On a Few New Haiku (and Senryu)

Summer means weeding. (Ugh.) And mosquitoes. (Triple ugh.) I tried to use haiku to capture this "ugh-ness":

gardening—

mosquitoes in the coolness

or heatstroke at noon

~~~

(I thought of changing this next one, but realized I liked the play on morning / mourning.)

How unfortunate!

Mosquitoes also like

morning gardens.

Recently, I stayed up past 2 am (whoops) to read a new book. I didn't finish, but burning eyes and droopy eyelids finally convinced me it was time to stop (for a few hours, anyway). That incident inspired the following two senryu:

Reading—

time suspends itself

in ambush

~~~

A new book—

such a late hour, but

only the cat snores. (And it's such a funny snore, too!)



As I was reading, one of those teeny green grasshoppery things spent some time hopping between my blanket, wall, and lamp cover. (...One quick Google search later—the creature is a leafhopper, from the family Cicadellidae.   The one I saw looks most similar to the subfamilies(?) Iassine, Empoasca, or Balclutha.) The little fellow became the mental trigger—though clearly not the subject—of the next poem: 

Drawn to the flame and

blind to the open window—

Tragically unsaved.


I wrote this next one in honor of a friend of mine. By God's grace, she turned away from substance abuse to serve Christ, and one of the turning points happened when God sent a downpour on her birthday. Ever since, she's prayed for rain on that day and looks forward to it more than any other gift. She's gotten it each year. :) I made several attempts to convey her story in haiku form, and I like this the best—in part because of the multiple meanings of "clean" (literal, idiomatic, and spiritual).

Another year clean—

she praises the Lord
for her birthday rain.

On the Deplorable Misuse of Commas

I recently “bought” a free Kindle book.  The characters and situation intrigued me, but I kept putting it down in frustration because it was rife with grammatical errors--misspellings, awkward wording, fragments, and run-ons.  In particular, the frequent lack of proper commas slowed my reading, created confusing sentences, and jarred me from the action, thus detracting from my overall enjoyment.  I was dismayed.  Such a great story!  Where was the author’s editor?  How did the author manage to publish it in that state!?  Oh, yes--by not charging anything.

I confess that I didn’t fully understand when to use commas until I became a tutor and had to teach others when to use them.  After studying them properly, I realized how essential they are for the readability of a text.  Yet more and more, I’ve seen an increase in the number of writers--from students to Amazon authors--who disregard their importance and willfully disdain to learn their rules.  As for why, the ease of releasing text messages, blogs, online novels, and so forth has inundated us with poorly edited language, so much that I suspect we’ve become inured to it.  We now find comma-related errors in everything from church bulletins to newsprint to bestselling books.  In my work as a tutor, I’ve even heard some students declare that correct grammar looks “wrong.”  (I could comment here on the state of public high school education, but it would sidetrack from my point.)  In short, the proper usage of commas in every medium has been going downhill, and I find it deplorable.

I am not keen to debate the respective merits of descriptive and prescriptive grammar here. On a topic such as this, however, one would do well to keep in mind these different perspectives: Descriptive grammar simply describes how people currently use a language, without saying whether it’s right or wrong.  Prescriptive grammar is the opposite--the collective “rules” of a language, devised by “experts” from current or previous grammatical trends and enforced by editors and teachers on both nonstandard dialects and succeeding generations.  

Any sensible person would agree that a certain amount of “prescription” is necessary in education for students to cultivate a common tongue and clear communication.  Still, a “living” language continually changes; we do not now write in the style of Chaucer or Shakespeare or Ben Franklin or Hawthorn, or even Mark Twain.  With language in constant flux, people will continually debate which changes should become part of our language’s prescriptive grammar, and which they should discourage from continued use.  For example, we’ve thankfully done away with the prescriptive rule about not splitting infinitives, which was misguidedly based on Latin rather than English grammar, and I wouldn’t be surprised if “they” will one day be accepted as the singular, neutral form of “he or she,” considering its frequent (currently "incorrect") use as such in both speech and writing.  

Now, what of commas?  From a descriptive point of view, for whatever reason, most modern writers do not use them consistently nor in accordance with the “rules.”  Shall we say, then, that prescriptive grammar should follow the majority and let some of the comma rules slide into oblivion?  Who decides which ones are unnecessary for clarity?  For as many cases in which a comma must be used to avoid confusion, other examples for the same rule may demonstrate that the sentence comes across clearly without one.  I, however, believe our current rules are valid and should be promoted as they are.

The uninitiated may not quite realize how, without proper commas, we are often forced to reread to capture the right meaning.  Upon sensing an error in our understanding, our eyes and mind dart back through the text, reinterpret the sentence, and continue on their way, rarely dwelling on the passage long enough to comprehend why they stumbled over the sentence the first time.  Other times, however, the confusion is so grave that we’re jolted unpleasantly out of the story and must study the sentence multiple times to guess at the author’s intended meaning.  The culprit may be poor wording or, just as often, a missing or misplaced comma.  For instance, “That night lights inside her apartment shone bright as day.”  “Night lights” at first seems like the subject of the sentence, but if so, “that” ought to read as “the” or “those,” so it’s surely incorrect.  A comma after night would clearly separate the setting (“that night”) from the subject (“lights”), helping the reader comprehend the sentence correctly the first time through.

Despite the likelihood of confusing readers, many authors insist on using their “natural grammar” in opposition to prescriptive rules and even logic.  For instance, many would rather place commas wherever they take a breath--even though a hasty or overly-careful reading may result in very peculiar pauses indeed.  (For instance, “Don, was tired.”)  Using a comma when a reader should breathe is useful advice for a fourth grader, perhaps, but terribly inaccurate and misleading for an older writer who is capable of a greater understanding and more consistent usage (assuming said writer does not suffer from dyslexia or any other number of issues that make writing more difficult than usual).  Continuing to follow such a flawed concept into adulthood strikes me as naive and presumptuous--an insistence on one’s own, untutored preference over what would be most convenient and efficient for the reader. 

One must understand that comma correctness is primarily necessary to prose.  Poetry is a different matter--in part because ambiguity is an artistic technique and writers may want the reader to dwell upon and reread the lines in various ways to find some profound meaning for themselves. Grammatical ambiguity in fiction, however, should serve only as a means for humor or as a plot complication between characters, never as a possible stumbling block for readers.  One might also make an exception for an intentional digression, though I can think of no suitable examples.  Furthermore, should an author wish to break a rule to achieve a literary effect, sense dictates that said author should first understand the rules and the possible consequences of breaking them.  The rest of the prose needs to state ideas clearly.  Using commas correctly will by no means diminish the author’s ability to write creatively or vividly and will likely enhance the piece by allowing the text to flow unnoticed below the action occurring in the reader's imagination.

I'll leave the particulars of various comma rules for another time.

On Essays and Expectations

        As a Writing Paraprofessional at a community college, I maintain our tutors' supply of handouts on all manner of grammatical and stylistic topics, often improving old handouts or writing new ones as needed.  Some time ago, I wrote the following handout, which answers the question I hear most from students: "What does my teacher expect from my essay?"  I'm rather proud of how well it explains universal college-level expectations for essays while also making a case for the existence and assignment of such essays.

What Professors Expect from Student Essays

Or How to Write A-level Essays

Professors expect you to follow the assignment directions.

                Anywhere you go or work, you will find certain expectations, and whether fair or not, you must learn and meet them to succeed.  Following an assignment shows, first, that you’re able to read and follow directions—a basic skill you need in any job.  Second, it respects the teacher and implies you care about your academic success—you’re not arrogantly blowing off the directions because you think they’re unimportant.  Also, some directions (such as using MLA or APA format to cite your sources) will keep you from plagiarizing, which can earn you a failing grade or expulsion.  Therefore, take special note of instructors’ directions about writing a given length, covering certain topics, following a specific format, avoiding certain words, etc..

Professors expect you to write in a logical, organized manner.

                Follow Western essay organization.  Start with an imaginative introduction, which may give background facts but won’t yet develop the supporting points.  End the intro with a clear, specific thesis (position statement) that you’ll support throughout the essay.  Start body paragraphs with a topic sentence, and order supporting points and examples sensibly.  Use parallel structure and transitions to help readers follow your train of thought.  Explain or support debatable statements, and avoid logical fallacies (bad reasoning).  Conclude by summarizing the supporting points and thesis—in new wording—and closing with a thought-provoking final statement or question.  (If you don’t know a term, look it up and practice writing it.)

Professors expect you to demonstrate deep thinking.

Professors assign essays in college because they’re the best way to evaluate how deeply you’re thinking about what you’ve learned; instructors will see immediately if you’ve only learned ideas on a low level like mere memorization and regurgitation.  Instead, they expect you to evaluate ideas, synthesize them with old ideas, apply them to your life or theoretical situations, and moreover, communicate your understanding of the ideas clearly and uniquely.

Professors expect you to use relevant details.

All statements, details, explanations, and examples must support the thesis well and be complete and clear.  Delete “bunny trails”—details or statements unrelated to the thesis.   If you feel a bunny trail relates, but the relation isn’t clear, clarify how it supports the thesis.  Don’t leave readers with any questions about your meaning, and remember that grammar and word choice may affect the clarity of your ideas.  If you don’t know how to make an awkward sentence clearer, try completely rewriting it or splitting it into separate sentences.   

Professors expect you to use appropriate word choices.

                Instructors assume you have a sizeable vocabulary by the time you reach college, and they expect you’ll use words that are correct, specific, vivid, concise, and varied.   Only use informal words like “well, you see,” “uh,” “yeah, so,” etc. when quoting someone directly.  Beware awkward wording, incorrect word choices, too many weak verbs (is, are, was, were, am, be, being), vague words (such as “thing” and “stuff”), unclear pronoun references, unnecessary repetition, and wordy phrasing that you could reduce with more precise wording.  Avoid condescending to your reader’s intelligence with simplistic words and transitions that go without saying.  Also beware of misspelling words with their homophone or another similar word, such as writing “defiantly” for “definitely” or “they’re” for “their.”  Finally, many instructors also prefer you avoid potentially offensive language, whether derogatory terms, obscenities, or profanities; you can narrate “He swore” or “She called him names that would have shocked her mother” instead of offending readers with the words themselves.

Professors expect you to use correct grammar.

Writing correctly makes you look more knowledgeable, dependable, and professional, and it helps your audience read and understand your work more easily.  Also, whether it’s correct or not, people equate poor grammar with poor intelligence, so readers will likely treat an ungrammatical essay (or resume or article) with disrespect rather than thoughtful consideration, even if the content makes good points.  Therefore, learn as much about the rules of grammar as you can, and practice them so you can write with more confidence.   If you have a learning disability that makes using good grammar difficult, ask for help from your teachers, counselors, friends, or family after doing as much as you can on your own.

Professors expect you to revise and proofread multiple times.

                Unless you’re a stupendous writer or your instructor is remarkably lenient, a paper written the night before it’s due and that has not undergone any revision or proofreading will likely earn a poor grade.  Most writers have to proofread more than once to catch the majority of their errors.  Refusing to revise is 1) arrogant, for even well-loved, published writers revise and need an editor’s help, 2) disrespectful, for it implies the teacher and class are not worth the effort, and 3) unwise, for it makes you look less capable than you really are and can earn you a lower grade than you’re capable of earning.  Revise and proofread till you’re pleased with the result.

On Ogden Nash

I have discovered Ogden Nash,

For I chanced upon a stash

Of his marvelous work all tucked away

That apparently my teachers did mislay--

Instead encouraging Fitzgerald and Shakespeare

And other such authors through each long year.

But Nash is ever more amusing

And I’d rather be perusing

All his poetry

on celery,

on Columbus and the common cold,

Than reading lofty lines on Troilus and Cressida, of old,

Or of Gatsby and Daisy, or Jake and Lady Brett Ashley

Who act so appallingly rashly

And aren’t delightful a whit.

(Though that’s not the only reason to read, I admit.)

I’ll rectify this deprivation

And start a long examination

Of his works with great elation

And then sit back in sated contemplation.

                       ~Leanna Coon

Nash's work, of which I've heard the odd quote over the years but never really read, is indeed a recent "discovery."  His style rather puts me in mind of a Shel Silverstein for adults.  I tried to follow his style a bit in the poem above with the varying line lengths and rhyming and all that.  In case you’re interested, his work is available for anyone's perusal at http://www.poemhunter.com/ogden-nash/poems/.

On Life and Toilet Paper

        With my birthday so recently come and gone, I feel reflective on our human perceptions of time, life, and age.  However, the cartoonist Brian Crane (doubtless quoting others) has already written such thought-provoking and humorous strips on the subject, I decided to share a couple of them in lieu of my own thoughts and to let you interpret them on your own.  Please enjoy (and I do hope this doesn't count as copyright infringement . . . ).