite. There is a reason for this. Most editors can judge word counts visually after a while, and this in turn helps in terms of doing profit and loss estimates on the cost of a book, an important consideration in its publication. Strange fonts make life difficult and the reading experience a pain in the bum. c. Use generous margins and keep the right hand side ragged; no "justified" texts. There is no such thing as truly "justified" text outside of professional typesetting, and the reading experience is, once again, made very aggravating. Margins are useful for jotting notes during the editorial process. aim for about 200-250 words a page. d. Paragraph frequently, but don't put a white space between each paragraph. White spaces have a specific function in a manuscript, usually to do with a break in point of view or a passage of time. e. Don't use CAPITAL LETTERS to emphasize, underline. f. Use a fresh ribbon. g. Use continuous page numbering, with an author name and catchall word for the book along the top header on every page. h. Leave the manuscript loose leaved, preferably in a box. i. Use only one side of the paper, not both. j. Make sure your name, address and telephone number are on the title page. k. Include an SASE if you want the manuscript back. l. Check your grammar, use your spell checker to check typos. Read what you write carefully and often even after using the spell checker. Check that it hasn't okayed words that are real but mistakes (like "cam" instead of "came", for example). Study Strunk and White. m. Don't send your only copy. Don't send a worn out version either. Editor's, like dance partners, don't like to have it rubbed in that they were your last choice, even if they know it's probably true. n. Include a brief cover letter, and synopsis of the story covering beginning, middle and end. Don't treat editors or agents like regular readers, because they're not, so don't "tease," it's aggravating. Tell them the whole story in the synopsis, because they want to see how you've structured your story. Don't get clever with the cover letter, because if you can't write a decent one page cover letter, you sure as hell can't write a 300 page novel properly. Don't start, "Here's my first draft. If you like it I'll sit down and polish it;" or "I'm blind, deaf and dumb, and just had my left leg amputated after an accident while standing in line waiting for my unemployment check. Here's my first novel, hope you like. I wrote it in hospital," or variations thereof. Only editors can handwrite messages to writers because they're so busy it's the only way to handle a personal response if you're lucky enough to get one. Don't handwrite anything. 3. Show don't tell. a common problem that is a little more sophisticated than people think, because it is about judgement. You need to figure out what to show, and what to tell. Don't ever explain or get a character to do it for you, find another way to present the information. The best rule of thumb is, try to describe as succinctly, objectively, and clearly as possible the "movie" that is running in your head, and whether a piece of plot information is important enough to merit its own scene. The difference is between: "Damn it," he said angrily. Ruth took a step backward; and, "Damn it," he said, kicking over a chair. Ruth took a step backward. 4. Start each scene as late as possible near the "meat" of the action. This will pace the book much better, make it read faster, without a loss of depth or subtlety. It will, however, force you to become more inventive and imaginative and not rely on "dead" prose. 5. Be aware of the literal meaning of what you have written. For example, "The spring sun pelted the window like marbles on glass." a nonsensical impossibility, for the sun can't pelt or have sound. Sleet, perhaps, but not the sun, or sunlight. "He picked up the newspaper and was soon absorbed in its pages." a rather nasty way to go. Or, "The policeman officiously snapped his bag shut. It all looked straightforward, clearly an open and shut case." 6. Read what you have written aloud, but be aware that narrative, particularly third person narrative, should sound different to speech. avoid "got," "nice," and "very" except in dialogue. Go on a "which" hunt and replace it with "that" wherever possible. Know the difference between "its" and "it's" and when to use them. Go on an adjective and adverb hunt. Kill them unmercifully. Strive for grace and clarity in your work. 7. Be aware of the rhythm of your language, the length of your sentences, the musical ebb and flow of words and phrases. How one sentence sits in relationship to the next, and the one after that. 8. avoid characters who whisper, roar, mumble, state, interject, fume, explode or repeat each other's names endlessly. "Said" is usually quite enough. It is an invisible word, and in some cases can be eliminated entirely. 9. Keep your point of view consistent and as limited as possible. Novels are about characters, not just plot. So don't swap povs from one paragraph to another, and in general from one character to another just to explain the story. Pick a pov, start the story with it if you possibly can, and try to stick to it throughout the novel. That way we can empathize with one character and feel their fear, joy and apprehension as they feel it. Novels are about experiencing other people's lives and problems. Bouncing around dissipates this and weakens the story's impact. By keeping the viewpoint tight we inevitably also heighten the possibilities of dramatic conflict. It bears repeating here that the reason you should do a synopsis is to figure out what the story is. With pov you're now figuring out how best to tell that story. a description of a place or person will be different if viewed through the hero's eyes or the villain's. 10. Novels are not straight lines of narrative but circles or spirals that should continually revisit old information in new ways. This is a bit more than plain foreshadowing which is also important, but is obviously related. Chekhov said, "If you pull a gun in act 1, you must fire it in act 3." Everything in a novel should have a purpose, and if possible should do "double duty." That is, a piece of information can perform one function on page 10, and then take on a different and equally important function by page 60. The British author Robert Goddard is brilliant in this regard, as too are some of the better mystery writers. all novels, in some respects, are mysteries, in the sense of what we are told, when we are told it, and how we are told it. The technical term is pacing of information. Mastering this is one of the major elements of good storytelling. Once the reader grasps that the author is writing in this spiral or circular form they also realize they can't afford to skip a word, and the novel becomes much more compelling to read as a result. 11. avoid exposition of any kind, particularly in dialogue, and long internal monologues. For example, "Oh Charles, is that you standing in the doorway with a three-fifty seven turbo charged magnum pistol with hollow pointed copper bullets?" "Yes, Amanda. and it's pointed right at you." "Oh Charles, I'm so frightened," shuddered Amanda. "So you should be, Amanda," Charles threatened, "for I intend to shoot you with it." Or, "The dead boy came from Paris," said the inspector. "It's the French capitol you know," retorted Jeffrey knowingly. "Do you know the story of Joan of ark?" asked the inspector. "Yes, but remind me," remarked Jeffrey. The reason writing a novel is so difficult is precisely because figuring out how best to solve problems of pacing of information and point of view are so hard. 12. avoid showing off, and dazzling us with your brilliant virtuosity with language. If we become aware that you, the author, is getting in the way, the novel isn't working and is probably overwritten. It's rather like someone whispering in your ear while you're trying to watch a movie. at the very least it's distracting. Don't confuse "I" the author with "I" the character in first person novels. Don't write stories in any other tense than the past unless there's a really good reason editors hate it, phrases that sound great but are literal nonsense or pretentious, or comment on the action or characters. For example, "Magdalene threw back her head in a soundless mime of laughter that had been photographed, holographed, silk screened, reproduced on dinner plates. Showing only the long column of throat. Perfectly phallic, some said. a throat that invited Dracula to fellate it." Remember, the higher calling is not the writer, but the storyteller. 13. Cut everything you can cut, put the novel aside for a week, reread it, and then cut some more. Find one powerful descriptive word or phrase to replace the two paragraphs of description (or more) you currently have. Don't repeat yourself. Say it once and move on. Trust the power of language and don't write defensively. 14. Keep it simple and direct. Make sure your work entertains you, because if it doesn't it surely won't entertain anyone else. 15. Try this exercise: Write two pages of fiction as badly as you possibly can, using every excess you think you have as a writer, and every excess you have noticed in other writers. Then study it, examine your novel, and fix it. Tack this on the wall above your word processor: Determined novelists with tenacity and stamina who learn and develop their craft will eventually get published. Editors want to publish you if they can, so learn your craft and make it easier for them. To paraphrase Clint Eastwood's "Dirty Harry" character, make their day. |
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