Stephen King has long been a favourite--the man can write.
King was the sign I was looking for. A liberator. I can't say I'm enamoured of all his tales. That's a matter of taste. But as a writer? I worship the guy. He cuts clean.
Yes, I know that should be "he cuts cleanly". Thing is, I'm trying to get out from under decades of good grammar where that becomes a barrier to meaning, when it should be quite the opposite.
It is not an easy journey for an analytical fellow raised by a librarian proud of an extraordinary vocabulary and precise grammar, her son with capacities whetted by experience of governance, business, academia and (increasingly) community building. All of these spheres have a particular expectation of language and communications. Some of them depend on not being an exemplar of excellence in writing (seomthing to ponder). Still, without being pedantic, I think good grammar does not obviate “plain language.” Plain language need not abandon precision. Clarity in meaning is important, even when its purpose is to invite an interpretation beyond that clear meaning. Indeed, perhaps that is when it is most important.
It’s a struggle. I'm trying. Frequent typos won't do it. I'm a master of the typo. That's one reason why my drive to write risks being crushed under a compulsion to edit.
He cuts clean means that his language is admirable for its lack of pretension, for its directness, for the way it captures something visceral.
I remember a moment many years ago, reading a collection of short stories by Stephen King, when I realized that he was simply a great writer. I think I was somewhat surprised—all that horror movie stuff had me thinking otherwise. Blood and gore and what I thought of as schlock. Yet right in my hand was a thing of beauty, and with that realization, I gained an insight to the craft of language. I love it. Always have. And here was something real in my hands that reflected that same love.
I'll have some prejudices to jettison as I move forward. I'll go through a period of jettisoning too much, I know. I'll forego punctuation in odd ways, experimenting. I'll force myself to trash grammar...sometimes. That may help me see the “clean cut” that I can reassess more fully. I'll fail at expressing the meaning I intend, until I manage to do it. And, I’ll circle back to defend the very grammar I trash. (Don’t get me started on pronouns and the mental gymnastics involved in a declaration of he/him that does not reek of patriarchal posturing of support for an identity while making damn sure everyone knows you are not one of them.)
Wish me luck.
Meanwhile, dear Reader, I'll commit to writing more, and reading more toward refining my toolkit as paragraphs form themselves and my conscious wrestling with words becomes a flow of ideas.
On occasion, I'll tag a post "reading" to reveal who and what is provoking thought. This time, it is Stephen King On Writing--a memoir of the craft.