(Note) Some wise author once pointed out that writing is a joint enterprise: the writer tries hard to be as clear as possible and the reader tries equally hard to understand. If that sounds like too much effort right now, you may want to just skip these five bloggers. They are a bit less than transparent.
Blogger One:
As an impressionable undergraduate at Ohio University, there were dozens if not hundreds of potential areas of study for me to sample. Here is where I add something like, “They ranged from architecture to zoology” or even better, “from A to Z.” Let me also add a little personal data by noting I dipped into all that intellectual plenty and pulled the philosopher card. Doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief and with virtually no hesitation, I picked philosopher. A very natural and logical choice, don’t you think?
I recall telling old people (everyone too old to be an eighteen-year-old college student) I was majoring in philosophy. I got reactions from “That’s nice,” to “Why?” The “Why?” reactions eventually got me to thinking but that is a story for another post. No, I was not thinking much one way or the other right then. I was practicing being a philosopher. Thinking could wait.
With my friends (mostly other eighteen-year-old college students) I tried not to mention anything about majors or philosophy. If I slipped, they usually didn’t say anything. They mostly snickered and nodded their heads. Eye rolling was not big at O.U. back then. They did tend to perk up some when I mentioned being into logic, e.g., All men are mortal; Plato was a man; therefore…. “Would you have time to help me with…?” It was like suddenly being labeled as a geek of sorts, all be it a potentially useful geek. It tended to interfere with my plans for the rest of the time when I was not practicing being a philosopher.
On those rare occasions when I did attempt conversation incorporating a few of the more esoteric philosophical concepts and notions, “bore” seemed to characterize how I and my contributions to the discussion were perceived. I think that precipitated a life-long fear of being boring and generally uninteresting. It’s like that one youthful experience eventuating in unacknowledged trauma and periodic immobility. Ok, it wasn’t actually that bad but it certainly was the pits. Being boring was to be avoided whenever possible.
Now fast forward. I recently came across this from John Updike, “One out of three hundred and twelve Americans is a bore… and a healthy male adult bore consumes each year one and a half times his own weight in other people’s patience.” What do you think the chances are of an eighteen-year-old college student who is rarely but still occasionally boring progressing for a few decades without becoming one of Updike’s healthy male adult bores? Does slim to none ring any bells? It gets worse. Someone who was probably so boring no one remembers his name pointed out, “The worst thing about a bore is not that he won’t stop talking, but that he won’t let you stop listening.”
We have come full circle. An eighteen-year-old college student naively pulls the philosopher card and inadvertently sets himself on a path to becoming a healthy male adult bore people duck away from to escape the storm of esoteric gibberish. Fortunately, this post has been mostly speculative, at least I hope it has, especially the part about people ducking away. Even so, there may be a lesson in there about social reciprocity and the ever-present risk of exposing the bore in all of us. Let me leave the analysis of that possibility to those who also pulled the philosopher card in their youth. For now, let this suffice.
You have some very wise advice.
Your analysis is compelling.
First think once and then think twice.
Your point may not survive the telling.
Blogger Two:
Now! Immediately, without further delay. This is the moment of truth, the instant when I either do it or give up all pretension.
There you have it in twenty-five words or less. – two less but whose counting? I’m sending a thumbs up to Eva Young who said, “To think too long about doing a thing often becomes its undoing.” I know I’m probably being redundant but I’ve got to add that Olin Miller makes the same point, “If you want to make an easy job seem mighty hard, just keep putting off doing it.” “Putting off an easy thing makes it hard. Putting off a hard thing makes it impossible.” This follow-up from George Claude Lorimer was just too right to resist. The famous Anonymous saw through it though. “The road to success is dotted with many tempting parking places.”
My poking around may not have pushed me back to my keyboard and the next post for my blog but there are definitely a plethora of very clever tidbits for intellectual munching. For instance, consider this. “Only Robinson Crusoe had everything done by Friday.” The author is unknown and that is just as well since it means absolutely nothing. Even so, it is clever enough I wish I had said it first.
And then there are those examples of silliness from people who for sure should have known better. “It’s not that I’m so smart, it’s just that I stay with problems longer.” “Not so smart?” Get serious Professor Einstein. At least you are not hanging out there by yourself in silliness land. Try this from Thomas Foxwell Buxton. “With ordinary talent and extraordinary perseverance, all things are attainable.” Does “LeBron James” for example, cause you any second thoughts about sticking to your assertion?
At least William Feather was somewhat more equivocal when making pretty much the same point, “Success seems to be largely a matter of hanging on after others have let go.” Of course, Persius put it most succinctly, “He conquers who endures.”
Can I have one more from the clever category, pretty please? “Big shots are only little shots who keep shooting.” I promise to take Christopher Morley’s clever words to heart and keep shooting. I know I haven’t yet gotten around to any serious blogging and am probably shortchanging you with this post. Next time I am definitely shooting for a real post, something more substantial than merely spring-boarding off the clever work of others.
I procrastinate, knowing it is hard to start.
I procrastinate, contemplating what wisdom to impart.
I procrastinate, hoping to create great art.
I procrastinate, unaware as you silently depart.
Tediously prolonged writing is, well, tedious. It quickly leads to weariness and an inability to give a fig about what comes next. Bluntly, it prompts the sincere hope nothing comes next. Moreover, it dissipates any remaining interest in whatever preceded it. Point:
Write more if you must.
Include everything you know.
In this truth do trust.
I left a few paragraphs ago.
An absence of boldness may be no more than mere diffidence rooted in a lack of self-confidence and minimal faith in one’s creative capacity. It may stem from shyness and discomfort with self-assertion. It rarely is but also may be a simple matter of personal preference and a conscious desire to call no unnecessary attention to oneself. For writers, however, it more typically reflects a fear of rejection, ridicule, and rude gestures. Whatever the source, successful writers enthusiastically emulate Star Trek’s Captain Jean-Luc Picard as they “boldly go where no one has gone before.” Point:
You may be reticent and restrained.
Taciturnity is a perfect fit.
Such constraint must not be maintained.
Loosen up and get over it.
Great writers are concise and come quickly to the point. They write clearly and distinctly, boldly putting forth their views and opinions. They are neither tedious nor timid. Just as they do not hold back for fear of rejection or ridicule, they do not trample on the good will and sensitivities of their audience. They refrain from the unnecessary and unwarranted, avoid the gratuitous and hurtful, refuse the banal and trite. They cherish their unique voice and obsessively censor everything it says. Point:
Write each word with conscious intention.
Getting it right is an enviable knack.
Each word deserves careful attention.
Once published, you can’t take it back.
I sat down to write this post. As you can guess, sitting did not automatically trigger great insight or imagination.
Sitting is certainly not a prerequisite for writing as most any teenager knows. I think were we to conduct a scientific survey, we would discover less than 4 in 37 people under twenty years old ever sit when writing unless required to do so in school or other similarly controlling environment. This may be an overly optimistic estimate if texting is considered to be writing.
I asked a conveniently available teen about texting and learned little about the habits of texters but was assured the Guinness record is not held by a teenager. Rather it is held by an adult (Deepak Sharma) who is definitely old enough to know better. Mr. Sharma averaged over six thousand texts a day for a month. Does “Get a life,” seem to fit here? This may not still be the record but if not, I really don’t want to know.
Since we are just chatting while I wait for an inspiration, there is also a fast texting record. Melissa Thompson of Salford, England (according to the same conveniently available teen) texted this test message in 25.94 seconds. “The razor-toothed piranhas of the genera Serrasalmus and Pygocentrus are the most ferocious freshwater fish in the world. In reality….” The test message continues but you get the idea. She texts really really fast.
Is there anything to conclude from these two records (Deepak for prolific texting and Melissa for speed texting) we might want to file away for further thought? Actually, I doubt it but let me suggest this only as a possibility. As with texting, how much and how fast have little bearing on how well when sitting down to write a post. Readers are unlikely to care much about how many words I write and even less about how quickly I write them. At least, speed and quantity are not high on the quality criteria list.
That prompts me to wonder if there may not be an acceptable quantity/speed range for most things in our lives. Perhaps there is too much and not enough, too fast and too slow, with “good enough” in-between. We are inundated with advice and demands to do better, to strive for perfection, to reach farther, and to generally exceed whatever we are currently doing. What if for most things there is a good enough area for each of us where we can relax, feel comfortable, be satisfied with ourselves and our performance, and simply decide not to put anymore effort, energy, or emotion into it.
We can call all those activities the “Good Enough Stuff” and where we keep them our GES Box. The more we put into our GES Box, the more time, opportunity, and emotional energy we have for a few (very few) activities where getting it right the first time, on time, every time is important, actually matters to us, and will still matter a month from now, a year from now, i.e., it truly does matter.
Let’s call this our “Matters To Me Stuff” and our special place to keep it our MTM Box. This is a tiny box we can keep in our pocket so we always have it with us. It holds our personal priorities, those activities we sincerely value. It’s where we keep our valuables for frequent examination and action.
I admit to being tempted to expand on this but will follow my own advice. That’s enough for this sit.
I have two boxes labeled GES and MTM.
I am particular about what goes into them.
MTM is reserved for my very best.
GES is where I toss the rest.
Trying to write without the support of my muse is tough. I miss her a lot and hope she returns soon. My grandson pointed out Charles Osborne had hiccups for six years. I only mention this to remind us that writing this post could get far worse. I could be trying to keyboard while hiccupping. Do you have that picture? Yep, it could be much worse.
WC Fields once said, “Horse sense is the thing a horse has which keeps it from betting on people.” That may seem like a complete non-sequitur but for this. I have made a little bet on me to complete this post and you are taking a small flyer yourself by reading it. If fields was right…. Let’s not go there. Spend too much time with that thought and it’s not much of a leap to focusing on which end of the horse and our relationship to it. With that, it seems I best put that old horse in the barn and call this a post.
If you want a stable partner with no risk of remorse, get a horse.
Your faithful equine friend will never ask you to divorce, get a horse.
If your hiccups won’t stop and your muse has taken flight, get a horse.
You can bunk with your stable partner and never have to write, get a horse.
Now you know so there you go.
For now, be well, do well and do something nice for someone. He or she will appreciate it and you both will have a better day.