When Rewriting Becomes Mitosis

When I posted my Homeland article two days ago, the first few paragraphs looked more or less like they do now.

I give writers the benefit of the doubt. When I see a flawed female character, I assume the writer intended not to impugn all women, but to create a flawed character who happens to be female. So I usually disagree with articles like the one Kathleen J. McInnis wrote for the Atlantic: "How 'Homeland' Undercuts Real Women in Government".

In the case of "Homeland", however, I'm on the feminist side. I agree with McInnis and disagree with the nasty comments on her article: not because Carrie, the lead character, is a flawed woman, but because those flaws, considered both in relation to one another and to a broader context, have troubling implications.

The point of the article is to convey my concern over a character which trivializes strong women. I lead with a rhetorical device: the contradiction between my usual reaction, and my reaction to this particular character. The first paragraph sets up the contrast, and the second brings it home as it states my theme. It's a simple one-two punch.

Since then I've been revising the parts that didn't flow well, especially the first paragraph. I kept wanting to expand upon it, to explain why I give writers the benefit of the doubt. Eventually I succumbed to the temptation to expand the first sentence into a separate paragraph. Here's what the lead-in looked like when I went to bed last night.

Writing is never easy. Writing words that are true to the ideas in my head is fiendishly difficult. Writing words that convey those ideas to other heads with even a modicum of fidelity is well-nigh impossible. That's why I give writers the benefit of the doubt.

When I see a flawed female character, I begin with the assumption that the writer intends not to impugn all women, but rather to write a flawed character who happens to be female. So I usually disagree with articles like the one Kathleen J. McInnis wrote for the Atlantic: "How 'Homeland' Undercuts Real Women in Government".

In the case of "Homeland", however, I'm on the feminist side. I agree with McInnis and disagree with the nasty comments on her article: not because Carrie, the lead character, is a flawed woman, but because those flaws, considered both in relation to one another and to a broader context, have troubling implications.

It was too much, and I knew it. It lengthens the simple one-two punch into a three-part rhetorical chain. By the time you reach my theme, you've gotten turned around twice, and you don't know what the article is supposed to be about. But I couldn't resist.

Today I whittled that first paragraph back down to one sentence to bring the lead-in back to two paragraphs. Then I expanded upon the first sentence until it was several sentences, and calved it off into its own paragraph once again. Then I whittled. Then I expanded. Whittled. Expanded. By the time I reined myself in and reverted to something like my first draft, I had the following pile of fragmentary beginnings.

There's a nothing harder than translating an idea into words, and nothing easier than for readers to go ahead and misconstrue those words anyway. That's why I like to give writers the benefit of the doubt.

There's a uniquely bitter feeling of deflation in finding that readers have misconstrued words I thought perfectly expressed an idea in my head.

The bitter thing about writing is that the words seem exactly as perfect as they aren't. can be every bit as easy to misconstrue as they were hard to write.

Readers will misconstrue your words to a degree proportional to your belief in their perfection.

As hard as you believe your words are perfect, a reader can come along and misunderstand them even harder.

are exactly

We make plans and God just laughs. Likewise, we write and the reader misunderstands. The words seem as perfect as they aren't.

There's a law of equal and opposite reactions in writing.

I write words that I know to be perfect, then the reader shows me I don't know a damned thing.

Man plans and God laughs, and there is no crueler God than the reader. It hurts when people can't see what I thought was perfectly apparent in my words.

as it is to write words that seem true, it remains both easy and

is exactly as easy for my words to be misunderstood as it was 

For me to write words that seem true is as difficult as it is glorious. For a reader to misconstrue those words is as easy as it is heartbreaking. That's why 

Obviously I need to express the pain of writing words that seem perfect yet are misconstrued. But that's not what the piece is about. That first sentence, "I give writers the benefit of the doubt," is fine on its own. To unpack it weakens the piece. I need to let it be. But damn it, it itches.

That itch has become familiar. It's a separate piece wanting to be born. I need to write about writing. I need to write about how necessary and painful writing has become. Then I have to cut the umbilical cord and come back to this piece with my full attention.