Punctuation Points and Grammar Matters

A good writer knows their tools; punctuation marks each have a specific purpose - use them wisely!

Each mark of punctuation matters, just as each word must be chosen as uniquely qualified for its position in the writing. Notice how I said "their"" in that first sentence, whereas older grammar purists might have chosen "his or her" or even just "him" to refer back to the subject. Using "their" makes a definitive statement against sexism and provides a clear example for readers who seek clarity in expression, who run from ambiguity, but who also embrace a modern usage which reflects a changing culture. Each writer needs to use English in the way that reforms the world and molds it into their mental image of perfection.

Change

This post is not about writing, per se. It is written for a friend.

I hear you say, "fear" is what you feel, most of the time, and I feel for you. I'm writing this little story for you. For change.

Get ready to change.

It is so hard to drop the history and step off in a new direction to try some different way to live your life, but it is worth a shot. For starters, select a new mantra to replace the old "I feel fear most of the time." Be prepared to say, "I feel creative most of the time" (or 'I feel calm' or 'open to new experiences most of the time,' or choose something else to try). Anything will do, as long as it is more acceptable to you than "fear" and it is something you can visualize and you might like to see as a real part of yourself, an integral part of your identity. You can always try a new mantra later if this one doesn't work out.

Now, you can be on the lookout for "fear," and every time you see it coming, or see that it has already arrived, face it straight on. Examine it closely. Make sure it is really an instance of the "fear" you would like to see disappear from your life.

Your hands are strong. The "fear" is beginning to look a lot like a single sheet of white paper. You see the "fear" floating and taunting you, a piece of paper swirling in the air, swirling and flying all around you. It is teasing you with the horrible words it has written on it, but you suddenly recognize that it is really quite harmless. It is merely a piece of paper, and you needn't read the words on it, because you already know what they say, and those words are an old story that now bores you, as it is irrelevant to your new life.

You break out in a smile when you finally see that this little ridiculous piece of paper, the one that boasted that it had a hold on your heart and mind, is just a flimsy little sheet of plain old paper! How easily you have crumpled up sheets of paper - just like this one - many, many times before in your life, when you recognized that their usefulness as a paper messenger for someone long ago was already spent, and these papers were taking up space in your environment, and you knew you would never need them again. You felt so free, free to crumple up those old receipts and bills and letters and all the other papers. There were papers full of advertising for products you would never buy and junk mail for companies desperate to get your attention. They all tried to impose themselves on you - but you wouldn't let them, because you knew you had other things to do with your life other than hold onto worthless pieces of paper. You threw them out, with no regrets.

Now, you are staring at one sheet of paper that has "fear" written all over it. This paper is here with you, in the air, and it seems to have a mind of its own. It is fluttering around. But you discover that it is easy for you to chase as it flies around your head. You swipe it out of the sky with one hand. You hold it still. As it struggles to fly, you find it easy to keep it grounded and close to you. It is under your control.

Now, you remember how strong you are, compared to a piece of paper, and you decide to use both hands firmly on that piece of paper, to put it in its proper place, most likely the trash can. Imagine yourself squashing that annoying piece of paper into a little ball, as you would ball up any torn, empty envelope or old receipt, just before you toss it into the garbage.

Now imagine where you are going to toss it - you have decided against throwing it in the trash. Your squashed up, now-harmless, ball of "fear" will be going away permanently, to be dropped by you into a bottomless pit, a chasm, from which it can never return. There is a safe place for you to stand at the top of the chasm, with a pretty tall concrete wall at the edge of the chasm, a protective wall that leaves you in no danger of falling, but is not quite so tall that you cannot see over it. You stand right next to the wall, but you deliberately turn around a hundred and eighty degrees and face yourself away from that bottomless pit, looking in the opposite direction, but you keep your back against that strong wall. Now, when you crumple up "fear" and toss it, backwards over your shoulder, and it falls down, down, down into that chasm, it cannot escape. It is gone, gone forever.

You have actually chased, caught, captured, crumpled, and tossed into the bottomless chasm the first of your recognized instances of "fear." This feeling, that you have succeeded in eliminating a single "fear," is exhiliarating, and different. It makes you all of a sudden experience many different emotions at once, emotions that you previously had no room for, since "fear" was front and center in your life.

You begin to explore these other emotions, and find that they are not as unusual or as scary as you thought they might be. They are actually easier to manage than "fear."

I hope you enjoyed this game. Playing it will help to change your focus, to distract you from "fear," and when you play you will find that there is a huge void in your life where "fear" used to hang out.

Now, you must fill that void with something else. If you have nothing else to fill it with, start with a single blade of grass, plucked by you from a luxurious lawn, as you are enjoying a day in the sweet sunshine of early spring. There are more blades of grass where that one came from, and each is softer and lovelier and sweeter smelling than a piece of paper.

Basho's "Old Pond"

old pond
a frog jumps
the sound of water

Though it does not follow the traditional "5-7-5" syllable structure, "Old Pond" is the poem most often cited as an excellent example of haiku. Basho wrote his three-line poem hundreds of years ago as a series of Japanese characters created with painted brush strokes. In any language, a haiku is short, meant to be spoken aloud within the duration of a single breath. A traditional English haiku is a non-rhyming poem in three lines, expected to contain 5, 7, and 5 spoken syllables, respectively, though ultimately it is artistic expression which trumps numeric precision in syllable count. The feeling of haiku is the same in any language, expressing a beautiful thought heightened by the inclusion of contrasting poetic elements, which stimulate the reader to intense creative reflection on the poem's meaning. "Old Pond" is a favorite because of the feelings experienced by the reader as he contemplates the scene set by the poet and because of the surprising action which occurs. In the first line of the poem, the reader is drawn into the scene and finds that all is very still and peaceful. The reader sees the old pond. He is watching the water, observing the things in, floating on top of, hovering above, and everywhere around the pond. Every phase of the life cycle is seen: new growth, old, and decay. Everything here is much the same as it has been for centuries - the feeling is of a timeless serenity. Then the observer becomes aware that there is a frog sitting nearby, and the reader continues his observations and is further drawn into the scene. He pays attention to the other breathing creature beside himself. The sudden sound of a splash brings the reader to a full awareness that something has happened to break the hedonistic reverie - the frog has leapt into the water!

The Satisfaction of Reading a Variety of Writers

Reading changes your brain. Language is so flexible that we create unique word usages, found just between pairs or groups of like-minded individuals. When we recognize instances of this shared word usage, as we converse and as we read, these help us to feel a strong bond, a particular kind of deep, human-to-human connection that we seem to get in no stronger way.

Once we get used to a particular author's style, we begin to feel like friends. In reading older, classic literature, we have to overcome the obstacles involved in learning to read the longer, flowery language of people who wrote in centuries past. We learn, and relax into the author's style, and finally come to an understanding of what it was they were trying to communicate to us. Succeeding in our task, of working hard to work through the words in front of us until we "get" what it is the author wanted to tell us, makes us feel proud to be human. We have found a person with a message and we have listened to them, truly listened to another human being. We have reached beyond the barrier of the edge of the self. We have proved that we can connect to a bigger picture, that we are one with the larger universe of mankind.

Through reading, we identify the differences created by our separations from others - the passage of time, the chasms of space, the experiences of communities isolated from our own. We cross those gulfs and establish a certain closeness with those writers. We find that we have been able to span the centuries and become familiar with people from different cultures. We are now at home with these people - formerly strangers, now friends - in a place that once seemed foreign. We have made our world a more intimate and happy place.

We can also get a sense of deep connection to others, beyond the one-on-one, by becoming a fan of a music idol or a celebrity, or a follower of a sports team, or even as a member of a church or political party. We say we are an alumnus of a particular educational institution or we faithfully watch each episode of a particular series of shows. This feeling of connection to a larger group becomes a part of our own identity. We are thrilled that we belong to a larger group of cooperating individuals, what we recognize as a civilized society. We learn the language, the activities, the thoughts and motivations of the group. We want to belong. We work at understanding them until we become one of them.

Writers create that "secret language" just between themselves and their readers, the language spoken only by the "in" crowd that they themselves have created. Readers hungrily look for clues that they are in the presence of one of their favorite writers, because they know that they are not alone - other readers who appreciate this author are here, too. When a reader comes to recognize that words have created a unique space, and they now stand as a member of the group, allowed within the coveted inner circle, it has the effect of stimulating deep-in-the-subconscious, primal feelings of connectedness. The reader belongs, to a larger group of humans who are sharing in the experience created by the author.

Reading works to give us a deep, comfortable sense of satisfaction. We are entitled to enter into the author's private space. We are one of these special people, each of whom have successfully mastered navigating this amazing environment created by the author. We have overcome the obstacles set in front of the characters, as we have learned to see the environment through their eyes. As we read a writer's words, we are as one; we are a larger group of readers who we know are out there; they are sitting beside us as we read the very same words together. We readers enjoy each other's company, as we appreciate our host, who has prepared for us this, yet another delicious word banquet.

We look forward to being invited to the next event, as we already know the password for entrance through this secret club's front door.

The Muse Outdoors

It Happens

I now consider myself a true writer, since I killed off one of my characters in my most recent short story. Surprisingly, I was shocked and saddened when it happened. And I had surprised myself, I never thought I would be one of "those" writers, who would kill off a character. I love my characters! But, it was part of the story, and it just sorta happened...

EXPLETIVES

As I understand it, an expletive must be used when spelling out the truth in brutally honest, factual language would be too horribly painful or ugly. Use of the expletive allows the listener's feelings to be spared; the experience of hearing the expletive will be less damaging to his sensibilities. It will also protect the speaker from having to wash out his mouth with soap after stating the most unpleasant details of the reality of the situation.

Alternatively, the speaker may choose to say nothing at all, saving himself and his listener from the terrible impact of exposure to an expletive.

The Muse at Home

Reading for Writers

On waking early and reading the newspaper online while the rest of my family still lay sleeping, I grabbed onto a single five-syllable phrase I had encountered in a review of a current production of "The Iceman Cometh":

"booze has lost its kick"

I stole this particular phrase because, on first read, I found that its pointy letters had pulled together into an iron fist and smashed me in the gut.

I immediately engaged it in combat.

I had been eager for a worthy opponent. It was four o'clock in the morning and I was fully awake and bored out of my mind. I had been up since three, silently listening to the raging wind of the winter storm exterior to my warm and cozy condo, and had only moments before finally crept downstairs and turned on my laptop. As usual, it took a great deal of effort to ignore the soft snores of my husband and children, who were still sound asleep and blissfully unaware of my ensuing struggle with words.

I surprised myself, that I was able to tackle this latest phrase-demon so calmly, given the stinging still resounding in my heart from the long, sharp knife it had inserted there in round two of our title bout. It had stabbed me while I was still gathering the weapons at my disposal for the fight ahead. I congratulated myself that I was a writer who had been regularly following a disciplined regimen during the early morning hours. This almost invariably led to a new batch of quality wordsmithery being accomplished before dawn. In the wee-est hours of the morning, before sunlight could float in and break the spell, I tried to arm myself, with only my keyboard and my memories. I prepared to do battle, with my muse as my second. I usually emerged hours later, victorious and breathless, just as the male units of my household were ready to slide out from between sheets and into fuzzy bathrobes, wanting breakfast, ready to start checking off their own to-do lists for the day.

The phrase that had attacked me this morning I would show no mercy. I would rip it to pieces. I had to find out what it looked like on the inside, to try to discover what it was about this alphabetic construction that had set my nerves on fire.

I dug in my claws, tore it apart with my gnashing teeth, and from its rent flesh, I created this haiku:

prayer to Saint Jude

(haiku)

booze has lost its kick

memories haunt and won't let go

there is no escape

On re-reading this masterpiece of mine, I immediately began wrestling with self-doubt. The poem appeared flimsy, inadequate, vague, mundane, mangy, and dull.

The phrase I had word-napped from the theater critic was trite, which I had known from the time I first spied it, from a comfortable distance, as one who was reading the phrase merely as a seeker of new information.

In my mind, I had argued with the author of the review about his choice in words. Were they really his? I was sure I had read these five words, in this particular order, someplace before.

Had he stolen these words? Where had they come from? Had he invited them in, or had they been simmering in the recesses of his mind, having taken up residence after they had forced their way in through some other author's pen? If they weren't new, and they weren't fresh and clean and his own, and they barely did the job they were supposed to be doing, then why had he settled? Why had this writer stuck his readers with this ordinary-sounding phrase? The writer of the theater review was obviously being paid handsomely for his thoughts by one of the most prestigious newspapers extant. Why had an experienced word-wrangler allowed the commonplace into his composition? Why had he not expended a truer effort, and invented a unique set of words to say the same thing, to say it better?

Had he been off his game? Or had he, in fact, anguished over the possibilities that had presented themselves, and decided that these particular five words would have to do because no others could even come close?

What was it, about booze and regret, that demanded the use of this exact five-word phrase, "booze has lost its kick," by this theater critic, working for one of the most widely-read newspapers of our time?

Unfortunately, before I could find the answer I sought, I grew tired of the tussle with the trite. I decided there was nothing to be gained in insisting upon integrity in word play with an unknown author. Realizing that if I, a reader, had had trouble in reading the odd phrase, the writer himself probably hated his own five-word construction, Maybe he just had a bad day, maybe he was just a bad writer who happened to hold a good job. My sympathy for him as a fellow writer led to a resolve for me to do something special with his words.

I revisited the phrase in question, "booze has lost its kick." I recalled an old adage, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." I decided to let this poor excuse for a descriptive phrase have its way with me. I rewrote my haiku, adding one last bit, a re-hashed word-combo, which I designed to point out the flawed nature of the trite word phrases slouching through the poem:

booze has lost its kick

memories haunt and won't let go
they beat me senseless

I gave up, and let the Idiom Monster win...for today...

"I'll be back."

Writing Exercise: The Longest Month

The stretch which is February seems as long as the time between that horrible moment when, suddenly gasping for air, you realize you've tried to drink your soda too quickly and it has gone down the wrong pipe; and the the time when you can finally stop coughing up bubbles and tears and recognize that you will probably live and breathe again and maybe even swallow normally again at some point in the future.

Writer's Block

(a haiku)

last summer's music

cicadas trilled in my poems

now frozen silence

Letters from Abigail Adams

Great writers are also avid readers. Enjoy these fascinating excerpts of letters from Abigail to her husband, John Adams.

Source: Massachusetts Historical Society

http://www.masshist.org/digitaladams/archive/browse/

History during the years 1775-1777:  The invasion of the British upon the American colonies

QUOTE "Humanity obliges us to be affected with the distresses and miseries of our fellow creatures. Friendship is a band yet stronger, which causes us to feel with greater tenderness the afflictions of our friends. And there is a tie more binding than humanity, and stronger than friendship, which makes us anxious for the happiness and welfare of those to whom it binds us. It makes their misfortunes, sorrows and afflictions, our own."

QUOTE [on the need to take care of our health and the inevitability of death]"The fabric often wants repairing and if we neglect it the Deity will not long inhabit it, yet after all our care and solicitude to preserve it, it is a tottering building, and often reminds us that it will finally fall."

QUOTE "Your minute description of the persons you have seen are very entertaining to me."

QUOTE "I am not conscious of any harm that I have done, or wished, to any mortal. I bear no malice to any being. To my enemies, (if any I have), I am willing to afford assistance; therefore towards Man, I maintain a conscience void of offense."

QUOTE "Your desire that I would write at every opportunity is punctually observed by me, and I comply with your request, although I have nothing more to say than How do ye? and when will you return? These questions perhaps may appear trifling to others, yet to me they are matters of the highest importance."

QUOTE "I hope I have drawn a lesson from that which will be useful to me in the future, viz. never to say a severe thing, because, to a feeling heart, they wound too deeply to be easily cured."

QUOTE [December, roads impassible] "Alas! How many snow banks divide thee and me, and my warmest wishes to see thee will not melt one of them."

QUOTE "We are told that all the misfortunes of Sparta were occasioned by their too great solicitude for present tranquility, and by an excessive love of peace they neglected the means of making it sure and lasting. They ought to have reflected, says [ancient Greek historian] Polybius, that as there is nothing more desirable or advantageous than peace, when founded in justice and honor, so there is nothing more shameful and at the same time more pernicious when attained by bad measures, and purchased at the price of liberty."

QUOTE "We have too many high sounding words, and too few actions that correspond with them."

QUOTE [on noting the town's readiness for military invasion] "We live in continual expectation of alarms. Courage I know we have in abundance, conduct I hope we shall not want, but powder—where shall we get a sufficient supply?"

QUOTE [as war is becoming an immediate reality] "I do not now wonder at the regard the ladies express for a soldier—every man who wears a cockade appears of double the importance he used to, and I feel a respect for the lowest subaltern in the army."

QUOTE "The Day; perhaps the decisive Day is come on which the fate of America depends. My bursting heart must find vent at my pen."

QUOTE [on the military occupation] "The present state of the inhabitants of Boston is that of the most abject slaves under the most cruel and despotic of tyrants."

QUOTE "How difficult the task to quench out the fire and the pride of  private ambition, and to sacrifice ourselves and all our hopes and expectations to the public weal."

QUOTE "My pen is always freer than my tongue. I have wrote many things to you that I suppose I never could have talked."

QUOTE "I am more and more convinced that Man is a dangerous creature, and that power whether vested in many or a few is ever grasping, and like the grave cries give, give."

QUOTE "Be kind enough to burn this letter. 'Tis wrote in great haste and a most incorrect scrawl it is."

QUOTE "I want to say many things I must omit, it is not fit to wake the soul by tender strokes of art, or to ruminate upon happiness we might enjoy, lest absence become intolerable."

QUOTE "How many are the solitary hours I spend, ruminating upon the past, and anticipating the future, whilst you overwhelmed with the cares of state, have but few moments you can devote to any individual. All domestic pleasures and enjoyments are absorbed in the great and important duty you owe your country, "for our country is as it were a secondary God, and the first and greatest parent. It is to be preferred to parents, wives, children, friends and all things, the Gods only excepted. For if our country perishes, it is as impossible to save an individual, as to preserve one of the fingers of a mortified hand." Thus do I suppress every wish, and silence every murmur, acquiescing in a painful separation from the companion of my youth, and the friend of my heart."

QUOTE "I can not say that I think you very generous to the ladies, for while you are proclaiming peace and good will to men, emancipating all nations, you insist upon retaining an absolute power over wives. But you must remember that arbitrary power is like most other things which are very hard, very liable to be broken—and notwithstanding all your wise laws and maxims we have it in our power not only to free ourselves but to subdue our masters, and without violence throw both your natural and legal authority at our feet."

QUOTE "What can be the reason I have not heard from you since the 20 of April, and now 'tis the 27 of May. My anxious foreboding heart fears every evil, and my nightly slumbers are tortured; I have sent, and sent again to the post office, which is now kept in Boston at the office of the former Solicitor General, not one line for me, although your handwriting is to be seen to several others. Not a script have I had since the General Assembly rose, and our worthy friend Warren left Watertown. I fear you are sick. The very idea casts such a gloom upon my spirits that I cannot recover them for hours, nor reason myself out of my fears."

QUOTE "My heart is as light as a feather and my spirits are dancing. I received this afternoon a fine parcel of letters and papers [from you] by Coll. Thayer, it was a feast to me. I shall rest in quiet I hope this night."

QUOTE [signature, on the distance between them] "O that I could annihilate space."

QUOTE "I this day received by the hands of our worthy friend a large packet, which has refreshed and comforted me. Your own sensations have ever been similar to mine. I need not then tell you how gratified I am at the frequent tokens of remembrance with which you favor me, nor how they rouse every tender sensation of my soul, which sometimes find vent at my eyes, nor dare I describe how earnestly I long to fold to my fluttering heart the dear object of my warmest affections. The idea soothes me, I feast upon it with a pleasure known only to those whose hearts and hopes are one."

QUOTE "I feel no great anxiety at the large armament designed against us. The remarkable interventions of heaven in our favor cannot be too gratefully acknowledged. He who fed the Israelites in the wilderness, who clothes the lilies of the field and feeds the young ravens when they cry, will not forsake a people engaged in so righteous a cause if we remember his loving kindness."

QUOTE "I received a letter from you by Wednesday Post 7 of July and although I think it a choice one in the literary way, containing many useful hints and judicious observations which will greatly assist me in the future instruction of our little ones, yet it lacked some essential ingredients to make it complete. Not one word respecting yourself, your health or your present situation. My anxiety for your welfare will never leave me but with my parting breath, 'tis of more importance to me than all this world contains besides. The cruel separation to which I am necessitated cuts off half the enjoyments of life, the other half are comprised in the hope I have that what I do and what I suffer may be serviceable to you, to our little ones and our country; I must beseech you therefore for the future never to omit what is so essential to my happiness."

QUOTE "Last Sunday after service the Declaration of Independence was read from the pulpit by order of counsel. The Dr. concluded with asking a blessing upon the United States of America even until the final restitution of all things. Dr. Chauncy's address pleased me. The good man, after having read it, lifted his eyes and hands to heaven -- God bless the United States of America, and let all the people say amen. One of his audience told me it universally struck them."

QUOTE "P.S. We are in such want of lead as to be obliged to take down the leads from the windows in this town."

QUOTE "I have spent the 3 days past almost entirely with you. The weather has been stormy, I have had little company, and I have amused myself in my closet reading over the letters I have received from you since I have been here."

QUOTE [staying at her aunt's house] "I have possession of my aunt's chamber in which you know is a very convenient pretty closet with a window which looks into her flower garden. In this closet are a number of book shelves, which are but poorly furnished, however I have a pretty little desk or cabinet here where I write all my letters and keep my papers unmolested by anyone. I do not covet my neighbor's goods, but I should like to be the owner of such conveniences. I always had a fancy for a closet with a window which I could more peculiarly call my own."

QUOTE "Here I say I have amused myself in reading and thinking of my absent Friend, sometimes with a mixture of pain, sometimes with pleasure, sometimes anticipating a joyful and happy meeting, while my heart would bound and palpitate with the pleasing idea, and with the purest affection I have held you to my bosom till my whole soul has dissolved in tenderness and my pen fallen from my hand./How often do I reflect with pleasure that I hold in possession a heart equally warm with my own, and full as susceptible of the tenderest impressions, and who even now while he is reading here, feels all I describe./Forgive this reverie, this delusion, and since I am debared real, suffer me, to enjoy, and indulge in ideal pleasures—and tell me they are not inconsistent with the stern virtue of a senator and a patriot."

QUOTE "You know not how disappointed I was tonight when the post came in and I received no letter from you. 'Tis the first Saturday's post which has come in since I have been in town without a letter from you. It has given me more pain tonight than it would any other time, because of some false and foolish reports, I hope./I will not, more than I can help, give way to rumors which I have no reason to believe true. Yet at such a time as this when all the malice of satan has possessd our foes, when they have recourse to secret poison, assassination and every wicked art that hell can muster, I own myself alarmed and my fears sometimes overpower me./But I commit you to the great guardian and protector of the just, and trust in him that we shall meet and rejoice together, in spite of all the malice of earth and hell.../Little Charles stands by and sends duty to Pappa, says, Mamma, did you get any letters on Saturday? No. Then, why do you write, Mamma?"

QUOTE "How unfeeling are the world! They tell me they heard you were dead with as little sensibility as a stock or a stone."

QUOTE "I know your health must greatly suffer from so constant application to business and so little exercise."

QUOTE "While you are engaged in the senate, your own domestic affairs require your presence at home, and your wife and children are in danger of wanting bread. If the senate of America will take care of us, as the senate of Rome did of the family of Regulus, you may serve them again, but unless you return, what little property you possess will be lost. In the first place, the house at Boston is going to ruin. When I was there I hired a girl to clean it, it had a cart load of dirt in it. I speak within bounds. One of the chambers was used to keep poultry in, another sea coal, and another salt. You may conceive how it looked. The house is so exceeding damp being shut up, that the floors are mildewed, the ceiling falling down, and the paper moldy and falling from the walls. I took care to have it often opened and aired while I tarried in town. I put it into the best state I could."

QUOTE "I know the weight of public cares lie so heavy upon you that I have been loathe to mention your own private ones."

QUOTE "The best accounts we can collect from New York assure us that our men fought valiantly. We are in no ways dispirited here, we possess a spirit that will not be conquered. If our men are all drawn off and we should be attacked, you would find a race of amazons in America."

QUOTE "There are particular times when I feel such an uneasiness, such a restlessness, as neither company, books, family cares or any other thing will remove, my pen is my only pleasure, and writing to you the composure of my mind."

QUOTE "What is said of the English nation by Hume in the reign of Harry the 8th may very aptly be applied to them now, that they are so thoroughly subdued that, like eastern slaves, they are inclined to admire even those acts of tyranny and violence which are exercised over themselves at their own expense."

QUOTE "The young folks desire Mamma to return thanks for their letters which they will properly notice soon. It would have grieved you if you had seen your youngest son stand by his Mamma and when she delivered out to the others their letters, he inquired for one, but none appearing he stood in silent grief with the tears running down his face, nor could he be pacified until I gave him one of mine. —Pappa does not love him, he says, so well as he does brothers, and many comparisons were made to see whose letters were the longest."

QUOTE "I sit down to write although I feel very languid; the approach of spring unstrings my nerves, and the south winds have the same effect upon me which Brydon says the Siroce winds have upon the inhabitants of Sicily. It gives the vapors, blows away all their gaiety and spirits and gives a degree of lassitude, both to the body and mind, which renders them absolutely incapable of performing their usual functions./He adds that it is not surprising that it should produce these effects upon a phlegmatic English constitution; but that he had just had an instance that all the mercury of France must sink under the weight of this horrid leaden atmosphere."

QUOTE "I really think this letter would make a curious figure if it should fall into the hands of any person but yourself—and pray if it comes safe to you, burn it./But ever remember with the tenderest sentiments her who knows no earthly happiness equal to that of being tenderly beloved by her dearest Friend."

QUOTE "'Tis ten days I believe since I wrote you a line, yet not ten minutes passes without thinking of you. 'Tis four months wanting 3 days since we parted, every day of the time I have mourned the absence of my Friend, and felt a vacancy in my heart which nothing, nothing can supply. In vain the spring blooms or the birds sing, their music has not its former melody, nor the spring its usual pleasures. I look around with a melancholy delight and sigh for my absent partner. I fancy I see you, worn down with cares, fatigued with business, and solitary amidst a multitude."

 

Forms of Poetry

GLOSSARY: "poem" "haiku" "senryu" "found haiku" "haiga"





poem

A "poem" is a word or words that move a person, either a writer or a reader. More specifically, whatever the poet says is a poem, is a poem. He should know. He created it. The same goes for the reader; when a reader comes into contact with words and says, "That's poetry!" it is poetry. Additionally, anything besides words that evokes in the mind of a person the feeling that they have just had a poetic experience, is defined as poetry.

Traditionally, a poem is a beautiful word drawing, meant to capture the essence of a strong emotion and place it in the reader's mind. It has been gained through the poet's close observation, fostered by his recognition of a truth about human life.

This recognition of a universal truth creates a feeling of connectedness among those who come to an understanding and full appreciation of this truth, of themselves with other people and with the universe. It creates in them a calmness, of a sense that one has a place within that universe. It imports an intuition that one is in possession of a particular knowledge about that space and about oneself.

Alternatively, the poetry consumer may gain a sense of a shared knowledge, between himself and the poet and others who appreciate the poem, that there really is no rhyme or reason to the universe; so there is no hope of one's finding placement within it, nor a particular connection to it, nor to other people. This feeling, too, of the futility of believing that there is a connection possible, paradoxically connects a person with others who have also recognized this futility as a truth not to be denied, but to be embraced.

Whatever is the feeling induced by the poetic experience, it stands to comfort both the poet and the reader in a way that is biologically satisfying. This wakes up the area of the brain used for honing the social skills necessary for survival, which makes both the creation and consumption of poetry a particularly personal and invasive, beneficial, physical experience.

Traditional forms of poetry additionally follow specific, identifying, constraining rules, limiting the number of syllables in a line or requiring a particular number of lines, which each must follow a particular structure in rhyme or meter or both. A form of poetry may also require the poet to address a particular subject matter or mood.



haiku

A traditional formal haiku is a work of art that can only be created in a pen and ink drawing using the characters of the classical form of the written Japanese language. It is a succinct poem of three lines, one longer line in the middle of two shorter lines. The poet shares his acute observation of the workings of nature. He captures the essence he feels during a singular moment in which he so deeply experiences an intimate relationship with an element of the natural world that his eyes are opened and a truth concerning the human condition is revealed.

This form of haiku specifically does not rhyme nor contain rhythmic structural elements other than that it is composed of three lines, the first and third shorter than the second. The poem is very short; a haiku is spoken aloud during the interval of a single breath.

The joy of haiku is not forever reserved to those familiar with the brushstrokes used to convey the classical Japanese language. Haiku has more recently been redefined as a poem which evokes the haiku experience. It may be created in any language and in any medium. A haiku is a short poem containing an acute observation which leads the poet, as well as his reader, to an emotional, intellectual, and/or spiritual insight.

"Natural haiku" contains reference only to that which is observed in the natural world, that untouched by humans, and has its roots in the earliest haiku created by the ancestors of the modern Japanese. No direct mention is made of the existence of any human thought or activity, nor of any physical material which has been constructed by or touched or changed in any way by people. What the poet does notice is the way the natural world changes, especially from season to season.

Less constricting forms of haiku do contain reference to humanity. In creating a haiku which contains both an observation of nature and an observation of the world of people, a poet may use one to illustrate and deepen the feeling for and understanding of the other.

The experiencing of a haiku evokes a sudden change in perspective which creates a surprise. The reader recognizes the point where the poet made the creative leap into awareness. Both the poet and the reader share in this "aha!" moment.

To increase enjoyment of modern haiku, an attempt is made to incorporate as many elements of traditional haiku as possible. The reader knows the "rules" of traditional haiku and enjoys encountering instances in the poem where he can recognize a "proper" use — of a seasonal word, a surprise, etc. — much as one might enjoy a scavenger hunt.

A non-rhyming poem is considered to be a haiku in form as long as it is very short and is comprised of three lines, with an effort made to conform to the same syllabic balance seen in the traditional Japanese form. Many haiku written in the English language are extremely brief.

When spoken aloud, a carefully-constructed 5-7-5 haiku, a subset of traditional American haiku, will contain exactly seventeen syllables in three ordered lines of exactly five, seven, and five syllables, respectively. Unless, of course, it doesn't. Even a true 5-7-5 haiku may contain more or fewer syllables in any one line, or add up to a number different than seventeen, due to the quirkiness of the poet or the expediency of word selection. Precise language and poetic feel always trump syllable count. Though the 5‐7‐5 structure is the aim, any close approximation to that structure is acceptable to all but the 5-7-5 haiku purist.

When considering the number of syllables in a word, consider how dictionary descriptions of the structure of a word and regional pronunciation may differ. A poet may also use words in an unexpected manner, altering the number of pronounced syllables, for emotional or dramatic effect. Consider, for instance, how the word "Mommy!" may be stretched into three or more syllables by a child riding in the back seat of the family car with her brother, complaining, "Mom-mee-eee, Jeffrey's touching my doll again!" Jeffrey's reply, "No, I'm not!" could be pronounced either in a most definite three-syllable "No! I'm! Not!" or in just two, "Nome Not!" The acronym written "ASAP" may be slowly pronounced "a, s, a, p" by a high-school guidance counselor in gently recommending that his student send in his college applications by the end of the month, or it could be barked "A sap!" by a boss snapping orders to an experienced team of hustling sales clerks.

Appreciation of haiku demands an oral reading, to hear for oneself how the poet intended the haiku to sound. Syllable count depends on the speaker, who may be in a particular emotional state or may be using a local dialect.

Consider that the word "poem" may be spoken as containing either one or two syllables. In reading aloud a 5‐7‐5 haiku, a reader must experiment to discover the poem's correct syllable structure. The puzzling out of the haiku's conformity, or not, to the spoken 5-7-5 structure is part of the poetic experience. This mental work has the effect of involving yet another area of the brain, activating it during the frenzy of poetic excitement. This area, normally relegated to the performance of math and music, is also aroused during the experience of forms of poetry which use strict metrical constraints.

The appearance in a haiku of a "season word," such as "snow," triggers a physical memory of the sensory reactions normally experienced within only one of the manifestations of the fluctuations of weather. There occurs in the deepest, primal portions of the brain a recognition that the human body resonates with the natural world. One is instantly prompted to remember that seasonal change is cyclical. This realization evokes an emotional reaction to the knowledge that human life also follows a natural and inevitable course of continuous change. People are born, age, and die.

Each moment in life happens but one at a time.

By zeroing in on one particular tableau, the haiku poet helps a reader to see how important to the big picture are each of the individual moments in a life. Each instant can be noticed and fully appreciated.

The definition of haiku, similar to the definition of a poem, is further expanded to include anything at all deemed to be haiku by its creator or by a person who experiences a haiku moment. Any haiku can be found to be actively breaking any or all of the rules of haiku and still be declared a haiku by the haiku enthusiast.


senryu

A senryu is any haiku that follow/breaks the rules of traditional haiku but calls for its own label because it has less to do with a reference to nature and more to do with the dark humor which results from close observation of human behavior.



haibun
When a poetic story must be told that wants greater lattitude than that afforded either poetry or prose alone, the artist may combine prose with poetry, usually a haiku, to form a haibun.



found haiku

"Found haiku" results from a reader's having fortuitously recognized that, hidden in plain sight amongst the words of prose he is reading (in some other context), there appear to be all the elements of a haiku poem. The bits which comprise the haiku are then carefully collected and stored for future enjoyment.

Knowing that such treasures as "found haiku" exist in the wild adds a level of excitement to all reading, a reminder to keep one's eyes open. A haiku might be so close that, if it were a snake, "it would'a bit ya!"



haiga

"Haiga" is a work of art that combines a haiku with an image. A haiga's haiku and its image each add to the story.

The picture is not merely a beautiful backdrop or a decoration, but part of the message, deepening and broadening the meaning and feeling of the poem in a targeted way.

The picture tells a story independently of the haiku, and the haiku draws one deeper into the picture, for a broader artistic experience.

Allusion

Critics of the now nearly-ancient famous English writer Alexander Pope complain that his style of literary criticism was too "creative." He translated, edited, and commented on many great works of literature, but not without leaving his own special fingerprint on the result. As we read Pope's rendition of Homer's epic poems, The Illiad and The Odyssey, we have no way of distinguishing when we are experiencing a connection with Homer's thinking or Pope's.

Whereas critics now also complain about Pope's style of writing, they admit that his works are rich in references to pop culture and historical events, concluding therefore that therein lies the greatest value to students of his poetry.

Pope's immersion in and complete understanding of the religious experiences and literature of his day also provided him with a reference that, as a writer, he used to full advantage, giving a richness to his poetry. Readers also familiar with these aspects of his culture will have a greater appreciation for the depth of his communications.

In ancient times, a Greek writer referring to Greek mythology to enhance the meaning of his work would have completely lost the ancient Japanese reader unfamiliar with the author's milieu, and vice versa. Similarly today, writers are faced with an extraordinary diversity in background among their readership around the world. As in ancient times, there is no common cultural experience among peoples to draw upon for richness in the literary experience.

American writer Emerson "solved" this problem through the use of metaphor from his observances of nature, which he assumed to be a universal experience. However, today, we no longer share his intimacy with the natural world. Urbanites may never have stood under a waterfall, watched a kitten being born, milked a cow, woken to the sound of a songbird newly arrived from the north, or followed a well-traveled path through a forest. Most have not observed a milkweed pod open and spill its fluffy contents, and then followed with their eyes the seed, dangling from its puffy parasail; nor guessed what path it would take in dancing forth, following the slightest breeze up into the skies and out of sight. How do you feel, when first you notice there are no new spring leaves on a newly failing majestic oak? When was the last time you climbed as high as you dared up the ever-slendering branches of a tree on top of a hill, just to get a better view of the clouds? Did you discern, in the sky's slowly shifting shapes, the outlines of your favorite furry forest friends? I have. I have smoothed the feathers of a dead baby bird, discovered fallen from its nest and mysteriously stilled by the forces of nature before it had had a chance to mate and build a nest of its own. I found its nest, deserted by parents and siblings, and placed the fluffy creature back in place, with a plea to the woodland fairies to perform their promised magic and make it sing and fly again.

The closest we now come to a universally-common experience is in our reckoning with the sky, which covers us all. However, light pollution has rendered enigmatic most allusions referring to the constellations. Sunrise over the ocean is unobservable by all but a few, as is sunset over the mountains. There are no common birds, as each area of the world has its own selection of species, each with its own songs and behaviors. Bees sting us only when we live in places where bees live. Mice scurry only where there are no rats and cockroaches to eat their dinners first.

What common experience of nature do we now share? Not even the drenching rains, which do not fall in snow-persistent regions. Encounters with wind might seem to be a universal experience, until one considers the differences in how wind is constant in some areas of the world, intermittent with stillness in others.

Yes, we all have spiders. But, of different sizes and with different natures, some aggressive, some furtive. Two eyes, six, or eight. Hairy, or smooth. Jumping, or creeping. Even their webs are constructed in various ways, some intricate and elaborate, some simple and merely orderly. Each region of the globe can depend on finding a unique but predictable set of indigenous spiders.

How common is our physical form? Our experience of our own human biology is pre-fashioned by the culture in which we find ourselves immersed. I may start to feel cold when the temperature of the air reaches down to touch sixty-seven on the thermostat, and choose to put on a sweater or turn up the heat. Children raised in the arctic are perfectly comfortable without clothes in the fifty-five degree temperatures inside an igloo. Those living in the hottest climates  may wear very little clothing, but some wrap themselves from head to toe to protect against the heat. I once read of the discovery of an unclothed Australian aboriginal tribe that had not taught their children that "cold" is something that should change one's perception of a person's interaction with the environment. Even after acculturation, in the freezing, windy, and rainy season they were perfectly comfortable in their own skins. They showed no interest in wearing shirts, pants, or shoes, much less the warm coats and boots offered by their benevolent "discoverers."

If we retreat into the recesses of our own minds, will we there find common ground? We discover instead, or even especially, that our thoughts provide no universality. Contrary to popular belief, a smile does not mean the same thing in every language. The ideas of "love," "childhood," "sex," and "spirituality" are all human constructs, with differences more likely than similarities, when comparing what is found in different societies.

How, then, does one write, to express one's thoughts to an audience that spans, not just the globe, but across the eons of time? Will there always be another Alexander Pope, to pick up the pieces of what he finds and make them real again for his own audience? How do we convince the Alexander Pope of five hundred years from now that our own words are still viable and worthy of refreshment? How do we find the eyes of anyone, any people beyond our own selves, who might enjoy having our unique words splashed across their consciousnesses, to be mingled with their own thoughts, and twisted into new and original constructs, and, having passed through, go on to infect others? My own family has not the time nor patience to indulge me with reading more than a page or two of my words over the course of a month. Why would anyone else even attempt that sort of intimate connection?

Homer did it. Shakespeare did it. They took universal fears and hopes and dreams and magnified them. They hooked us with blood and gore and sex and lies and duplicity and lust and greed. It was funny, entertaining.

Should we do the same? To make successful humor, we must get to the filth of it, so the reader can be interested, yet detached. The reader wants to see the horrors of the world defeated, the villains vanquished, the heroes compensated for their heroic efforts. The world saved, to live again.

We will write instead of the inner journey. As the drama swirls around outside, the maelstrom threatens to consume us from within.

Who will understand us? How can we explain ourselves, even to audiences in the present, much less those of the future, when we have so little of a common background that our obscure references go unappreciated?

A writer could include an in-depth explanation of what each of the elements in the work means within its context.

Or, a writer might forge ahead blindly and ignore those readers who might miss the inside jokes. More simply, a writer must focus on writing the familiar.

Just "Pick an audience, any audience!" Write for them and hope they will understand exactly what it is that you, personally a stranger to them, are trying to say. And when they don't understand you, simply throw up your hands and say, "I give up!" Then, pick up your writing and continue wherever it was you were when you left off.

How many of you readers "got" that humorous allusion to the magic trick, "Pick a card, any card!"?

There are as many varieties to that trick as there are magicians. Some card tricks require a stacked or a "trick" deck. Some use an ordinary deck but require the collusion of an accomplice, to play the trick on an unenlightened patsy. At the conclusion of a demonstration of "magic," sometimes you learn how the trick was accomplished. Sometimes you are left mystified and frustrated. Many times you have already blurted out, "I've seen this one before!" You are relieved you were not the patsy of the magician and his accomplice, nor were you left frustrated by participating in a new trick you do not yet understand. Yet, you have learned nothing new. So, you have been cheated, after all.

When invited to "pick a card," in the back of your mind you always know that there is no such thing as "magic," but you always play along anyway. You hope you might learn how to add a new trick to your own repertoire.

You carefully scrutinize the deck. Is it marked? You search the innocence in the look on the face of the magician. His earnest smile encourages your participation in his fun. His scheme, you fear, will leave you feeling defeated.

You survey the scene, hoping to uncover the accomplice, if there is one, and foil the two of them from making you their patsy.

At the very least, you are sincerely hoping not to be left imploring, "How did you do that? Just tell me, I promise I won't give it away!" You know the magician will just smile his smug little smile, "Wouldn't you like to know?" He will actually say only, matter-of-factly, "It's magic." He will pick them up quickly, the deck of cards, sliding them from one hand to the other and back again, keeping your attention on his eyes the whole while. Content that his years of practicing for this trick have once again paid off, he will start shuffling the cards again immediately. He will keep shuffling them until you go away. Shuffling, shuffling, smiling, shuffling. Convincing you that, indeed, it was true that "It's just an ordinary deck of cards!" Shuffling and still shuffling, he is preparing for his next victim, and you are left confounded and angry not to be let in on the secret so you can go on to find a victim of your own to play the trick on.

Half the fun of "Pick a card, any card!" is never knowing precisely which kind of a trick it is that you are encountering. You just hear the magician's words. They convince you to take the risk and "Go ahead. Pick one. Any one!" from the splayed deck which has been thrust under your nose.

You can't decide which to watch more carefully, the magician's hands or his eyes.

Resources for Analyzing and Improving One's Own Writing

Great writers master the craft of writing.

Purdue Writing Lab

"Reverse Outlining: An Exercise for Taking Notes and Revising Your Work"

https://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/689/1/

George Orwell

"Politics and the English Language," 1946

https://www.mtholyoke.edu/acad/intrel/orwell46.htm

From the Orwell essay, this one is my favorite: "If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out." I find that contemplating each word separately gives quite a keen view of my work. If any single word does not further the story and also provide excitement to the reader in its own right, it's history!

 

The Story-Teller

You are a writer. You have decided to tell a story.

This is similar to going on a travel adventure. You will leave us and our present environment, embark on a curious journey, experience very interesting things, and then come back to tell us all about it.

All we can say is, "Bon voyage! Have fun! And don't forget to write!"

Enjoy your words, while they belong to only you. Others may clamor for them later.

Be forewarned that, should you let them escape, your words may go run to play in someone else's head, too. This may actually be fun for you, especially if you are there while they are reading, so you can see the look on your reader's face as they experience your writing.

PREDICTION

Books of the future will provide this interactive treat for writers, who will see the reader's face explode with emotion and amazement as the author reaches into the nethermost areas of the reader's brain and touches him directly with his words.

WARNING

Writers today already enjoy imagining the impact they have on those touched by their words. This new Dancing-With-the-Reader function of interactive books (available circa 2019) will only serve to encourage them further!

 

The "Rules" of Writing

Do not be afraid to break any of the "rules" of writing. Your words are your own, to play with as you desire. Allow yourself to be creative in your use of language.

Be especially careful to make clear your purpose in breaking the rules. Deliberate actions on the part of the writer might easily lead a confused reader to attribute apparent transgressions to: a) shallowness in the writer's personality; b) gaps in the writer's education; c) a lack of expertise with the writing process; or d) a glaring instance of oppositional behavior, revealing a deep-seated abhorrence of authority and a dark side on par with a team consisting of Darth Vader and Lord Voldemort [assuming that the seats on the right-hand sides of both Count Dracula and Satan are already taken].

A poor writer is to be pitied, much as a blind beggar who starves to death, standing and clanging his tin cup just outside the door of a soup kitchen he cannot sense. It is bad enough that he will die of starvation within inches of free food—he can smell the food!—the real tragedy is that people pass by the tragic man all the time but no one has told him he can go inside and help himself.

If you see instances of poor writing, please do the writer a favor and TELL HIM!

The writer will be forever grateful for the heads-up, and won't even think of polling your high-school friends to discover what disgusting thing about you he could use in his next novel, just to get even, if only in his mind.

Changing the "Real World"

I found quite interesting our writer's group's recent brief discussion touching on whether clues to the sexual identity of a character could be safely assumed in the following situation and whether that mattered. One of our female writers had included in her story a character who had not as yet been defined as male or female before beginning to play the daisy game, plucking the petals of a daisy while saying, "He loves me, he loves me not." We discussed and determined that the pronoun the character selected, "He," does not necessarily tell the reader anything definitive about the character's gender, gender identity, sexual orientation, or sexual preference. Those complicated characteristics require more clues to pin down.

"Boys in real life simply do not play the daisy game," I had argued. "It is a girl's game, played by romantic young girls fantasizing about boys returning their affections. She says, 'He loves me, he loves me not.' Boys don't play the daisy game, or if they do, they say, "She loves me, she loves me not,' not 'He loves me, he loves me not.'"

"Unless they are gay," offered another of our writers.

"I play that game, and when I do, I say, 'He loves me, he loves me not,'" said the lone male writer in our group, without hinting at his own sexual preferences.

"But, you are not a character in a book. You are a real person. The reader does not know you, and the writer has not described the real you. The writer has described for the reader a player of the daisy game who chooses the pronoun 'He' in saying, 'He loves me, he loves me not,' and that is enough of a clue for the reader to assume the character is female, unless the writer goes on to specify otherwise."

My argument was in vain. The other writers defended the author of the story as having provided a story element for her male character which needed no further explanation.

I am old-fashioned and out-of-touch in assuming that today's reader would rely on old stereotypes to make assumptions about the character.

What is the writer to do, to provide his reader with shortcuts to understanding his characters, if he cannot rely on stereotype?

Is the boy who says "He loves me, he loves me not" expressing wishes for his male heartthrob to return his own desires, or is he mockingly aping his sister's practice of playing "that girly daisy game"? Is his experience with the daisy game so limited that, in reciting the words, he is simply repeating by rote exactly what he had heard or read, "He loves me, he loves me not," with an immature understanding of the implications of the questioning petal picker's words? If we don't know anything else about who the male character is, an explanation is in order, to avoid the reader's confusion. The reader needs to know what the author's intention was in having his character play the daisy game. The reader should not be left hanging with such a red herring.

I had argued that if those characteristics are irrelevant to the story, they could safely be omitted, but if including mention of the daisy game and no other relevant details presented the reader with only a partial clue to the character's sexual characteristics, the writer has not told his reader how and why it is important. Finding no other evidence to identify the character as male or female, the reader might make the false assumption that the character was female, simply because readers make assumptions based on societal norms and their experience with the statistical distribution along a Bell curve of common behavior patterns and human characteristics. If they believe that it is most likely that it is a girl who would play the daisy game using "He loves me" rather than "She loves me," they might well assume the character is a female. It might be very distracting to find out later that the assumption that the character was female was incorrect, as the reader will then stretch his memory to try to determine whether any other clues might also have been missed.

As readers, we generally make assumptions about a character's undetermined characteristics based on what fits the statistical norm on a Bell curve, either from our experience with real life or from our experience with other literature in general. Unless directed otherwise by the writer, we tend to disregard race, sex, age, nationality, sexual orientation, gender identity, religion, height, weight, and preferences and characteristics in so many areas. We simply assume we are reading about the average Joe, who conforms to our preconceived stereotypes of "normal" characters in most stories written in English: a young, white, Christian, heterosexual male of average build, and of statistically average characteristics, who watches television, goes to work, and has a family. We assume that if it was a girl, the author would have told us. If any of our assumptions inaccurately describe the character, we expect the writer will clarify for us in what ways the character differs from the expected norm, and as early in the story as possible. We develop expectations for that character based on our real life experiences with the statistical distribution of the characteristics of the population of the real world. More importantly, we base our expectations on what we think society says is right and normal.

We expect characters to be sane, unless crazy is written into the script. We don't have to be told that the roommate of a nun in a nunnery is female. At one time it was safe to assume that all residents of a college fraternity house were male, but that is no longer the case. Norms and rules for society change, but it is often description of character we readers rely on for clues as to which society the story is set in. If we read about a female CEO of a major corporation in a story which is set in the present and the writer does not mention her sex, we wrongly assume the CEO is male. If later we learn she is pregnant, we are unpleasantly surprised, rightfully annoyed with the writer that we were not warned aforehand to alter our expectations. If we read about a male character fantasizing about his love interest, we expect it will be a daydream about a woman, because it is a commonly accepted fact that ninety percent of men are heterosexual (at least that is what we have been told to believe).

The reader's assumptions reflect a society's assumptions, and if we as writers can change our readers' assumptions, we can change society as a whole. As a society, we have just recently learned that it is wrong to assume anyone's sexual orientation based on statistics, where it used to be socially acceptable to do so. If I knew of two unmarried twenty-somethings, I could feel free to try to arrange a blind date and hope they would be "perfect for each other" without first inquiring of them their sexual preferences. It was assumed that an incorrigible bachelor might be a rogue, making him unfit for marriage, but never was it just assumed that he was gay and that it would be okay to set him up on blind dates with other unmarried men.

Each person is a unique individual. People do not always "come out" and tell the rest of us what their sexual orientation is, even in a story, and we have learned that we cannot make assumptions if we are not told explicitly. If we see our male hero in our story and an attractive available female shows up, we cannot assume that she is a suitable love interest. This complicates things for modern writers in a way that writers of yore did not have to deal with. In older stories, romantic themes could be relied on to add underlying meaning in specific ways, simply because it was understood that readers could make assumptions. Today, writers may have to spell out very specifically what exactly it is they want us to know about their characters. We readers now know we can't rely on clues about the character's sexuality from the society he lives in or from the situations he finds himself in. As writers and readers, we see now more variation in the possibilities a writer is free to offer a character in expressing his sexuality. This causes readers to put off forming expectations of what will happen next.

As writers, we can take on our society's stereotypes and change the world, one reader at a time, by changing the reader's expectations of what is "normal." We do this by pointing out details about how our character differs from the norm, and leaving out details about how he is similar to the majority of other characters found in the same society. For instance, in a society where men regularly beat their wives, a writer's character who does not beat his wife is seen as "different," and a reader who is told that the character does not beat his wife changes his expectations about what the character will do, and comes to expect that he may behave differently than other "normal" men in the same situation. However, if the writer in telling the story does not give the reader a clue in advance that he is "different," and it turns out that he is a man who does not beat his wife, the reader adjusts his own view of what the norms are, in the world he is reading about. He was not told ahead of time that this character was not a wife-beater; therefore, the reader has learned that the societal norm in this story is that men do not beat their wives, even if in the real-world society the reader lives in, it is the case that most men beat their wives.

The reader knows that a writer will clue him in about the norms by pointing out a character's differences from the norm, but the writer will be silent and not mention the character's attributes that conform to the norm. If the reader has then changed his perception of what the societal norms are, simply because he has trusted the writer to describe his fictional world according to writing conventions, the writer has accomplished a change in the reader's thought processes. The reader now has a new idea of what "normal" is.

The fiction writer who does not tell the reader ahead of time that his CEO is female, and on page 207 reveals she is pregnant, forces the reader to reassess his own assumptions about society. If the writer had considered it the norm that CEOs are mostly female, then he would of course not bother to mention the fact that she is female, any more than he would mention a character's heterosexuality if it is believed that the overwhelming majority of the population is heterosexual. The reader, confronted with the writer's description of a world where the overwhelming majority of CEOs are women, will then second-guess his own original assumption that almost all CEOs are male, and may then discard his initial assumption based on what he may come to believe is a false or old-fashioned stereotype that is no longer true. The next time that reader reads about a CEO, he is likely to assume that the character is at least equally likely to be male or female, or more likely to be female, since the writer has planted that suggestion in his subconscious.

In this way, the writer has the power to change the assumptions made by readers. If the writer convinces the reader that the new norms in his fiction actually reflect the new realities of the real world, the reader now has acquired new beliefs about the real world.

Therefore, to change the world's views on women taking over in the boardroom, a writer should not give a clue that the powerful, successful executive is a woman, not until the last page of the story. She does everything a normal woman executive does, and the reader learns that she is a normal executive, who does everything the same way a male executive would. In the story, she has been just as cut-throat as the next corporate head-honcho, and it is only on the last page that she is late to a meeting because her newborn threw up on her suit as she was leaving for work and she had to change her clothes. That is an event which, of course, also happens to male executives with children, but it is her changing of her "skirt" that gives her sex away, and not the fact that she has been nurturing her infant, which both men and women do. The reader comes to see that it is normal and expected that a CEO would be a woman, and it is a short step from believing it about a fictional world to believing it about the real world.

Alternatively, for a writer to alter a reader's perception that males are the norm in the area of who controls decision-making at the top of the corporate ceiling, it may suffice to introduce as CEO a male character with a first name ambiguous with regard to his sex, and very early on in the story purposefully describe him as "male," as a way to tell the reader, "Aha! You thought you were reading about an ordinary CEO, and ordinary CEOs, as everyone knows, are female. But, my character is a successful, powerful CEO, who also happens to be male. Surprise!" The reader is surprised, not that the CEO is a male, but he is surprised at himself, that he thought he expected a CEO to automatically be a male, when obviously the writer is telling him that he should have been expecting the CEO to be a female.

The writer tells the reader what the norms are, by pointing out how his character differs from the norm. A writer never wastes the reader's time pointing out the "obvious." That would be like having a character who lives in Bermuda say to another character, "Honey, I just checked the thermometer, and would you believe it, it is 82 degrees Fahrenheit outside today?" In Bermuda, it is just about always a balmy 82 degrees, every single day. That is so perfectly normal for Bermuda that it borders on the ridiculous to point it out.

The writer wants his reader to make assumptions that are correct about the world, so that his expectations are properly set up, and he can surprise him with a good story. The reader loves a surprise, and the writer can't wait to give him an extraordinary one.

Therefore, in order for a writer to change the real world, the only thing he must do is to make his assumptions about the norms of the world he wants to live in, and then only mention to the reader those attributes of his characters that "differ" from that which is found to be true of the majority of the inhabitants of his created society.

This is why stories about superheroes and extreme villains are so popular. The writer describes good and evil as outside the norm. The reader already knows that not everyone in his real life world is a hero, beginning with himself as an example of just an ordinary guy, and he wants to believe that there are few villains and that their bad behavior will be contained so his own personal safety is not at risk. When the writer depicts a villain and calls attention to their villainy as being far outside the societal norm, the reader is gratified that evil-doers are so easily identified and rare. As the writer describes the heroic efforts of the champion, the reader feels happy to learn that, although evil-fighters braver and stronger than he himself are rare, they exist and will answer the call to duty to protect society, so that he himself may continue on with his ordinary life. The teams of multiple superheroes now in popular movies portray a world in which the reader is made to feel even safer, that no matter how bad the evil is which is faced by society, there will be no need for the reader himself to alter his pattern in daily existence, as more and more others will rise to extinguish the bad guys. It is even better that the good guys rising up look just like ordinary guys like himself, because in real life, when he looks around, all he sees are more ordinary guys. It is comforting to know that some of these ordinary guys are actually superheroes in disguise, and can be counted on to reveal themselves as heroes when needed. The reader knows that he himself is not a superhero in disguise, but can relax without feeling the pressure of being on-call to take on that role. He can relax even though when he looks around his ordinary world he does not see the strong heroes around him: day to day, the truly good guys are incognito.

Regardless

Consider whether you might omit from the beginning of any sentence any single word which is followed by a comma. "Honestly," "frankly," "literally," "regardless," and "actually" are all words that tend to say to the listener, "Whatever you may have heard before now, disregard it, because I am about to say something so much more important, truthful, accurate, and unbiased."

This can have the effect of making one sound pretentious.

However, judicious use of the single word followed by a comma at the beginning of one's sentences can, indeed, accomplish a desired effect. It may serve to wake up the listener and alert him that it is time to start paying attention, because you have been holding out until now with polite conversation, and you are about to convey the one important idea you want him to take away from your discussion.

 

POETRY vs. DRAIN MONSTER

POETRY: 1

DRAIN MONSTER: 0

My muse lurks in my shower, and showers me with poetry as soon as I start to shampoo. Almost always, the inspired words escape and are sucked down the drain by the Bathtub Drain Monster before I can rinse the soap from my eyes, get a hand dry, and reach pen and paper. The verses I allow to get away are usually cute but not vibrant.

However, this morning I managed to capture a particularly vicious haiku and wrestle it to the page!

I am celebrating my hard-won victory with a relaxing session of viewing the snow-scape photos I took while on a drive over the mountains of Sussex County on a winter's day following the season's first flurries.

NOTE: This tiny essay has been provided as a Pubic Service Announcement for writers, to let them know they are not alone in experiencing the saddening, sudden loss of some of their greatest ideas: It happens while showering, driving, having sex, dreaming, jogging, and in countless instances when inspiration hits but one finds oneself otherwise occupied and unable to reach a word-recording device before the Muse jealously takes back her words and refuses to negotiate a ransom.