My friend and editor David Mills is a contradiction of the old saw, “Them what can’t do, teach,” for he can both write wonderfully well, and teaches others the skill. He has often noted that many of his charges, mostly graduate students, come to him with little exposure to or training in the art. It is typically assumed to have been picked up elsewhere--so they have been left to thrash about, and often founder, among the rocks and shoals of the compositional sea. Thirty-five year old professionals, he tells us, often have only the barest acquaintance with “our friend, Mr. Thesis Statement,” or knowledge of his powers.
Having just spent the better part of an hour trying to make sense of one of the aforementioned thrashings-about (Touchstone receives a fair number of them), attempting to determine (1) what the author is trying to say, (2) whether he has actually said it, and (3) what all this could possibly have to do with our enterprise here, I am inspired to make the following observations of my own:
People like David did not make up Mr. Thesis Statement merely to entertain themselves or belabor their hapless students. That gentleman represents, and is the governing part of, the logical body that every worthy composition is. For the same reason that we do not expect people wandering about with their heads under their arms or feet protruding from their skulls to supplement our comprehension of the transcendentals, we do not expect essays that are composed of ill-joined members to serve our understanding. We reasonably expect a coherent body descending from a head from which every part devolves so as to increase rather than defeat our comprehension of the whole. The train of thought put forward should be a well-articulated amplification of the idea it has begun with. This is true whether the piece is a paragraph, a section, a chapter, an article, or an entire dissertation. “A spectre is haunting Europe” is not merely an artful observation, but the seed of something. So is “Call me Ishmael,” and “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.”
There seems to be a continuum upon which writers fall that goes from the apparently hopeless to the naturally talented—the latter being those who seem to write well with little apparent effort. While even these can profit from criticism and good editing, most of us who try to write fall somewhere in between, in the place where good writing is the result of effort, practice, and paying close attention to those who can help us do better.
If I were to identify what I think is the most frequent mistake of the writers of bad writing we receive, I would say that it is the same that most of us have with speaking: we express ourselves without first thinking clearly and carefully—and with brutal self-criticism--about what we are going to say and how we are going to say it. We have the impression that our minds are pregnant with valuable thoughts that really must be heard without recalling that unless exercise the labor and discipline necessary to put them in a form that can be understood by others, as thoughts-to-be-shared they remain sterile. This is why writing is an art--a rhetorical art--and a process that, while it depends on good thinking, should be thought of as another thing entirely. For while good thinking depends on the internal coherence of the thought itself, good writing, like good speaking, is the art of word-use and knowing the mind of one’s audience.
Much of the writing we accept here is that of mature writers, which is to say, of people made complex by age, knowledge, and experience, who are taking pains to write as simply as they can. If I may say it—and I don’t wish to embarrass here, but don’t think I can avoid it--much of what we reject is that of simpler people who have bitten off more than they can chew and are trying to be “complex”—often trying to make a big point on a field they don’t understand sufficiently well. (When we are criticized by such people it is frequently along the lines of, “you don’t appreciate the complexity of the matter”—an almost infallible mark of a person, usually young, who has encountered the “manifold,” but does not understand yet how it must be handled in the discipline of writers who know it far better than he does. If he perseveres, he will eventually understand that one cannot articulate the world in a single huff.) We have gladly accepted writing by the very young. Bethany Torode gave us a full feature when she was nineteen. But she wrote exceedingly well of something that she knew about. We could ask no more of the oldest head among us.
>>>“A spectre is haunting Europe” is not merely an artful observation, but the seed of something. So is “Call me Ishmael,” and “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” <<<
"in a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit".
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 23, 2007 at 01:07 PM
>>>While even these can profit from criticism and good editing, most of us who try to write fall somewhere in between, in the place where good writing is the result of effort, practice, and paying close attention to those who can help us do better. <<<
A good editor is invaluable in the development of a writer, and conversely, lack of one can be the downfall of even a naturally talented one. We frequently see this with authors who make a big splash with their first work, especially if it is commercially as well as critically successful. Thereafter, ego seems to take over, and editors are loathe to run the blue pencil through the verbose, tedious, awkward, repetitious and banal. Second books are almost always longer than first ones, and not nearly as good. Pity, though.
That said, I never really "loved" my editor. Ours was a love/hate relationship from start to finish.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 23, 2007 at 01:12 PM
>>We frequently see this with authors who make a big splash with their first work, especially if it is commercially as well as critically successful. Thereafter, ego seems to take over, and editors are loathe to run the blue pencil through the verbose, tedious, awkward, repetitious and banal.<<
I think the Harry Potter novels are a good example, though the later ones are still worthwhile despite all the fat. But what editor's gonna drop the hammer on a best-seller? And if the bloated book is going to sell anyway, isn't it just unnecessary extra work? :-P
Posted by: Ethan Cordray | April 23, 2007 at 01:38 PM
What advice would the experience writers give those who want to become better writers but don't have editors?
Posted by: bd | April 23, 2007 at 02:58 PM
to BD - not that I claim to be experienced but...
Check your work yourself before you hit post!
It should have read 'experienced'
Posted by: jmark | April 23, 2007 at 03:07 PM
BD -- find experienced writers who will help you critique your work -- two friends and I share word weekly and tear it apart to put it back together. Take a correspondence course (but be sure it comes highly recommended from someone you trust who is a good writer). Read good books and work at applying their advice; working with others to do this will be helpful too. If a local college offers good advanced writing classes, take one (but these can be not so good; again, get recommendations).
Some ideas just off the top of my head --
Posted by: Beth | April 23, 2007 at 03:15 PM
>>>What advice would the experience writers give those who want to become better writers but don't have editors?<<<
1. Read good authors, but don't copy their style.
2. Write about what you know.
3. Write a lot.
4. Develop an authentic voice.
5. Less is usually more, when it comes to writing. This does not contradict (3) above.
6. Learn to live with rejection. What does not kill you makes you stronger.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 23, 2007 at 03:20 PM
"word" should have been either "work" or possibly "words" -- another hint: don't try to proofread while a student is settling in for an appointment.
Stuart's number 1 is vitally important -- and read eclectically so you pick up lots of styles and approaches, which gives you a better chance to develop an authentic voice.
Posted by: Beth | April 23, 2007 at 03:31 PM
Steve -- well put. I intend to share the link to this with my colleagues and probably use it in the fall with my writing classes as one more voice to add to the repertoire. (And what you say about David is true, in spades.)
Posted by: Beth | April 23, 2007 at 03:35 PM
I do not pretend to be one of those aged few of whom Mr. Hutchens spoke, having experience and knowledge. At 19, I have accomplished little more than writing a few essays in high school, albeit academically challenging programs like International Baccaluareate, but I do recall the one piece of advice I will always follow, given to me by a wise ninth grade English teacher: "A good thesis statement is like one of Tolkien's wizards: they are never long, and always say precisely what they intend to." If nothing else, Mr. Hutchens, you could have simply summed up your entire post in this.
Be precise and concise. Speaking of these qualities and bringing up Tolkien (as Stuart has done above with reference to The Hobbit), it seems the great mistake of modern writers attempting to follow in Tolkien's tradition to mistake majesty for verbosity. Tolkien was an adroit crafter of the English language, inspiring readers to envision the mines of Moria. The paragraph he spent speaking of their characteristics--or indeed, practically any one of his settings--were not wasteful in word. Christopher Paolini, however, of Eragon fame, seems to think telling us how impressively large the mountains are, using four different sentences when it could have been said in one, amounts to the same, as it is a paragraph of description. He would have faired better if such a paragraph had opened to say how intimidating the mountains were to our heroes, with each successive sentence saying something of their size, composition and perhaps the way the sun played off the rocks and snow to create a sense of transcendence.
Alas...
Posted by: Michael | April 23, 2007 at 04:21 PM
Strunk and White. That's about as succinctly as I can put it.
Posted by: Bill R | April 23, 2007 at 04:32 PM
Yes, Strunk and White. What a gem! Having read it, I live in perpetual frustration at lacking the time to write briefly.
Posted by: Reid | April 23, 2007 at 04:48 PM
>>1. Read good authors, but don't copy their style.<<
I'd change it to "1. Read good authors, and do copy their style."
And once you've gotten that down, then find your own voice.
Let me add: simple sentences for simple thoughts, complex sentences for complex thoughts. And vary your thought structures, not just your sentence structures.
I'm not really the one to be giving advice, being a callow apprentice myself, and terribly given to verbal excess. Is there a 12-step program for adverb addiction?
Posted by: Ethan Cordray | April 23, 2007 at 04:49 PM
Well said, Michael.
Your Tolkien example raises another point, related to Stuart's "Write what you know."
Don't artificially attempt a style outside your ability. Tolkien, being an Englishman, philologist, and man of his time, could command certain linguistic effects that are impossible for a later imitator, particularly an American. One's natural speech patterns will always intrude on one's prose.
The only way to alter this is to broaden your organic language use. Personally, I find extensive reading the best way to do this.
Posted by: Ethan Cordray | April 23, 2007 at 04:58 PM
The first draft is to yourself as an exercise in figuring out what you are writing about. The second draft is for the reader.
Posted by: Bobby Winters | April 23, 2007 at 05:20 PM
>I'm not really the one to be giving advice, being a callow apprentice myself, and terribly given to verbal excess. Is there a 12-step program for adverb addiction?<
Likewise to the first sentence, and "sign me up" for the second.
That said, however, I disagree with you entirely on the admonition "don't artificially attempt a style outside your ability." I have rarely understood styles as a concept of ability so much as inherent voice. If one were to have sufficient understanding of divers synonyms--and more importantly, a rudimentary education in connotation vs. denotation--he could quite easily shape a sentence to communicate just about any quality.
Imitation is inherently a form of practice. The mind knows what your scholastic thinking does not, namely in this case when a sentence sounds odd. Thus, when you are artificially attempting a style outside your ability, it is in effect "read[ing] good authors and...copy[ing] their style" as per your original instruction. The mistake comes when you attempt to pass that style off as your own rather than an attempt at something new.
Posted by: Michael | April 23, 2007 at 05:22 PM
>The first draft is to yourself as an exercise in figuring out what you are writing about. The second draft is for the reader.<
I have read some terribly written second drafts.
Writing is not a question of how many times it takes to "get it right," but a question whether one is gifted with the ability to make it right. Some people are simply poor writers, and no matter how much they attempt to pass themselves off as somewhat good, they will always be poor. Now, there are certain skills that can be learned--varied sentence length and structure, as Ethan mentioned; use of synonyms and pronouns--but a fencing class does not a good swordsman make.
Posted by: Michael | April 23, 2007 at 05:27 PM
>>>I'd change it to "1. Read good authors, and do copy their style."<<<
The danger there is falling into pastiche and mistaking it for one's own voice. Or worse, becoming a parody of the authors you admire. Which isn't bad, if you want to work for Harvard Lampoon or the Onion.
>>>One's natural speech patterns will always intrude on one's prose.<<<
That's why I write as I talk and talk as I write.
>>>>The first draft is to yourself as an exercise in figuring out what you are writing about. The second draft is for the reader.<
I have read some terribly written second drafts.<<<
I'm not a great fan of multiple drafts. Perhaps it is due to my perpetual procrastination, combined with the constant press of multiple deadlines, but I long ago figured out how to make first draft equal final draft (more or less--I usually go back to look for spelling and grammar errors caused by changing my mind in mid-sentence). I spend a lot of time THINKING about what I am going to write. Sometimes I use a very sketchy outline, sometimes I don't. Then I apply seat of pants to seat of chair (a skill every writer has to master) and I write it all out. If I am writing something academic I usually go from beginning to end, and then backfill the footnotes. My sourcing system consists of a huge stack of books with colored tabs, plus a set of bookmark folders on my browser organized by subject. I don't recommend this approach for anyone else, but it does work for me.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 23, 2007 at 06:03 PM
>>I'm not a great fan of multiple drafts. Perhaps it is due to my perpetual procrastination, combined with the constant press of multiple deadlines, but I long ago figured out how to make first draft equal final draft (more or less--I usually go back to look for spelling and grammar errors caused by changing my mind in mid-sentence). I spend a lot of time THINKING about what I am going to write. Sometimes I use a very sketchy outline, sometimes I don't. Then I apply seat of pants to seat of chair (a skill every writer has to master) and I write it all out.<<
My technique is quite similar. And I also tend to read to myself what I'm writing as I write it.
Posted by: Ethan Cordray | April 23, 2007 at 06:18 PM
>>>My technique is quite similar. And I also tend to read to myself what I'm writing as I write it.<<<
There's a lot of orality in my writing. I tend to write as if whatever it is would have to be read aloud. That, I think, causes great attention to cadence and alliteration.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 23, 2007 at 06:34 PM
>>I'm not a great fan of multiple drafts. Perhaps it is due to my perpetual procrastination, combined with the constant press of multiple deadlines, but I long ago figured out how to make first draft equal final draft (more or less--I usually go back to look for spelling and grammar errors caused by changing my mind in mid-sentence). I spend a lot of time THINKING about what I am going to write. Sometimes I use a very sketchy outline, sometimes I don't. Then I apply seat of pants to seat of chair (a skill every writer has to master) and I write it all out. If I am writing something academic I usually go from beginning to end, and then backfill the footnotes. My sourcing system consists of a huge stack of books with colored tabs, plus a set of bookmark folders on my browser organized by subject. I don't recommend this approach for anyone else, but it does work for me.<<
Ditto, with the exception of footnotes. When I am using explanatory footnotes (as compared to referential footnotes), I always write them as I go, but this is due to my natural inclination to clarify something midsentence the same way I do in speech. My penchant for verbosity is cut in half when I am writing by using techniques like footnotes to hide circumlocutions.
I think what makes this work for the three of us--that is Stuart, Ethan and myself--is that, if I may be honest without being humble, we are perhaps given to some skill in writing, and moreover, to some inherent ability to mentally file information, and therefore apply it where appropriate. When a person writes over a period of time, like spending weeks on term papers, a great deal of that time is consumed with trying to make one's paper sound more intelligent than it is, like high school papers mimicking the writing of Ph.D. dissertations. When I am writing at the last minute, I do not have time for fluff, and so my only goal is to be clear and get it done. Since I have been called a walking dictionary and thesaurus, the fact is I can do this pretty well. Unless Stuart and Ethan each spend twenty minutes forming each sentence, which I doubt, they seem to be gifted with the same ability.
Posted by: Michael | April 23, 2007 at 07:02 PM
>>>When a person writes over a period of time, like spending weeks on term papers, a great deal of that time is consumed with trying to make one's paper sound more intelligent than it is, like high school papers mimicking the writing of Ph.D. dissertations.<<<
When my kids complain about writing term papers, I tell them my job is to write one term paper per week, 52 weeks per year. Their response: "Dad, why don't you get a better job?"
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 23, 2007 at 07:49 PM
Really, Stuart? What is it exactly that you do?
As to their response and general aversion to writing term papers, the only paper I ever wrote that amounts to a term paper was a 10-page report and analysis on the Soviet influence of United States foreign policy regarding China and Taiwan, and I have to say it was one of the most enjoyable and fascinating things I have ever done. Perhaps it is that I am just given to enjoy learning generally useless information?
Posted by: Michael | April 23, 2007 at 08:14 PM
>>>I'm not a great fan of multiple drafts. <<<
I've learned to appreciate the second draft. Having written technical mathematics, I got the habit of writing densely. With my weekly column, I do a first draft on saturday (usually) and then on Sunday before church I get up an go over it to unpack it a little. Often, I add a little more humor at this point. Also when one writes for a small town newspaper that doesn't even proofread its headlines (e.g. High speed persuit), a deep proofing is a great idea.
Posted by: Bobby Winters | April 23, 2007 at 08:18 PM
Perhaps paradoxically, I would suggest not actively or consciously seeking to develop a personal style or cultivate a distinctive voice at all. Rather, concentrate upon essentials -- precise vocabularly, concise description, logical order, etc. -- and a personal style will develop of its own. The ruination of modern art -- whether in writing prose, poetry, or music, or creating sculpture, paintings, or architecture -- has been the ceasless itch for "originality" or "novelty" first at the expense of sound content and proper craftsmanship. Effect has become everything, substance nothing.
In addition, a suggestion from David Mills -- write in longhand; do not compose at a computer, which tends to verbosity and clunky, poorly constructed prose. The slower pace of the pen, aside from being an aesthetic and tactile pleasure, also gives one needed time to reflect on what one is writing. [Of course, I generally don't follow my own advice in writing blogs! :-)]
Posted by: James A. Altena | April 23, 2007 at 08:23 PM
>>In addition, a suggestion from David Mills -- write in longhand; do not compose at a computer, which tends to verbosity and clunky, poorly constructed prose. The slower pace of the pen, aside from being an aesthetic and tactile pleasure, also gives one needed time to reflect on what one is writing. [Of course, I generally don't follow my own advice in writing blogs! :-)]<<
I love writing longhand, but do not for a minute assume that it would cut my longwindedness. As a matter of fact, I know it doesn't unless I am being timed. However, I like to believe this habit is not entirely fruitless, in that though I am wordy, I am also thorough. Corrections to my young ego are appreciated.
Posted by: Michael | April 23, 2007 at 08:43 PM
>>>Really, Stuart? What is it exactly that you do?<<<
Many, many things. Defense consultant, military historian, strategic business analysis, concept development, training and doctrinal analysis, among other things. Right now, I am putting together a conference on future national security policy at Johns Hopkins-SAIS, conducting an analysis of ceramic armor technology, working on a paper on the transformation of war, and helping with the appeal of a breach of contract suit involving one of my clients. I'm also trying to demolish the crappy translation of the Divine Liturgy recently promulgated by my Church.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 23, 2007 at 08:51 PM
First draft of a Sermon:
Meeting God face to face
John 10:22-30
10:22 At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter,
10:23 and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon.
10:24 So the Jews gathered around him and said to him, "How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly."
10:25 Jesus answered, "I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father's name testify to me;
10:26 but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep.
10:27 My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.
10:28 I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand.
10:29 What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father's hand.
10:30 The Father and I are one."
/***/
Today’s reading, as you heard, is from the Gospel According to John. We all know from Sunday School that there are four Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. The scholars who study these things have grouped the first three of these together and labeled them the Synoptic Gospels. The word synoptic come from “optic” meaning seeing and the prefix “syn” that means together. This is because there is quite a bit of overlap among them and so they are said to be seeing Jesus together.
John is kept over by itself. There are things in the others that John doesn’t mention, there are places where he mentions it but casts it in a different way, and there are things he mentions that no one else does. If you were an attorney trying to make a case and three of your witnesses agreed almost completely and one was so different, you’d be tempted to hush up the fourth witness, but John has not been hushed up.
One of the reasons for this is that John is the work of pure genius. There are literary devices that are used which are so subtle that most people have to be shown them. Since this isn’t a literature class, I won’t talk about that now, but suffice it to say that I think that Chapters 3 and 4 should be read together always because they are getting at the same thing.
The main reason, though, is its theology. The Christian apologist C.S. Lewis put it best when he said that you either have to believe the Gospel of John it the work of a complete lunatic writing about someone who is even crazier than he is or that Jesus is God. I believe the second and for me every year I realize more and more what a radical notion that is.
It is shocking. I’ve been in discussions with atheists who attack this Christian notion. How can Jesus be God because God cannot die? My answer to them is easy: You don’t even believe in God so how do you know what he can or can’t do? The answer to me and to you is less easy. It is something we have to struggle with.
Jesus is God, and Jesus is the son of God, so God is his own father. The Father sent Jesus to die on the cross so is this a suicide or what?
I don’t understand, but it doesn’t bother me. God is by definition the biggest puzzle ever and even beyond ever. I am not supposed to understand Him. I am supposed to love Him.
What I do know that that Jesus is God.
Knowing this fact is like being given a shovel when there is a ditch to be dug. The work is about to begin.
Many of you may have seen the movie Bruce Almighty. It is about a man who is given God’s power for a period of time. Bruce can control the weather, direct the course of the moon, and pick who wins the lottery. This is the sort of power most of associate with God. Yet have seen this?
I firmly believe that God is at work in the world everyday, but I’ve not seen Him work through such ostentatious displays. Mostly I see him work through the small things, and this is true of Jesus too. When Jesus turned the water into wine, the wine was just sort of there, hardly anybody knew what happened, and nobody made a big deal out of it.
By following Christ, we may do things that only God can do. What does this following Christ entail? Learning is a lifetime activity, but I will hit a few high points for you.
Forgiving. Forgive those who have sinned against you. This is a big one and that’s why we put into the Lord’s prayer and say it every Sunday because it takes some of us a while to get it.
Healing. Sometimes we get into a trap thinking that only doctors and nurses can heal, but some of the most powerful healing I’ve experienced has been when an old friend grabbed me by the shoulder and said hello. Pies work well too; pies have amazing healing properties.
Loving. The Bible plainly says that God is love, yet we seem to resist that notion.
I could go on and mention more thing, but I am going to stop with three. Get these three down first, and then you can go to the Gospel of John again and pick out a few more.
Father, you have given us the gift of your only Begotten son Jesus. Give us the strength and courage and wisdom it take to follow him as we try to find our way back to you. AMEN.
Posted by: Bobby Winters | April 23, 2007 at 09:33 PM
>>In addition, a suggestion from David Mills -- write in longhand; do not compose at a computer, which tends to verbosity and clunky, poorly constructed prose.<<
Or do as I do and type very poorly. It slows one's verbosity down tremendously and has the advantage of being far more legible than messy longhand like mine;)
>>Is there a 12-step program for adverb addiction?<< If there is, can I join? "Hi, my name is Luthien and I'm an adverb addict..." In 11th grade I managed to cut a whole page off of a term paper on the connection between WWI and the Rise of Hitler just by deleting some of the extraneous modifiers, which when the paper was only 14 pages long post-editing is rather atrocious.
Michael, are you really only 19?! I would have thought you were at least 30 based on your other comments here.
Posted by: luthien | April 23, 2007 at 10:03 PM
"The slower pace of the pen, aside from being an aesthetic and tactile pleasure, also gives one needed time to reflect on what one is writing."
Oh my, James, don't tell me that you love fountain pens (too)--the secret vice of the verbal set? I love my Levenger Verona, medium nib! Don't get me started on Pelikans....
Posted by: Bill R | April 23, 2007 at 10:37 PM
>>Michael, are you really only 19?! I would have thought you were at least 30 based on your other comments here.<<
Nineteen and going strong, though the inclination to think I am thirty is flattering. At some point early in life I realized that I liked to know things, and that meant ultimately being able to understand those things about which I was curious. The root of all understanding--aside from the Proverbial and truthful "fear of God"--is communications, and therefore language. The very words we use are not merely connotation and denotation, but the very existence of an object. To speak something is to make it manifest as an abstract concept, which means one must understand their language. So, when you are curious, you generally end up being communicative, and when communicative, generally seek out abstract concepts to discuss. Thus, I end up reading Marc Antony, Voltaire, Descartes...Koehl =P (and currently trying to read through the Summa Theologica).
I am young--keep sharpening me. I have yet to run across a feeble mind from the faithful posters of this blog.
Posted by: Michael | April 24, 2007 at 12:26 AM
>>Oh my, James, don't tell me that you love fountain pens (too)--the secret vice of the verbal set? I love my Levenger Verona, medium nib! Don't get me started on Pelikans....<<
Oh, my, Bill! I once thought that I alone had a strange affinity for general office supplies, being hyper-selective of what writing instruments I use. (I once wrote an entire blog post about why Uniball Vision Elites, as far as ballpoint pens go, are the best, along with Staedtler drafting pencils.) I have a fountain pen set, but rarely use it, as it seems grossly impractical for simply jotting down notes or scratching poetry.
Posted by: Michael | April 24, 2007 at 12:28 AM
“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.”
"This is the story of a man, one who was never at a loss."
"'Matrimony was ordained, thirdly,' said Jane Studdock to herself, 'for the mutual society, help and comfort that the one ought to have of the other.'"
Posted by: Judy Warner | April 24, 2007 at 05:51 AM
Fountain pens and drafting in longhand -- yes!
Learn the basics of clarity, concision, precision . . . and style will cultivate itself -- yes!
I need some of you to come reiterate this to my advanced writing students this fall, some of whom I know from past (and present) experience will continue to resist it . . .!
Posted by: Beth | April 24, 2007 at 06:39 AM
I gained a great deal of respect for editors recently. A client sent me a draft of a booklet I had suggested he produce. It was written by a published author whose work I like. It was so badly organized and so missed bringing out the powerful points of the subject (treatment of women under Islam) that I was dumbstruck. When I criticized it I was sent a draft by somebody else, whose work I very much admire. It was more coherent but missed the point that this booklet is to be aimed at the general public, not political junkies. It was laden down with long, difficult quotes from source material that could easily have been relegated to endnotes, and downplayed points that would have the greatest resonance with the public and are critical to the subject. Fortunately the management of the project was re-assigned to someone who has been a publisher. I suggested he hire a writer who has worked for Readers Digest to write the thing; if they don't do something like that I might volunteer to write it myself.
Posted by: Judy Warner | April 24, 2007 at 06:50 AM
>>>“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.”
"This is the story of a man, one who was never at a loss."
"'Matrimony was ordained, thirdly,' said Jane Studdock to herself, 'for the mutual society, help and comfort that the one ought to have of the other.'"<<<
"It was a dark and stormy night".
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 24, 2007 at 06:52 AM
>>>I gained a great deal of respect for editors recently.<<<
I came to appreciate the job more when I was called upon to edit an anthology of papers delivered at a symposium I organized. Though all of the presenters were very accomplished in their field, and though many possessed advanced degrees, most could not write their way out of a hat. It took me longer to make sense of their work than it would for me to have written all of the papers from scratch. Collaboration is also a task that involves a degree of editing when your collaborator simply gives you stuff and tells you to make it fit. That usually means I have to re-write it from the beginning. That said, one of my early collaborators, Edward Luttwak, turned out to be my best teacher with regard to writing. Simple, straightforward sentences, clear syntax, the logical construction of an argument--I learned most of these things from him.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 24, 2007 at 06:57 AM
Back to the original post. David Mills is one of the reasons Touchstone is such a magnificent read. He is thoughtful to the mission of the magazine and to the author. He gave me a lot of helpful advice as I was attempting to break in, and I profited a great deal by it even as he rejected my articles. There is another publication I've been able to get into several times and I believe it is due in part to David's teaching efforts.
Let's give David a big round of applause.
Posted by: Bobby Winters | April 24, 2007 at 06:58 AM
Let's give David a big round of applause.
Amen to that.
My husband worked in the Office of Policy Development in the Reagan White House. His boss told him that no policy initiative would be considered unless it was summarized on one page. My husband says that rule did more for his writing than just about anything he has ever come across. One of his colleagues had some good ideas, but he could not get any of them down on one page and so his ideas were not considered.
Posted by: Judy Warner | April 24, 2007 at 07:12 AM
(((CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!)))
Sorry, Bill, I don't favor fountain pens -- or, perhaps, they don't favor me. Remember the Peanuts cartoons with Charlie Brown attempting to write letters with one? That would be the result if an uncoordianted klutz like me took such a lethal weapon in hand.
Dear Stuart,
Ceramic armor technology -- hmm, could you please come over to my apartment and armor some of my wife's cooking wares for her? :-)
Posted by: James A. Altena | April 24, 2007 at 07:14 AM
One of the best disciplines I was subjected to in high school was the weekly precis assignment (it was a school in the Middle East, based on the British system). They were tedious and probably disappeared from North American schools long ago (I never encountered them in my sojourns in American schools).
Let me now also praise my Parker 21, the low end of fountain pens that I inherited from my father. Still writes beautifully after more than 50 years. It's stewardly, too; think how many Bics and their upmarket siblings are not decomposing in land fills.
Posted by: kate | April 24, 2007 at 07:41 AM
>>>Ceramic armor technology -- hmm, could you please come over to my apartment and armor some of my wife's cooking wares for her? :-)<<<
The pots and the armor are pretty much the same thing. While ceramic armor can stop high-velocity bullets, if you should happen to drop it, it will break. The plates they put inside the Kevlar vests worn by the military have the words "Do Not Drop" stencilled in large letters on the inside cover. So armoring your wife's pots won't do much good. I think this is an issue best solved through proper training and good tactics.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 24, 2007 at 07:42 AM
The best written part of a government document that I have ever seen consisted of just one oxymoronic sentence:
"This page intentionally blank"
This is closely matched by a sign I saw in the hallway of the Department of Labor building:
"Do Not Step On Invisible Line"
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 24, 2007 at 07:45 AM
As a great deal of my job involves editing defense analysis writing for both style and content, I have to reacquaint young officers with their mother tongue. (Years in the Fleet teach an entirely different language.) I try to improve their writing incrementally.
First, learn how to write microcontent. This is crucial for modern communications. Composing the subject line of an e-mail or the title of an article enables the reader to distinguish what is relevant to him out of hundreds of competing pieces of noise. Microcontent that merely catches the eye is dishonest – acceptable for commerce but not for our business.
Next, try to write a sentence that communicates a single thought. Evaluate every word. Is what you have said true? Is that word, that phrase necessary? The best work on this subject is Richard Lanham’s Revising Prose .
Once you can write a sentence, you have the doctrinal foundation to tackle paragraphs. With a solid paragraph, you can start to use what I consider the Swiss Army Knife of writing – the Five Paragraph Theme.
Tom
P.S. The most entertaining grammar book ever is The Transitive Vampire - a Handbook of Grammar for the Innocent, the Eager, and the Doomed by Karen Elizabeth Gordon. Example: She is the prettier of the two mutants.
Posted by: Tom Austin | April 24, 2007 at 08:09 AM
"Those that can't do, teach. Those that can't teach, teach gym." -- Woody Allen
Posted by: Rob Grano | April 24, 2007 at 08:28 AM
This is an example of what I'm writing now. It's simply a description of an article of which a client is interested:
"Stool samples were collected from 110 patients suspected of having cholera in the summer of 1998 in Teheran, Iran. They were placed in Cary-Blair transport medium and isolated on thiosulfate-citrate-bile-salt-sucrose (TCBS) agar medium. The samples were serotyped and identified by their biochemical characteristics. Antibiotic susceptibility was also examined. Virulence genes were identified via the polymerase chain reaction and ribotyping was accomplished. All isolates were resistant to polymyxin B, tetracycline, co-trimoxazole and oxytetracycline. They displayed intermediate resistance to chloramphenicol but were susceptible to ciprofloxacin, erythromycin, gentamicin, and doxytetracycline."
I do wonder how Austen would have written it...
Posted by: Gene Godbold | April 24, 2007 at 09:27 AM
>>>Once you can write a sentence, you have the doctrinal foundation to tackle paragraphs. With a solid paragraph, you can start to use what I consider the Swiss Army Knife of writing – the Five Paragraph Theme.<<<
They still teach this at St. Stephens & St. Agnes School in Alexandria, where both my kids went to elementary and middle school. Writing is the strongest part of their curriculum, to the point that their students begin college head and shoulders above their peers from other schools. It's significant that most universities, even the Ivies, require incoming freshmen to take a basic writing course (with no testing out!). My older daughter is a junior at Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology, one of the elite public schools in the country. She discovered that most of her classmates from public--and even other private--schools simply could not write an essay. My younger daughter, who will be a freshman there next year, is grateful for the preparation that she received from SSSAS in this area, since her application essay is probably responsible for her getting into TJHSST.
>>>P.S. The most entertaining grammar book ever is The Transitive Vampire - a Handbook of Grammar for the Innocent, the Eager, and the Doomed by Karen Elizabeth Gordon. Example: She is the prettier of the two mutants.<<<
We in my family are also very fond of "Eats, Shoots and Leaves", an hillarious guide to punctuation.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 24, 2007 at 09:33 AM
>>>"Stool samples were collected from 110 patients suspected of having cholera in the summer of 1998 in Teheran, Iran. They were placed in Cary-Blair transport medium and isolated on thiosulfate-citrate-bile-salt-sucrose (TCBS) agar medium. The samples were serotyped and identified by their biochemical characteristics. Antibiotic susceptibility was also examined. Virulence genes were identified via the polymerase chain reaction and ribotyping was accomplished. All isolates were resistant to polymyxin B, tetracycline, co-trimoxazole and oxytetracycline. They displayed intermediate resistance to chloramphenicol but were susceptible to ciprofloxacin, erythromycin, gentamicin, and doxytetracycline."<<<
Uh-oh! I actually understood that. I feel so ashamed.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 24, 2007 at 09:34 AM
"Stool samples were collected from 110 patients suspected of having cholera in the summer of 1998 in Teheran, Iran. They were placed in Cary-Blair transport medium and isolated on hiosulfate-citrate-bile-salt-sucrose (TCBS) agar medium. The samples were serotyped and identified by their biochemical characteristics. Antibiotic susceptibility was also examined. Virulence genes were identified via the polymerase chain reaction and ribotyping was accomplished. All isolates were resistant to polymyxin B, tetracycline, co-trimoxazole and oxytetracycline. They displayed intermediate resistance to chloramphenicol but were susceptible to ciprofloxacin, erythromycin, gentamicin, and doxytetracycline."
Gene,
While the above is very well written, I think I'll wait for the movie. ;-)
Posted by: GL | April 24, 2007 at 10:11 AM
Back to the original post. David Mills is one of the reasons Touchstone is such a magnificent read. He is thoughtful to the mission of the magazine and to the author. He gave me a lot of helpful advice as I was attempting to break in, and I profited a great deal by it even as he rejected my articles. There is another publication I've been able to get into several times and I believe it is due in part to David's teaching efforts.
Let's give David a big round of applause.
David is working with me right now on an essay to be published in Touchstone. After reading his edits, I understand just how much I still have to learn about writing well. (I believe I use to be a better writer before I became a lawyer and then a law professor, where beating to death a subject is a prerequisite for getting one's law review articles published.)
Thank goodness David is there to save me from embarrassment.
(((CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!)))
Posted by: GL | April 24, 2007 at 10:20 AM
Bobby and Ethan,
I enjoyed both of your recent pieces in Touchstone and look forward to more from each of you in the future.
Posted by: GL | April 24, 2007 at 10:22 AM
Yes, I'm presently in negotiations for the rights. (I'm not trying to drop names but Spielberg's company is leading the bidding.) His people are looking at making it into a warm human-interest story about a mutant cholera bacterium that infects the President of the United States during a tense stand-off with a Jihadist leader in the wilds of Pakistan who has acquired several nukes through sympathetic members of the Pakistani army. I'd tell you more but I wouldn't want to ruin the plot.
Posted by: Gene Godbold | April 24, 2007 at 10:25 AM
Gene,
Is this movie going to be like Zoo, taking a sympathetic look at the often misunderstood and unfairly maligned mutant cholera bacteria? I see Sundance in your future.
Posted by: GL | April 24, 2007 at 10:35 AM
>>>Yes, I'm presently in negotiations for the rights.<<<
Much of what comes out of Hollywood now reminds me of cholera...
Posted by: Bobby Winters | April 24, 2007 at 10:45 AM
Dealing with these Hollywood types has been an education in itself. I've tried to sell them on exactly the angle that you mention, but they keep making noises about how nobody cares about microbiological entities and that the heart of the story should be about the action of the "brave CIA operative" who is closing in on the Jihadist group with the nuke and the merchant ship in Charleston Harbor. If this isn't speciesism at it's worst I don't know that I've ever seen it before. You wouldn't believe it if I told you how their eyes just glaze over when I start talking about virulence factors and how these should be incorporated into the picture.
Posted by: Gene Godbold | April 24, 2007 at 10:48 AM
I'm with you Bobby, I'd rather have 155 liters of liquid come out of my intestines than watch most of what's offered.
(There is a picture in many medical texts of a cholera survivor sitting on the ground with 155 liter containers holding the, uh, results of his bout with the bacterium. A little oral rehydration therapy is the only thing that keeps you alive in such a case--that or buy an awful lot of gatorade.)
Posted by: Gene Godbold | April 24, 2007 at 10:52 AM
Since SMH is a fellow librarian, I must digress (but only slightly) from the theme of this thread to convey this little tidbit. I am in the processing of reviewing books to order for our law library. I just came across the following: Unfit for marriage : impotent spouses on trial in the Basque Region of Spain, 1650-1750, Reno, Un. of Nevada Pr. (2007). It just goes to show that if you are interested in writing a book, there is no topic too obscure.
For the voyeuristic among you, the description includes the following teaser: "[A]n annulment was granted only after a Church court had conducted a lengthy investigation of the case . . . and had subjected the allegedly impotent spouse (and sometimes both spouses) to an intimate physical examination."
Posted by: GL | April 24, 2007 at 10:53 AM
I'm ashamed to relate this, but it does pertain to the topic. I offered a book review to Touchstone and David sent back a corrected copy that was highly illuminating. His analysis of my use (abuse, really) of metaphors was very insightful. It's been many months and I still haven't gotten it back to him. :-(
Posted by: Gene Godbold | April 24, 2007 at 10:57 AM
Dear Stuart,
We have a slight miscommunication. I mistakenly thought that "ceramic armor" would be ceramic overlaid on metal, and not just ceramic. Thus I was inviting you to come over and put a ceramic coating on my wife's iron cookware.
Posted by: James A. Altena | April 24, 2007 at 11:26 AM
Re: bad writing -- anyone else here fondly recall the hilarious old "New Yorker" magazine feature, "Sentences We Hated To Come To The End Of"?
Posted by: James A. Altena | April 24, 2007 at 11:28 AM
GL...eww. I can't imagine it proved much, either. I think you'd have to be a real pervert not to prove impotent under "intimate physical evaluation" by a church court.
Posted by: Ethan Cordray | April 24, 2007 at 11:37 AM
"Sentences We Hated To Come To The End Of"?
I once graded a student paper which did not contain a grammatically correct sentence with proper punctuation until the forth page. Needless to say, I assisted this student by "directing" him toward another career path.
Posted by: GL | April 24, 2007 at 11:39 AM
>>>Thus I was inviting you to come over and put a ceramic coating on my wife's iron cookware.<<<
I can do that for tanks and armored fighting vehicles; how much more difficult could a pot be?
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 24, 2007 at 12:21 PM
I too have enjoyed the articles by Ethan and Bobby. I admire their courage in submitting them to a superb editor such as David Mills. My ego is much, much too fragile for such honesty....
Posted by: Bill R | April 24, 2007 at 12:24 PM
"Sorry, Bill, I don't favor fountain pens -- or, perhaps, they don't favor me. Remember the Peanuts cartoons with Charlie Brown attempting to write letters with one? That would be the result if an uncoordianted klutz like me took such a lethal weapon in hand."
Ah, James, this is a very rare instance of your missing the point! I too am an uncoordinatate klutz (in my better moments), but a good fountain pen is a tool to help you overcome such a deficiency. My writing is so bad that my secretary of nearly 20 years still asks me to translate my scrawls. But I took up the fountain pen to FORCE myself to write well--you don't want to embarrass your pen, after all!
Kate, the Parker 21 is a noble instrument. I believe it's still in production. I don't doubt it will easily write well for another 50 years.
Posted by: Bill R | April 24, 2007 at 12:31 PM
Thank you, Steve and the others, for your kind and encouraging comments. Gosh.
I have been blessed since I started editing to work with people who wanted to write the best article they could and were willing to work with someone who could help them do so. (The exceptions were almost always businessmen or lawyers.) Though an editor still has to remember that he's dealing not only with their prose but with their egos and work with the writer rather than treating his work as a stonemason treats a pile of rocks.
For what it's worth, in my experience, good writers never complain about being edited. I can think of one or maybe two exceptions in the last ten or so years. They may well disagree with you, but they know what you're trying to do and know that you may see something they don't.
The only ones who complain about being edited are the poor writers, who aren't good enough to see their limitations. They're also the ones who tend to identify themselves as "writers," in a way the pros rarely do, reminding me of the story of the callow Stephen Spender telling the already venerable T. S. Eliot that he wanted to "be a poet," and Eliot (supposedly) replying, "I can understand your wanting to write poems, but I don't know what you mean by 'be a poet'."
Posted by: David Mills | April 24, 2007 at 01:46 PM
"(The exceptions were almost always businessmen or lawyers.)"
Oh boy. Shot down before I started! ;-)
Posted by: Bill R | April 24, 2007 at 01:54 PM
Bill R.,
The truth does hurt, doesn't it. ;-)
Posted by: GL | April 24, 2007 at 02:22 PM
Bill R.,
The truth does hurt, doesn't it? ;-)
Posted by: GL | April 24, 2007 at 02:23 PM
A random collection of momentary responses:
Stuart Koehl is Jack Ryan?
I could try to write longhand, but I wouldn't be able to read it later. I'm not sure that even Daniel Jackson could decipher it.I can draw letters just fine, even calligraphy, but I cannot write longhand legibly.
I tried the Palm Pilot - let the machine transcribe, and still have the tactile feel, but they threw that feature away with the Treos. (Treoi?)
There was a time when I knew how to write an essay. A time long past.
Stuart, I have been told that the rules for the comma have changed twice since I earned my undergrad. Is the panda with a gun book outdated, now? It is difficult for me not to use a comma everywhere I pause in speech.
GL, there are those things for which the book is better than the film. Fecal matter being one of them.
Sintered depleted uranium coating on cookware; what would the effects of heat distribution during the culinary process be?
Posted by: Labrialumn | April 24, 2007 at 02:30 PM
"What would the effects of heat distribution during the culinary process be?"
This is a fine example of focussing on the nonessentials. What you should be thinking about is how cool it would be when an enraged gunmen tries to blow you away while you're puttering away in the kitchen, only to have his bullets blocked by your deft use of a saucepan. Instead, you're thinking about the long-term health effects of eating food cooked in the thing? Where's your head, man?!
Posted by: Gene Godbold | April 24, 2007 at 02:37 PM
Now that you mention commas, the thread could stretch to 300 entries.
I am an old-fashioned comma-lover (favor hyphens, too), so, Labrialumn, don't be cowed by anti-tradionalists, who are trying to rid written English of upper-case letters, commas, and most other punctuation, including the Oxford comma.
Posted by: kate | April 24, 2007 at 02:45 PM
Okay, I'll bite, what's an Oxford comma as opposed to just a regular one?
Posted by: Gene Godbold | April 24, 2007 at 02:53 PM
>>>Sintered depleted uranium coating on cookware; what would the effects of heat distribution during the culinary process be?<<<
Can you sinter DU? It's not an oxide, so it would be hard to reduce it to a powder. Usually it is heated to melting temperature in a furnace and cast. Uranium is dense but not hard, so there's always the risk of scratching off the coating with the cookware and ingesting it. Though the stuff isn't radioactive, it is toxic.
Could I interest you in some titanium oxide ceramic coating?
>>>This is a fine example of focussing on the nonessentials. What you should be thinking about is how cool it would be when an enraged gunmen tries to blow you away while you're puttering away in the kitchen, only to have his bullets blocked by your deft use of a saucepan. Instead, you're thinking about the long-term health effects of eating food cooked in the thing? Where's your head, man?!<<<
Assuming you could lift it. Rolled homogeneous steel armor has an areal density of 40 psf (the weight of a 1 foot square of the stuff), and DU is about twice as dense, so even a medium-size skillet would weigh as much as a bag of sakcrete.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 24, 2007 at 03:09 PM
Dear Gene,
The Oxford comma is the comma after the pentultimate entry in a series. Thus, "Joe sang, danced, ate, slept, and prayed" has an Oxford comma; "Joe sang, danced, ate, slept and prayed" omits it. I'm all in favor of the O.c. myself.
Dear Bill,
Alas, you missed *my* point -- a fountain pen in my hands would explode all over me like an improvised roadside device in Iraq.
On a different topic, for those of you who have kindly been praying for me regarding my medical woes --
I've just been informed that, before my HMO will approve the implantation of a neurotransmitter device in my spine to relieve my assorted pains there (herniated disc, arthritis, etc.), I must first undergo a psychiatric examination. Now I'm toast -- what psychiatrist would ever give *me* a pass??? (God definitely has a sense of humor!)
Posted by: James A. Altena | April 24, 2007 at 03:30 PM
All right, Kate, since other folks seem to prefer talking about armor-plated cookware, I'll answer about the Oxford comma. It's the comma before the "and" at the end of a list of items.
For example, "Here at General Dynamics cookware division we sell skillets made of iron, steel, ceramic, and depleted uranium." (The last comma in the sentence is an Oxford comma)
Some scurrilous upstarts argue that the Oxford comma should be omitted, on the supposition that the other commas stand in for omitted "and"s, but the final "and" is still there.
Not only is the logic of that argument false, as the comma actually indicates a speaking pause which naturally occurs even before the "and," but sometimes the Oxford comma is vitally necessary for clarifying the meaning of a complex list.
For example: "My favorite foods are liver and onions, ham and beans, peanut butter and jelly and sauerkraut."
And Oxford comma would help that sentence out immensely.
ADDENDUM: Does anyone know if there is a correct way to pluralize words referred to as words and surrounded by quotations (my "and"s botch above)?
ADDENDUM 2: Does anyone know of any usages named after Cambridge? If there aren't any, I think I'll make one up.
Posted by: Ethan Cordray | April 24, 2007 at 03:43 PM
Oops! Gene, not Kate. D'oh. (The Homeric apostrophe)
Posted by: Ethan Cordray | April 24, 2007 at 03:45 PM
>>And Oxford comma<<
These grammatical threads make me so nervous I make mistakes. Imagine if I were in front of a church court!
Posted by: Ethan Cordray | April 24, 2007 at 03:47 PM
James, only one piece of advice for your psychiatric exam:
The most important thing is sincerity. Once you can fake that, you've got it made.
Posted by: Ethan Cordray | April 24, 2007 at 03:51 PM
"I've just been informed that, before my HMO will approve the implantation of a neurotransmitter device in my spine to relieve my assorted pains there (herniated disc, arthritis, etc.), I must first undergo a psychiatric examination. Now I'm toast -- what psychiatrist would ever give *me* a pass???"
Don't worry, James. If you fail the test, they'll just move the neurotransmitter a bit, um, northward.
"These grammatical threads make me so nervous I make mistakes. Imagine if I were in front of a church court!"
Ethan, they wouldn't be examining your grammar. You have to be impotent BEFORE they examine you....
Posted by: Bill R | April 24, 2007 at 04:03 PM
In reply to my:
>>>This is a fine example of focussing on the nonessentials. What you should be thinking about is how cool it would be when an enraged gunmen tries to blow you away while you're puttering away in the kitchen, only to have his bullets blocked by your deft use of a saucepan. Instead, you're thinking about the long-term health effects of eating food cooked in the thing? Where's your head, man?!<<<
Stuart writes:
Assuming you could lift it. Rolled homogeneous steel armor has an areal density of 40 psf (the weight of a 1 foot square of the stuff), and DU is about twice as dense, so even a medium-size skillet would weigh as much as a bag of sakcrete.
How many screenwriters would have to abandon promising scripts if they chopped logic and injected needless facts into their thinking like you and my brother do? Pictures like "The Hulk" and "Eraser" (my personal favorite) would never have gotten made, at a tremendous cost to society. As it so happens, I think *I* could easily swing a smallish saucepan liberally swathed in depleted uranium to block bullets from a mad gunman if he were to invade my kitchen while I was cooking. I would also try to bend my knees in homage) to Linda Carter while doing so. (She was the original blocker of bullets with small metal things, I think.)
Also thanks for posts on the Oxford comma. I used to use it, but I've since abandoned it. Ethan's example definitely calls for it, though.
Posted by: Gene Godbold | April 24, 2007 at 04:19 PM
"Dear Bill, Alas, you missed *my* point -- a fountain pen in my hands would explode all over me like an improvised roadside device in Iraq."
That only happens, James, when you embarrass your pen.
Posted by: Bill R | April 24, 2007 at 04:27 PM
I decided to see if Unfit for Marriage is available through Amazon, and by golly it is. Not only that, but lo and behold (not "low" and no pun intended, at least not initially), the front cover actually has an illustration depicting the "intimate physical examination" of a party to the proceedings.
There is one editorial review, authored by Stanley H. Brandes, professor and chair of Department of Anthropology, University of California, Berkeley, who wrote, "For an early modern European history, the book is surprisingly sexy, while maintaining a dignified level of discourse." Glad to here it. There is, however, no customer reviews yet, so any of you can "[b]e the first person to review this item."
Posted by: GL | April 24, 2007 at 04:40 PM
"There is, however, no customer reviews yet, so any of you can "[b]e the first person to review this item.""
I think we should leave that to Ethan.
Posted by: Bill R | April 24, 2007 at 04:43 PM
>>>How many screenwriters would have to abandon promising scripts if they chopped logic and injected needless facts into their thinking like you and my brother do? <<<
From Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "Goodbye, Iowa" (2000)
Willow, Anya and Buffy in bed watching television. Wiley Coyote drops a wrecking ball on a chain. The ball
misses the Roadrunner and instead of stopping halfway up, continues in a full circle, taking out Wiley Coyote.
Buffy: That would never happen.
Willow: Well, no Buff, that's why they call them cartoons, not documentaries.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 24, 2007 at 05:26 PM
>>>I am young--keep sharpening me. I have yet to run across a feeble mind from the faithful posters of this blog.<<<
Hmm, well, as to your youth, you're a year older than I am, and I may be the first feeble-minded person you'll find here;)
GL, the editorial review of Unfit For Marriage doesn't seem to me to be the best possible advertisement for the book; what are sexiness and early modern European History supposed to have to do with each other, unless one is discussing, say Catherine de Medicis and her Flying Squadron, or the misspent youth of Louise de la Vallière? And sexiness and intimate examiation by church court? Those go together like jelly and sauerkraut.
Ethan, as Cambridge cannot possibly be as good as the university which produced both Tolkien and Lewis, I hereby rename the lack of an Oxford comma where one ought to be used the Cambridge Un-comma.
Is is permissible to use more than one semicolon in a sentence other than when one is using the semicolons to list things?
Posted by: luthien (the adverb addict) | April 24, 2007 at 09:58 PM
"Ethan, as Cambridge cannot possibly be as good as the university which produced both Tolkien and Lewis, I hereby rename the lack of an Oxford comma where one ought to be used the Cambridge Un-comma."
Well, Lewis became a Cambridge don when Oxford refused to do him the honors. I really think he found Cambridge much more congenial. The latter was much kinder to him as well. When my daughter was studying at Cambridge a few years back, she found a small back-street shop that proudly advertised itself as "C.S. Lewis's barber"!
Posted by: Bill R | April 24, 2007 at 10:52 PM
Gene, no, I just wondered if things would cook evenly or not, that's all. ;-)
Hmm, Homeric apostrophe. Surely in Homer, that would be a breathing mark? ;-)
Posted by: Labrialumn | April 24, 2007 at 11:07 PM
I had a writing professor who would take each of our essays in turn, project them up on the wall of the classroom, run a word count, and then announce that we were going to cut that word count in half, while keeping the message of the essay intact.
Amazing thing was, we could almost always do it. That professor taught me the meaning of "unnecessary verbage."
Posted by: Jessica Snell | April 25, 2007 at 12:13 AM
>>From Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "Goodbye, Iowa" (2000)
Willow, Anya and Buffy in bed watching television. Wiley Coyote drops a wrecking ball on a chain. The ball
misses the Roadrunner and instead of stopping halfway up, continues in a full circle, taking out Wiley Coyote.
Buffy: That would never happen.
Willow: Well, no Buff, that's why they call them cartoons, not documentaries.<<
A nod in the direction of Buffy automatically makes this the most meaningful--and, to be unnecessarily "hip" in a trite, youth ministry sort of way, relevant--thread in recent memory. Quality television is hard to encounter.
Speaking of good writing, I intentionally used the word "encounter" above in order to avoid placing a preposition at the end of a sentence, which using the phrase "come by" would have done. What do ye fine Mere Comments regulars say to this practice?
Luthien--
I wonder really if you are a year younger than me or only a matter of months. More importantly, however, a feeble mind is not the result of age, nor is it the fault of education. There are many mentally and intellectually capable seven-year-olds who need little more than the proper knowledge--that is factual information--to use as a tool. A feeble mind is the result of simple disuse; one's capacities atrophy. Thus, I expect you to sharpen me as well. Even if you are younger, it does not make me old or any less impressionable and teachable. (What makes me less impressionable and teachable isn't age; it's plain ego.)
Posted by: Michael | April 25, 2007 at 02:21 AM
I intentionally used the word "encounter" above in order to avoid placing a preposition at the end of a sentence, which using the phrase "come by" would have done.
Winston Churchill's comment on the practice: "This is something up with which I will not put."
Posted by: Judy Warner | April 25, 2007 at 05:54 AM
"It was a dark and stormy night".
"In the middle of the journey of our life, I came to myself in a dark wood, for the straight way was lost."
Posted by: Judy Warner | April 25, 2007 at 06:06 AM
Michael, I only turned 18 at the beginning of Lent; you're quite right about teachability, etc.
Posted by: luthien (the adverb addict) | April 25, 2007 at 08:27 AM
All y'all younguns are making me feel like a fogey at 23. I don't mind, though. I've said that my greatest ambition in life is to be older, and it's the one goal that I'm certain to reach if I just wait around long enough.
Luthien, the semicolon used in a list is my prime candidate for dubbing a Cambridge semicolon. Rarer than the Oxford comma, to be sure, but useful in its own way.
My impression of Oxford and Cambridge mirrors Lewis'. Granted, mine is based on three weeks at Oxford and one day at Cambridge, so maybe I'm not quite as authoritative as the he is...
GL and Bill, as fascinating as the book sounds, I don't want to scandalize my mother with a cover like that! And I think the illustration bears out my previous point.
Posted by: Ethan Cordray | April 25, 2007 at 09:05 AM
I recall the old Guinness Book of World Records had an entry for the sentence ending with the most prepositions. A young boy complains to his mother about her mentioning a book about Australia, "What did you bring that story about Down Under up for?"
Posted by: Reid | April 25, 2007 at 09:20 AM
>>>Luthien, the semicolon used in a list is my prime candidate for dubbing a Cambridge semicolon. Rarer than the Oxford comma, to be sure, but useful in its own way.<<<
The most useful application of the semi-colon, whether correct or not, is as a divider in a long list of items that includes multiple internal commas.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | April 25, 2007 at 09:21 AM
Random responses while I procrastinate from more paper-grading:
"The most useful application of the semi-colon, whether correct or not, is as a divider in a long list of items that includes multiple internal commas." This has been accepted usage in every handbook I've ever seen in a very long career in studying and teaching English. Other than this use, Luthien, in American English the semicolon should be reserved to separate independent clauses that don't use a coordinating conjunction. The Brits, however, are much laxer, using the semicolon as a "strong comma" rather frequently and thereby causing some angst for students analyzing their prose in grammar classes on this side of the ocean . . . See Lewis for multiple examples.
Prepositions: The "rule" that one should not use a preposition at the end of a sentence comes from placing English into a Latinate grammar model. In Latin, one cannot split infinitives or put prepositions at the ends of sentences because their meanings are (generally or always -- it's been awhile since I studied Latin) contained within other words themselves (the forms of words show these relationships). In English, the infinitive form usually includes two words -- "to" and the verb -- and prepositional meanings occur always as separate words. So you can indeed split infinitives -- and sometimes it is much clearer and sounds better when you do -- and put prepositions at the ends of sentences.
The guideline I suggest to students concerning these practices has to do with level of formality -- if you are writing formally, avoid them as a rule because your audience will expect you to do so; if you are writing more informally (such as blog posts!), there is no reason to go out of your way to do so. As one of my graduate professors was always saying, "Context is everything." And clarity is always most important, in any case. As Orwell says in "Politics and the English Language," "Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous."
Cutting drafts in half -- this is a great exercise in discovering just how flabby most of our writing is. I keep thinking I've gotten a bit of a handle on conciseness, then I send something to an editor like Ed Veith or David Mills and find out how far I still have to go. Because I will do little editing of this post, I shudder to think how much excess verbiage it will contain!
Some of you have talked about not writing multiple drafts, and I applaud your ability to do so, as I see by your comments here you are able to be lucid and organized. I wonder how much that part of the process has to do with a) how easily one thinks ideas through before putting pen to paper, b) how familiar the subject matter already is, and c) the genre of writing.
I can write a report on something within my discipline or in a subject I've studied a great deal without a great many drafts (though I edit my work extensively and will almost always have more than one just because of that). However, when I am writing a book review or a piece of creative non-fiction or a meditation/reflective piece, there is no way I can write it without multiple drafts -- the writing itself is part of my process of thinking the ideas through, figuring out exactly what it is I really believe about the matter, and beginning to find a focus and a logical structure for it all.
For me, writing is the way I process my world, and I can't do it nearly as effectively by talking or "just" thinking about things. I simply don't "see" ideas clearly until they begin to take shape on the page. And there is the fact that I am usually, if it's not work-related, trying to do more than just make an idea clear; in certain kinds of prose the form is as important in conveying meaning as it is in poetry.
I would assume that personality also plays a role in what process works best for individual writers.
And re: fountain pens again -- I love mine, and I find, as someone said, that it helps me slow down and write more legibly. I can't use it on student papers (bleeds through), but I'm using it to try to re-train myself to be legible with other writing instruments too. Besides, they are simply lovely, especially when writing a letter to a friend -- something I wish I had more time to do.
Posted by: Beth | April 25, 2007 at 10:29 AM
Thank you, Beth. What I was trying to ask was, may one legitimately do this: "separate independent clauses that don't use a coordinating conjunction [by using a semicolon]" more than once in the same sentence? If it's not permissible, I shall have to adopt an British accent and tell everyone I'm from Oxford, so I can continue my overindulgence in semicolons with relative impunity. Such a change would also carry the advantage of letting me use British spellings, which are generally better looking. Doesn't colour seem more colorful than color?
Posted by: luthien (the adverb addict) | April 25, 2007 at 11:21 AM
"And re: fountain pens again -- I love mine, and I find, as someone said, that it helps me slow down and write more legibly. I can't use it on student papers (bleeds through), but I'm using it to try to re-train myself to be legible with other writing instruments too. Besides, they are simply lovely, especially when writing a letter to a friend -- something I wish I had more time to do."
A fountain pen teaches one to love the words, even the very letters, that one writes. It makes writing a very intimate, personal affair. For those of you who have only used a ballpoint or a felt-tipped pen, you really have missed one of life's little licit pleasures.
Posted by: Bill R | April 25, 2007 at 12:00 PM
Ah, yes, Luthien. I love British spellings -- too much immersion in Victorian literature, perhaps! "Grey" is such a more beautiful "colour" than "gray"; a "theatre" is surely more exotic than a mere "theater"; and using more than one semicolon in a sentence with several independent clauses is perfectly all right, though I wouldn't recommend more than 2 or 3, just to avoid overtaxing your reader . . . which I have no doubt just done without any further semicolons. :-) (And you don't always need the "and" I used between the last two clauses, but it seemed to help since I was changing topics rather radically from the first two to the third . . .)
Posted by: Beth | April 25, 2007 at 12:25 PM