Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Smitten When Written

I commented on a person's blog, after a particularly well-written post, that she had written nothing that would lead me to believe that she'd not written great papers in college (a claim she made). In response, she said that she wished I had been on her college English staff.

I've actually occasionally thought about doing that. I never would, because I'm not a liberal arts kind of guy, and because my idea of great writing doesn't involve most of what's considered to be great. But I do put great emphasis on writing (something you may find hard to believe given the brief and ad-hoc nature of these posts), and on writing well. I can get almost weak when I read something that's written lucidly and with a clear thrust, with no side trips or excursions along the way. I like good writing. And like pornography, I find it difficult to describe, but easy to recognize.

It can't be pretentious, I know that. In other words, if it sounds as if William F. Buckley wrote it, then forget it. When you're reading something, and you're struck with how precious the writing is, then the writing itself is getting in the way of the message. An example: most people don't use the word eleemosynary, which is one that he likes to toss around. There are audiences who are comfortable with that word, and if you're writing for them, then fine. But in most cases, that word will stick out like a gold bar in a pile of thread, and it'll stop the reader dead. The writer isn't there to impress the reader with his knowledge of Obscure Words of the English Language, but to entrance him with ideas, with imagery, with eloquence.

Eloquence. Writing can be plain, and be perfectly acceptable, but it can also be eloquent, elegant and charming.Sentences aren't dump trucks, to be filled with meaning and trundled down the road, spilling gravel along the way. Choice of the right word can change the impact from the glimmering glow of a lightning bug to the brilliant blast of a lightning bolt. (No, that's not my analogy. But I like it.) I'm not advocating searching endlessly for le mot juste (like that? A little pretentiousness of my own). I'd like the perfect word, but not if it means forgetting what point I was trying to make. Choose a good word and keep going. Once you're done, you can go back and rewrite, if you want (a message my daughter steadfastly ignores in her school writing). But stopping the whole creative train until the most excellent word possible pops into your mind -- ah, no. Make your point, and move on. Keep the train moving.

However it's written, the writing has to be worthwhile. It has to acknowledge that the reader has many things to do, and this reading thing eliminates most of them, so it has to be worthy of their time. I think that a lot of folks feel that once they've started something -- an article, a book -- they've got to finish it (I know I did, for the longest time). That's okay, but if the reader gets to the end of what you wrote and thinks I wasted my time on THAT? -- they're going to be angry. Last time I read anything by THAT idiot. Better keep them happy. Don't talk down, I'm not saying that --but readers are doing you a favor. Make it worth their while. Keep the content focused, keep it on target. Remember what you want to say, get it down, make sure its right.

All by themselves, that's a pretty stern list to meet. I know that good writing is more than that. I just can't explain it. I know I don't always do it, myself. In fact, usually not.

But I know it when I see it.

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