|
|
|
|
October 6, 2008 fixing my own failed writing, part 1
The first thing I obviously should have done in my post about writing is define my terms. So, a day late: Communication: It's no coincidence that 'communication' and 'communicable' have the same root. Think of successful communication as taking something out of your head and putting it into someone else's with as few alterations as possible. There are three roles: the communicator, the audience (either active or passive), the communication. Clear: Does not mean plain or factual; it means comprehensible. Clear communications allow the thing in your head to pass with few alterations to the audience's head, because your audience is able to grasp your intention or meaning. The world's floweriest metaphor can be as clear as winter air if it is comprehensible to its audience. (Note: the figurative language (as clear as winter air) in the last sentence, if it did its job, helped rather than obstructed understanding of my meaning; and was, therefore, clear. I hope.) Bad Writing: While it's true that I don't like bad writing, it's not true that I consider bad all writing that I don't personally like. There's a lot of writing out there that I can appreciate on a craft or technical level that doesn't resonate with me; I wouldn't call it bad writing. Bad writing is, to me, failed writing; that is, writing which has not successfully communicated whatever it was in the writer's head. For the sake of greater clarity, from now on I'll use the phrase "failed writing." It's possible for a piece of writing to be successful (in its transmission) but poor (in its execution); it is possible for a piece of writing to be lovely (in its execution) but a failure (in its transmission). Failed writing can also mean writing which has succeeded in its unstated but true aim of putting the writer on a pedestal. It's successful in that the thing in the writer's head ("I'm great!") has been successfully transferred with few alterations into the audience. In this case, it is bad (or failed) writing because the stated aim, the reason the audience read the piece to begin with ("let me tell you about my mother..."), was a deception and hasn't been fulfilled. Hopefully this will get around all of those questions of personal taste. For instance, Hemingway is not my thing, but I know full well he's a good writer--he successfully communicates his meaning and intention. I just don't like the way he does it. The function of writing needs a post on its own. And it will get one. Lucky you. The problem of the art critic: (I haven't used this one yet, but I will.) This is what happens when someone really loves some art form, reads/watches/views/listens to thousands of them, loses the ability to enjoy the poorer examples of the form, and tries to write about them for a living. Often they'll be criticized as being "elitist" for no longer being able to enjoy, say, Hollywood action flicks or formula fantasy novels or top-40 pop music; alternatively, mass tastes are criticized as being "low" or whatever. But really the issue is one of exposure. Someone who has seen only ten action flicks will almost inevitably have a wholly different reaction to one than someone who has seen 500, and there's no way around that. Posted by Andrea at October 6, 2008 5:55 PM under Wordsmithery EMAIL this entry (comments fields are below this section) Comments "Someone who has seen only ten action flicks will almost inevitably have a wholly different reaction to one than someone who has seen 500, and there's no way around that." One of my dearest and oldest friends (Andrea can probably guess who), who used to spend a lot more of his employed journalist time reviewing films, has in the past attested to this very thing! Posted by: Greg, aka theboyfriend at October 6, 2008 6:48 PM
Now I'm all paranoid that I offended you with my reference to plain language. But I spent most of my work days trying (not altogether successfully) to convince people to give up their bureaucratic, jargon-filled writing for something that people might actually read, or better yet, understand. Posted by: cinnamon gurl at October 6, 2008 6:58 PM
No no! I'm not offended at all. I'm just trying to clarify part of what I meant before, since it seemed like at least some of the disagreement centred around what particular words or terms mean. Posted by: Andrea
I just left that other long-winded comment and now I see this. Well then. 'nuff said. Posted by: Mad at October 6, 2008 8:00 PM
You've surely got something going here -- maybe a call for all of us to look at how we are doing what we are doing. If BlogRhet were still alive, this topic would thrive there. Posted by: mary g at October 6, 2008 9:02 PM
Nope. You don't have to be trying to communicate fact. You can be trying to communicate a perspective, a feeling, an opinion, a mood, an idea, a sense, a belief, a character--lots of things. The function-of-writing post will cover this a lot more, but basically, to use the painting analogy: abstract artists ARE trying to communicate something. What they are trying to communicate dictates the tools they use. If you are trying to say, "Look at this forest, isn't it pretty?" you'll go for representative art. If you're trying to say, "Perspective is a problem, and there are lots of ways to look at things," you'll use cubism. If you're trying to say that what's invisible is palpable, you'll paint as Van Gogh did. The point being that the painter has intention and meaning and the techniques are chosen to reinforce that meaning, not obscure it. Van Gogh didn't paint visible winds just to make a pretty picture. Picasso didn't paint faces with three eyes and two noses just because. They were communicating an idea. Clear doesn't mean plain and communication doesn't mean fact, nor do either of them mean strictly representative or realistic. But thank you for the compliment! If only I were still writing them.... Posted by: Andrea
I don't think your first piece failed at all, by the way. Look how much discussion it generated. Wasn't that the aim? Therefore--SUCCESS!! :-) Posted by: Gwen at October 7, 2008 9:17 AM
Not sure if I should keep commenting on the original post or bring the discussion forward. I went back to the original. BTW, I love talking about writing and what makes good writing work. I also think there is such a thing as good writing and failed writing, a distinction that goes beyond matters of personal preference. Posted by: Mad at October 7, 2008 9:42 AM
Are you kidding? I'm just happy that other people are even partially as interested in this as I am; comment wherever you'd like! You stand in serious danger though of seeing me run on about this for a week. Posted by: Andrea
Comment |
About Me I'm a type 1 diabetic, witch, feminist, environmentalist, writer, mother, student and print addict in Toronto, Canada. The blog has seen the birth of my daughter, her many medical adventures, my divorce and return to school. The name of the game is upheaval. Subscribe
Change is God (Octavia Butler, Parable Series) "What is more mortifying than to feel you've missed the Plum for want of courage to shake the Tree?" Logan Pearsall Smith Email Frances! frances AT andreamcdowell DOT com You can email her mother too (that's me):
The Best of Beanie Baby
Recent Entries
Categories Monthly Archives The WHOYCBE Not So Secret Spoilers These links open in a new browser window. Random Writer's Quote Write what will stop your breath if you don't write. ~ Grace Paley
Dwarfism Resources:
Blogs I'm Reading
Other Mom Sites: Green Family Library
The title of this blog was taken from the short story "The Language of Nna Mmoy" by Ursula le Guin in her collection, Changing Planes. I won't tell you why or how, because I want you to read the story and figure it out for yourself.
|