writing
Notes for a writing manual:
03/17/2011 09:53
If “differential impacts” means the same thing as “different effects,” say “different effects.” Even if it’s a PhD comprehensive exam.
Thoughts while driving
02/04/2011 22:24
I drove home this evening under a clear, cold sky. A sliver of crescent moon was chasing the sunset toward a western hill, to my left. The unlit lunar sphere, above the bowl-shaped crescent, was dimly visible by reflected earthlight. I should have stopped and taken a picture, but I wanted to get home. As I drove on, I had these thoughts about the day…
So I went to this job talk today. And this woman (Heidi Scott from Wales) presented the work she’s been doing. She’s from Cambridge (the one in England), and it was very well grounded in theory. Not only in historiography, but in anthropology and literary theory. She mentioned not only Foucault, but Deleuze and Gauttari (the rhizome theory), which was entirely appropriate for what she was talking about, but it got me thinking…
One of the things that I might try to say in a job talk (or at least, would have ready to say, in answer to a “well what about Foucault” type of question), is that while I appreciate theory, I think it’s part of my mission to talk about history in plain English. If I’m going to be teaching undergrads and writing for the general public, then I need to be able to render high theoretical concepts in language that people familiar with college level (which was once high-school level) English can understand. Because, let’s face it, the number of people who are going to be able and willing to decode neologisms and jargon borrowed from the French, is vanishingly small.
I do think that it’s part of the mission of people who want to teach undergraduates and write histories for the general public, to translate the best historical ideas available into plain language. Just as it’s the mission of people like Michio Kaku and Brian Greene to translate quantum physics and superstring theory into plain language and suitable metaphor. And I think this is really important.
I don’t think historical writing for the general public has to be empty of theory. I think the public likes a good, idea-driven (even thesis-driven) story. If the idea is important, relevant, compelling. Books like this can sell well, and more to the point, they play an important role in our culture. Without them, the game goes by default to people peddling simplistic, pandering propaganda (you know who I’m talking about).
I need to be able to express this idea-rich, smart, analytically complex view of history in plain language. If I do it well, it will make sense to regular people. Certain academics may object, who are accustomed to hearing these ideas expressed in a certain type of vocabulary. But they think what Hemingway did in The Old Man and the Sea was easy and trivial, too.
Anyone who is even a little prone to talking to themselves should try this. Get a digital recorder. Turn the music off, on your drive home, and start talking about the day. What about that job talk you listened to? What about the sections you led? The class you attended? The book you read? After a while, ideas start to flow really easily. Some of them will turn out to be good ones.
Don’t forget to transcribe them someplace, so you can find them when you need them.
So I went to this job talk today. And this woman (Heidi Scott from Wales) presented the work she’s been doing. She’s from Cambridge (the one in England), and it was very well grounded in theory. Not only in historiography, but in anthropology and literary theory. She mentioned not only Foucault, but Deleuze and Gauttari (the rhizome theory), which was entirely appropriate for what she was talking about, but it got me thinking…
One of the things that I might try to say in a job talk (or at least, would have ready to say, in answer to a “well what about Foucault” type of question), is that while I appreciate theory, I think it’s part of my mission to talk about history in plain English. If I’m going to be teaching undergrads and writing for the general public, then I need to be able to render high theoretical concepts in language that people familiar with college level (which was once high-school level) English can understand. Because, let’s face it, the number of people who are going to be able and willing to decode neologisms and jargon borrowed from the French, is vanishingly small.
I do think that it’s part of the mission of people who want to teach undergraduates and write histories for the general public, to translate the best historical ideas available into plain language. Just as it’s the mission of people like Michio Kaku and Brian Greene to translate quantum physics and superstring theory into plain language and suitable metaphor. And I think this is really important.
I don’t think historical writing for the general public has to be empty of theory. I think the public likes a good, idea-driven (even thesis-driven) story. If the idea is important, relevant, compelling. Books like this can sell well, and more to the point, they play an important role in our culture. Without them, the game goes by default to people peddling simplistic, pandering propaganda (you know who I’m talking about).
I need to be able to express this idea-rich, smart, analytically complex view of history in plain language. If I do it well, it will make sense to regular people. Certain academics may object, who are accustomed to hearing these ideas expressed in a certain type of vocabulary. But they think what Hemingway did in The Old Man and the Sea was easy and trivial, too.
Anyone who is even a little prone to talking to themselves should try this. Get a digital recorder. Turn the music off, on your drive home, and start talking about the day. What about that job talk you listened to? What about the sections you led? The class you attended? The book you read? After a while, ideas start to flow really easily. Some of them will turn out to be good ones.
Don’t forget to transcribe them someplace, so you can find them when you need them.
Comix, blogs, writing
03/24/2010 21:15
One of the things I really like about this class is that we’re not limiting ourselves to academically oriented tools, to learn about writing. We’ve talked about the LoTR DVD directors’ commentary, and read Stephen King’s book, Rabiner’s Thinking Like Your Editor, Strunk & White, and now McCloud. I think this has been really helpful. Proof will be in the pudding, of course...
I had some thoughts about my rural history project on my drives to and from school today. An hour in the car with no music can be a good thing. The people I was researching last week had a lot of difficulty obtaining money in the country. It got me thinking about credit and the velocity of money in urban and rural settings. Some notes about it on my rural blog.
We also talked more about how much it’s smart to divulge in blogs. I’ve started being a little more careful about how much I tell about my research. There’ll be time enough once I’ve written (and sold) the book, to talk about the details and all the cool stuff that gets left on the cutting room floor. In the meantime, though, there are a lot of books to read and a couple of conference papers to write. So that should keep me flush with content.
