Nov. 9th, 2008

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Yamaraashi-chan's sixth grade class is studying writing. This entertains Omaha and I to no end. We have rectified some of Yamaraashi-chan's misunderstandings by introducing her to the non-fiction section of our Writer's Digest collection, but the little booklet her teacher gave her was a pretty good introduction.

In fact, it was so good that I photocopied sections of it. Sometimes, we adult writers can benefit from the experiences and even the materials used to educate children. There are whole lists of concepts and first-tier adjectives and verbs associated with them, which I've decided to keep. While the thesaurus is a rockin' resource, sometimes linking "sadness" and "unloved" isn't as easy as it sounds. Having these lists is a good start, a second-tier intellectual starting point to exploring Roget's world.

There is one section that I take offense to, however. What it says is simply so wrong that I worry it will distort my kid's writing habits for years to come. The school, in its infinite wisdom, has chosen to ban a word from my child's creative writing. That word is "said." The section is entitled, "Said is dead," has a big picture of the word said stricken out (just like that) and instead provides an entire page, in 8-point arial, of alternatives to "said."

If you google for the phrase, "just use said," you'll find hundreds of published writers more or less agreeing: "Just use 'said'." Dialogue isn't like the description of any other action, and the content of a dialogue is contained in the dialogue itself. The rest of each paragraph in a dialogue contains things the characters do. We use "said" as furniture, the simplest way, short of writing a play with stage directions, to indicate who is speaking. You don't want to write "Jim argued," you want to write dialogue in which Jim argues. If a character "restates" something, just write the dialogue twice.

I may ask her teacher about this.
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I was at a friend's house yesterday, and on her roommate's bookshelf I spotted a catalog from Bud K, the catalog for every fifteen-year-old boy of any age. It's basically a fantasy weapons shop, selling all manner of knives, "wolverine" claws, stun guns, batons, sword canes, "ninjawear" of every sharpness and stupidity. Alongside all this Darwinian self-de-selection gear there was Harley Davidson clothing, "America: Love it or Leave" lines of apparel, and "fantasy" figurines of improbably proportioned women bending, arcing, and otherwise showing off their virtual wares.

I am, sadly, long past the age when that kind of stuff stiffens more than my resolve. As I flipped through it, though, I got an unpleasant vibe. Along with all this pseudoAmericana was a disturbing amonut of pseudoNaziana, including "Authentic 1942 German Helmet," complete with your choices of German Army, Luftwaffe, SS, or Nazi Party insignia, replica broomhandle Mausers, and "German Army Eagle Daggers," which you could optionally choose to have engraved with the motto of the SS, "Meine Ehre heißt Treue," (My Honor is Truth). Oh, and while we're at it, there's a ton of Confederate States of America insignia throughout the catalog.

And there, in the middle of all of this paraphenalia celebrating testosterone, death, maiming, and pain, one item jumped to my attention. Completely innocuous and out of place: A "genuine Italian™ Stone Leather™" Bible Cover.

Why isn't cognitive dissonance more painful?

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Elf Sternberg

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