Perusing the web for an article on active and passive voice usage in business communication (for my professional writing students) I stumbled across Ed Barr's really great blog.
My favorite recent posting is entitled "You only need two words."
I think this concept of "concision as emphasis" is fabulous for professional writing students, and in some ways can be a basis for creative writing as well. It's not always about how much detail you can add. It's not the fancy words or the beautifully extended metaphor. Often the most profound messages stand out simply because of their, well, simplicity.
To me, these statements share another commonality, (which I've fixated on since I just prepared a lecture about sentence structure). These two-word sentences only include a subject and a verb. An object is not included, not necessary. These sentences focus on the action of a single entity, and declare a type of singularity. One person, one action, one moment, one impact. These sentences expand emotionally because they define only a single point out there somewhere. It is the reader's responsibility, then, to position herself in regards to the sentence. "How does this change me, now?" she might ask. What has ultimately been accomplished, then, is a sentence that necessarily engages the reader by not dictating how she must relate to that new information. Relationships are made, but they are more profound since the reader is part of the process. She understands.
Showing posts with label metaphor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label metaphor. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
What's in a Name? - Note on the title of this blog
As a developing writer and poet, I was obsessed with metaphors. And etymologies. But most especially homophones.
Trying to name a blog is like trying to name a new puppy. What can I imagine saying out loud that won't make me gag in 2 years time. Or alternatively, what doesn't sound like a generic dog-name, or in this case, blog-name, but still works as a functional title.
I ran the gamut of boring titles and overly-syrupy metaphors. Why? Because I have a thing for threes. I built a collaborative arts project around the number three, and I realized my blog needs to cover three near-and-dear topics:
1) Composition
2) Marketing
3) Food
Now, pick any two (like a lunch-counter combo) and you're fine for titles. But "adding on" makes the title buffet get awfully picked-over, awfully fast. Food metaphors aside, I've spent a lot of time working over the title in my mind, like dough, and I finally turned to an old standby--the Wikipedia disambiguation pages--and stumbled upon what is the linguistic equivalent to a slap in the face: PROOF.
I teach students to do this, I've made a living fixing colleagues' errors on junk mail, and I've had a hankering to learn how to make a really good artisan loaf. Let's face it, my past, present, and future are all based on this little word. PROOF, to save you the lengthy definition, serves my blog in, let's see, three ways.
3) It's the process of leavening, it's the "rising" that makes bread a food of texture, not just taste.
2) It's the process of copyediting and of revision, it's half of the time you spend creating a written piece.
1) It's the process of establishing of the truth of anything, it's the demonstration that leads others to knowledge.
It's the PROOF, the action, that gives meaning and fullness to the SHAPE, the original form and the idea(l).
Trying to name a blog is like trying to name a new puppy. What can I imagine saying out loud that won't make me gag in 2 years time. Or alternatively, what doesn't sound like a generic dog-name, or in this case, blog-name, but still works as a functional title.
I ran the gamut of boring titles and overly-syrupy metaphors. Why? Because I have a thing for threes. I built a collaborative arts project around the number three, and I realized my blog needs to cover three near-and-dear topics:
1) Composition
2) Marketing
3) Food
Now, pick any two (like a lunch-counter combo) and you're fine for titles. But "adding on" makes the title buffet get awfully picked-over, awfully fast. Food metaphors aside, I've spent a lot of time working over the title in my mind, like dough, and I finally turned to an old standby--the Wikipedia disambiguation pages--and stumbled upon what is the linguistic equivalent to a slap in the face: PROOF.
I teach students to do this, I've made a living fixing colleagues' errors on junk mail, and I've had a hankering to learn how to make a really good artisan loaf. Let's face it, my past, present, and future are all based on this little word. PROOF, to save you the lengthy definition, serves my blog in, let's see, three ways.
3) It's the process of leavening, it's the "rising" that makes bread a food of texture, not just taste.
2) It's the process of copyediting and of revision, it's half of the time you spend creating a written piece.
1) It's the process of establishing of the truth of anything, it's the demonstration that leads others to knowledge.
It's the PROOF, the action, that gives meaning and fullness to the SHAPE, the original form and the idea(l).
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