When to Stop Revising
My mother’s greatest fear for me as a writer is that I’ll never stop revising. When beginning writers learn about revision they always ask, “How do you know when to stop?” My mother, and possibly these students, view revision as a path to perfection—which we know is endless and packed with illusions. I prefer thinking about revision as child-rearing. Even if your twenty-something isn’t fully mature, he’s able to interact in the world on his own. Let him go. That said, most writers (myself included) have a tendency to think their work is done prematurely. My agent worked with me for two years to get my novel in shape. My first publisher asked that I rewrite my memoir with two timeframes rather than three; this took me a full year. So how do we know when to revise and when we’re done? Here are the questions I recommend asking in…
Faith in the Face of Global Warming
Snowless? 45 degree days in January? Sure, like everyone else I’m reveling in the sun’s warmth and I appreciate being able to bike through this winter, but every time fellow Minnesotans wax poetic about this lovely weather I feel an awful sense of doom. The elm trees need long periods of icy temperatures to ward off Dutch Elm disease. Cold wards off the tent caterpillars; it permits native fish to survive in our lakes. I’m afraid the immediate pleasure of warm afternoon walks could blind us to the long-term gifts of our normally cold climate. Emily has begun a weekly Qi Gong practice of praying for the earth’s healing. Usually in such matters I’m infinitely practical: If I want to end global warming, I need to radically change my lifestyle and support those working for systemic change. This is prayer in action. To some small degree I am culpable in…
Language that Shows
When tweaking language during the final stages of revision, strive for clarity first. Language is meant to communicate. Sound, rhythm, pacing, word choice, sentence structure, punctuation, paragraphing—all stylistic choices—should convey the content rather than call attention to themselves. Take Strunk and White’s advice: “The beginner should approach style warily, realizing that it is an expression of self, and should turn resolutely away from all devices that are popularly believed to indicate style—all mannerisms, tricks, adornments. The approach to style is by way of plainness, simplicity, orderliness, sincerity.” But within the scope of clear language are many choices, and fine writers opt for words that show as well as tell. Let’s look at a passage from Patricia Hampl’s I Could Tell You Stories: When I am the reader, not the writer, I too fall into the lovely illusion that the words before me which read so inevitably, must also have been…
Gnawing on Stories
About a year ago Gwyn went to the doctor for an annual check-up and received her two-year immunizations. She screamed the entire visit. Shortly afterward she began requesting the story—“Tell the story about going to the doctor”—three, four, even five times a day. Almost twelve months later we still tell the story with countless variations; we play doctor and “tickle doctor” and acupuncturist and midwife. Every piece of tape is a band-aid. Anything with earplugs is a stethoscope. Gwyn still gnaws on the doctor story fiercely, like a bone. We have many theories about why. Perhaps the shots were traumatic, and she’s trying to understand why her loving moms would let someone inflict her with pain. Emily took her to that two-year appointment after a long recovery from cancer; perhaps the visit was a turning point in their relationship, when Gwyn realized Emily would reliably care for her. Perhaps the…
Modern Spiritual Discipline (12/15/11)
My mother-in-law’s church has issued a spiritual challenge to its members: Buy nothing new for a whole year. In response, support groups have sprung up like weeds. There are purists whose underwear will grow thin, there are realists who gather to weigh alternatives before making a purchase, and there are new communication networks to facilitate the movement of used items between parishioners. Why shouldn’t the retirees clean out their basements and simultaneously help new graduates set up apartments? If Sue needs a lawn mower and Joe has one languishing in the garage, shouldn’t the church play a role in conserving these resources? As an inveterate garage saler and chief proponent of Twice Nice at our annual church bazaar (which, by the way, netted over a grand this year), I get shivers of glee hearing about Epworth’s commitment. I love the alternative economy they’re creating, how individuals are learning to tap…
God’s Great Faith (11/15/11)
After dropping Gwyn off for her first morning of preschool—she was too interested in the puzzles to say goodbye—I came home and cried. I was proud that she was eager and ready; I was thrilled for some extra time in my week; I grieved the seven hours I now won’t see her; and I ached for the baby who is no longer. Mostly I cried because this step is the first in a long progression as Gwyn begins a life quite separate from mine. She’ll make her own friends, eat food I don’t approve of, hear stories that scare her, and be exposed to people and ideas beyond my control. As happens often with parenting, I find myself wondering what my feelings have to teach me about God. Surely the free will we’ve all been granted causes God lots of tears. I take comfort in the thought that this tremendous…
The Small
9.15.11 Despite our determination to teach Gwyn to pick up her toys, our house is littered with things: paperclips moved from the office to her toy kitchen, a nickel on the back of the toilet, Mardi Gras beads in the mixing bowl—you get the picture. I spend a ridiculous amount of time putting things away. At times I get fed up and decide to purge; if we didn’t have so much stuff, Gwyn couldn’t move it. Clutter irritates me; as I pick up, I must work hard not to get annoyed. I hope all the bending over at least counts as exercise. A year ago I began to make peace with the mundane nature of my spiritual path. Others are called to service or silence or ecstasy; my fate is to find God in the details. The doll clothes I discover at the bottom of the laundry chute and must…
Language 2: The Right Word
Great premium is placed on language in our literary culture today. Is it fresh? Is it witty? Does it dazzle? The question I wish reviewers and publishers would ask about language is “Is it true?” We need writers who name the vast diversities of our reality with language that illuminates rather than obscures. Truth, of course, is relative. But the truth I’m referring to isn’t singular or objective; it’s resonant, as full of mystery as fact. We’ve all had the experience of reading a passage that describes a familiar object or event in a way we’ve never considered but which feels absolutely right. Here are a few of my favorites: The rooks too were keeping one of their annual festivities; soaring round the tree tops until it looked as if a vast net with thousands of black knots in it had been cast up into the air; which, after a…
Language 1: Triage
I’m a great proponent of the triage method of revising: Take care of the big problems first and gradually work your way down to the details of language. In the abstract, this is a great philosophy. If there’s such a thing as a time-saver, prioritizing like this is it. And generally writers DO pay more attention to word choice, sentence structure, rhythm and sound the closer they get to publication. But the truth of the matter is that writers, to varying degrees, can’t help but pay attention to language from the very first draft. On one extreme are writers who must perfect each sentence before continuing to the next. While this method works for some, I wouldn’t recommend it, as it poses far too many opportunities for a newer writer to get stuck. Most of us get attached to sentences we’ve polished, and this attachment interferes with our ability to…