Let's Talk About Writing

Why? Why not. Writing is a kind of thinking. Especially blogging, since the point of it is to get it out there. To be honest, I have not honed the art of the argument; I have a lot of work to do in developing my mind before I'm there.

The question in writing is whether to write down whatever it is you just thought. Is that important? Does it support what I'm trying to do? Okay, so outlines help, but do they really? I find outlines are quickly abandoned. Perhaps I simply lack discipline.

Writing is a train of thought, but I cannot bring myself to lay the tracks in an ordered way. They just go wherever they want to go. Then, when I've written a little bit of writing, I go back to the start. What was I trying to say again? Oh, yeah. Well, I guess I'll just repeat it, think it again, and this time I'll see what words come to mind to say it. And the words are always different. And the cat is on the counter again, so I have to go put him on the floor. Where was I?

In writing, the writer is trying to reproduce the pattern of thoughts that exist in our minds. The writer is trying to lead the reader from point A to point Z, through points B, C, D, and so on. me though, as a reader, I am rarely so receptive. Never grateful for a path laid out for me. I'm always heading off. I try to get through a work, but if I engage it, then I am distracted from it. If I let myself get caught up in this other man's thoughts, then I forget that I'm reading, and my comprehension and retention are reduced to nothing. Or, if I read while thinking of other things, my eyes move across the page, but my brain doesn't pick up any of it.

So, writing. Now the cat is in my lap. Now he wants to overturn the wastebasket, which has empty jerky packages in it. Those two sentences were not in chronological order; I obviously couldn't have written them while dealing with the cat.

The writer has to be able to freeze-frame the thought process. He has to capture each moment as a photograph in words. The photograph portrays a thoughtscape, not a landscape. Thus, it is never enough for the writer to merely think. Otherwise he would speak. Speech can take place in real time. An audio-video recording device can preserve a thought process. Only writing can create a totally new one. Only writing can create something from the ground up.

But can it be done? Has anyone ever done it? Perhaps not. The problem with charting out a thought process is that the terrain to be encountered in each mind is different. How can you anticipate the attitudes that your text is going to be encountering as it plunges through the space of the mind. Well, good writers do anticipate objections. They anticipate the most common objections. The objections that they themselves had as they were exploring this idea in their mind. However, it is impossible to anticipate all objections. For one thing, not all objections are equally valid as each other. To be sure, no objection is truly valid. The nature of an objection is that it contradicts the text in question. The objection is a challenge. One or the other must be sustained. This is a zero-sum game. If the objection is valid, it kills the argument. But if the objection is not valid, which must be shown by the argument itself or in a supporting statement demonstrating the bankruptcy of the objection, then the argument kills the objection.

Valid or not, objections do tend to arise. As I have already stated, the skilled writer predicts common objections. He does this through his education and through his knowledge of the reader, who probably has some education in common with the writer. Obviously they share a language, unless the work is in translation.

The skilled reader learns to ignore the objections that arise in the corners of his mind, threatening to overshadow his understanding of the text in question. The reader assimilates what is needed, and even compensates for any extraneous writing that the writer has included. For example, a reader who does not share a certain opinion expressed can simply disregard the opinion while continuing to assimilate the useful knowledge that is contained within the work, even if the only useful knowledge is the fact that the writer does purportedly hold the opinion expressed.

However, it is not enough for someone to write something down. That does not make it an opinion. Note that I said "purportedly". Some readers read believing that the writer means everything he says. This is not necessarily the case. This is also why writing is both superior to and more dangerous than speech. A writer has many different options for what he writes down. A speaker has fewer. A speaker only has access to the thoughts that he currently holds in his mind at the moment. The writer has months or years to revise. (Objection: Some speakers practice and hone the same speech repeatedly; Defense: these are more akin to writers than speakers, in the sense that I am using here.)

When a writer writes, he will consider several alternative methods of expressing the idea, before typing it out. Or, he may even type out several examples, trying out the best one before committing to it, and moving on to the next portion of his argument. I know I'm doing a bad job at arguing any single point. I have not created a thesis for this blog post.

Yes, people seem to prefer theses, but there is something liberating about just writing to discuss, not to come to conclusions. Besides, no one comes to clear conclusions anymore anyways. Even in the

Damn! The roof is leaking, and my bowl is full. I have to go empty it. I'll be right back.

It's kind of funny. I think a very large number of thoughts about certain other individuals. For example, my mother. Or my brother. Or my friend. And yet, if I am to go and write a letter to them, how can I express these multitudinous thoughts? I must selectively choose what to say to them in order to evince a desired response. I want my mother to know that I love her, but isn't that the part that you put at the end of the letter? And isn't it evidence enough that I am writing to her? I want her to know that I am well, but again, the letter itself is evidence of that fact. I want her to know that I enjoyed our last visit. Ah! Good, something concrete. I want her to know that I'm looking forward to our next visit. Well, it stands to reason that if I tend to enjoy our visits, then obviously I'd be looking forward to the next one, so that's out. Shall I send her news? The problem with news is that I have already shared anything newsworthy with her on the telephone. Perhaps with instant global communications, letter-writing is forever going to die. And yet, I do want something permanent by which to remember our relationship.

Still there are many things I could write. Some are true. Some are not true. Some will only become true by virtue of them being written down. There are feelings invented for the purpose of a letter. In writing a letter to my mother, my main purpose is to make my mother happy. Feelings can be assumed.

And, I have to go to work. I have a lot more to say on this subject, but it is not organized. Just looking back over what I've written, I see several places where I'd like to clarify my thoughts, and address objections that I've thought of. But if I don't get in the shower right now, I'll be late for work.