Dr. Q makes statements--erratic, shocking, evocative, provocative, illogical, common-sensical--and students respond in kind. In fencing there is parry and trust.
In debate there is point and counter point.
In boxing there is pummeling and blocking.
Today I'll compare the classroom combat to base ball. Dr. Q pitches curve balls, fast balls, spit balls, in the strike zone and out, balks, etc.
Students swing and miss, swing and foul, get beaned, not swing at all, or, in this fantasy world, steal first base!
What makes writing this thing so dang interesting to me is the infinite variety of configurations and permutations. I can't control what comes out of Dr. Q's mouth; this is okay. On his own he comes up with the most outrageous quotes which are like food for thought...
... and toss of dice, the outcome of which determines how much money each student bets.
But I control (back to my baseball metaphor) which batter/student comes up to bat. In baseball, if coaches knew what pitch was coming they'd arrange the line up in order to maximize hits. In this novel I'm not interested in giving each batter/student a base hit or home run. I'm arranging the verbal pitches and swings in such a way to portray how Dr. Q's steady stream of pitches slowly galvanizes some students...
I haven't started drawing yet but I suspect I'll even be able to manipulate Dr. Q's facial expressions so he too is either galvanized or molded by his students.
The plot of the book is to trace the gradual changes students go through. The same sun that hardens the clay ...
... melts the ice.
The same teacher who drives some students from the class prompts others to stay and fight, stay and defend, or stay and grapple.
I choose which student comes up to bat and then I choose how they respond to Dr. Q's pitch. How do I do this? It's all very mysterious, actually. I sit here in silence and mentally flip through the roster of nineteen or twenty potential batters. When I stumble upon the batter that best fits the plot, I then I flip through the dozen or so possible responses: agree, disagree, explain, argue back, mock, make jokes, worry, stubbornly resist being influenced, or succumb to Dr. Q's influence like falling dominoes.
There's one more thing I keep juggling in my head--continuity through all 400+ pages. I've got to keep the characters in character while at the same time portraying growth, change, or resistance keeping the class whole. It's like those videos you've seen of flocks of birds flying in sync.
What made the Rubik's Cube so popular was the perfect blend of simplicity and complexity.
The plot of this graphic novel is boringly simple. A guy talks; students respond. But the narrative drama is infinitely complex. Twenty or so students twist and turn, align or contrast, cohere or get jumbled. It's like playing chess with pieces with free will...
...like playing music with liquid sheet music...
... like playing philosophical whack-a-mole.
End of metaphor menagerie. You can kill me now.
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