WRITING TOOLS
How much of a writer’s style (and success?) is influenced or even determined, helped or hindered, by the standard writing tool of his time? For example, how would typing on a computer have changed Shakespeare’s body of work? Was it simply his destiny to arrive at to be or not to be, that is the question regardless of whether he wrote by hand, typewriter, or computer, or would there be distinct versions, different shades of that phrase, depending on which machine the initial thought had been grinded through? Perhaps Socrates cut short a particular exploration because he couldn’t muster up the energy to rewrite it for the twenty-ninth time. What if Proust had access to Microsoft Word—would entire passages of Remembrance of Things Past have fallen victim to the ravenous delete button? Would the book’s structure be entirely something different because of the ease of cutting and pasting? Mark Twain relied on dictation. He found writing by hand to be an impediment to his work, sidetracking him into pointless reflection. The gait and style and movement are not suited to narrative, he said. What if, instead of on a laptop, I wrote this book with ink and feather?
X
X, MARKING WITH
Please X accordingly.
XX
I like being a girl. I like the clothes that go with the gender: tank tops, jeans, short patterned skirts, flared pants. I would not like to have to wear a suit every day; I think I would find it boring, not to mention the choking constriction of the tie and top buttoned dress shirt. And the shoes are better, too, I think. I like that as a girl I basically never have to feel obligated to play rough—football especially, that really does not appeal to me. I feel that I am on the bonus end of some sexist habits: for example, in the winter I get to wait in the restaurant’s warm entryway while my husband goes and pulls the car around. Perhaps I should offer to reciprocate, but this never seems to be even mildly expected. The door thing, I can go either way on that; I like when it is held for me, but also like the feeling of doing my part when I hold it for others, be it male, female, or child. I suppose we girls do get the short end of the stick when it comes to taking our tops off in the hot weather: I always envied boys that, and think how freeing and pleasant it must feel, particularly the first moment, the contrast between sticky sweaty T-shirt and slight breeze on exposed skin. Even with the legendary long restroom lines, I would still say female trumps male based on the private stalls versus urinals alone. Even the word itself is awful: urinal. As mere letters on paper it still manages to release a certain stench and make one grimace. I have to say I never much minded the whistling or hey baby-ing, maybe because it doesn’t happen all that often to me, and also because early on I discovered a leveling response that feels comfortable (tossing a quick peace sign their way) and that simultaneously acknowledges the fellow and shuts him up. I’d say, if you are going to be a girl, all in all, now is a pretty good time: we can choose, vote, walk down the street without a veil, escort or curfew, hunt, gather or both.
Y
YOU
Perhaps you think I didn’t matter because I lived ——— years ago, and back then life wasn’t as lifelike as it is to you now; that I didn’t truly, fully, with all my senses, experience life as you are presently experiencing it, or think about ——— as you do, with such intensity and frequency.
But I was here.
And I did things.
I shopped for groceries. I stubbed my toe. I danced at a party in college and my dress spun around. I hugged my mother and father and hoped they would never die. I pulled change from my pocket. I wrote my name with my finger on a cold, fogged-up window. I used a dictionary. I had babies. I smelled someone barbecuing down the street. I cried to exhaustion. I got the hiccups. I grew breasts. I counted the tiles in my shower. I hoped something would happen. I had my blood pressure taken. I wrapped my leg around my husband’s leg in bed. I was rude when I shouldn’t have been. I watched the celloist’s bow go up and down, and adored the music he made. I picked at a scab. I wished I was older. I wished I was younger. I loved my children. I loved mayonnaise. I sucked my thumb. I chewed on a blade of grass.
I was here, you see. I was.
[The end.]
Permissions
“Busy” entry originally appeared in The New York Times (June 3, 1999).
“Wreck” entry will appear in Parenting Magazine, March 2005.
Grateful acknowledgment is made to the following for permission to reprint previously published and unpublished material:
Bruce Bendinger:
“Flahoolick” from The Book of Gossage, by Howard Gossage and Bruce Bendinger. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Houghton Mifflin Company:
“March 29th, 2003” from The American Heritage Dictionary Word-a-Day Calendar from The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition. Dictionary entry and art copyright © 2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company.
Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Company. Permission for calendar format given by Andrews McMeel Publishing.
All rights reserved.
The Kenneth Koch Literary Estate:
“You Want a Social Life, with Friends” from “Songs from the Plays” found in Straits by Kenneth Koch (Alfred A. Knopf, New York, 1998). Reprinted by permission of The Kenneth Koch Literary Estate.
Tony Rogers:
Excerpts from “Tony’s Dream” by Tony Rogers.
Reprinted by permission of the dreamer.
Jon Spayde:
Excerpt from piece on “Wabi-Sabi,” originally appeared in Utne Reader (August 8, 2001). Reprinted by permission of the author.
Grateful acknowledgment is made to the following for permission to reprint illustrative material:
Encyclopaedia Britannica, Inc.:
Image of spine of a volume of Encyclopaedia Britannica (this page) courtesy of Encyclopaedia Britannica, Inc. Reprinted with permission.
Charise Mericle Harper:
“Thursday” painting (this page) courtesy of Charise Mericle Harper. Reprinted by permission of the artist.
Lois Gibson:
Forensic sketches of Amy Krouse Rosenthal (this page) rendered by Lois Gibson (LoisGibson.com), pastel on Canson Mi Tientes paper appro1ximately 12” X 9”. Reprinted by permission of the artist.
John Scott:
Yoga positions chart (this page) courtesy of John Scott.
Reprinted by permission of the artist.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amy Krouse Rosenthal is, alphabetically, an author of adult and children’s books; contributor to magazines and NPR; host of the literary and music variety show Writers’ Block Party on Chicago Public Radio; and mother of some kids. She lives in Chicago.
Visit www.encyclopediaofanordinarylife.com.
Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life Page 16
