On Lists

During my childhood, Mom instilled in me the value of to-do lists, which has lasted all my life. They help me remember and prioritize my activities when I feel stressed, and I find it incredibly satisfying to cross items off once they’re complete.  Doing so is a sign I’ve eliminated one source of chaos in my life and have regained some measure of organization and control.  Unfortunately, I’ve noticed I also tend to use lists in my prose--or rather, to overuse them.

Excessive listing is a literary failing I must constantly resist or, failing that, revise to avoid or reduce.  Though this tendency stems from my desire for linguistic precision, even I am aware that a piece with list after list quickly becomes dull.  There’s a reason most people dislike reading the beginning and end of Numbers in the Old Testament!  (My daily devotion had me read Numbers, chapter 2 today--a coincidence I didn’t recall when I started this post.)

            Now, in a larger sense, what is an essay but a list of reasons and details in support of a thesis?  By the same token, what is a story but a list of events and actions and feelings?  Yet somehow, skilled writers keep such lists from resembling a dry recitation and maintain the thoroughness they provide: Writers connect them with transitions, intersperse them with narratives, and expand them with details; they vary the lists from words to sentences to phrases to paragraphs to clauses.  The result is a flowing, organized progression of thought that is more than its constituent parts.