In my opinion you dont have to worry about grammar especially as a new writer just starting out.

There will always be time to go back and add the comma after “In my opinion.” You’ll have time to debate using “don’t” or “do not.” You can second guess whether the introduction should be one or two sentences. Should there be a comma between “grammar” and “especially.” A semi-colon? What about, “starting out,” “getting started,” or end it right at, “as a new writer.”

Sure, grammar is important and I understand why it’s taught right away in elementary school. Having good grammar is viewed like having the right shooting form in basketball or establishing the mechanics of a perfect golf swing. The somewhat true belief: If you don’t learn it early on, you’ll develop bad habits and those habits become harder and harder to break.

But too much emphasis on grammar can also develop a more dangerous habit of overthinking every sentence. When you have endless rules about nouns, verbs, adjectives drilled into you at 8-years-old, when you practice diagramming sentences, feeling more like a surgeon than a writer, when you learn the rules of commas, memorize expressions like “I before E except after C,” all of these things add up and it’s like adding a list of safety precautions to your process; ultimately slowing down creativity.

And then when do you finally turn something in, you’ll see all of these red marks and crossed out words. It makes the next story that much harder to get down on paper.

There’s too much red pen in general, but especially in elementary school. Imagine if second, third, fourth graders turned in their papers and instead of any grammar marks, there were comments like, “Wow, loving the style of this! I think you’d like reading Roald Dahl. I think you’d like Judy Blume.” Or, “Hey, you like writing about bugs, you should check out these two books. You’ll love ’em.” Building an early love of reading will do more good for a writer than memorizing a list of rules. Plus, if you’re reading a lot, there’s natural osmosis with grammar. You won’t know the specific rules but you’ll be able to spot a sentence and say, “Eh, that one looks funny.”

The other problem, especially as we moved on to middle school and high school, is all of those dreaded five-paragraph essays would be due on a Monday morning. What would happen? We’d write them on Sunday night. We procrastinate the things we don’t want to do and when writing has become this cold process of rules and trying not to make a mistake, no wonder we pushed the paper off until after the Sunday Night Football game.

A healthier writing process would have been to make a paper due in three parts. Deadlines are good, they give a final push to get something out there. But the first round, every student should get a 60 out of 100. No matter what they turn in. The goal of Round 1 is just getting something down on paper. Then you spend the next three days celebrating.

And here I am making rules about “not making rules,” but students should be given no notes on their rough draft for those three days and encouraged not to look back at their papers. Build some distance from it.

Then you start the rewriting process. First by looking at the bigger picture. Do the arguments make sense? The intro paragraphs. What can be cut? What can be reworked? The next 20-30 points out of 100 are all about the rewrites. Having a few days where you don’t look at the paper helps you see it in a new light. Make some changes. Turn it in. Celebrate again.

The final stage, then, is line editing. Now it’s time to ruthlessly look at the grammar. The difference between 93 percent and a 97 comes down to all of those nagging rules about commas and not ending a sentence with a preposition.

This way you start to separate writing – which is really just storytelling – from rewriting and separate revision from grammar editing. Students can then start to say, “I love writing, I’m just not a big fan of editing,” or, “I’m more of an editor than a writer,” versus getting a 70% C- and saying a blanket statement of, “Oh, I must not be a good writer.”

I’m writing this all about school, but the same thing applies if you’re getting back into writing for fun or working on a book in retirement. The downside is you’ll have years of those perfection rules standing in the way. The default setting will be second-guessing your work.

But I want to show you something real quick. Something I hope will be encouraging. Here’s the first paragraph of Charles Dickens’ Tale of Two Cities, one of the most famous openings in literary history:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way–in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

Had Dickens turned this in to three different editors or grammar editing software, one might say, “This is a run-on sentence. And you can’t use the word ‘it’ so often. Especially to open a sentence.” Another might say, “You need to get rid of words like ‘epoch’ and ‘incredulity,’ no one’s gonna know what those mean.” And another might say, “Dude, just say, ‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,’ and move on. You’re killing us with these long-winded emails.”

If one of the most famous opening paragraphs in literary history could still have all of these nitpicky grammar “mistakes” to consider, then think about how much less pressure we should put on ourselves, especially our rough drafts. There should be way more freedom! Because yes, a typo or a glaring grammar mistake can damage an otherwise perfect sentence, but there’s also never been a moment when I’ve been reading a great story, stopped, highlighted a passage and said to myself, “Wow, look how perfect the grammar was right here!” No. The great passages stand out for reasons we can’t really explain. It just works. It hits us right. We know it when we see it.

Which means the truly great writing reaches a higher tier than perfection. So why not set our sights higher than trying to be perfect? Writing is not about the rules, it’s about telling a story in your voice. The way it was always meant to be told.

I’m working on two outlets for people to reclaim a love of writing or start writing for the first time. The first is Long Overdue Stories which is intended to help people record their own stories or stories from parents/grandparents. The other is Long Overdue Books where authors can publish their books for a wider audience, one chapter at a time.

For anyone in Chicago, I’ll be hosting a class about how to turn your stories into a book on March 4th from 7-9 pm at Third Space in Lakeview East. If you’d like to attend, you can register here or email me directly at [email protected]. 

I’ll be taking the month of March off from the blog, but I’m excited for some of the posts coming up in April and May. Hint: Get ready for a few restaurant review blogs.

Jeanine Cummins’ novel, “American Dirt” hit the proverbial jackpot when it received the Oprah bump a few weeks back, selected as a 2020 Book Club read.

It has also been at the center of a publishing firestorm, which is well summarized here. The story of a Mexican woman and her young son on the run from a cartel boss, written not by a person of Mexican heritage, but of a white woman with Latin roots.

I bought the book a day before I started hearing and reading about the uproar. I debated whether or not to read it. But I forged ahead for two reasons — one, a friend asked me if I hadn’t heard about the bad press, would I have read it (yes) and two, if I scrupulously vetted every book I read before I read it, I’d never get to actually reading a book.

I’m going to set the controversy aside for a moment to tell you what I think about the story itself. Then I’ll circle back. Because it should be talked about.

You can read the entire review here.

A Story of Bloody Abomination

Haven Theatre brings to the Roman stage, the bloodiest play written by William Shakespeare, ‘Titus Andronicus,’ a story filled with violence, murder, revenge, politics, class, culture, and gender. The Romans, who were the mortal enemies of the Goths, battled against Titus Andronicus, a Roman general, and his army. He returns from ten years of war, with only four out of twenty-five sons left. He has captured Tamora, Queen of the Goths, her three sons, and Aaron the Moor. In obedience to Roman rituals, he sacrifices her eldest son to his dead sons, which earns him Tamora’s unending hatred and her promise of revenge.

As we walked into the theater at Haven, one of the ushers told us that the play runs three hours, after marinating on the lengthy time, and getting settled into our front row seats. I (Brenda) overheard the lady sitting two seats away, ‘I hope we don’t get splattered with any blood.’ My first reaction was as big as this space is, I hope not, so I immediately turned my focused on the Afro-futuristic storyteller and dancer sitting on the stage looking out at the audience.

After everyone settled in, he started doing a tribal dance, which led to an intense choreographed ballet of war between the two opposing rivals who battled it out with blades and ruthless power. This battle dance was a prelude to what happened before the homecoming of Titus Andronicus (Colin Jones), the general of the Roman army, and his warriors from their triumph over the Goths.

As a reward to the gods, they get to choose a Goth to be sacrificed, which happens to be the son of Tamora (Michaela Petro). She pleads for his life; however, no mercy was granted. She seeks revenge after Titus with Aaron (Andrew Perez). So the blood bath begins of which includes hand chops, cannibalism, beheadings, rape, torture, and a tongue extraction, which was the making of a good night of Shakespearean horror on stage.

Artistic Director and Director Ian Damont Martin did a great job of diversification with a talented group of actors. He cast women to play male roles, Bassianus (Lakecia Harris), Chiron (Morgan Lavenstein), to play Tamora’s son. Titus’ brother/sister, Marcus, played by Gabrielle Lott-Rogers, she is referred to as Aunt Marcus in this play, in the original as uncle Marcus.

As he stated, “Often marginalized to the center of his work.” Martin then adds, “When a Black person embodies a text and world wherein characters say exactly what they think and feel, ultimately to harvest empathy and understanding – it’s a ripe and refreshing piece of catharsis.”

Colin Jones did a good job portraying the tragic hero of the play, The General of Rome and the father of Lavinia and Lucius. Tarina Bradshaw, as Lavinia, Titus’ only daughter, stayed graceful even after being brutally raped, mutilated, and tortured. Gregory D. Hicks, as Lucius, Titus only surviving son who becomes the Emperor of Rome. He was the only character that went through a substantial psychological transformation throughout the play, moving from bloodthirsty youth to sober leader.

The embodiment of Tamora, the Queen of Goth, mother of Chiron, and Demetrius, played by Michaela Petro, was quite entertaining to watch. Christopher Wayland, as Saturninus (the Emperor), the eldest son of the late Emperor of Rome, who Titus successfully advocated for him to be the new Emperor was hilarious.

The design element created by Sydney Lynne Thomas and lighting by Adrienne Miikelle was dreadful (light-toned wood in beige) for Roman times, given the grandeur space in which they were given we expected more of a lavish set. The costumes done by Lily Walls were not as elegant as you would expect for those times, and we were a little confused about what era this took place, especially when we saw gym shoes on one of the Goths and a push broom. The synchronized ballet dance by R&D Choreography was done very well.

Titus Andronicus was a little too long (three hours), and it dragged in some parts. Nonetheless, some of the performances were good, and we didn’t get any blood on us.

Let’s Play ‘Somewhat Recommend’ that you check out Titus Andronicus, the revenge tragedy by William Shakespeare.

Haven Presents
Titus Andronicus
By William Shakespeare
Directed by Artistic Director Ian Damont Martin
February 13 – March 14, 2020, at The Den Theatre

The Riveting Uncomfortable Truth

The fabric of our society as African Americans have not been woven together in America’s institution of being created equally. Due to the inequality of being treated unfairly and unjustly. The systematic nature of violence that has embedded blacks in this country has a long lineage of hatred, which is steadily increasing within the numbers of death against blacks. And yes, black on black crime is a troubling issue in America, no matter how you look at it or what institutionalized reasons have caused these killings, it has to stop. With this said, are blacks indiscriminately killed, or are there being targeted systematically?

In response to the Charleston shootings and the growing epidemic of police shootings of people of color, Timeline Theatre presents a story that is bold and conceptual and demands the audience to witness the plight of the black man in America. Kill Move Paradise pushes the envelope and forces white Americans to come into the light of racism and deal with it.

What seems to go unreported on US media outlets is the alarming statistics of white on white crime. Fellow Caucasians killed 2011, the most recent year for which data is available, a staggering 83 percent of white murder victims. And even though there are more Caucasians in the United States, 2016 FBI statistics show that white on white crime was equal to or higher than black on black crime.

Criminologist Richard Rosenfeld, a lead author of the NIJ paper at the University of Missouri–St Louis, states that white people both are murdering and getting murdered at strikingly increasing rates as well.

On June 17, 2015, a white supremacist took the lives of nine black parishioners as they attended Bible study at one of the oldest and largest Black congregations in the nation. The Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina.

1 in 1,000 black men and boys in the United States will die at the hands of a police officer. Police enforcement is 1.6% of all deaths of Black men between the ages of 20 and 24. They are killing people of color (Blacks, Latino, and Native American) men, women, and children at an alarming rate higher than their white peers. The deaths have become a day to day reality that people of color face within this country.

Inspired by the ever-growing list of murdered and unarmed black men and women, one of Philadelphia’s most prolific and dynamic playwright James Ijames, known as the “Messy writer” who strives for excellence, gives us a new play “Kill Move Paradise.”

This production is a story that is rich in poetic dialogue and where Ijames, wants its audience to see characters that paint a portrait of the slain, where four young black men without warning are ripped from the world, only to become stuck in the afterlife of purgatory. The men try to find peace and balance within their new state of being.

Timeline metamorphoses the stage into a black and white hazardous slope with a portal at the top, which is the way station between life and death where the characters come plummeting onto the stage. Although the set is minimalist, Ryan Emens (scenic designer) and Jason Lynch (lighting Designer) created the ramp so that Ijames gladiator arena can keep the audience focused on the performance and the text.

Being ripped from their lives, the four men express their rage as they debate and dialogue, trying to reconcile their fate. Uncovering the scars that they have endured living in a racist country, they try to reconcile the seemingly endless racial injustice in America.

The opening scene with Isa (Kai A. Ealy), the first arrival, is disoriented but resolved to understand his surroundings. With a printer rattling off names of soon-to-be entrants, he can see the audience around him but contemplates why. Soon after, a dazed and confused Grif (Cage Sebastian Pierre) tumbles through seeking answers to why he is has fallen into this new darken paradise.

Daz (Charles Andrew Gardner) is the third man to arrive, but his entrance was through a magical pathway. As the door opens to bring him to his new resting place, he’s irate wondering how did he land into the twilight zone. In an odd twist, he brought a lawn chair and commenced to tell them about all of the items stored inside from the latest widescreen television to the legendary blues singer Bessie Smith remains.

The last to arrive is Tiny (Trent Davis); he is the youngest. At first, his reaction is typical until he tries to go home, remembering what his mother told him about not interacting with people he didn’t know. He tries to leave by repeatedly running up the steep slope. Being unsuccessful, he finally gives up, exhausted, and struggling to breathe.

Like each before him, Tiny shares a story about how they arrived. Carrying a toy gun, he shares that he saw someone get shot, which Ijames alludes to the real-life shooting of 12-year-old Tamir Rice in Cleveland in 2014. He had a toy gun playing with his friends in the park when a police officer shot and killed him. In this gripping scene, Tiny recants how he felt when his soul was ripped from his heart and how the blood felt gushing from his body, as he tries to deal with his new reality.

A crumpled piece of paper is now on the set, and Isa reads what appears to be instructions to the guys to prepare them for their next journey. All of them have flashbacks about the moment their lives ended.

At different times, the characters observing the audience asks, “what are they doing?” Grif taunts and says they like to watch. The men break out in a smooth doo-wop song, choreographed by Breon Arzell, and perform the opening scene of The Bill Cosby show, which Tiny asks the audience, “Is this what you want,” and “what are you afraid of?” This metaphor is a direct reference from Ijames, playing to the views of the white audience of blacks.

Wardell Julius Clark is a director known to give us the unapologetic truth on the contrary views regarding blacks with a keen direction. He brings out the reality of the uncomfortable facts by breaking down the conceptualization of Ijames’s work. One scene that will cut you to the quick that cuts through the heart, mind, and soul of Black America are the reading of the names of senseless black murdered victims.

Names that are now forever embedded into a list of institutionalized violence are The Charleston Nine, (Tywanza Sanders, Susie Jackson, Cynthia Marie Graham Hurd, Ethel Lee Lance, DePayne Middleton-Doctor, Daniel Simmons, Sharonda Coleman Singleton, Myra Thompson, and Clementa C. Pinckney). Sandra Bland, Michael Brown, Trayvon Martin, Laquan McDonald, and Tamir Rice. These fatal shootings victims’ names included in the list of countless Black lives lost to the violent and oppressive system of white supremacists and police officers.

Clark puts together a very talented group of men. Trent Davis gave an unforgettable memorable performance as Tiny, Charles Andrew Gardner, as Daz was equally strong and Kai A. Ealy as Isa and Cage Sebastian Pierre as Grif rounded the ensemble with thought-provoking performances.

“Kill Move Paradise” is a challenging piece of work, and Ijames intends to show all sides of their humanity and identity as black men and boys in the theatre are gripping and riveting of the perils of being black living in white America. Chicago will be featuring another one of Ijames’s play called “White” at Steppenwolf Theatre in May 2020,

Let’s Play Recommends Kill Move Paradise but warns its audience that this in your face play will make some feel uncomfortable while others will be justly gratified that you can feel how they live every day.

TIMELINE THEATRE COMPANY
Kill Move Paradise
By James Ijames
Directed by Wardell Julius Clark
February 12 – April 5, 2020

So, fellow Cubs fans, was it worth it?

I remember writing a column back on October 30, 2016, an open letter to the Chicago Cubs. It started this way:

“Dear Cubs,

I know you’re busy. I’m guessing you’ve got several things going on today as you prepare for the fifth game of the World Series. Of course, I know you’re down 3 -1 to the Indians, and I know last night was tough. I watched your eyes as you saw it slipping away. I saw some of you start to lose your composure, swinging wildly, making out-of-character throws. I saw your manager trying to figure out what lever to pull, while pulling pitcher after pitcher out of the game. I saw the fans, stunned, quiet, some crying.

Yes, I saw it all.

But even with all that, I want you to know something.

That I’m proud of you. And I’m thankful for everything you’ve given us this year. Oh, yeah, and one other thing.

You can still win this.”

The column went on, but you get the picture. As a life-long Cubs fan, someone who’d sat through many “next years,” that team had made a real difference in my life.

Now, of course, any Chicagoan and probably anyone around the world, including those steadfast researchers in Antarctica, can tell you what came next. The Cubs ended up winning three straight games, including the seventh game of the World Series after the most famous rain delay in sports.

Then came the party.

And the party after the party.

And the buses filled with Cubs players and the Championship trophy.

And Grant Park.

And the hoisting of new flags above Wrigley Field.

108 years.

And it was glorious.

But, man, has the hangover been rough.

I mean, seriously, doesn’t it feel like every season since that season has been worse? With starting pitchers trying to make it into the fifth and oh-so-blown ninth inning leads. And free agents being signed who look like they should have actually been free or at least on clearance. And base-running mistakes and errors and realizing that, if we had runners on and there were two outs, then there might as well have been three. And many of our superstars going a little dim, while David Ross tried dancing with some other stars. And injuries. And Zobrist, though, of course, that was hard and personal stuff.

Speaking of stuff, how about those Joe Ricketts emails, and Maddon ─ a favorite of mine notwithstanding some bizarre playoff bullpen moves and not taking accountability for almost blowing the World Series ─ turning from slogan maker to the uncle who’s just waking up from a nap? And watching like sad children as the Cubs and WGN divided up the books and dishes during their divorce, and Bryant’s seemingly decade-long arbitration hearing and trade rumors, to then hearing that the most exciting player to happen to the Cubs in a while, Nick Castellanos, will now be seeing Red.

From trying not to suck to actually sucking.

Now, I don’t mean to be a downer.

And, I’m definitely grateful.

But I still wanted to ask.

Was it worth it?

All this gunk after ─ balanced against that one World Series win.

Just like 1987, 88, 89, etc., for the Bears after their Super Bowl win, then Trestman and Fox and “telegenic Cody” after the final clang echoed.

Was it worth it?

In my eyes, after giving it careful consideration, after assessing all the variables, after measuring all the angles, and evaluating all the evaluatables, I only have one thing to say.

I remember watching that last out in 2016.

I wasn’t sitting on the couch anymore. I was standing. Close to the TV, as if my presence could somehow help them win, as I were there, on the field.

The grounder hit by the Cleveland Indian’s Michael Martinez off Mike Montgomery. It went right to Kris Bryant.

But, still, catastrophe loomed. After all, as mentioned earlier in our story, it had just rained. Briefly but hard, a storm that tracked right over Progressive Field, and would start up again later and last all through the night. A storm that brought Jason Heyward the moment that erased his countless flailing strikeouts.

A rain that meant the grass was slick. A perfect “Cubby re-occurrence.”

I tensed as Bryant got the ball and went to make the throw ─ and almost slipped.

Almost.

Then relief. And joy. And a level of emotion I never expected. After all, it was just baseball, wasn’t it?

No, it wasn’t.

It was more.

It was thinking about my Mom and Dad who loved the Cubs – when they were here.

It was hugging and kissing my wife, Gina, knowing we were sharing an unforgettable moment.

It was talking to our kids and other family members on the phone right after.

Yes, as they say in the movies, after Rizzo safely caught the ball from Bryant, tucked it in his back pocket and raised his arms in victory while running towards the others, everything was a blur.

A long and glorious blur of people waiting in line to buy championship T-shirts, and flying Cubs flags on cars, and everyone walking around with that crazy crooked smile. Oh yeah, and lots of jokes about how close Spielberg got it with “Back to the Future, Part II.”

So, after all that, was it worth it?

The long hangover afterwards.

All the things since.

Was it?

Damn straight.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Contact me at [email protected]. And listen to my podcast.

Comments Note: All comments are reviewed. Any that are considered to be a personal attack or hate speech will be removed. In my blog, I always try to be respectful. I expect the same from my readers, both in responses to me, and about or to each other. And, again, thank you for reading.

Copyright 2001-2020, James R. Warda. All rights reserved.