Monday, January 26

As I think about the Artificial Intelligence (AI) problem, I am convinced of two things: First that relatively few of you sat down in your senior year of high school and said “I think I will just cheat my way through college,” and second that AI is a desperation move for many students. Nobody taught them how to write (perhaps because nobody in their high school knew either), and now in college they need to actually produce something to pass their courses, keep their scholarship, and stay on the team. I put this semester together with the idea that if we start back at the very beginning and work on the root problem—how to actually write things—that will be the best way to help you.

The “Poison Fish” reading (From Ken Macrorie’s Telling Writing) came across my desk a dozen years ago, and it was a breath of fresh air. So many of my students struggled with writing in a natural voice—often they did sort of an imitation of legal language (“hereinunder” and “heretofore”) or piled up unusual words they dug up from dictionaries (“plethoric”). Macrorie’s discussion of Engfish rang a bell. Later I was able to get a copy of the original textbook (which has been out of print for 46 years) and that is the backbone of the remainder of this course.

By the way, if you have trouble figuring out what the third-grade child said, try reading it out loud. The kid is actually a lot of fun. And one mark of a decent piece of writing, according to Jack Rawlins (The Writer’s Way) is that it works well when it is read aloud.

This whole business of voice is a key idea in my course. Another key idea (which also comes up in the “Poison Fish” chapter) is concretion—specific, memorable stuff. It’s totally forgettable to say, “That is a great car,” but the picture of the cherry red Chevy gives you something to remember. Every car has a color, whether it’s an old piece of junk or a brand-new muscle car. Even if you don’t like or understand cars, your mind can grab “cherry red” much better than “colorless blob.”

Bonus idea: Every Freshman struggles with the question how to fill a four-page assignment. “It is a great car” is only five words, all of them very forgettable. “It’s a dark cherry 1964 Chevrolet Impala SS four-speed, perfectly restored, with a 409 engine and Thrush Glasspack mufflers.” Is nineteen words, and even if you don’t like cars, you can hold that in your mind.

The “Grandpa” piece came from a textbook, but it was written by a student. Grandpa was sort of a teacher too. (Think of the comment he made about the tree.) By the time you are done reading, you have a very clear picture of his physical shape, but (more important) also of his mind. “Strong giant” is not just a description of his body.