Skeletons, Ghosts, and Shadows

If you wish to be a writer, write.
                                        -- Epictetus


On Saturday, I went to a workshop on writing children's picture books. The teacher was Barbara Bottner, truly the rock star diva of pictures and truly a gifted teacher.


Even if one had no writing aspirations lurking in one's bosom (in which case one would be rare indeed), one would have benefited from her teaching, which offered a mix of general life instruction (know yourself, be authentic) in addition to the highly specific (and immensely useful) writing instruction having to do with language, tone, plot structure, characterization, and so on.


It was such a fantastic surprise that Ms. Bottner began by explaining the pressing need to rummage around in the dark subconscious closets and haul out what we've made sure to pack deep in the recesses because we've been afraid or unwilling to look at, think about, or even admit the presence of what's creeping about in there. They being the source of our conflicts and therefore the drivers of our actions.


Lately I've spent much time reviewing passages and what I'm seeing is that boring writing is superficial and disconnected -- from real life (lacks detail) and from human experience (lacks heart, lacks authentic expression of emotion and experience). I corresponded with a writer today about her poem, which I loved for its sheer discipline and precision, and she said it was fun to write.


No surprises there: in On Writing Well, Zinsser talks about "the intangibles that produce good writing--confidence, enjoyment, intention, and integrity."


As for me, it's a pleasure to work with writers who are having fun and it's even a greater pleasure when the fun shows up and waves at me from the page.

Words to Write By

Writing is related to character. If your values are sound, your writing will be sound. It all begins with intention. Figure out what you want to do and how you want to do it, and work your way with humanity and integrity to the completed article.

From On Writing Well: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction by William Zinsser.


I recommend books on writing about as often as I read books on writing--which is to say never.


Though it has been many years since I graduated from college, I still can't quite believe my luck in having studied writing (and literature) with the greatest of teachers: Marvin Mudrick. Nowhere to go after him.


But I couldn't and didn't--though I wish I could have--memorize every word he said about literature and writing. Hence the utility and pleasure of a book like On Writing Well. It is truly a pleasure to read. How many manuals or guides can you say that about?


If you are a writer and you haven't read it, do. You'll be so glad you did. If you know everything Zinsser tells you, you'll feel gratified; if you learn something new, you'll profit from it.

Speaking of Language, Cross-Referenced to Value-Added

Some item writers love multiple-choice language items; some hate them. I pitch my tent in the former category. Several years ago, I wrote all of the language items (writing conventions and writing strategies) that appeared on multiple parallel forms of a statewide high school exit examination. 

Language items may be either standalone or passage-dependent. The former are discrete entities, e.g.:

Read the sentence.

The Supreme Court may rule in favor of restrictions to freedom of speech when words are considered insendiary. 

Which is the correct spelling of the underlined word?

A incendiary *   B incendairy    C ensendiary     D Leave as is.

Passage-dependent language items accompany an editing passage as previously discussed. 

Language items may address any kind of writing skill or content knowledge targeted by an assessment: conventions (punctuation, capitalization, spelling), usage (grammar, diction), style (sentence structure and variety, diction), and organization (focus, elaboration, and support). (Rarely, writing applications skills are also assessed by multiple-choice items; one can easily see the difficulty of assessing any applied skill in this mode.)

There is some overlap (you see "diction" may fall into the usage camp or the style camp, for example, and sometimes grammar items fall into conventions, but basically, you might think of language items as mechanics and style/organization. Proofreading items then generally address mechanics, while editing and revision items may target either mechanics or style/organization, depending on the assessable skills.

Not all item writers can write language items. It's almost more of an editorly than a writerly undertaking, requiring a combination of specialized knowledge, persnicketiness, and an excellent grammar handbook. Some language items produced by unqualified writers are incomprehensible.

Sometimes these slip through the quality control cracks because language items are difficult to review because one must read very closely in order to identify that the error is an error, that the correct response is indeed correct, that the error is the type of error indicated by the standard/objective, and that there are no errors other than those intended. When we read, our brains automatically correct much of the error that we see, even when trained to do otherwise, so to review an item with intentional error that may also contain unintentional error is asking a lot. It's overwhelming, especially if you add in the editing passage, which means you have to do a lot of checking back and forth. Not to mention that a thorough knowledge of English usage and grammar is a rare commodity these days.

I have strong opinions about the content and construction of language items, to wit:

1. A language item should include only one type of error. A spelling item should not be contaminated by punctuation errors.

2. Each wrong answer choice should contain only one error.

3. The errors in the item must be the kinds of errors that students at the targeted grade level would reasonably make.

4. The errors should be obvious to the student who possesses the skill or content knowledge being assessed.

5. Trivial, why-bother sentences (or passages) should not be used to assess language skills. Language items should use actual facts in the stimulus sentences and paragraphs, rather than the easy but lame sentence.

Here is an example of an item with a trivial stimulus sentence:

Read the sentence.

 I haven't seen ______ since December.

Which pronoun should be used in the sentence?
A him *   B she    C they    D we

Here is an example of a language item based in fact:

Read the sentence.

 Langston Hughes had been writing poetry for years before Vachel Lindsay helped ____ publish his work.

 Which pronoun should be used in the sentence?

A he     B him *    C them    D they

I've written language items based on marine biology, space exploration, phenotypic plasticity, you name it. What is interesting in the world is a lot. There's no need to write about the purely meaningless.


UPDATE: Fixed some formatting with the MC items. Those are kind of tricky with the line breaks and indents.


UPDATE: Oh! I forgot to mention a recent dethspicable deplorable practice, that of using sentences from previously published (usually classic literature) as the stimulus for language items, either containing (newly imposed) embedded error or offering students options for improvements to the original (classic) writing.


Your mind is probably as boggled as mine was when first I came across this nastiness in the woodshed unspeakable horror unsound practice.


How might this work, you ask? Not well, as illustrated in the following examples.


Here is an example of the addition of error to a line from classic literature:

Read the sentence from Leo Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. 

Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing themselves.

Which word would best replace the underlined word in the sentence? 

A himself*   B myself   C ourselves   D Leave as is.  

Here is an example of an invitation to students to improve upon a line from classic literature:

Read the sentence from Leo Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. 

Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.

To avoid repetition, which word would best replace the underlined word in the sentence? 

A altering*   B becoming   C improving   D renovating   

Why would anyone perform such sacrilege and blasphemy do such a thing? From the best of intentions.


An item writer, bored with the trivial, why-bother stimulus sentences, feels inspired to use sentences culled from the books she loves, sentences that are themselves little masterpieces of beauty, wit, and style. Won't this be good for the students? And there is no one to stop her, as these sentences are stolen borrowed from works now in the public domain.


Good intentions, road to you-know-where, cross-referenced to the law of unintended consequences.

I've Got My Reasons

. . . in the immortal but out of context words of Talib Kweli.


Speaking of intention, what if one's intention be muddled? One wouldn't get very far. But even if one does not aspire to go far, one needs to know where one is going (and though it is always lovely to leave space for beautiful surprises, it's also good to have an idea of what one might do when one gets there).


That is, intention--like levels of interpretation--can rest comfortably in the shallows or can swim in the deepest depths of the deep blue sea.


A few weeks ago, I had a conversation with a colleague about the interpretation of figurative language. As we talked, I realized I have an internal framework for the interpretation of figurative language, a framework that I used when I taught, that I use when I help my daughters with their ELA homework*, and on which I absolutely rely in my work--but that I'd never fully articulated.


At the time, I was putting finishing touches on the manuscript of a book that will be published in June, God willing and the creek don't rise, a book with a title that leaves little room for ambiguity and makes up in clarity what it lacks in evocativeness (The Hidden Market for Children's Literature: Getting Paid to Write for Reading Tests) I decided to include this part of the conversation in the book toward the interest of value-added:

If we're talking about imagery and figurative language, we would say that the progressive levels of interpretation would proceed in a manner something like this:

1. literal meaning: this is the basic, word-by-word view and is restricted to the literal definitions of the words that are then combined into sentences, lines, and paragraphs to convey literal meaning. Nothing wrong with the shallows in some circumstances. Sometimes that is the best place to be.
2. sensory-dependent meaning: creating visual images, developing rhythm through meter and structure, musicality through rhyme, assonance, repetition, etc., and the sensations of touch and taste through the use of evocative words and phrases. I see this as the body level of interpretation.
3. connotative: suggestive of shades of meanings and feelings, thereby establishing and developing tone and mood. This is emotional.
4. in terms of author's craft: contributing to and supporting the development of narrative elements(e.g., characters, setting, plot). This is artistic and intellectual. 
5. symbolic: offering motifs to represent or carry the overarching theme and other big ideas of the work. Touching the soul here.
6. extending ideas and making connections: taking the aerial view and creating a bigger, more universal picture of the human experience that may cross genders, generations, social class, cultures, historical epochs, philosophical schools/movements, etc.; making allusions to people, objects, historical events, or even cultural (including artistic or literary) periods, values, and movements. Connecting with the universal human spirit.

To return to the aerial view, when we writers are working on an assignment, sometimes our intention is so limited that it becomes wrongheaded. We forget the big idea. We think that our intention is to deliver a certain number of words assembled according to certain rules by a certain date in order to get paid. (We're not the only ones who do this; it happens in companies, too. Who hasn't seen the tension between marketing and development? Not that tension is necessarily bad--I mean it in the sense of pulling from both sides--it keeps the tent aloft.)


Some of this is necessary, right? We have to sit down, engage the mental machinery, and produce. We can't always be floating among the stars. But, and--it's well to keep in mind the ultimate goal, the real underlying purpose, which in our case is generally to give a child a fair opportunity to show us what he knows or can do in a given arena of knowledge and skill.


Because knowing this helps us to make decisions in our work that will serve that child.




UPDATE: I always think of more to say after I walk away. Esprit d'escalier. This is directly related to the deplorable tendency to repeat standard language verbatim in test items. You see? The item writer is thinking in the limited terms of providing a question that meets the specifications at the lowest possible level: You want a transition item? Here is a transition item. Again in the immortal words of that great sage Oprah, when we know better, we do better. We can do better.


UPDATE: Oh, gracious, I forgot to add the footnote to the * following "ELA homework." Here it be:
* I simply cannot believe how much homework my daughters have. I will go out on a limb and say it is immoral. Why, you may well ask. Because one strategy to compensate for inadequate instruction is to load up on the homework and in so doing, assure oneself that the kids will learn as they plod through hours of busy work at home. Sometimes my daughters have 4-6 hours of homework. They're not getting a Ph.d. They're in the eighth grade.

First Things First

Years ago, I attended a writing workshop with Tom Jenks and Carol Edgarian. Now I don't even remember how I decided to go to this workshop, but I knew it was the right place for me when I learned that Anna Karenina (this translation) and Aristotle's Poetics were among the required reading for the week.


Now I'm reading Anna Karenina (again, I don't know how many times I have read it, though I don't think one could ever tire of it), and so I was thinking about something Tom and Carol said during the workshop, about how one's writing needs to have a big idea, that everything--everything!--in the writing should be developing and supporting this big idea.


As modest an endeavor as writing a test question is, it is still writing. Each question must have a big idea. And the item writer must know what that big idea is, and then marshal all of the everything of the item in support of that big idea.


Last November I went to that heaven on earth, home of all manner of delights, such as Frank Lloyd Wright houses and the Art Institute and French-fried green beans. I love Chicago. I love the people there--Stormy, husky, brawling/City of the Big Shoulders. (As the doorman of my hotel, whom I had come to know fairly well in the course of a few days of comings and goings, put me in a cab to travel to Oak Park late on a Friday evening, he said to the driver, "This here is my sister. You take care of her like she is my sister. You understand?" The funny part is that, indeed, we were of an age and did resemble each other closely enough to be siblings. Siblings raised apart, as we didn't share that distinctive accent.)


The reason for my visit was not just to have the best time in the world with my friend Carrie; it was to give a presentation on an assessment content development-related topic of my choosing. I rummaged around in my brain for a while before I came up with intention.


I thought of intention because of something that Kate Nash, my friend and genius dance teacher once said, probably in response to all of our awkwardly flailing limbs: that if you focus your intention, your bones will organize themselves. It reminded me of how, when I learned to ski, everyone told me not to look down, because I would fall. You cannot help but follow the direction of your gaze.


Then I found there was what seemed like an orienting magic in setting an intention. Having a laserlike focus burns off what is inessential. It builds a solid foundation. I tried intention in areas of my life other than dance. There was something about doing this simple step first that cleared away debris distractions.


Around that time, I was asked to perform triage ride in like the cavalry edit a set of questions that had been rejected by a customer. It soon became apparent that the main problem with the set was that the item writer had no firm intention. Not only was there no unifying purpose for the questions as a group, but each question could have been measuring two or more skills. Which meant that none of the questions could measure any skill accurately.


It takes time to do this, but more than time, it takes a reflective pause. Which may not sound like much--but when folks are busy and feeling overwhelmed, the reflective pause gets thrown overboard.


In the immortal words of Epictetus, First say to yourself what you would be, and then do what you have to do.


(When I returned home, my daughters were so jealous of all of my Chicago adventures, especially the French-fried green beans. I found a recipe and made a big batch and we ate a million each. It is safe to say neither of them will ever look at a French-fried green bean again. In fact, there is a ban on saying the words aloud in their presence.)


UPDATE: Identified supernova Kate Nash by name.

But Is It Art?

A couple of years ago, I spent an entire month writing stories, articles, and poems for a shelf product for a company that shall remain nameless. What could be more fun than that? With the poems, I amused myself by choosing different forms in which to write. The children who later read the poems had no idea they were reading a villanelle or a poem in terza rima, but the discipline of a strict form gave me license to be more creative with both content and language.

There's a kind of beauty in rigor and discipline; you can see this in any creative endeavor, including item writing. I've seen items that were elegant in their simplicity and adherence to the demands of the form. Following all the rules doesn't make for a perfect item--even a flatly literal basic recall item may be written perfectly, and yet be a bad item. But it's impossible to be ignorant of (or ignore) the rules and write a good item.

That having been said, when you have completely mastered the rules, you may want to break one or two once in a while, for a specific purpose. The catch is, of course, that the flouting of the rule must be intentional and purposeful, or it just looks like what it is: a mistake.