| Food for Thought: *sigh* What I Lack, You Know? |
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Oh, there is much to say. Much. It brings tears to my eyes. Foreword You would think, if I had even the slightest modicum of decorum, that when people comment on my writing, I would blink blankly and say, "Oh, but that's not really special." And I do, but it's not true and I know it. But the demon should be accounted for, and however tight-lipped magicians may be, I am not a magician. Audience There was once a time when this site was simply meant for me to write and simply that. But easy self-indulgence has since become impossible. There's an audience and I can't shoo it away—for better or for worse, I have not an inkling. I can't help but write to myself; agonizing over another's opinion is a headache. You forget the actual writing and only care for the opinion and something is lost. It is not merely that the distraction impairs, but it doesn't seem natural somehow, like trying to breathe at an arbitrary rhythym. "Educated but ignorant" audience? That's not whom you should write for (if you don't know, then you don't know). Plainly, the writing has nothing but callous indifference for the audience. Very sorry. Puissance I'd say that there's a certain power to it. It's not just being master of an ability few people have. You, oh reader, are at my mercy. You cannot, you CANNOT read what I don't want you to read, and you must be resolute and force it down. Of course, you can read something else but then you're at the mercy of another writer, are you not? That is not to say that writers are evil and have but the vilest machinations brewing in their pens. Since the direction is up the writer, who is a fully separate individual from you after all, he/she'll lead you places you'd never have ventured a thought into. You just cannot... become too trusting. There's another power, too; one which excludes the reader. Writing is a creation process, and basking in the satisfaction of godhood is a common pitfall (Hawthorne). It's... very difficult, to create a believable character—one who lives and breathes and suffers and rejoices without ever reminding you that, in fact, he lives in a book. People in real life are complex enough; try capturing one with words (which are very powerful, but only the right ones). And... you never fully succeed. Language is imperfect, and does not have the capacity to completely transpose a human being. Even a fictional character is by nature tainted. The author's biases restrict him to the words chosen (a character can do everything a real person does, except live. And how do you put that into words?). Real people know no such literary binds (many other binds, though... but the words are not at fault here). Art I don't think anyone's going to repute me if I say that writing is art, the way that biology is a science. And art is... art is truth. Guernica is not the aesthetic pleasure of Raphael, but see if you can deny it. It doesn't really matter at all what you do. You could never use a four-syllable word and still create a masterpiece. Faulkner once made fun of Hemingway: "He has never been known to use a word that might send the reader to the dictionary." To which Hemingway retorted: "Does he really think big emotions come from big words? He thinks I don't know the ten-dollar words... there are older and simpler and better words, and those are the ones I use."* So in the end, style is nothing. A means to an end, if you will. Worth Everything. I can't describe it, even. This where I get misty and blather about ineffable whatnot. Haven't you ever become unspeakably thirsty and felt the sandpaper acidity of your throat consume your very being? Then, the first drop of ice-cold water? Schematics There is one, and only one thing you need. Talent. Without it, you can be good, but you can't be great. Virtuosity is done without conscious nitpicking. You need the natural flair... the ability to do the following subconsciously (because these *are* the fundamentals, after all... an artist goes beyond the fundamentals). Vocabulary is important, but not knowing words, but knowing them. You've heard it before: the subtle nuances in meaning, "word choice". It's not at all that simple. Words have flavor, too. Their aesthetic mien and their rhythym. Definition is not so simple as mere dictionaries or thesauri. You can have exact synonyms with all the selfsame connotations and yet they look distinct and therefore *are* distinct. And words are versatile... "same" can mean "identical" and also "unchanged"—don't go crazy; revel in the ambiguity. And another thing... swears, jargon, slang... who gives a rat's ass? To quote the old adage: "Variety is the spice of life". But words rarely stand alone. So again you return to meaning and evaluate the word's sociability—how well it plays with other words. Context is more important than definition, but of course, the former encloses the latter. Syntax, parts of speech, sentence structure (positive? negative? mood? person? what, what?). Melody is more important here. Flow is everything. Punctuation. Mmm... I've tortured myself over the inclusion of a comma before. On the word level, the punctuation is about grammar (ie. "it's" vs "its"). But once the sentence emerges, it's about flow, baby. Just remember, if you try very hard, you will break their souls, the words'. Grammar. I do love it. And I am far too obsessive, yes, I know. Stick to good grammar. It is more pleasing. I fly rather well. Find eloquence with whomever you speak. I, too, enjoy two cups of tea to drink every sunny morning. I wish I were an elephant. ^_^ You don't have to know what a conjunctive adverb is, or be able to answer my question: "Can a clause be appositive, and if it is, would comma usage be viewed as a comma splice?" Basic grammar is hardly an injustice. Just place the punctuation correctly... I like em dashes—formal, yet parenthetical loophole. Also fond of ellipses, but informal, as you can see. Colons are excellent, but cannot be used with great frequency. Commas are rampant as grass, but they, too, have their place. An adoration for footnotes must be professed, though that has little to do with punctuation. I dislike standard formal English for two reasons: I believe that one's vocabulary should not be restricted to politically correct, fancy pansy words. Using "one" is a pain in the ass. I can deal with the "no contractions" rule, but informality adds interest to the writing. Words are like lemmings. If there are too many, you should run them to the sea. Stop using so many of them. We get your point already. These are NOT rules. They are typicalities. Do otherwise every now and then, for the sheer joy of it. Formulas... well, you're a fool to think there are any. You can't get away with mere writing. It may be pretty, and I've certainly bs-ed my way through a fair share of As with aesthetics and aesthetics alone. But it does not replace substance. It's important. You think, "Oh, this is very pretty, but what's the point? Did I just waste my time reading this nothing thing?" Beautiful writing has a joy in itself, but an essay cannot be mere fluff. And lastly, be interesting. Who wants to read a piece of crap? Watersheds With startling lucidity... The Messenger. A sonnet is very strict, as you know. So how do you say as it is within the confines of the sonnet? Flying with weighted wings—difficult yet awe-inspiring if you can. The answer is word choice and syntax. I had no idea. I always had done free-form poetry before. It was a while ago. I once wrote something on quelling the "inner beast", referring to The Lord of the Flies. It was written rather colloquially, and suddenly I realized that no one wants to read a stuffy essay. What my first one-page essay taught me: be concise. Holden Caulfield is most likely the most accurate, true-to-life characterization I've ever read. Reading The Sound and the Fury: I don't ever want to read it again. It made me disgusted, depressed, sorrowful, remorseful, pitying, livid, aghast... yeesh, everything awful. But I learned, that one, pleasantness is inconsequential for good writing. Two, jotting down notes in the book itself lends greater introspection. Three, the joys of abstract writing. Crime and Punishment. Reading books translated from other languages is wholly unsatisfying. Therefore, become a polyglot. You can't help an awe for one such as Tolkein... his aren't the best characters, but the vast world of his creation has an immense history, languages, folklore... genesis from absolute scratch and it's dumbfounding The "ARP" (Analytical Research Paper, freshman year) told me that knowing what to write, even if you don't have an outline, or drafts, or anything, just knowing, having a plan, the shit will come together. Itinerary It's a gift. Maybe it *is* like composing music, or painting a picture. Maybe you think of the things above and compute the correct formula for writing. But I don't. What writing—the process, I mean—is like for me, is a journey. The destination doesn't really figure; you already know. It's the scenery along the way: the unexpected casts of light, the foliage, the other vagrants. And if you finish and are surprised by what you have created, then all is well. *Encarta® Book of Quotations. Microsoft Corporation, 1999. |
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