About us, about this project

We’re upper-division English majors at Tennessee Tech University in a spring 2017 capstone course--"Senior Colloquium: Why We Write" (ENGL 4995). This project is designed to help students deeply consider how writing and writers work by engaging in a conversation with one of our textbooks, Mark Edmundson's Why Write?, which proposes more than two dozen reasons why literate humans write, each in a different chapter. For this project, each student summarized one chapter from Edmundson's book and wrote a new version, perhaps expanding the original author's ideas, perhaps providing additional examples or claims, perhaps providing counterarguments, perhaps integrating the student's own experiences. These chapter-rewrites provide an opportunity for students to step into Edmundson's text, to propose new perspectives or new examples to the chapter, try it on, take it for a spin, to own a new version of the selected chapter. 

Each student's "chapter" is published as a single blog entry, and its title reflects Edmundson's original chapter title. To navigate the site, select a title in the Blog Archive (right column). We invite you to read, enjoy, and offer comments. By the way, purchasing your own copy of Edmunson's text is highly recommended!

Thanks for reading!

To Drink

An Expansion

To Sum It Up

In this chapter Edmundson begins by pointing out that many writers do, indeed, drink. They also do other drugs which he does not specify. The main focus of the chapter is explaining why exactly writers choose to drink. To do this Edmundson explains that anxiety is a part of human nature that must be accepted. It creates tension in the mind as exercise does to the muscles. Writers' tension comes in the form of worry. Worry that the story is sub par, worry that bills will not be paid, etc.... They turn to alcohol to release this and allow creativity to flow more freely. It also creates a level of "self acceptance" which relieves some of the anxiety writers feel. These effects can be helpful, but only if the writer does not not overdo it. Edmundson warns that exceeding the second glass of whatever one may be drinking can turn into something more negative. It can turn into a hangover or even ruin a marriage depending on the situation. A simple hangover is not all bad though. He points out that the excruciating focus caused by a hangover can be harnessed and used in the editing process. If one is hungover and feeling overly critical, he/she may edit a piece more effectively. Another interesting concept that Edmundson discusses in this chapter is the divided nature of man presented in different forms by Plato and Freud. He presents this divide as a source of natural tension because we are constantly working to fulfill the wants of each of our separate selves. To close the chapter, Edmundson discusses the fact that life is naturally dualistic. Underneath every positive lurks a negative underbelly. To write, one must be prepared for both.

To Drink to Excess

In his chapter Edmundson warns “The poet George Herbert tells us to avoid the third glass and there’s almost certainly something in what he says. It’s hard to avoid the third glass, though, especially when you use  alcohol the way I think many writers do” (Edmundson 103). Here, as he does throughout the book, Edmundson places himself in a position of superiority above the rest of the poor impulsive peasants reaching for that third glass. Some of these peasants include writers like Stephen King, Charles Bukowski, and F. Scott Fitzgerald. In an interview with The Rolling Stone, Stephen King says “I was drinking, like, a case of beer a night. And I thought, ‘I'm an alcoholic.’ That was probably about '78, '79. I thought, ‘I've gotta be really careful, because if somebody says, ‘You're drinking too much, you have to quit,' I won't be able to’ (Greene para 36). While alcohol does cause a great deal of problems, for some writers, going beyond that second glass is simply a part of the creative process. This was true for King at one time:

Stephen King knew he was an addict in 1975, when he was writing The Shining. It manifested in his writing, as part of what he was doing; hidden from everybody else, it was in him, and on the page. Back then, it was only alcohol. As he became more popular, wrote more, earned more, took more time away from his family to work, his addictions escalated. How could they not? He needed to hit deadlines, and he liked the taste of what he was addicted to (Smythe para. 1).

Nearly all of the reasons for drinking which Edmundson discusses in his chapter are; however, external factors play a role as motivators as well. As we see in this quote on Stephen King pulled from an article by James Smyth, sometimes it is not the drinking that drives the writing, but the writing that drives the drinking as a result of deadlines and expectations among other things.

To Drink as a Woman

In his chapter, Edmundson mentions several male authors who are known for using alcohol as a elixir of creativity, but he fails to mention a single female writer. In reality, a place Edmundson has only heard rumors about, Women drink too. Two notable female writers known for their relationships with alcohol are Marguerite Duras and Elizabeth Bishop. In an article by Olivia Liang, Duras is quoted from an interview with the New York Times on her relationship with alcohol saying  "’I drank because I was an alcoholic,’  ‘I was a real one – like a writer. I'm a real writer, I was a real alcoholic…’” (Liang para. 3).  Stories like hers are rarely talked about because they challenge the socially accepted idea of what it means to be a women even now. Acknowledging that women are human would be a blemish on their socially constructed image of delicate femininity. Elizabeth Bishop also maintained a close relationship with alcohol:  

A lesbian in a period in which homosexuality was not sanctioned or accepted, Bishop found her greatest freedom in Brazil, where she lived with her female partner, the architect Lota de Macedo Soares. She spent her most peaceful and productive years there, though even they were interleaved with drunkenness… (Liang para. 11).

Bishop used  alcohol as a mechanism to cope in a world of closed mindedness and shame. In his chapter, Edmundson discusses various reasons writers turn to drinking, but it is important to remember that men are not the only ones who experience internal turmoil. Women also have minds, and often face the same internal battles that drive men to drink, and it is not always pretty. Elizabeth Bishop in particular “...more than once drank eau de cologne, having exhausted the possibilities of the liquor cabinet” (Liang para. 1).

To Do Hard Drugs

While drug use is mentioned in this chapter, Edmundson seems to skim right over it when, in reality, drug use is alive and well within the writing world. According to an interview with The Rolling Stone conducted by Andy Greene the previously mentioned contemporary writer, Stephen King was addicted to cocaine during a portion of his writing career which is a few steps beyond Edmundson’s measly two glasses of red wine. When mentioning drugs, one cannot forget Hunter S. Thompson. Though there seem to be very few reliable sources documenting his drug use, it is common knowledge that he was quite the connoisseur of substances. A writer more closely associated with alcohol, but also an avid user of drugs was Jack Kerouac who according to legend wrote his entire novel On the Road in a single benzedrine-fueled haze.

To Conclude

Whether we like to admit it or not, the bottom line is, there seems to be some connection between writing and drug use. Whether or not that connection is positive is difficult to determine. For writers like Stephen King and Marguerite Duras, alcoholism was a very destructive part of their lives. For others, like Hunter S. Thompson, they served as an essential part of the creative process as Thompson points out saying “‘I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they've always worked for me’” (Hooten para. 4). While it may be best to avoid that third glass, many great works of art have emerged from excess. Perhaps the greatest art stems directly from the human soul, and those who experience a pain strong enough to drive them to drugs, alcohol, and self destruction tap into a deeper vein of creativity by letting go completely, allowing their lives to spiral out of control. Like Hunter S. Thompson, I do not wish to advocate for drug or alcohol use, but it does seem to work for some people.

Works Cited

• Greene, Andy. "Stephen King: The Rolling Stone Interview." The Rolling Stone. N.p., 31 Oct. 2014. Web. 1 May 2017.
• Hooten, Christopher. "Hunter S. Thompson’s daily routine was the height of dissolution." Independent. N.p., 6 Jan. 2016. Web. 1 May 2017.
• Liang, Olivia. "'Every hour a glass of wine' -the female writers who drank." The Guardian. N.p., 13 June 2014. Web. 1 May 2017.

To Stop Revising

            Revision is a process that scholars tend to worship as if it is a form of religion. Teachers and fellow students alike use their numbers of drafts written as a trophy to show how much dedication and skill went in to a product. The more drafts, the better the text must be, of course. Many say that you can never truly draft until you’re finished and satisfied with a product, because there is always more revision that can be made. At some point, someone must come take it away from you, and that is why you have to stop revising. Revising, however, can also be something that hinders our writing. There is nothing less personable than an over-revised and style-less text. A text where the author has completely edited out their personal voice out so much that it could be the user manual for a leaf blower. So where is the fine line between revision preferences to produce the best possible piece, that still has a personal touch? Revision is of course a necessary part of writing, or at least, successful writing, but it can also by dangerous for stylistic writing.

            Revising is almost an occult religion in the world of academia. Jeff Hirsch, aspiring author and creator of a self-titled blog and website, says he likes to refer to revision like the triage area of the emergency room. A voluminous number of torn up corpses are coming in, all seem high priority but you can only work on one at a time, the corpse is bleeding from all orifices and must be patched together enough to sustain life before sending it to the real surgeon, of the final draft. He recommends attacking revision in the following ways:

1. Don’t be afraid to ask people what they liked. We can be so afraid of criticism that we ask people not to tear it apart when it could really help us.
2. Ask one question (his favorite is “If you could give me only one single note, what would it be?”).
3. Run away! Take some space away from your text while mulling over the feedback.
4. To hell with Faulkner. Don’t start cutting phrases out willy nilly because an author told you a quote about “killing our darlings”.
5. You’re not a writer, you’re a sculptor. He uses Michaelangelo’s quote “In every block or marble I see a statue as plain as though it stood before me… I have only to hew away the rough walls that imprison the lovely apparition to reveal it…”.

Here’s a fun note, I found a typo in Hirsch’s blog, so even though he is an exuberant revisionist, it appears he could’ve used one more draft for this one.

            Edward Fitzgerald is a poet who comes to mind when it comes to the topic of extreme revisionism. He only had one truly famous poem, Rubaiyat, and spent the rest of his life revising it. Even more interesting, the very first version seems to be the most popular of all. Another notable member of the church of revisionism is William Wordsworth. His Prelude was first written in 1805 and he continued to revise and revise without even attempting to publish it. Wordsworth would’ve surely continued to revise if it wasn’t for his death, forty-five years after his first draft his Prelude was published post-mortem. However, unlike Fitzgerald, the revised versions of the Prelude are generally considered to be better works, so at least Wordsworth was accomplishing something with his revision.

            Many believe that revision is just fixing commas and spelling, a common misconception. This is actually the process of proofreading. Those who revise are more so looking for ideas that are too predictable, a weak thesis, and messy organization. Simply proofreading errors like this will not be overall beneficial, because you’re only hiding the bigger fault. Much like putting a slipcover on your grandma’s sagging old couch that her dog definitely gave birth on. You can hide the stains, but you’ll never get rid of that smell. The next half step from proof reading is editing. You look for better words than some of the weak ones used, avoid repetition, and so on, all of this is important to achieve effective writing, but if your ideas are poor then phrasing them in a different manner isn’t going to help much.

            With all of this, it’d be easy to assume that some of history’s greatest writers must’ve also been history’s greatest revisers, but that simply isn’t the case. According to the Boston Globe, revision is seen to be a more modern tactic for writing. They state that most texts over 100 years old only went through small editing. Hannah Sullivan, English professor at Oxford University and author of the book The Work of Revision, argues that revision as we as scholars and academics have come to know it is a 20^th century creation. Modernists like Ezra Pound, T.S. Eliot, and Virginia Woolf were some of the big writers that started to worship the act of revising, causing the popularity of the task to grow as they rose with success. Sullivan states that these authors “revised overtly, passionately, and at many points in the lifespan of their texts”. Sullivan urges that these authors were so obsessed with revising because the whole point of modernism was to challenge people with something entirely new and breaking tradition.

            Another historical element that enhanced the surge of revision is claimed to be the invention and rise in popularity of the typewriter. The Work of Revision makes a case that what we write often comes from how we write. Using the traditional pen and paper may leave you more connected to your paper with a passionate sense of camaraderie between you and what you have written, making you less likely to want to change it.  With the invention of the typewriter, using a machine to write could make you feel like connected to what you are writing, thereby giving you the feeling that it isn’t good enough or worthwhile. This could be a cause of modernists extreme revision policies, making many many drafts in an effort to gain connectedness to their works and spend the same amount of quality time with a piece as you would have done while handwriting it.

            During the 19^th century, Romantics popularized the idea of revision hurting you text. They showed resisting the urge to revise as an extremely moral and virtuous thing to do. They had the impression that the bet writing flowed spontaneously from the heart and shouldn’t be contained or edited. Your most true, raw, self was presented in your first draft, and that is what you wanted the world to see of yourself. Lord Byron once wrote in a letter “I am like the tiger, if I miss my first spring- I go growling back to my Jungle. There is no second. I can’t correct”. I think this quote is incredible for what I feel like my writing and revising style is. The first text you apply to a page is most accurate to one’s true self. Revising, in a sense, is almost like cheating. In a statewide-standardized test there is no second draft. You are handed four pieces of paper and are simply told to write. There is no “Teacher, I used all my paper, can I have more for my second draft?”.  You get one shot, and whatever you put on those four sheets of paper is exactly what you deserve.

            Sullivan foresees another anti-revision revolution in the works. With most people, writing occurs via a computer screen, only printing the final copy. This goes completely against the ideal set up for deep revision, which requires making many copies of a single text to see how it has evolved throughout each new draft. Never having a physical copy until completion will, according to Sullivan, may “paradoxically make wholesale revision, the kind that leads to radically rethinking our work, more difficult”.

            I, for one, will champion this newer anti-revision movement. Although self-editing and maybe even slight proofreading are important and even integral to texts, deep revision is very dangerous. Revision is a wasteful process, cutting out ideas and plot lines that could be the exact ones to affect your reader most. As the author, you truly have no idea what will be the kicker that each member of the audience connects with, so if you truly want to write with the purpose of bettering the lives of others, then you are only doing a deep dis-service to yourself and your writing by cutting your own, well deserved ideas.

            So if you are with me in this revision revolution, throw your final drafts in the garbage can. There is certainly something so freeing about doing a singular draft and trusting that your original ideas are enough. More times written does not equal a more significance text. Trust that you as a writer have enough value to not pick yourself, and your work, which is an extension of your soul, apart. Second-guessing through extreme revision is the destructor of the creative voice.

Works Cited

Browne, Gerald D. “Edward Fitzgerald’s Revisions.” Biographical Society of America, New York, pp. 69-94.

Fehrman, Craig. “Revising your writing again? Blame the Modernists.” The Boston Globe, Boston Globe Media Partners, LLC, 30 June 2013, https://www.bostonglobe.com/ideas/2013/06/29/revising-your-writing-again-blame-modernists/WhoH6Ih2kat2RE9DZV3DjP/story.html.

Hirsch, Jeff.  “5 Thoughts on Revision.” Jeff Hirsch, Cloudspace,  2 Feb. 2011, https://www.jeff-hirsch.com/blog/5-thoughts-on-revision.

Leader, Zachary. “Wordsworth, Revision, and Personal Identity.” ELH, Vol. 60, No. 3, Autumn 1993, pp. 651-683.

Sullivan, Hannah. The Work of Revision, Harvard University Press, 1^st June 2013.

To Have The Last Word

The Beginning of the End

"All good things must come to and end" so they say… (252). Edmundson states in his chapter “To Have The Last Word” writers want their final words to be nothing less than perfection. They want them to be something remembered for eternity, something to be quoted for years to come. Famous authors such as Oscar Wilde, Thoreau, Emerson, and James Joyce are immediately brought in to his discussion with some of their very own last words as writers. Towards the end of the chapter Edmundson takes a turn in direction by explaining how their initial “last words” are not actually the end of the writer because the words evolve and spark ideas in other writers, therefore stimulating an ongoing cycle.

Every person can think of concluding words that have impacted their life in some way, shape, or form. Whether it is the satisfying ending of a phenomenal book or movie, the last words of a loved one, or the final words of somebody that were never even able to be spoken. Words have the power to influence anyone at any given time. There is no limit to them. They can gratify completely, or disappoint entirely. Words have power. “They contain the ability to influence, to entertain, and to inform. Words encompass emotions. They can heal and they can hurt. They bring inspiration and thought. Words do not come straight from the mouth. They come from the mind. We speak them. We hear them. We read them. We write them. We live and breathe them. At some point in every person’s life, words have made a difference” (Brazzle 1). Words are used for closure in any instance. They also introduce beginnings. But what makes the biggest impression? What is the most important part?

           

            “…And they lived happily ever after. The End” is a typical well-known phrase used to end many stories, usually fairy tales. When seeing or hearing these words it is automatically known that a fictional fairytale story has just taken place. This phrase can also be seen or heard at the end of movies. The words “Amen” are of similar sort. These words trigger the end of a prayer. At this point everyone in a church would automatically know the prayer is over and they can lift their head and open their eyes. These are each triggered last words or phrases. When they are spoken the audience automatically knows it is going to be the last word. However, there are other last words that do not necessarily end moments or scenarios but more so foreshadow a future. An epilogue is “a section or speech at the end of a book or play that serves as a comment on or conclusion to what has happened” (OED. 1). One example of a famous epilogue is at the end of the Harry Potter book series written by J.K. Rowling. The epilogue takes place 19 years after the Battle of Hogwarts and Voldemort’s defeat. Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrive at Platform 9 ¾ with their families to drop their kids off at the Hogwarts Express. The year would be 2017. But what is the point in writing an epilogue, rather than just continuing the story with more books? “Without a proper purpose for including one, an epilogue might come across as anti-climatic deadweight, inadvertently signaling to your reader that you’re afraid your ending is so weak that it won’t be able extrapolate meaning from it without help” (Carpenter 1). Well, I guess J.K. Rowling was already 7 novels deep and probably ready to be finished with her story. However, when asked about the epilogue of the book after many complaints about how the story ends she explains that she was vague on purpose, “it was her desire for it to be "nebulous," something "poetic," and that she wanted the readers to feel as if they were looking at Platform 9 3/4 through the mist, unable to make out exactly who was there and who was not” (Harry Potter np). Rowling explained that her epilogue was originally a lot more detailed but “it didn’t work out well as a piece of writing. In a novel you must resist the urge to tell everything” (Harry Potter np). Through J.K. Rowling is it learned that having the last words as a writer through epilogues can be a mind stimulating game for the writer to the audience.

             

“Dying words are a very special form of quotation. Some are rehearsed and contrived; others are spontaneous and witty. Whatever the motivation or preparedness, 'famous last words' may be in the form of epitaphs, letters or even suicide notes, but are often impromptu sayings coined by and spoken by the dying person for the first (and, of course, last) time on their deathbed”(Famous Literary and Historical Epitaphs np). Epitaphs on cemetery monuments are communal in honoring loved ones who have passed away. The words on epitaphs are oftentimes not written by those whom they are honoring, but by a family member, famous person, or author. They tend to be words that reflect on the deceased persons life, maybe words they would have said had they been able to actually have last words. It could also be a message from the family to those who are still living reminding them to cherish their own life or let others know how much this late individual is loved. There are the distinctive phrases written on tombstones such as “Rest in Peace” “Gone but not forgotten” and “In remembrance of.” If you take a walk around any cemetery you will probably come across these phrases. Though others will include more personal life reflecting messages. William Shakespeare’s epitaph on his gravestone at Holy Trinity Church reads: “GOOD FREND FOR IESVS SAKE FORBEARE, TO DIGG THE DVST ENCLOASED HEARE, BLESTE BE Ye MAN Yt SPARES THES STONES, AND CVRST BE HE Yt MOVES MY BONES," many believe the inscription was penned by Shakespeare himself (Famous Literary and Historical Epitaphs np). Dr. Martin Luther King Juniors’ epitaph vividly reflects on the impact he made on the world with the words “Free at Last, Free at Last Thank God Almighty I'm Free at Last” (Famous Literary and Historical Epitaphs np). Some epitaphs can even be rather humorous. Dorothy Parkers stone says nothing more than the words “Excuse my dust” (Famous Literary and Historical Epitaphs np). She is also said to have chosen this herself as a reflection of her witty yet serious personality. Epitaphs are a way that writers or any person is able to end with last words that reflect on their life and who they are.

           

            Right now go ahead and think about your first interactions with the people in your life. Do these first impressions still shape your perception of these people today? Many of them probably do, because your first and last impression of a person really influences how you view and think about that particular individual. The same is also true for writing. “Your introduction and conclusion are your tools for capturing the audience's attention and leaving them with a lasting impression” (Jackson np). Introductions and conclusions are the two most difficult parts of inscription for writers. Yet, they are the most crucial. Starting a young age everyone is taught the standard five paragraph essay format. We are taught that there must be an introduction, at least three body paragraphs explaining our points, and then a conclusion. The introduction must grab the reader’s attention. The body must keep their attention, and the conclusion should wrap everything up and leave the audience with a sense of satisfaction. These are the rules for almost any piece of writing (plus or minus the length of the body of course). Essays, articles, novels, short stories, and journals generally all have some form of similar structure. But what is the most important to the reader? The beginning or the end?  

Writers have the power to start and end however they desire. From the beginning their words matter just as much as the end. Introductions and first words grab the attention of people and keep them longing for more. For example, the first book in a series is going to be the reason you continue on to the next one and finish the series. In an essay, the writer is responsible for having a killer introduction that hooks the audience right off the bat and makes them want to read the rest. Conclusions are a little bit different but are equally as important when it comes to satisfaction of the reader. Finishing the last paragraph of a book and giving the reader a sense of gratification is very well reflected on the writer. Last words can come in many different forms and tend to be the most important to a writer because it is the way they are remembered. Ultimately, “What is a book but a record of the spirit over a period of time in the writer’s life” (Edmundson 256)? Write to make a difference. Write to be remembered. Write to give a new perspective.

Work Cited

Carpenter, Courtney. “Writing Fiction: Six Ways to Use an Epilogue.” WritersDigest.com, 24 Aug. 2012, www.writersdigest.com/tip-of-the-day/six-reasons-for-using-an-epilogue. Accessed 25 Apr. 2017.

EDMUNDSON, MARK. WHY WRITE?: a Master Class on the Art of Writing and Why It Matters. S.l., BLOOMSBURY, 2017.

“Epilogue” Def. 1. Oxford English Dictionary Online. Web. 1 April 2017.

Famous Literary and Historical Epitaphs. web.cn.edu/kwheeler/epitaphs.html. Accessed 25 Apr. 2017.

“Harry Potter - J.K. Rowling Goes Beyond the Epilogue.” Beyond Hogwarts, www.beyondhogwarts.com/harry-potter/articles/jk-rowling-goes-beyond-the-epilogue.html. Accessed 25 Apr. 2017.

Jackson, Cathryn. “The Importance of Introductions and Conclusions.” Study.com, Study.com, study.com/academy/lesson/introductions-and-conclusions.html. Accessed 25 Apr. 2017.

To See What Happens Next

Mark Edmundson starts off his chapter “To See What Happens Next” from Why Write? by saying that authentic writers desire to surprise their readers, and writing while using dictated outlines cannot please readers like authentic writing filled with surprises for both writer and reader can. Edmundson also asserts that some of the best writing comes from the creative unconscious, the sleeping part of the minds that hides subliminal information from the conscious mind. When the literary beast that dwells in the obscure depths of the mind escapes through a writer’s medium, the resulting writing can either be achingly dull or inspiring genius. The unconscious mind is like Russian roulette, and entertaining the unknown produces chance fortune and failure. Edmundson uses the literary greats of John Milton and Theodore Roethke as examples of writers who summoned an unknown genius from within and molded that genius into spontaneous brilliance on paper with words. Sigmund Freud’s assertions on dreams, repressed desires, and the unconscious may explain the unexplained sparks of imagination that leak through in writers’ works. Sometimes the carrier between the unconscious and the conscious brain becomes more permeable than usual, and who knows what forbidden ideas may slip through to the delight or horror of a writer’s audience. To outline or not to outline, that is the question. Edmundson makes his stance on people who prefer outlines to writing with wild abandon when he says, “They are like dictators for a state yet to come into being” (171). He goes on to assert that a genuine writer “wants to surprise her readers” and “wants to surprise herself” (171). To declare that all writers who decide to create outlines before writing are not as authentic as writers who allow their writing to develop and take form as they write is a broad and ignorant generalization. Just because a writer decides beforehand what path they desire their writing to follow does not make them any less genuine or great as a writer who freely lets their writing forge a path through the wilderness of a blank screen or sheet of paper without pre-planned guidance. When talking to an audience of fellow English majors, who spend plenty of hours typing and writing their own thoughts on a daily basis, I encountered a split in opinion on whether it is best to outline or to write without set goals. For some of the English majors, they preferred to write with fixed outlines to guide their writing in an organized manner. They dread not having an outline before starting a writing project, for fear of going off the road and into uncharted territory that may hinder the outcome they desired to produce with their writing. On the opposite side of the matter, other English majors said that outlines can cause writers’ block and can be too constrictive to the writing process. I see both sides of the argument over outlining. I personally think that a writer can be a great one if they outline or if they choose not to. Why not have sprinklings of both methods in writing processes? While Edmundson chooses to believe that outline driven authors produce unauthentic writing, Joseph Heller, the American military veteran and author of the satirical novel Catch-22 proves that writing with some sort of an outline can produce inspiring and authentic writing that lasts for generations. The plot of Catch-22 leaps through time and space and is difficult to attach a timeline to. One of the only ways to keep up with the skewered timeline of Catch-22 is to keep up with the escalating number of missions that the bombardier Yossarian and his comrades have to accomplish before they can go home. The convoluted structure of Catch-22 has a method to its seeming madness. Joseph Heller utilized an outline when he was writing Catch-22, and the evolution of his characters flourish throughout the squares that he allotted them in his handwritten outline. Erasure marks and faded penciled in words dominate the grid Heller created for Catch-22. Johnathan Eller wrote in his article “Catching a Market: The Publishing History of Catch-22” that Joseph Heller, “In 1953, he began a series of notecards outlining characters and a military scenario for what would become Catch-22” (462). I like to think that Heller wrote with a mix of rough outlining and brilliant spontaneity – that he crafted Catch-22 with set goals in mind to guide it on its way but simultaneously did not know what was going to happen next. The end result of his creative process is an intricate piece of unique storytelling that surprises its audience at every twist and turn with hilarious absurdity and creative genius. I believe Heller solidified his place as a great American writer by employing a blended methodology of outlining and by letting his writing wander off the beaten path straight into satiric brilliance.

            Edmundson also discusses the might of the creative unconscious and its influence on writers and their work. He states, “There is, we think during our good runs, something like a creative unconscious” (171). The unconscious sits back and secretly collects intelligence while we live, and it hums along day-by-day waiting to be of use in one of our life endeavors. In their article “The Unconscious Mind” John A. Bargh and Ezequiel Morsella state that “the conscious mind is not the source or origin of our behavior” and “that impulses to act are unconsciously activated and that the role of consciousness is as gatekeeper and sense maker after the fact” (77). If the unconscious is what drives each and every one of our actions on a daily basis, it may make what Joseph Heller claims about his inspiration to write Catch-22 make more sense. In “Reeling in Catch-22” Heller said of Catch-22 that, “The concept of the novel came to me as a seizure, a single inspiration” and “I don’t know where it came from. I know that it was a conscious assembling of factors, but the unconscious element was very strong, too” (50). Not only does Heller acknowledge that the unconscious assisted his development of Catch-22, he says he spontaneously received the inspiration for his novel from the unknown. The unconscious mind helped Joseph Heller and his writing, and it can help all writers if they wait long enough for the unconscious to lead their writing.

When I first started reading Catch-22, I had no idea how much I would enjoy Heller’s writing style. His absurd twists in logic, dark humor, and exposing of the corruption of the upper echelon and lower ranking men as well, surprised me at every flip of a page. I did not know where Heller was taking me on the ride that is Catch-22, and the novel consistently entertained me at every chapter. Heller stitched together a novel with incredible depth of meaning while simultaneously creating situations designed to elicit a laugh out of his audience. But you have to work to keep with Catch-22 and remember the quirks of all of the characters. Heller succeeded in placing his novel in the canon of great American novels by using a written outline to keep track of the dozens of characters in Catch-22 and by utilizing pearls of eloquence originating from his unconscious.

In my own experience as a writer, outlines usually do not work out for me. I prefer to let my writing evolve and wander as I write on a project or story, and then I will go back and rein in my words if they travel too far into the wilderness of uncertain meaning. My unconscious likes to stay silent, and it only helped me one time that I can honestly remember. My senior year of high school, I took a dual credit English class where I received credit for my senior year English credit and Composition I and II. I had to write a narrative description paper about my hometown, and I remember being so nervous about writing it. The blank desktop computer screen stared back at me in defiance. Whatever pathway my writing needed to take to make a good paper remained obscure. I sat at the computer for a long while up into the night. Of course the paper was due by second block the next morning to Mr. Mulcahy. I suddenly felt the desire to write what was true and mattered to me. The words and stories started to ebb from my mind, or maybe it was the unconscious helping me out. I wrote straight from my soul for that paper. In depth descriptions about the nuanced people in my community, the swimming hole where my cousins and I frequented every summer, the skittish guineas and cows at my grandparents’ home, and the deep wood where my dad took me for walks and taught me the difference between a white oak and a hickory tree all leapt onto the computer screen in a flurry of typing. I had no idea where it all came from, the inspiration struck me in an instant. When I had my conference with Mr. Mulcahy about the paper, he was dazzled by it. He insisted that I needed to pursue a career in writing and be an English major in college. I was shocked, and I did not see that coming. In that instant, my future plans shifted from pursuing a Dental Hygienist licensure after high school to deciding to be an English major to see where it would take me. Things happen in an instant, a rearranging in the universe comes in a flash. But the divine guidance I received the night I wrote that paper for Mr. Mulcahy changed my life forever. And I cannot wait to see what happens next.

Works Cited

Bargh, John A. and Ezequiel Morsella, “The Unconscious Mind.” Perspectives on Psychological Science, vol. 3, no. 1, 2008, p. 77.

Edmundson, Mark. Why Write? Bloomsbury, 2016.

Eller, Jonathan R. “Catching a Market: The Publishing History of Catch-22.” Prospects, vol. 17, 1992, p. 462.

Heller, Joseph. “Reeling in Catch-22.” The Sixties, edited by Lynda Rosen Obst, Random House/Rolling Stone Press, p. 50.

Appendix

Catch-22

           

Figure 1.  Joseph Heller’s handwritten outline/timeline/character map for Catch-22. Taken from the back of the 50^th Anniversary Edition of Catch-22