Pet Monologues - Forum: Writers

mdoonan on But I'm not a writer!

Sun, 14 Sep 2008 09:06:39 -0500

Have you figured out what you are? I know that you have no idea who I am, but I too am having trouble comitting to my passions. Wondering how you have come out of it?

M

NorahH said:

So I’ve been sitting here for a solid hour and a half, maybe more, glossed over and staring at the screen in an attempt to write something without deleting it 4 seconds later. After writing over 60 pages in the past two weeks, I’d like to blame it on finals, but this has always been my problem — the failure to confidently plop down words on paper without the expectation of further failure.

It’s completely counterproductive, I know, writing and writing with nothing to show for it, which explains why my portfolio consists of a meager handful of poems and Spoken Word pieces (despite the fact that I never claim being a poet, it seems that’s all I can attest to). There’s a folder of half finished short stories I’m too afraid to touch, a collection of slightly above average blog posts for inspiration, and a love letter I wrote to an ex-boyfriend that I’d never let anyone read, but nevertheless remains one of my better pieces.

I am not a writer. I say the words aloud to hear how it sounds. I am not a writer. Writers write. I only talk about writing. I am a failed writer — a failed creative writer, at least. Newspaper articles and columns I have up the wazoo, that much is true. I am a journalist. But I am not a writer in the sense that I want to be.

It might be that writing as a journalist has impeded my ability to write creatively. I fear letting emotion flow freely through my words because I fear others will correctly interpret those feelings, and because of that I have come to fear words loaded with personal bias. Only recently I’ve been able to admit that I’m more emotional than I like to think, and as a reporter that bears all sorts of eyebrow-raising implications.

I know in part it’s because I’m afraid, period. Mostly afraid that everyone thinks I’m some emo MySpace-esque blogger who thinks she can write but can’t, which is frankly why I put so much time and effort into sounding rational and removing myself from the colloquial. I depend on the praise of others in a way that is crippling. You are my crutch, readers, especially a select few of you whose opinions matter more than they should, and I’m scared that you think I suck, quite plainly. You see, I am as needy for your hearts as I am your eyes.

At any rate, for all those reasons and then some, I’ve stopped writing — here and elsewhere — altogether.

I am not a writer. It really hurts to say those words. For a long time now, I’ve lusted after finishing a solid story, yearned for that final connection between words and essence. But I’ve realized I can’t commit. I’m too afraid to put my whole heart in it, and this stigma of being emotional stalks every sentence. I think I am being far too emotional right now, even. So until I come to terms with it, sorry. Loving something isn’t quite the same as being good at something. I just can’t commit.

So if I’m not a writer, what am I? Not occupationally but essentially speaking, that is. It’s hard to tell. All I know is: I’m not the great literary-artist-in-the-making I thought I was.

I’m just crazy Zelda who’ll never be as good as the original Fitzgerald.

found at http://witandspit.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-am-not-writer.html

NorahH on Kurt Vonnegut: How to write with style

Fri, 08 Aug 2008 06:20:13 -0500

Here is very interesting and useful advice from Kurt Vonnegut...

Newspaper reporters and technical writers are trained to reveal almost nothing about themselves in their writings. This makes them freaks in the world of writers, since almost all of the other ink-stained wretches in that world reveal a lot about themselves to readers. We call these revelations, accidental and intentional, elements of style.

These revelations tell us as readers what sort of person it is with whom we are spending time. Does the writer sound ignorant or informed, stupid or bright, crooked or honest, humorless or playful-- ? And on and on.

Why should you examine your writing style with the idea of improving it? Do so as a mark of respect for your readers, whatever you're writing. If you scribble your thoughts any which way, your readers will surely feel that you care nothing about them. They will mark you down as an egomaniac or a chowderhead --- or, worse, they will stop reading you.

The most damning revelation you can make about yourself is that you do not know what is interesting and what is not. Don't you yourself like or dislike writers mainly for what they choose to show you or make you think about? Did you ever admire an emptyheaded writer for his or her mastery of the language? No.

So your own winning style must begin with ideas in your head.

1. Find a subject you care about

Find a subject you care about and which you in your heart feel others should care about. It is this genuine caring, and not your games with language, which will be the most compelling and seductive element in your style.

I am not urging you to write a novel, by the way --- although I would not be sorry if you wrote one, provided you genuinely cared about something. A petition to the mayor about a pothole in front of your house or a love letter to the girl next door will do.

2. Do not ramble, though

I won't ramble on about that.

3. Keep it simple

As for your use of language: Remember that two great masters of language, William Shakespeare and James Joyce, wrote sentences which were almost childlike when their subjects were most profound. "To be or not to be?" asks Shakespeare's Hamlet. The longest word is three letters long. Joyce, when he was frisky, could put together a sentence as intricate and as glittering as a necklace for Cleopatra, but my favorite sentence in his short story "Eveline" is this one: "She was tired." At that point in the story, no other words could break the heart of a reader as those three words do.

Simplicity of language is not only reputable, but perhaps even sacred. The Bible opens with a sentence well within the writing skills of a lively fourteen-year-old: "In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth."

4. Have guts to cut

It may be that you, too, are capable of making necklaces for Cleopatra, so to speak. But your eloquence should be the servant of the ideas in your head. Your rule might be this: If a sentence, no matter how excellent, does not illuminate your subject in some new and useful way, scratch it out.

5. Sound like yourself

The writing style which is most natural for you is bound to echo the speech you heard when a child. English was Conrad's third language, and much that seems piquant in his use of English was no doubt colored by his first language, which was Polish. And lucky indeed is the writer who has grown up in Ireland, for the English spoken there is so amusing and musical. I myself grew up in Indianapolis, where common speech sounds like a band saw cutting galvanized tin, and employs a vocabulary as unornamental as a monkey wrench.

In some of the more remote hollows of Appalachia, children still grow up hearing songs and locutions of Elizabethan times. Yes, and many Americans grow up hearing a language other than English, or an English dialect a majority of Americans cannot understand.

All these varieties of speech are beautiful, just as the varieties of butterflies are beautiful. No matter what your first language, you should treasure it all your life. If it happens to not be standard English, and if it shows itself when your write standard English, the result is usually delightful, like a very pretty girl with one eye that is green and one that is blue.

I myself find that I trust my own writing most, and others seem to trust it most, too, when I sound most like a person from Indianapolis, which is what I am. What alternatives do I have? The one most vehemently recommended by teachers has no doubt been pressed on you, as well: to write like cultivated Englishmen of a century or more ago.

6. Say what you mean

I used to be exasperated by such teachers, but am no more. I understand now that all those antique essays and stories with which I was to compare my own work were not magnificent for their datedness or foreignness, but for saying precisely what their authors meant them to say. My teachers wished me to write accurately, always selecting the most effective words, and relating the words to one another unambiguously, rigidly, like parts of a machine. The teachers did not want to turn me into an Englishman after all. They hoped that I would become understandable --- and therefore understood. And there went my dream of doing with words what Pablo Picasso did with paint or what any number of jazz idols did with music. If I broke all the rules of punctuation, had words mean whatever I wanted them to mean, and strung them together higgledy-piggledy, I would simply not be understood. So you, too, had better avoid Picasso-style or jazz-style writing, if you have something worth saying and wish to be understood.

Readers want our pages to look very much like pages they have seen before. Why? This is because they themselves have a tough job to do, and they need all the help they can get from us.

7. Pity the readers

They have to identify thousands of little marks on paper, and make sense of them immediately. They have to read, an art so difficult that most people don't really master it even after having studied it all through grade school and high school --- twelve long years.

So this discussion must finally acknowledge that our stylistic options as writers are neither numerous nor glamorous, since our readers are bound to be such imperfect artists. Our audience requires us to be sympathetic and patient readers, ever willing to simplify and clarify --- whereas we would rather soar high above the crowd, singing like nightingales.

That is the bad news. The good news is that we Americans are governed under a unique Constitution, which allows us to write whatever we please without fear of punishment. So the most meaningful aspect of our styles, which is what we choose to write about, is utterly unlimited.

8. For really detailed advice

For a discussion of literary style in a narrower sense, in a more technical sense, I recommend to your attention The Elements of Style, by William Strunk, Jr. and E.B. White. E.B. White is, of course, one of the most admirable literary stylists this country has so far produced.

You should realize, too, that no one would care how well or badly Mr. White expressed himself, if he did not have perfectly enchanting things to say.

In Sum:

1. Find a subject you care about

2. Do not ramble, though

3. Keep it simple

4. Have guts to cut

5. Sound like yourself

6. Say what you mean

7. Pity the readers

NorahH on 101 Writing Tips

Mon, 17 Mar 2008 09:35:55 -0500

1. Every sentence should make sense in isolation. Like that one.
2. Excessive hyperbole is literally the kiss of death.
3. ASBMAETP: Acronyms Should Be Memorable And Easy To Pronounce, and SATAN: Select Acronyms That Are Non-offensive.
4. Finish your point on an up-beat note, unless you can’t think of one.
5. Don’t patronise the reader-he or she might well be intelligent enough to spot it.
6. A writer needs three qualities: creativity, originality, clarity and a good short term memory.
7. Choose your words carefully and incitefully.
8. Avoid unnecessary examples; e.g. this one.
9. Don’t use commas, to separate text unnecessarily.
10. It can be shown that you shouldn’t miss out too many details.
11. Similes are about as much use as a chocolate teapot.
12. Avoid ugly abr’v'ns.
13. Spellcheckers are not perfect; they can kiss my errs.
14. Somebody once said that all quotes should be accurately attributed.
15. Americanisms suck.
16. Capitalising for emphasis is UGLY and DISTRACTING.
17. Underlining is also a big no-no.
18. Mixed metaphors can kill two birds without a paddle.
19. Before using a cliché, run it up the flagpole and see if anybody salutes.
20. There is one cheap gimmick that should be avoided at all costs…………..suspense.
21. State your opinions forcefully-this is perhaps the key to successful writing.
22. Never reveal your sources (Alistair Watson, 1993).
23. Pile on lots of subtlety.
24. Sure signs of lazy writing are incomplete lists, etc.
25. Introduce meaningless jargon on a strict need-to-know basis.
26. The word “gullible” possesses magic powers and hence it should be used with care.
27. The importance of comprehensive cross-referencing will be covered elsewhere.
28. Resist the temptation to roll up the trouser-legs of convention, cast off the shoes and socks of good taste, and dip your toes refreshingly into the cool, flowing waters of fanciful analogy.
29. Don’t mess with Mr. Anthropomorphism.
30. Understatement is a mindblowingly effective weapon.
31. Injecting enthusiasm probably won’t do any harm.
32. It is nice to be important, but it is more important to avoid using the word `nice.’
33. Appropriate metaphors are worth their weight in gold.
34. Take care with pluri.
35. If you can’t think of the exact word that you need, look it up in one of those dictionary-type things.
36. Colons: try to do without them.
37. Nouns should never be verbed.
38. Do you really think people are impressed by rhetorical questions?
39. Pick a font, and stick with it.
40. Sufficient clarity is necessary, but not necessarily sufficient.
41. Less is more. This means that a short, cryptic statement is often preferable to an accurate, but drawn out, explanation that lacks punch and loses the reader.
42. Sarcasm-yes, I bet that will go down really well.
43. The problem of ambiguity cannot be underestimated.
44. Never appear cynical, unless you’re sure you can get away with it.
45. Many writer’s punctuate incorrectly.
46. Colloquialisms are for barmpots.
47. There is a lot to be said for brevity.
48. To qualify is to weaken, in most cases.
49. Many readers assume that a word will not assume two meanings in the same sentence.
50. Be spontaneous at regular intervals.
51. The era of the euphemism is sadly no longer with us.
52. Want to be funny? Just add some exclamation marks!!!
53. Want to appear whimsical? Simply append a smiley
54. Some writers introduce a large number, N, of unnecessary symbols.
55. Restrict your hyphen-usage.
56. Choosing the correct phrase is important compared to most things.
57. Some early drafts of this document had had clumsy juxtapositions.
58. Try not to leave a word dangling on its own
59. line.
60. The number of arbitrary constants per page should not exceed .13.
61. Use mathematical jargon iff it is absolutely necessary.
62. And avoid math symbols unless ? a good reason.
63. Poor writing effects the impact of your work.
64. And the dictionary on your shelf was not put there just for affect.
65. If there’s a word on the tip of your tongue that you can’t quite pin down, use a cinnamon.
66. If somebody were to give me a pound for every irrelevant statement I’ve ever read, then I would be very surprised.
67. Strangely enough, it is impossible to construct a sentence that illustrates the meaning of the word `irony.’
68. Consult a writing manual to assure that your English is correct.
69. It has been suggested that some words are absolute, not relative. This is very true.
70. Be careful when forming words into a sentence-all orderings are not correct.
71. Many words can ostensibly be deleted.
72. In your quest for clarity, stop at nothing.
73. Complete mastery of the English language comes with conscientious study, notwithstanding around in bars. Moreover the next page. Inasmuch detail as possible.
74. Sporting analogies won’t even get you to first base.
75. If you must quote, quote from one of the all-time greats (Cedric.P. Snodworthy, 1964).
76. In the absence of a dictionary, stick to words of one syllabus.
77. Steer clear of word-making-up-ism.
78. Readers will not stand for any intolerance.
79. If there’s one thing you must avoid it’s over-simplification.
80. Double entendres will get you in the end.
81. Vagueness is the root of miscommunication, in a sense.
82. Don’t bother with those “increase-your-word-power” books that cost an absorbent amount of money.
83. Self-contradiction is confusing, and yet strangely enlightening.
84. Surrealism without purpose is like fish.
85. Ignorance: good writers don’t even know the meaning of the word.
86. The spoken word can look strange when written down, I’m afraid.
87. Stimpy the Squirrel says “Don’t treat the reader like a little child.”
88. Intimidatory writing is for wimps.
89. Learn one new maths word every day, and you’ll soon find your vocabulary growing exponentially.
90. My old high school English teacher put it perfectly when she said: “Quoting is lazy. Express things in your own words.”
91. She also said: “Don’t use that trick of paraphrasing…… [other people’s words]…… inside a quote.”
92. A lack of compassion in a writer is unforgivable.
93. On a scale of 0 to 10, internal consistency is very important.
94. Thankfully, by the year 2016 rash predictions will be a thing of the past.
95. There is no place for overemphasis, whatsoever.
96. Leave out the David Hockney rhyming slang.
97. Bad writers are hopefully ashamed of themselves.
98. Eschew the highfalutin.
99. Sometimes you publish a sentence and then, on reflection, feel that you shouldn’t ought to have been and gone and written it quite that way.
100. Practice humility until you feel that you’re really good at it.
101. Grab some tea and start now!

NorahH on But I'm not a writer!

Sun, 17 Feb 2008 23:21:08 -0600

So I've been sitting here for a solid hour and a half, maybe more, glossed over and staring at the screen in an attempt to write something without deleting it 4 seconds later. After writing over 60 pages in the past two weeks, I'd like to blame it on finals, but this has always been my problem -- the failure to confidently plop down words on paper without the expectation of further failure.

It's completely counterproductive, I know, writing and writing with nothing to show for it, which explains why my portfolio consists of a meager handful of poems and Spoken Word pieces (despite the fact that I never claim being a poet, it seems that's all I can attest to). There's a folder of half finished short stories I'm too afraid to touch, a collection of slightly above average blog posts for inspiration, and a love letter I wrote to an ex-boyfriend that I'd never let anyone read, but nevertheless remains one of my better pieces.

I am not a writer. I say the words aloud to hear how it sounds. I am not a writer. Writers write. I only talk about writing. I am a failed writer -- a failed creative writer, at least. Newspaper articles and columns I have up the wazoo, that much is true. I am a journalist. But I am not a writer in the sense that I want to be.

It might be that writing as a journalist has impeded my ability to write creatively. I fear letting emotion flow freely through my words because I fear others will correctly interpret those feelings, and because of that I have come to fear words loaded with personal bias. Only recently I've been able to admit that I'm more emotional than I like to think, and as a reporter that bears all sorts of eyebrow-raising implications.

I know in part it's because I'm afraid, period. Mostly afraid that everyone thinks I'm some emo MySpace-esque blogger who thinks she can write but can't, which is frankly why I put so much time and effort into sounding rational and removing myself from the colloquial. I depend on the praise of others in a way that is crippling. You are my crutch, readers, especially a select few of you whose opinions matter more than they should, and I'm scared that you think I suck, quite plainly. You see, I am as needy for your hearts as I am your eyes.

At any rate, for all those reasons and then some, I've stopped writing -- here and elsewhere -- altogether.

I am not a writer. It really hurts to say those words. For a long time now, I've lusted after finishing a solid story, yearned for that final connection between words and essence. But I've realized I can't commit. I'm too afraid to put my whole heart in it, and this stigma of being emotional stalks every sentence. I think I am being far too emotional right now, even. So until I come to terms with it, sorry. Loving something isn't quite the same as being good at something. I just can't commit.

So if I'm not a writer, what am I? Not occupationally but essentially speaking, that is. It's hard to tell. All I know is: I'm not the great literary-artist-in-the-making I thought I was.

I'm just crazy Zelda who'll never be as good as the original Fitzgerald.

found at http://witandspit.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-am-not-writer.html

kk on But I'm not a writer!

Tue, 05 Feb 2008 09:25:25 -0600

In 12th grade, after returning from a year as an exchange student in Brazil, I ran into an interesting stumbling block in honors English. "Nancy, you are a functional illiterate!" That was my teacher's pronouncement. I could master the content, but my writing was sub-par. I don't know why I granted this teacher so much power, but this hung over my head for years. I am simply not a writer, I told myself. And I avoided writing at every turn.

To interact online we are all writers. We may not be poetic, or to the point. We may have sloppy grammar or spelling. Our turn of phrase may be inelegant. But we are communicating with each other through text, so we are all writers. Maybe not Writers with a capital "W." But writing is our most powerful tool.

As online facilitators we must be fluent. We have to be able to sit down at a keyboard and use our fingers to communicate. Like an offline facilitator who has to develop his or her public speaking skills, we have to develop our writing. We must learn to write with as many "voices" as we use offline. Quiet, direct, energetic, reflective -- all of them.

Here are some approaches:

* Use some basic offline writers tricks to develop fluidity and style such as keeping a daily journal. The point is write something every day.
* Participate in any online groups that interest you -- maybe something about a hobby or interest area -- and post something every day.
* Note the style of writers who convey ideas well, or who capture "feeling." Examine their approaches.
* Ask a buddy to critique your writing.
* Force yourself to practice different styles and voices.
* For intercultural groups, practice simple or "Global" English.

Our writing is our voice, our body language. As an instrument to a musician, our writing (along with our technological tools) are our medium for expression.
For further resources see: Facilitating Online Learning : Effective Strategies for Moderators by George Collison, Bonnie Elbaum, Sarah Haavind, Robert Tinker. There is an extensive section on online voice.