Clearly, by Phillip Hoyle

My writing teachers are still trying to teach me to write clearly. That seems like quite a challenge for a teacher to take on. While most of my instructors really have liked me—I am easy to get along with—they have had little clue of how my mind works, its story-laden way of expressing truth, its constant internal argument about what this writer wants, believes, and cares about, its strange logic, and its confusion over things spatial. Now that’s a special-education brain if there ever was one. I’m neither proud of nor ashamed it, for it’s the only one I have. Many teachers have set out to set me straight. Obviously they failed to do that although they have taught me many helpful and creative processes, ideas, and the like.

When I was first given a contract for a write-for-hire curriculum resources project and sent in my first draft of the first session, it came back to me looking very sorry, dripping in red ink and words of encouragement. I made the required changes—the ones in red ink—and thought through all the suggested comments—written in blue pencil. I didn’t have to make all these blue changes. I quickly typed in the red comments and found out that my editor took my awkward, unclear sentences and with a few red-ink changes made them say exactly what I meant. I was impressed and wondered where I was when they were handing out brains. What did I ask for? Perhaps I just wanted to have a good time which might not necessarily mean to think clearly.

My patient teachers have had to slow me down, to make me read and reread everything about a hundred times, over a time period lasting several months, sometimes several years. Of course that never works in write-for-hire jobs; the editors have deadlines to meet. I gave them things on time and looked forward to their corrections to make clear just what I was trying to say. I guess for them my being on time was a higher value that first-try clarity. They kept using me for ten years. Then I was done with that kind of writing.

Unfortunately, SAGE of the Rockies “Telling Your Story” program doesn’t give me enough time. I mess around in my early morning writing and scratch a few lines or run to the word processor and peck away hoping not to compound my lack of clarity with too many typos. It’s fun to write these stories, and I hope no listeners or readers spend too much time trying to analyze my logic or even common sense. If I have logic I’m sure it’s not common. If you hear or read something funny, just laugh. If I’m around I’ll smile with you. It’s all just another story to me. Did I say that last clearly enough?

And thanks for being as patient as have been my teachers and editors. 

© 20 November 2017

About the Author

Phillip Hoyle lives in Denver and spends his time writing, painting, and socializing. In general he keeps busy with groups of writers and artists. Following thirty-two years in church work and fifteen in a therapeutic massage practice, he now focuses on creating beauty. He volunteers at The Center leading the SAGE program “Telling Your Story.”

He also blogs at artandmorebyphilhoyle.blogspot.com