Advanced Essay Writing, Spring 2013

Blog Post 2.1

On page 380, last line, into page 381, Callahan writes,”….define creative nonfiction in terms of some absolute truth or fact. What we put in, what we leave out, the words we choose, the metaphors we build on, change everything. None of it is “real” in the absolute sense”.

Next paragraph, “Clearly the facts get muddled in creative nonfiction. That’s how humans are. Conversations get constructed from 10-year old memories, scenes get rebuilt from imperfect neurons, tastes are retasted and touches are refelt. None of that is done with absolute accuracy”.

Next paragraph, “That doesn’t in my opinion, detract from what we call creative nonfiction. Rather it adds.”

I really think these are two great paragragh breaks.

Zissner talks about “simplicity”, and the avoidance of “clutter”. On page 25, he writes, “Simplify, prune, strive for order……style… gradually emerging from under the accumulated clutter and debris…”

So, if one keeps it simple and avoids clutter, how does one’s style gradually emerge?

Perhaps Callahan answers this on page 380-381 in the above paragragh breaks.
When writing creative nonfiction, what a writer puts in, what a writer leaves out, words and metaphors chosen; in short how a writer interprets events, is perhaps one aspect of developing one’s style as a writer.

His chapter on words was especially interesting because he advises us to be more aware of our writing, our choices and to stay true to your emotions by choosing words that convey our most immediate intention. This is something I can relate to, or rather be ashamed of admitting that I have been a victim of verbose compositions. I always thought as long as your vocabulary is rich, no one will ever “impugn” your writing prowess. But as I “mature” as a writer, I started realizing how important honesty is for your craft. Now, what is honesty? Honesty here is embracing something in your writing that is indispensable: something that is not contrived to give your story a plot drive or something that is not excessive or forced, just because you want to show your readers this other set of skills you might possess. I have many times betrayed my feelings by choosing expressions, or words in this particular scenario, that demanded more awe than the real “signified.”

This gradation and spectrum of meanings that synonyms possess is an asset that a lot of us overlook. It is amazing sometimes what these variations can teach our sensory cognition. Sometimes, only after we are told the difference between two seemingly similar words, do we start to differentiate two seemingly similar sensations– I know my revelations are as scientific as Freud’s, perhaps even less so. I think it’s not merely an exercise to hone your writing skills, but also an opportunity for our senses to discern the details of our existence.

A piece of Zinsser advice that has helped me through my writing is, “At such moments I ask myself one very helpful question: What is the piece really about?” (Zinsser, pg 269). Through personal experience, I have caught myself in the middle of a paper and questioning where I am going with it. We have a tendency of wanting to write down so much and lose the essence of what the story is truly about. We are then left with a very detailed story with no direct path or sequence of events.

I think this is good advice for any writer. Writers tend to lose the meaning of their writing and begin to ramble about things that are not true to what they want their piece to be. Usually, writers add unnecessary details that draw them down another path. We then wind up with too much wordiness and lack of direction. I think it is great to really question where you want to go with your story. It allows you to gather the details you need and execute a great piece of writing.

“Is there any way to recognize clutter at a glance? Here’s a device my students at Yale found helpful. I would put brackets around every component in a piece of writing that wasn’t doing useful work. Often just one word got bracketed… Look for the clutter in your writing and prune it ruthlessly. Be grateful for everything you can throw away. Reexamine each sentence you put on paper. Is every word doing new work? Can any thought be expressed with more economy? Is anything pompous or pretentious or faddish? Are you hanging on to something useless just because you think it’s beautiful? Simplify, simplify.” (Zinsser 15-16).

This section of Zinsser really hits close to home with me. Since middle school I’ve been writing essays for class that had page requirements and because of that I wrote mostly to fill space once I ran out of anything to say. I took this advice to heart for the first draft and intend to always proofread my work and bracket off clutter and eliminate it.

The Zinsser lesson that I most appreciated and took to heart was from the Chapter 3 lessons on clarity. Improving clarity is something I’m trying to become better at and smoothing the flow of my writing is one of my major goals. I believe lack of clarity is a barrier to great writing because it usually correlates with wordiness and lack of rhythm.

On page 17 of my edition, it states “Look for the clutter in your writing and prune it ruthlessly.” This lesson resonated with me because we also learned that from master storyteller Ira Glass, someone I respect immensely. Zinsser goes on to share that “we should be grateful for everything we throw away”- a maxim that at first seems counter-intuitive but makes perfect sense in our cluttered world. I tried to apply it by stripping things down from my first essay, getting the point across without painstakingly describing every scene, such as the doctor’s office. I was hesitant in the past to cut my writing and it still is pretty painful (you are in effect, rejecting yourself), but I’m embracing it because I hope it will ultimately lead to a better outcome.

“Think small. Decide what corner of your subject you’re going to bite off, and be content to cover it and stop.” (Zinsser, 52)

While I found a lot of Zinsser’s suggestions to be very helpful it was this brief quotation that really struck me. Often times when I write I run into trouble when it comes to focusing on a particular topic. Once I’ve chosen a topic and begin writing I’m suddenly flooded with alternate ideas of subjects I can write about. As a result, I branch off starting three separate Word Documents on three different subjects and completing none of them. Zinsser then goes on to suggest:

“Decide what single point you want to leave in the reader’s mind. It will not only give you a better idea of what route you should follow and what destination you want to reach; it will affect your decision about tone and attitude.” (Zinsser, 52)

While I do focus on my reader’s reaction I also try not to be too manipulative in getting that reaction. For instance, when it came to my first draft for this class I had written two versions of my essay. One seemed a little too cliche as if written in order to demand a reaction and a little too preachy. Something which I’d like to work on in this class is identifying that sweet spot where I can tell a story and read it back to myself and have it match up to my own reaction to the actual event, conveying a genuine message whatever that may be.

“Therefore think small. Decide what corner of your subject you’re going to bite off, and be content to cover it and stop… As for what point you want to make, every successful piece of non-fiction should leave the reader with one provocative thought that he or she didn’t have before. Not two thoughts, or five -just one. So decide what single point you want to leave in the reader’s mind. It will not only give you a better idea of what route you should follow and what destination you want to reach; it will affect your decision about tone and attitude.” (Zinsser, 52)

I think this is good advice for beginning writers who are overwhelmed by wanting to express too many things in one piece, like I am. In essence, I think what he talks about is not just cutting out clutter in terms of words, but also in terms of ideas. If you choose one specific thing to express in your writing, it helps you focus in that area, and creates less room for tangents. Ultimately, this would result in clarity of the work, both to the reader and the writer.

“But the secret of good writing is to strip every sentence to its cleanest components. Every word that serves no function, every long word that could be a short word, every adverb that carries the same meaning that’s already in the verb, every passive construction that leaves the reader unsure of who is doing what–these are the thousand and one adulterants that weaken the strength of a sentence.” (Zinsser, 6-7)

I couldn’t agree more with this statement. It’s one of the best pieces of advice I’ve ever heard, because as Zinsser mentioned, most people love to assume that there is something wrong with a simple sentence. They insist on making it complicated or wordy, and this only confuses the reader or listener. I admit that I used to overuse the thesaurus when writing essays in the past because I had a similar mindset. For some reason, I believed that simple sentences made me sound too dull. I’d right click on random words for synonyms and replace them with terms that I never even heard of. But as long as they sounded fancy enough, I went along with it. It took me a little while to realize that what I was doing actually made my writing sound worse, but I eventually stopped overusing that thesaurus tool and trusted myself to come up with the right words. This doesn’t mean that I never use it at all, but I definitely keep it to a minimum. I now understand that simplicity is always the way to go. Getting the right message across is more important than trying to sound intelligent. It’s the key to writing well, and it’s likely to draw more readers.