I read at a gathering organized by Poetry Couture alongside Smeetha Bhowmick and others at Kulture Shop in Bandra, Mumbai. We were the featured poets before an open mic session. The audience and energy were fantastic. The folks at Poetry Couture are organized, professional, and lovely. They gave Smeetha and me a generous amount of time each. They seemed genuinely happy to be doing this. And they’re trying to do some great stuff around the country. Please give them some love on their FB page.
Besides being in between places, I’m also in between jobs. After three years of handling communications at Gender at Work, I’m moving on. To what? This and that, say I vaguely. Which is to say the freedom of freelance, the getting up in the morning, hunting for a gig kinda thing. It’s time. Frightening as it may be, I feel more alive this way. The hunt, the perpetual hunt. The possibility of being anyone. Less romantically, I’m in the market for writing/editing contracts etc.
I almost called this post in medias res, then didn’t. Convincing experts to simplify their language is tough. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now, because it’s the kind of work I’ve been doing for a long time now. Steven Pinker says in The Sense of Style: The Thinking Person’s Guide to Writing in the 21st Century that “When we are apprentices in our chosen specialty, we join a clique in which, it seems to us, everyone else seems to know so much! And they talk among themselves as if their knowledge were second nature to every educated person.” We then start to jabber, speak in code, nonsensical to people outside the universe. Sometimes we’re convinced that’s the right way to speak. Sometimes, we’re shit scared of not speaking like that. “Even when we have an inkling that we are speaking in a specialized lingo, we may be reluctant to slip back into plain speech. It could betray to our peers the awful truth that we are still greenhorns, tenderfoots, newbies.”
Good ol’ insecurity.
He goes on to say: “…if you are enough of an expert in a topic to have something to say about it, you have probably come to think about it in abstract chunks and functional labels that are now second nature to you but still unfamiliar to your readers—and you are the last one to realize it. As writers, then, we should try to get into our readers’ heads and be mindful of how easy it is to fall back on parochial jargon and private abstractions. But these efforts can take us only so far. None of us has, and few of us would want, a power of clairvoyance that would expose to us everyone else’s private thoughts.” The answer, he suggests is reviewers, people who will offer critique. The logic of the workshop. I helped out at a writer’s room for a tv series earlier this month. It was interesting to see how each of us have our own linguistic tics, words we keep using, phrases, even character arcs that we fall back on. The collaborative process is great for avoiding one person’s particular weaknesses. (On the flip side, things can go awfully slow on a bad day and pleasing everyone can mean a design-by-committee problem i.e. everyone’s ok with it but nobody loves it.)