Category Archives: Writing Advice

A Brief Frictional Fictional Interview with Myselves

EGO: We’re here tonight with ourself, Marc D. Baldwin, author of An Uprising of Angels. Thanks for inviting us all to speak our mind tonight, Marc.

ID:  Yeah, thanks. We’re all out of our mind, that’s for sure. That’ll be pretty clear to everyone who reads the book.

SUPEREGO: Don’t blow our cover, all right?

I: What do you care? You always were trying to take us all down with your compulsive behavior. Like the time you…

E: Zip it, Id.

The trio stare each other down. With a wry smile and ominous chuckle, Baldwin marshals his selves into one for a moment.

I: Okay, me first.

S: As always.

I: Damn straight.

E: Cut the crap, you two. Just tell the readers why we wrote the book.

I: Why else? So we can let our schizophrenia run wild. The 5 main characters are all us. We seek pleasure. We love darkness. We like to live a little. You know. It’s cool. Right?

S: Why is everything always all about you?

E: Really. Stick to the fiction: the book. It is fiction, right?

I: Oh sure…of course…definitely, right? All made up. Total fiction. You know that.

They share a big laugh, face full of memories making various micro- appearances.

E:  Okay, here’s the deal: We just wanted to make sense of the senseless, right? The worst riot ever in America. Chaos, horror, anarchy. Why? Why did it happen? Because King’s attackers, the cops, were acquitted? Or was that just an excuse to riot and loot and burn and kill? Macetti, now he’s got it down. He and Gunther, they’re heroes, trying to protect the hood from the bad guys.

S: That’s absurd.

E: Me? Absurd? Id’s the absurd one, not me.

I: Got that right. But at least I know I’m absurd, pal. You don’t. You and your phony image of respectability and decency. Don’t make me laugh. You might have the world fooled, but you don’t fool me. You’re closer to being Rayhab and the gangstas than Macetti and Gunther. But they’re all messed up too.  And what’s really the kicker in this book, in our whole life, really, is trying to make sense of the senseless. That’s the definition of absurdity.  Right?

S: Yeah, but you have to try. That’s what Anwar did. He tried hard to help Ishmael avoid getting into gangs. And he tried hard to live a good, straight life.

I:  Gimme a break. He just wanted to screw Sonja. You know that. You set the poor sap up for a big fall….

S: I totally disagree!

Superego flips off Id and looks for support to Ego, who just shrugs. What can you do with a runaway Id?

I: Yeah? Whatta you know about racism, bro? That’s the ultimate absurdity and evil. I’m just part of a white guy, doing my own thing and trying to keep out of my own way. Like most people in L.A. before, during and after the riot. Just trying to get along, man. Live free or die. Don’t screw with me and I won’t screw with you.  Screw with me and look out.

E: Big tough guy.

I: You got it, bro.

S: You make no sense, as usual. I mean, yes, racism is a big part of the book, of course. As it was a major cause of the riot. But really it’s about all people. All colors and ethnicities of real people caught in hell. Trying to survive. It’s good vs. evil, right vs. wrong, love vs. hate, legality vs. criminality. In a word, life.

I: You just love dichotomies, that’s your problem. The world ain’t all black and white, pal. It’s all shades of grey.

S: Like a Motown winter’s day….

I:  Ya know, I could live without you just fine, ya know that? Do whatever I want…

S: Put ketchup on your beans?

I: Yeah. That’s right.

E: Okay, okay. You guys are killing me. Literally. I’m the one who wrote the damn book. It took all my strength to suppress you two long enough to get the words down in some kindof order. And I say Uprising’s about everything we’ve ever known. We’re all in this book, right? All of us, all of everybody. Everything we know, right? Am I right? Everything?

S: Or nothing at all, maybe. Kinda like the whiteness of the whale. The big Moby.

I: Or the blackness of the universe.

E: That’s what I’m saying: it’s about all or nothing. You in or you out? Hold em or fold em. Kill or be killed.

S: There ya go. That’s what it’s about. For real.

The trio nod and bump fists. At peace with one another. For the moment, anyway. Just trying to get along, like Rodney King wanted.

 

 

Approaching Reality, Encroaching on Truth

One of the biggest problems most people have is they think they know what’s real and true. Their reality is the reality; their truth the truth.

Wonderful, Awful Words

A dog is a dog. A house is a house. A job is a job. We can all agree on those words representing the things to which they refer. Right? Common realities and truths. Right?

Wrong.

What specific dog are you talking about when you say “dog”? I hear “dog” and I may picture a kennel full of mutts about to be euthanized, while you may be thinking about Fido who slobbers on your face and makes your heart race with joy.

A house may be your house, a dozen houses, a row of them on skid street. My house may be a home, full of warm memories, making me cry about my little gone girls all grown up and living far away.

Your job might be a dream or a nightmare, what you’ve always wanted or never wanted. I think of “job” and there’s a dozen car lots and a few teaching positions, but mainly now sitting at the computer writing emails and processing editing work.

Writing my novels and these blog essays isn’t a job for me. It’s a pure kick of joy.

The Words Mean What They Don’t

Point? Our realities and truths are definitionally dependent. Words denote and connote. They try to refer to specific things—a dog, a house, a job—but they always refer to very different actualities in our individual brains.

So what you think of one way (cool dog, a house is a house, rotten job), I think of another (dumb animal, my house as my home, my job ain’t my life).

Everybody attaches different denotations to every word. So every reality is different; every truth contingent. (No, I am not a radical relativist. I’ll discuss the distinction another time.)

And connotations? Holy cow, Harry Carey. Just as every word evokes its own specific representation (your word “dog” means something different to you than my word “dog”), every word triggers emotions, feelings, memories, associations.

Take the Rodney King L.A. riot of 1992. It may mean nothing to you: no emotions, no memories, no feelings whatsoever. You can bet it means more than just about anything in their lives to thousands of people who lived through it. The emotions run strong; the memories are seared in their soul’s flesh.

The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round, Round and Round….

So your reality and truth is not my reality and truth. But neither of us is necessarily living in a false world or delusional mindset.

We’re just figures of speech, really. Humans as metaphors, with lives like words—open to interpretation, closed to conformity. Gliding and sliding down an endless slope of signification, where one thing leads to another—eternally.

Not buying it? Then let’s hear another theory for how 10,000 years of human “communication” has led to this current state of global uber-miscommunication that has us all teetering on the brink of total annihilation.  How else to explain it but to blame it on the words themselves? And our failure to compose them into compatible realities and cooperative truths.

 

 

 

10 Academic Writing Tips from PhDs

DR. JOHN Ke SAYS: I think almost everyone would agree that a lot of academic writing leaves a lot to be desired.  It can be dry and tedious, aimed only at the two or three other scholars who do similar work, rather than trying to reach a broader audience.  At its best, academic writing should avoid this.  It should be interesting and accessible to the interested layperson, and help make readers more interested, rather than less, in the topic under discussion.

As with any other writing, I think the key to good academic writing is to find a voice that is genuine and personal.  Writing can only have an effect when it seems to come from a real person.  Of course,  in academic writing one also has to cultivate an “academic” voice – one that is informed and authoritative and conversant with the other literature in the topic.  But that voice ought to also seem like it’s coming from a real person, and it ought to show why you are excited about the topic you are writing about.

If you can’t convey to your readers why you think a topic is interesting and worthy of study, you can’t expect your reader to be interested in it.   Any really good academic writing, like all good writing of any sort, needs to draw the reader in, to make the reader care about the work and understand why it is important and worth doing.

Obviously, there’s much more to successful writing than this – conveying often complicated information clearly and elegantly; finding the structure that works best to present your argument; and finding the tone that shows you are a competent, professional scholar.  But more than any of this, good academic writing must meet the most basic goal of any piece of writing – making a connection to its readers.

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DR. WILLIAM SAYS: Here’s my personal “recipe” for good, academic writing:

The professor who served as my primary advisor for my major and dissertation writing advised me to post a visual reminder to guide my writing: to tape my primary hypothesis on my computer screen so that I never sat down to write without keeping the main thing the main thing.

Nothing’s worse than getting off track in your writing and having to hit that dreaded delete button.

You must be willing to edit your own writing at a very basic level. At least read over your work for missing thoughts, run spell and grammar check, and read your writing out loud.

You also must be willing to let others read your work. They will see things you do not. They will point our areas of confusion that may have made perfect sense in your own mind in the middle of the night. Your team of helpers will fine tune your writing and take it to a higher level.

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DR. JOHN Ku SAYS: Don’t Start with the Introduction!

Unless this is your strength, don’t start with introductory paragraphs or even your introductory chapter.  Most of us are pretty sequential in our thinking.  We do this first, then this, and then that.

With academic papers, this order generally manifests with trying to write our introductions first, then the literature review, followed by the study design, etc.

However, the most effective and efficient approach is to start with sections that you are the most comfortable with, and then move around from section to section.

At some point you’ll begin to organize your logic, and eventually your sections will follow suit.

Another piece of advice, particularly if you are planning on writing a thesis or dissertation, is to first conduct and write-up your literature review.

During my dissertation proposal, when I was wrestling with a topic, I was advised to complete and write a literature review around issues I found interesting.

This was perhaps the best piece of academic advice ever given to me.

After the literature review (or chapter 2 in standard dissertations), I knew my problem statement, the gaps in the research, how similar studies have been conducted, what data collection instruments prior researchers have used, and how my study would contribute to the field.

As a result, the preceding (introduction) and following (proposed method) chapters pretty much wrote themselves after this literature review was complete.

Not bad, for a graduate student who couldn’t narrow down a topic six months before.

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DR. JOHN Ku’s “Six Rules for Good Writing”

In 1946, George Orwell presented an essay critiquing the often vague and boring manner of written English.  Perhaps a similar argument can be made today with academic writing.

When I was a first-year graduate student, I sat next to a dictionary and a pitcher of coffee trying to read long and mundane peer-reviewed scholarly articles.  When it was my turn to produce such content, I caught myself falling into a similar trap.

After years of reading and writing academic material, I now try creating content that can read by non-academics and academics alike.

To prevent you from falling into the vague and boring style of academic writing, Orwell recommends the following six strategies:

  1. Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech, which you are used to seeing in print.
  2. Never use a long word where a short one will do.
  3. If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
  4. Never use the passive where you can use the active.
  5. Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
  6. Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

I’ll add a few recommendations to Orwell’s list:

  • Get to the point
  • Don’t repeat yourself (unless you’re writing to politicians)
  • And usually, the more succinct a manuscript, the better (you can’t hide behind a stick, as my former advisor would say).

 

–by the Staff of Edit911, Inc. and Baldwin Book Publishing

 

How to Write a Constructive Book Review: The Art of Positive Literary Criticism Part 1: The Use and Abuse of Ambiguity

Anybody can say nasty things about anything. It takes no talent or knowledge to rip people or their writing apart. That’s easier than cold-cocking someone in the chops.

I don’t like critics who criticize out of some deluded sense of superiority or delusions of their own grandeur. Sure, some people know more than others about various subjects. That’s a given.

However, what’s harder to do, and infinitely more humble and kind, is to note both a book’s strengths and weaknesses, praising the former and proposing various solutions to the latter—assuming the author may consider a revised 2nd edition. That’s rare, of course, but maybe authors can learn something from your reviews to help them with future books. There’s a novel thought!

The Ambiguity of Art

Ambiguity means having multiple interpretations and invoking multiple reactions and opinions in the reader. It’s the foundational premise upon which we should evaluate and judge art. If we all read the same book, you’re reading it one way and I’m reading it another.

That’s one of the reasons why Seth Godin encourages companies and groups to buy his books in bulk, have everyone read them, and then enjoy a company-wide discussion of its contents. In fact, General Electric just bought [as of June 4, 2011] 5000 copies of Poke the Box to have such a corporate conversation.

Why do we all read the same book a bit differently? Lots of reasons: definitions and connotations of words, our own educational level and worldview, our aesthetic values, preconceptions, misconceptions, and ignorance.

Strong word, “ignorance.” But it informs or misinforms everyone’s lives. The key is to be aware of your ignorance, though many people are too ignorant to even recognize their ignorance. And ignorance leads to nasty, mean-spirited criticism. So if you’re ignorant about something, try to realize that fact and keep your mouth shut until you remedy your ignorance.

Good vs. Bad Ambiguity

The fact is that art is inherently ambiguous. If it’s art, that is. In the world of non-fiction discourse and writing, ambiguity is usually a vice. We have a need to know exactly what each of us is thinking and saying. Ambiguous business transactions, contracts, and negotiations are a vice.

There’s an exception here, however. Sometimes in non-fiction writing, authors make statements or ask questions that may be ambiguous. They do so—that is if they know they’re doing so—to involve the readers, to make the readers examine their own lives and positions by considering multiple angles.

Knowing what you’re doing is a key. If you intentionally mess around with ambiguity, that’s artistic—provided it’s well-executed. But if what you say or write is unintentionally ambiguous, you’re just flat out mixed up and/or a bad communicator.

Ambiguity in a non-fiction work should be used sparingly, for that effect, otherwise we don’t know what to think. And that’s not good.

In art, however, ambiguity is a virtue. Making the reader not know what to think is an element of the greatest fiction. Novelists should absolutely play with readers’ heads, actually. Shake them up. Spark strong emotional responses that confuse them and force them to examine their own feelings and opinions about the subject matter and the dialogue.

When Mrs. Hawthorne read her husband’s new novel entitled The Scarlet Letter, she said it gave her a terrible headache and sent her to bed for a few days. Nathaniel was delighted. He knew then that he’d written a masterpiece.

In most cases, the more ambiguous a work of art, the better it is. Think of Picasso’s paintings. Or Dali’s. Or Beethoven’s symphonies or Frank Lloyd Wright’s architecture. There are as many possible reactions to them as there are people experiencing them.

Ambiguity is Your Friend

In the analysis of art, in this case novels, plays and poetry, you can interpret them differently and not necessarily be wrong. So, be comfortable with ambiguity. Ambiguity is your friend. Since art allows for multiple interpretations, the chances are increased that your interpretation is valid and defensible. The problem is when people get frustrated and see one definite interpretation, or need closure to a story, wanting to know what the ending “means.”

Negative Capability

The great Romantic poet John Keats had some good advice. He had a theory called “negative capability,” which he described as the necessity of “being able to live with doubts and uncertainties without any irritable reaching out after facts.” In the analysis of literature—and life—you will find many uncertainties and have many doubts about what it all “means.” Don’t get irritable and stressed looking for definite answers. There often aren’t any.

Reader-Response

There are many different critical theories, or approaches to analyzing literature, but the one most accessible and natural to most of us is Reader-Response. As I’ve suggested,  since art is ambiguous and consumed by an audience, its ambiguous character invites and empowers the reader to go with her gut response to the work.

The Reader Response approach, thus, encourages and allows your intellectual and intuitive reactions to the stories. You may bring your own life experiences, your knowledge base, generously to bear upon the material. It’s a very self-aware, self-reflexive approach, allowing you to draw analogies to, insights from, and suppositions about the stories from the stored wisdom of your own life.