Life Sentences

Ock! The phone. It distracts. Put it away. Concentrate. 

One must concentrate on writing. One must concentrate on the writing. Funny how the definite article can transform a mundane practice into a profound vocation. 

I’m reading a book on the art of writing sentences. Or dare I say, the art of writing the sentence. The mighty sentence is the living cell, the basic building block, of writing. If you are like me, it’s easy to confuse writing and life. Reading is in there, too. You can’t snap your fingers, and boom!, there’s a sentence. We are not Gawd, but mere mortals. There are rumors even Gawd needs several drafts and editing. I find that reassuring. It supports my theory humanity is a rough first draft. It gives me hope. I imagine Gawd at the celestial desk, working through the night, revising and rearranging, feeling the pressure of an apocalyptic deadline like I do. 

Sentences take work. They take time. They require attention, care, and love. You birth them like children and raise them until they leave the nest for a life of failure, success, and everything in between. 

You can look at writing a sentence materially, like forging steel. You write a sentence then polish and polish and polish the shit out of it until it blinds. Maybe by some syntactical alchemy it comes to life and sings like Dolly Parton or roars like Aslan advancing upon the fortress of the White Witch. Joe Moran says this is possible, yet not in those words. I’m testing how far I can go before my creative license is revoked for recklessness. I see red and blue lights. 

Joe Moran is a Writer. I use the upper case “W” because he has published a ton of books, at least nine. I find that very cool and enviable. I still hold the dream of being published. I’ve self-published one book. For me, publishing just one book with a real live publisher, no matter how big or small, would equal a “ton.” Joe Moran is smart. Joe Moran is a professor. He is English. I think he is from the North. He studied in Leeds. That’s Yorkshire, the land of moors, dales, gorse, heather, The Secret Garden, and Wuthering Heights. With that in mind, I’ll assume he’s an okay Englishman. If I find he’s from south of Birmingham, I will revise my opinion. Drawing the line at Birmingham is generous. 

No matter his geographical disposition, listen to him. I do when he writes about shaping coherent, occasionally dazzling, sentences. He says it is not easy. He is right. It requires diligence to hone a sentence. The sentence must be served. One must practice the art/craft day in, day out, and perhaps some day, one will write not only good sentences, but perhaps one, or perhaps more, great sentences. Dear Gawd! Is that even possible? To write just one, much less two or more, is something beyond my ken. It has been done. Pick up A Tale of Two Cities, or, if you’re adventurous, anything by James Joyce, especially Ulysses. Where else are you going to get a snot green sea? 

If you are going to write a good sentence, much less a great sentence, it helps to have something to say. At this time, I have nothing more to say, other than I will return to my big fluffy armchair to read First You Write a Sentence. The Elements of Reading, Writing…and Life, by Mr. Moran. He has much to say about how to say things. 

See the book at Amazon. No, I don’t get a commission and I don’t give a damn. Just read the book and make the world a better place.