Bill W

Inquiry—the act of asking questions and seeking truth—is the engine of storytelling. It drives narrative momentum, transforms passive audiences into active participants, and shapes how we make sense of our lived experiences. Inquiry impacts the narrative process in a few key ways: Creates Narrative Drive: Every story is fundamentally a question waiting to be answered (e.g., Will they overcome the obstacle? What is the hidden truth?). Inquiry hooks the audience, maintaining tension from the setup to the resolution. Reveals Human Truth: In qualitative research and life narratives, inquiry uses storytelling as a method to explore lived experiences. It highlights subjective truths and emotions rather than just chronological facts. Fosters Critical Thinking: Inquiry-based storytelling shifts the audience from passive listeners to active investigators. It encourages them to evaluate prejudices, spot blind spots, and connect with evolving situations. Gives Voice to the Marginalized: Asking people to share their stories is an act of respect. Inquiry allows diverse and historically underrepresented groups to document their experiences and challenge larger societal narratives.

Inquiry stems from the Latin word inquirere, which means "to search for" or "to examine" and the Late Latin inquaerere. It is formed by combining the prefix in- ("into") and the verb quaerere ("to ask or seek"). It was carried into Old French as enquerre and adopted into English as enqueren or enquery, and over centuries of linguistic evolution, the word transformed into its current form. In the 15th and 16th centuries, writers respelled the word from enquiry to inquiry to more closely match its original Latin roots. Enquiry vs. Inquiry: Both have the same Latin roots, and while American English uses inquiry almost exclusively, British English often makes a distinction: enquiry is used for a general request for information, while inquiry is reserved for formal investigations. According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the noun "inquiry" (and its variant "enquiry") was first used in English during the Middle English period (1150-1500), with the earliest recorded evidence dating back to around 1440 in the text known as the York Mysteries.

Thank you, Lee, and I'm glad you were moved by the wedding and Daniel's little surprise. I believe that was his way of letting the boys know how special they are to him, although he only spent time with them for a week, although Clint's attachment to the boys had an influence on that as well. Yes, I think everyone is hoping that Preston's interest remains purely academic and nothing more comes of it. Yes, it is highly unlikely that they'll end up in Fort Collins or Boulder once they get a job, so chances are they won't encounter Preston again. 🫰

Awww. Sorry about that drs. It was a little surprise that Daniel had planned for the boys, and I'm glad it touched your heart. I'm sorry to hear that you thought Preston came out looking like a dork. In all fairness, I think he was trying to take advantage of the last time he might see the boys in person to see if his suspicions were correct. And if they were, he said the reason he was asking was purely academic, although it was enough to bother Michael and then Devin. ⚡

Thanks, db. I'm glad you enjoyed the wedding, and I think we're all hoping that Preston doesn't become a problem for the guys.

Unsettling elements are the lifeblood of narrative tension, forcing the audience out of passibe consumption. By disrupting expectations, unsettling moments create profound emotional engagement, heighten psychological depth, and force characters—and readers—to confront complex, uncomfortable truths about the human condition. Unsettling your audience relies on a few key storytelling pillars: Dismantling the Illusion of Safety: Stories become gripping when the audience realizes no character is safe. Disorienting the reader forces them to heavily invest in the protagonist's survival and choices. Subverting Expectations: The unsettling often lives in the "uncanny valley." By taking familiar settings or character tropes and slightly warping them, you make the audience question their own assumptions. Encouraging Reflection: Discomfort demands attention. Exploring disturbing themes (grief, moral ambiguity, societal flaws) acts as a catalyst for honest, brutal reflection on real-world realities. Building Psychological Depth: Focusing on what is unseen or implied cultivates a lingering dread that taps directly into primal emotions, far more effectively than cheap shocks.

Unsettle is a verb that means to disturb or change something from a fixed, stable state. It is formed by combining the negative prefix un- with the verb settle: Un-: An Old English prefix of negation (meaning "not" or the "reverse of"), which can be traced back to the Proto-Germanic \(*un-\) and the Proto-Indo-European (PIE) root \(\ast{}ne-\) ("not"). Settle: Derived from the Old English verb \(setlan\) (meaning "to place in a fixed position"), which comes from the Old English noun \(setl\) (meaning "a seat"). The compound word unsettle was first coined in the late 1500s to literally mean "to undo from a fixed position." By the 1640s, the meaning expanded metaphorically to refer to the unsettling of the mind or emotions. According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the noun/adjective "unsettling" was first recorded in print in 1665, used to describe something causing a change from a stable state. It is a derivative of the verb unsettle, which was first coined earlier in the late 1500s.

I think Michael and Devin have pretty much decided to stay clear of Preston for now, although they still sort of like Preston, but they don't want to take any chances. I'm sure they'll mention this to Gramps and Pops when they get a chance, but since they don't expect to see Preston again, they're not in a big rush. And if Preston brought his dogs, they'd probably never leave Devin alone and might disrupt the wedding. Yes, different Bibles interpret the original text that was written in Greek, with some Aramaic, in different ways. I have been in churches where one said it one way and the next used they other, but it all boils down to the same thing in the long run. The Presbyterian, Baptist, and the United Church of Christ/Congregationalists/Evangelicals all use debts/debtor, while Roman Catholics, Anglicans/Episcopalians, Methodists, and Lutherans all use trespasses/trespass(ers). I hope that helps.

Thanks, Chris. I know that many of you have been waiting a long time for this chapter to be posted, but I had a few other issue to clear up first. I hope everyone enjoys it, though. "Yes, Preston's comment to Michael was a bit shocking, because I think many had figured he had dropped that idea long ago, but he seems to be clinging to it again, after chatting with Clint and Daniel. It's probably a good thing that the boys won't be returning to Fort Collins, because who knows what Preston might come up with next. 🫰

Chapter 46 – The Wedding When we woke up the next morning, we went downstairs to have breakfast with our parents. “Here’s the happy couple,” Ma said as we walked into the living room. “Are you ready to tie the knot?” “Yes. It’s something we always wanted,” I replied. “And it will fulfill a dream both of us have had for a long time,’ Devin added. “I’ll go fix you two some breakfast and it will be ready in a few minutes,” Mom stated. After we finished the wond

Bravo, @Cia and @Lee Wilson! Great interview and great answers.

First of all, Steve, I appreciate a Canuck informing others, probably including US citizens, that all flags in the US are flown at half-mast on Memorial Day. I extend my thoughts, prayers. and thanks for those who made the extreme sacrifice to keep this nation free. Second, I too work jobs that were open on holidays (never on Christmas Day though) at various points in my life and the thing that bothered me the most was that I knew the family was all at the house enjoying a wonderful meal, which would be heated up for me when I got out of work, and that they were probably playing games, chatting, and having a good time.

Obscuring details in storytelling—such as holding back character motives, world-building lore, or plot origins—is vital because it creates suspense, encourages reader participation, and mirrors the complexity of real life. By purposefully leaving gaps, storytellers draw audiences in, transforming passive consumers into active investigators. Importance of obscuring in storytelling: Drives Suspense and Tension: Withholding the full picture taps into the most basic human fear: the unknown. When motivations or the exact nature of a threat are hidden, the stakes feel significantly higher. The Benefit: It forces the audience to read or watch closely, anticipating the moment the obscured truth comes to light. Boosts Reader Engagement: If a story hands over every detail upfront, it strips the audience of the joy of discovery. When writers obscure the "why" or "how," they give the audience space to connect the dots themselves. The Benefit: Audiences form a deeper emotional connection to a story when they feel clever for piecing together ambiguous hints, fragmented flashbacks, or unreliable narrators. Reflects the Human Experience: In reality, cause, effect, and the true intentions of others are rarely laid perfectly bare. People carry hidden pasts, and the consequences of actions can take time to become apparent. The Benefit: Obscuring certain elements makes a fictional world feel more grounded, rich, and unpredictable, as characters must navigate a reality without all the answers. Enhances Thematic Depth: Sometimes, a story is about a concept too complex to be stated as a simple fact—such as the nature of grief or morality. The Benefit: Obscurity can create "obscure clarity," allowing abstract messages to bypass the reader’s logical defenses and strike directly at their emotions. When used carefully, obscurity is a powerful tool to build momentum. However, to maintain audience trust, storytellers must balance hidden elements with enough foundational context so the resolution ultimately feels earned and satisfying.

The word "obscure" dates back to the early 15th century, meaning "dark" or "dim". It originates from the Old French obscur and the Latin obscurus, meaning "dark", "dim", or "concealed". The Latin term breaks down into the prefix ob- ("over") and -scurus ("covered"), ultimately tracing back to the Proto-Indo-European root (s)keu-, meaning "to cover" or "conceal". According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the earliest known use of the adjective obscured dates back to the Middle English period (1150-1500). The OED's earliest recorded evidence of the word is from around 1485, in the writings of the Scottish soldier and poet Gilbert Hay. The OED cites the verb form of obscure was first used in English in the mid-to-late 15th century with the earliest recorded evidence is a citation from before 1475 in a translation of Ralph Higden’s Polychronicon. The noun obscurity has its earliest OED citation from 1474 in a translation by William Caxton. The earliest meaning of obscured referred to something hidden or cloaked, but by the 1520s the meaning evolved to include concealing something from knowledge or observation. By the 1590s the literal physical meaning—meaning something is indistinct, hardly perceptible, or without clearness of form—began appearing regularly in literature.

Suspicion in storytelling is a powerful narrative engine. It forces readers to actively engage rather than passively consume. By introducing doubt, you shatter the "single story" and force audiences to question motives, read between the lines, and hunt for truth. The importance of suspicion in writing stories: Engaging Cognitive Process: When a narrative presents contradictions or incomplete information, the reader's brain must work to reconcile the gaps. This active participation shifts the reader from an observer to a detective, deepening their emotional and intellectual investment in the story. Creating Psychological Suspense: Suspense thrives in the gap between what a character knows and what the reader suspects. This dynamic relies heavily on two contrasting viewpoints: The Obvious Character: A character walks into a trap while the reader's suspicion—or outright knowledge—of the looming threat builds tension. The Unreliable Narrator: Forcing the audience to doubt the narrator's sanity or honesty creates a lingering sense of paranoia. This makes every sentence a clue that must be weighed against the probability of deceit. Builds Rich Character Depth: Characters who give off "untrustworthy vibes" instantly become more complex. Suspicion drives characters to test each other's boundaries, forcing them to reveal their true core values, fears, and hidden pasts when their motives are questioned. Enables Subtext and Thematic Depth: Suspicion allows a story to operate on multiple levels. It acts as a bridge between the literal plot and the underlying themes. Readers who read "against the grain" use suspicion to uncover deeper truths about the author's world, whether that involves uncovering sociopolitical critiques, hidden biases, or the inherent flaws of human memory. Ultimately, utilizing suspicion—whether through plot twists, flawed narrators, or mysterious environments—transforms a straightforward tale into an immersive, interactive puzzle that stays with the audience long after the story ends.

Suspicion" traces back to the Latin word suspicere, which means "to look up at" or "to look at from below" and gave rise to the noun suspicio, meaning mistrust, fear, or a hunch. This Latin noun transitioned into Old French as suspicion or sospeçon (the root of the Modern French soupçon). It was borrowed into English around the 13th century (first recorded in manuscripts around 1290 as suspecioun), and eventually standardized into its modern spelling by learned scribes who wanted to reflect its original Latin roots. According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the noun "suspicion" was first used in English during the late 13th century. The earliest known recorded instance in the OED dates to around 1290 in a Middle English manuscript about Saint Sebastian. The word was borrowed from the Anglo-Norman and Old French word suspecioun, which ultimately derives from the Latin suspectio. The OED also has an entry for the verb form of "suspicion" (meaning "to suspect"), but it traces that usage much later, to a translation by Nicholas Ferrar before 1637. According to the (OED), the adjective suspicious was first used in the Middle English period (1150-1500). Its earliest documented appearance dates back to 1340, where it was used in the religious and moral treatise Ayenbite of Inwyt (meaning "Remorse of Conscience").

In storytelling, revelation is the moment a hidden truth is disclosed to characters or the audience. It is vital because it drives character arc, shifts the narrative's direction, and transforms the audience's understanding , turning passive observation into an active, emotional realization. The function of revelation operates on a few key levels: Catalyzes Character Growth: Revelations—whether discovering a betrayal or a hidden destiny—force characters to react, make active choices, and change their course of action. Manages Narrative Pacing: The rate at which information is unveiled controls suspense. Spacing out revelations keeps the audience hooked and prevents the story from dragging. Provides the Core Meaning: A revelation is not just a plot twist. It is frequently the pinpointable scene where the protagonist—and the viewer—realize a larger thematic truth, giving the entire story its emotional impact. Understanding how to build tension and carefully integrate these truths is crucial.

The word "revelation" literally translates to an "unveiling" or "disclosing". It traces back to the late 14th-century Middle English revelacioun, rooted in Old French and the Latin revēlātiō, noun of action from past-participle stem of revelare "unveil, uncover, lay bare" (see reveal). It is also the standard translation of the Greek term apokalyptein (found in the biblical Book of Revelation/Apocalypse), which combines apo ("off, away from") and kalyptein ("to cover, conceal"). According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the noun revelation was first used in English during the Middle English period (1150-1500), with the earliest recorded evidence appearing around 1384 in the early version of the Wycliffite Bible.

Clandestine elements are crucial in storytelling because they drive conflict, build tension, and force characters into deeper psychological development. By operating in the shadows, these secret actions, hidden motives, or underground movements challenge the status quo and make the narrative stakes much higher. Amplifying Suspense and Tension: When narratives introduce clandestine operations (like secret societies, resistance movements, or covert plots), they create an environment of paranoia and uncertainty. Readers or viewers are placed in a position of dramatic irony—they often know a clandestine act is occurring, but the characters do not. This information asymmetry generates powerful suspense. Driving Plot and Conflict: Hidden agendas and underground forces serve as the ultimate catalysts for change. Because clandestine groups inherently oppose the established order, their secretive nature acts as a disruptive force. Whether it is a rebellion plotting to overthrow a regime or a detective uncovering a secret syndicate, hidden layers push the plot forward as the truth is slowly unraveled. Fleshing Out Character Motivations: Characters involved in secret activities are often forced to wear metaphorical masks. This creates an inherent tension between their true identities (what they believe and feel in private) and their public personas. Clandestine storytelling highlights internal conflict, as characters must constantly weigh the risks of exposure against the necessity of their mission. Exploring Forbidden Themes: Historically and culturally, authors have used clandestine narratives to tackle sensitive or subversive topics. When overt resistance is punished, characters are forced to operate secretly. This allows stories to deeply explore themes like censorship, political corruption, and the fight for autonomy in a way that is compelling and allegorical. Engaging the Audience: A clandestine narrative actively invites the audience to participate in the story. Because things are hidden from view, the audience becomes an investigator, piecing together clues and foreshadowing before the grand reveal. This interactive engagement keeps the reader highly invested in the outcome. Incorporating these hidden, unauthorized, or covert layers elevates a simple plot into a rich, immersive experience that resonates deeply with human psychology.

Clandestine traces back to the mid-16th century, emerging in English from the Middle French word clandestin. It ultimately derives from the Latin clandestinus ("secret or concealed"), which is built upon the Latin adverb clam ("to cover, conceal, or save") and the Latin suffix -stinus. According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the adjective clandestine was first used in English in the mid-16th century. The OED's earliest recorded evidence of the word dates back to 1566 in the writings of Lethington (Sir Richard Maitland). According to the OED, the adverb clandestinely was first used in English in 1632 found in the High Commission Cases. According to the OED, the verb clandestine was first used in English in 1656 in the writings of S. Hunton.

He-man was my son's favorite super hero when he was younger and he'd always go around spouting that phrase - "I have he Power!"

The concept of power in storytelling is foundational because it creates narrative tension,m drives character arcs, and reflects societal structures. Every story is essentially a dynamic interplay of power—whether it’s physical might, political control, emotional manipulation, or internal willpower. Here is how power shapes and drives narrative: Establishes the Conflict: Power disparities set the stage. The classic "David vs. Goliath" or underdog narrative relies on an imbalance of power, forcing the protagonist to challenge the status quo, grow, and overcome systemic or physical odds. Reveals Character: How a character handles power shows who they truly are. It acts as a stress test for morality, exposing whether they are corrupted by control or motivated to protect the vulnerable. Reflects and Shapes Society: Storytellers use narratives to examine and critique real-world power structures. From dystopian warnings like 1984 to fairy tales, narratives highlight who holds control, who is oppressed, and how societies can be changed. Drives the Narrative Arc: Characters with agency (the power to make choices that impact the plot) move the story forward. Shifts in the balance of power create the plot's rising action, climax, and resolution. Engages the Audience: Neuroscience shows that narratives release oxytocin in the brain, fostering deep empathy. When storytellers control the narrative, they possess the power to persuade, mobilize, and shift audience perspectives. The concept that power always demands a cost prevents a narrative from feeling hollow. It maintains character stakes, grounds magical or political elements in reality, and forces protagonists to make agonizing choices. This principle drives internal conflict and organically determines the narrative consequences of every action.

The word power traces back to the Latin root potis (meaning "able" or "powerful"). Evolving through vulgar Latin (The word power traces back to the Latin word potis (meaning "able" or "powerful"). Evolving through Vulgar Latin ( (potēre - "to be able") and Old French (poeir - "ability/to be able"), it was adopted into Middle English as poer and later power. If you see the surname Power, it actually has an entirely different origin; it evolved from Old French and Middle English as an ethnic/habitational name for a "native of the Pays de Poix" (a region in France). According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the noun power was first used in English around the year 1300, during the Middle English period, most notably in the text St. James the Great.. It was borrowed from Anglo-French and Old French (pouair / povoir) and was originally used to denote "ability," "strength," or "might". It refers to the ability, capacity, or official authority to do something. It can also refer to physical strength, energy, or an electrical supply. As a transitive or intransitive verb, "power" dates back to the late 1500s, with its first recorded evidence appearing in 1592, with early instances of the verb initially meaning to "make powerful". The modern sense of the word meaning "to supply with mechanical or electrical power", or with great speed or force, emerged much later, specifically in 1898. Related terms: The word powerful was first recorded in writing around 1450. The word "powerless" was first used in English around 1425.

That was AI generated information, so I'm pretty sure that's safe. I don't think AI will complain or sue you. 🤪

A strategic approach to character development transforms a static cast into dynamic, memorable figures. It ensures every backstory, flaw, and motivation directly serves the narrative arc. This alignment anchors the plot, creates organic conflict, and builds deep emotional resonance with your audience. Why Strategy Drives the Narrative Engine: Plot Synergy: Action-driven plots falter without emotional stakes. Strategic characters tie external events to internal desires, making plot developments feel inevitable rather than forced. Organic Conflict: When you define a character’s worldview, flaws, and triggers, the obstacles they face and the mistakes they make happen naturally, avoiding contrived scenarios. The Character Arc: Strategy allows you to map a clear trajectory from who they are at the start of the story, what they lack in the middle, and who they become at the conclusion. Essential Strategic Components to Map: To craft compelling development, focus on building specific intersections between the internal and external: The Want vs. The Need: The external, tangible goal (e.g., getting a promotion) should clash with their hidden internal necessity (e.g., learning to trust others). Deep Backstory: Don't just list historical facts; isolate the "lie" the character believes about the world because of past trauma, and chart how the story forces them to unlearn it. Concrete Motivations: Every choice a character makes should stem from a deeply held value or fear, giving dialogue and action clear purpose. Practical Approaches to Application: Show, Don't Tell: Instead of expository paragraphs detailing a trait, drop the character into a scenario where their specific strategies or flaws are tested. Embrace Flaws: Give characters contradictions. A hero who is brave but deeply selfish creates immediate tension when faced with a moral choice. Track Progression: Establish anchor points—such as the beginning, midpoint, and climax—to track how the character's perspective shifts as the stakes rise.