Jeri
Reilly is a writer and freelance editor. She is currently writing a
book--a manifesto for baby boomers--with co-author Eric Utne. She blogs
about word matters at www.jerireilly.com and can be followed on twitter
@jerireilly. She lives in Minneapolis and sometimes in Ireland.
Tell us about your background as an editor and writer.
I
fell into editing because I was a writer. For many years I worked for a
cultural organization where I wrote and edited all kinds of
communications for management.
One
day I told my boss I needed to get some credentials--so that when I
told this or that manager that they had to change a word or a sentence, I
would know which rule to cite. So they wouldn't take it personally. My
boss agreed, and so I flew to Chicago and took an intensive course
taught by the managing editor of the Chicago Manual of Style.
I
returned to work elated: I had my University of Chicago Publishing
School certificate, I knew my way around the latest edition of CMS, and I had a lovely box of (erasable) colored pencils for marking up pages.
Editing
has given me a lot of freedom. It made it possible for me to live in
Ireland after I left that full-time job. When I moved to a 200-year-old
stone cottage halfway up a mountain, I brought my American clients with
me, via dial-up internet. One of my writers, a memoirist, did not write
on the computer but was undaunted by the distance between us.
He
would mail his drafts to me in a sturdy box, and when I was done
marking up his 350 or so pages, back they would go into the box and
across the Atlantic to Hackensack, Minnesota.
When
I wasn't editing and writing I was trying to survive in Ireland. The
day's chores included keeping a fire going in an enameled Rayburn range,
and that involved tongs, a metal bucket, and lots of turf, coal, and
ashes. A wayward ram kept a peaceable eye on me from where he had newly
settled under a large ash tree outside my kitchen window. A primordial
band of horned and bearded mountain goats sometimes passed the woods
beside my cottage--etching the air with their feral emissions.
I
was no longer living an abstract and hygienic existence. I was living
through my senses, and that changed my writing, pulled me out of my
head.
Also, I was immersed in what is really another form of English, and that shook up my diction and syntax.
But
to get back to your question--although editing and writing seem to be
closely related, they are completely different kinds of activities. I
recently wrote a blog post about this because some people say you can't
be a good editor if you are also a writer. I know you can be--but only
if you take off your writer's hat while you are editing and lock it up.
Why are you passionate about editing/writing?
I
write and edit because I love language and words. And because reading
and writing are humanizing activities. Writing roots you.
To
be a writer is not to be a technician of language as much as a
fortifier of language. Marketspeak exhausts, if not corrupts, our
language, and we writers have to charge it up again, word by word. We
preserve language by refreshing it. That is one of the pleasures of
being a writer.
Some
people say we are moving to a post-literary culture. Maybe this is so.
But despite all our digital technology, I think language remains our
coolest invention. Stories will always be as essential to our survival
as food and water.
Your
recent post on the power of three in writing--can you recap the most
important points? Why is this topic interesting to you?
When
I am editing, I sometimes have to invoke the Rule of Three, that is,
whenever the cluster of items the writer has used is more or less than
three. It seems that groups of threes are naturally most pleasing to our
mind, eyes, and ears. As I said in my post, when you present a list,
you do it most indelibly if you do it in threes.
I was moved to write The Power of Three after discovering the rhetorical term for this phenomenon, tricolon, in a piece by Sam Leith on Draft, the New York Times writing blog. Tricolon refers to a sentence with three parts such as, I came, I saw, I conquered.
I've since discovered a related term, hendriatris, which
refers to the use of three words to convey a single concept or image,
such as "cool, calm, and collected" and "tall dark, and handsome."
While
our affinity for threes still seems a bit mystical to me, there is,
reportedly, a neurological basis for it. We humans are pattern makers,
and three is the smallest number required to make a memorable pattern.
It's no wonder then that we carry so many threesomes in our heads: life,
liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; blood, sweat, and tears; beg,
borrow, and steal.
We writers, then, can work some magic when we summon the power of three.
Imagine if Julius Caesar had written, I came, I saw, I conquered, I went. Surely his report on the war against Pharnaces II in 47 BC would not have been remembered--and quoted--all these millennia since.
This Week's Writing Exercise
1. Read Jeri's post, The Power of Three, by clicking on the title.
2. Think about how you use the power of three in your own writing. Are you taking advantage of this tool?
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