There are at least six ways of effectively linking evidence and claims. Richard Fulkerson’s Teaching the Argument in Writinghas a chapter devoted to them. They are argument for a Generalization, from Analogy and Sign, Causal arguments, and arguments from Authority and Principle. None guarantee anything and all can be used fallaciously, but when used well they can be extremely persuasive. This link describes them in greater detail.
GASCAP
Concession in the wild
From Atul Gawande’s compelling essay “Hellhole” in the 30 March 09 New Yorker:
The main argument for using long-term isolation in prisons is that it provides discipline and prevents violence. When inmates refuse to follow the rules—when they escape, deal drugs, or attack other inmates and corrections officers—wardens must be able to punish and contain the misconduct. Presumably, less stringent measures haven’t worked, or the behavior would not have occurred. And it’s legitimate to incapacitate violent aggressors for the safety of others. So, advocates say, isolation is a necessary evil, and those who don’t recognize this are dangerously naïve.
The argument makes intuitive sense. If the worst of the worst are removed from the general prison population and put in isolation, you’d expect there to be markedly fewer inmate shankings and attacks on corrections officers. But the evidence doesn’t bear this out. Perhaps the most careful inquiry into whether supermax prisons decrease violence and disorder was a 2003 analysis examining the experience in three states—Arizona, Illinois, and Minnesota—following the opening of their supermax prisons. The study found that levels of inmate-on-inmate violence were unchanged, and that levels of inmate-on-staff violence changed unpredictably, rising in Arizona, falling in Illinois, and holding steady in Minnesota.
Can you identify where Gawande summaries an objection to his claim that extended solitary confinement is cruel and unusual punishment? With which word does he begin his concession to those who support solitary confinement? With which word does he begin to redeem the case for ending solitary confinement? How does he support his claim?
Revising openings
Never underestimate your opening. From the always excellent Metro: Journeys in Writing Creatively,this exercise suggests eight useful options for you to consider as you revise. Remember that while the most important opening begins your draft (whether novel, novella, or story), each chapter or section also opens.
Global revision and characterization
First, an example of global revision. Barry Hughart’s Bridge of Birds: A Novel of an Ancient China That Never Was was published in 1984. Here’s a brief excerpt. Also available online, a PDF of the first draft.
What do you notice when you compare pages 38-43 (the brief excerpt) with just the second and third pages of the first draft? What do the changes Hughart made add? Why might he have made them?
Second, Susan Bell’s The Artful Edit: On the Practice of Editing Yourself provides what she calls a “Macro-Edit Diagnostic Checklist” which can usefully indicate ways of thinking globally about your draft.
The second item on Bell’s checklist has to do with characterization and says in part, “Ask of your protagonist: What does she want? If you don’t know, develop the character more until you (and the reader) do” (88-89). In direct contrast with this is Robert Boswell’s essay “The Half-Known World” from his book The Half-Known World: On Writing Fiction. Boswell says “There can be no discovery in a world where everything is known. A crucial part of the writing endeavor is the practice of remaining in the dark” (23-24). He argues that discovery is important for keeping readers and writers engaged.
Boswell continues:
If I were to write a how-to primer for the creation of characters, I would put together a different set of question than those typically posed. It might go something like this:
- What did your character forget to do this morning?
- Why does your character think he ought to be fired?
- What recent mistake vaguely reminds your character of a previous mistake she can’t name?
- What stupid thing kept her awake last night?
- If you met your character in a bar, what would she think of you? In what ways would she be right? What would she get wrong? What would she see about you that you don’t yet understand about yourself?
These questions won’t explain anything or anybody, but they may give you a handle by which you can pull yourself into this character’s life. You do not know what the character wants, but you may have enough that you can begin exploring the character in a narrative, and you may eventually discover it. (23)
I encourage you to revise at least as radically as Hughart and consider whether you need to know more or what you might leave out about a character.
Annotated bibliographies and rhetorical strategies
Consider these three examples of how the first sentences of an annotated bibliography can address a source’s use of rhetorical strategies:
- Crucial to Spunk & Bite’s persuasiveness is Plotnik’s ethos as a friendly iconoclast, which he begins to establish with the title of his first chapter: “E.B. Whitewashed.”
- A range of words that lend it academic credibility surround Helen Fein’s essay “Genocide by Attrition 1939-1993,” including “Harvard,” “PhD,” and an abstract in three languages. This probably increases the essay’s persuasive power for studious audiences.
- The first chapter of John C. Bean’s Engaging Ideas begins with a rational for the book’s organization: “Teachers who are pressed for time can read this chapter and then . . . turn directly to the other chapters that address their most immediate concerns” (1-2). This direct appeal to his audience, indicating an awareness of their needs and respect for their autonomy, very likely persuades them to read on.
Abraham Lincoln
Adam Gopnik’s “Angles and Ages” is an excellent essay about influences on Lincoln’s language and how his language has since influenced our culture.
IVY LEAGUE REVISION
If you know the source of these links and this commentary, please let me know so I can offer proper attribution.
Harvard’s set of revision tips:
http://www.fas.harvard.edu/~wricntr/documents/Revising.html
An original <moderately amusing> contribution from Harvard: the “Backward Outline.” Check it out.
Yale’s Tips in Senior Essay Handout:
http://www.yale.edu/history/documents/2008-2009SrEssayHandbook.pdf
An original <puzzling> thought from Yale: See “Polishing the Rough Draft” on p. 35. “What do subheads tell you?” (I don’t know. What do they tell you?)
Princeton’s set of revision tips:
http://web.princeton.edu/sites/writing/Writing_Center/handouts/html/Revision.htm
An <almost> original idea from Princeton: “Levels of Revision: Ideas Before Sentences and Mechanics” While revising prose is important, don’t restrict your revision to checking the clarity of individual sentences. Remember, there’s no point in spending a lot of time refining your sentences if your ideas are sloppy and disorganized, and if you’re going to end up cutting those sentences once you’ve straightened out what you want to say.
Dartmouth’s set of revision tips:
http://www.dartmouth.edu/~writing/materials/student/ac-paper/revise.html#objectivity
A scintillating <cozy> idea from Dartmouth: “Get a second reader.” A second reader can do a lot for you: she can tell you where she got bored, or confused, or offended, and she can give you advice for improving your work. Remember, though: when you ask someone to read your work, you should be prepared for any criticism they might make. Don’t be defensive.
Oxford’s Tips:
http://www.admin.ox.ac.uk/shw/revision.shtml
A jolly good <mental health> tip from Oxford: Reduce anxiety! Revise subjects that make you feel anxious fairly early on so that you reduce the anxiety and feel you have the time to deal with them. It may be best not to do them first however but to begin with something you know well to boost your confidence. Never leave subjects that cause you anxiety till the last minute.
Freaknest
I finished Lance Olsen’s Freaknestlast week. Very interesting. It’s easy to call it experimental speculative fiction. It takes place, for example, in a future full of astonishingly Godish technology that doesn’t seem to have solved a single enduring human problem.
The narrator’s omniscient. The language Olson uses thoroughly reflects the characters, some of whom are found feral children learning the language and culture around them. Olsen shows this learning when he narrates from within the developing consciousnesses of these characters. Over the course of the novel the feral children’s identities and perceptions of the world change as they are taught to speak and read. Philosophical questions about language, consciousness, and identity are implied. In addition to language, the other large force acting on consciousness is memory, specifically selective memory:
‘If you have an excess of recollections, you don’t have yourself either, do you.’ . . .
‘Amnesia as an active process. Knowing as distraction.’
‘Forgetting might just be good for your health. Sure. Maybe the most important feature of your hard drive becomes its ability to be indefinitely rewritable.’ . . .
‘And certain emotions . . . dependent for their being on an understanding of the past—devotion, say, or revenge, or hope, or despair—they don’t exist anymore.’ (232).
The characters wrestle with these ideas and don’t seem happy with the consequences. So, how might you show characters facing appropriate philosophical problems without becoming too abstract? The problems Olsen’s characters face grow out of their experiences, the setting, and the themes of the entire novel. Does what you’ve written suggest philosophical issues in a similar way?
As I think William Gass said, if it’s experimental, you (the writer) ought to know what you’re experimenting with. I imagine Olsen deciding to experiment with genre expectations (it is a tragic naïf’s tale of ideas after all), language (though shouldn’t most speculative fiction be written to reflect the impact of culture and time on language, including appropriate coinages like, for Olsen, “governcorp”?) and the techniques of characterization. So, and especially if you’re calling your work experimental, what creative writing technique(s) does your text experiment with? Which specific words of your text can you quote as evidence of your experimentation? To push this slightly farther, what hypothesis does you text test and how will you measure results?
If you read speculative fiction (or philosophy), I recommend this book.
Chapter strategies
“Four Approaches to the Chapter” by Paul Graham and Mary Atwell from the Writer’s Chronicle suggests interesting strategies for chapters. As writers move from a rough to revised draft, they have an opportunity to use these and other strategies while building their chapters.
The Behavior Book and The American Woman’s Home
An important way to increase your understanding of a text is understand its historical and discursive contexts. By historical contexts, I mean answers to questions like what sorts of events were taking place around the time the text was being written? What were the concerns, anxieties, and joys of the culture at that moment in its history? By discursive contexts, I mean what others sorts of texts were being written? How were similar themes addressed? Answering these questions can be easier with a “peer text.” There are, for example, several texts written at about the same time as The Coquette in The Norton Anthology of American Literature. Here is a link to PDF excerpts from two more, The Behavior Book and The American Woman’s Home.