* Did you notice the in-class writing assignment cleverly embedded in the headline? Details are at the bottom of the post, in boldface type.
There's an interesting interview with a New Yorker copyeditor on literary agent Andy Ross' blog. Dated Sept. 20, 2009, it features Mary Norris, whom we know as the author of a piece on punctuation I posted to our blog a couple of weeks ago, and it's full of little random glimpses of the sense of craftsmanship The New Yorker is famous for.
The one I liked best was a little throw-away remark at the end of a long reminiscence about working under the New Yorker's editors from the 1980s to the present. It came at the very end, after a fascinating tangent on "hot type" (i.e. type that was cast in hot metal instead of the photoengraving processes used now). So you should read the whole thing to get to it:
Andy: You have worked under [editors] William Shawn, Robert Gottlieb, Tina Brown, and David Remnick. Do you have a sense that there was a "golden age" of TNY or are we living in it now?There you have it: A good writer can make you care about anything. Even the nit-picky craft agenda of a copyeditor for The New Yorker.Mary: Hmmm. Sometimes when I have occasion to look back at an issue from the Shawn days, I am moved by the beauty of those vintage magazines: the lines of type were fitted character by character, the hot type is very alive, the black-and-white columns of print have a classic purity. Bob Gottlieb was careful to maintain that, though he introduced some changes. Tina Brown brought in color and photography, and shortened the length of pieces (and probably the attention span of the general reader). I think that what David Remnick has done is bring his newsman’s nose to the job. Remnick has succeeded in making The New Yorker a vital part of the national conversation. We seem to have found our voice after 9/11.
On the other hand, you find fewer quirky pieces that may not be particularly newsworthy but that readers love. For instance, “Uncle Tungsten,” by Oliver Sacks. (I still regret making him spell “sulfur” our way, with the “f,” when he wanted to spell it the old-fashioned British way, “sulphur,” which he’d grown up with.) Ian Frazier’s two-part piece on his travels in Siberia is a good recent example of a beautiful, funny, interesting, old-fashioned piece of writing. A good writer can make you care about anything.
That's my favorite. What's yours?
Craftsmanship is part and parcel of the New Yorker's brand, and Norris is all about craftsmanship. Merriam-Webster defines a craftsman as: "1 : a worker who practices a trade or handicraft; or 2 : one who creates or performs with skill or dexterity especially in the manual arts." What's your definition of craftsmanship? What's the difference between a craftsman and an artist? Do you consider yourself a craftsman? How important do you expect craftsmanship to be in your career as a writer, editor or communications professional?
Did you learn anything about craftsmanship in COMM 353? From working on Bulldog Bytes? From reading the how-to advice from Carol Saller and Nancy Brigham? From reading about Harold Ross and The New Yorker? How craftsmanslike was James Thurber? In your opinion, was he more of an artist or a craftsman? Did you pick up anything you can take away with you? (Or is that the same as the first question?) Can publications today be as careful as The New Yorker? Can you?
Please post your thoughts as comments below.
4 comments:
When I think of writing as a craft, it brings me back to the good old days of scribes using a quill and inkwell to write on parchment (and vellum if they ever got their hands on it). Unfortunately, my handwriting is so poor that the ink would splatter all over the parchment and it would be unreadable.
Is it still a craft today? Absolutely. Anyone who works for whatever their profession is, is a craftsman. Once that craft becomes appreciated by an outside audience, it becomes an art.
Even though I have poor handwriting, my typing skills and my keen eye for errors gives me a nice craft in writing and editing (the editing part specifically from COMM 353). When I put my skills to use as assistant editor of Bulldog Bytes, it gave me some hope that I could use this skill outside of college as a copy-editor, as well as reading the advice of Carol Saller. I don't know if I would be quite married to the job as Ross was, but I hope to be as creative as Thurber (though he was more of an artist than a craftsman based on how well his illustrative career was).
Publications today can be as careful as the New Yorker was if they proofread or hire copy-editors. It would certainly help in the world of online news, where aricles are prevelent in typos. I know I can if I allow myself the time to edit my first draft (though I don't always give myself that privilege). I do consider myself a craftsman, though I don't think I'm an artist yet.
Craftsmanship and writing are a synthesis. They are the same thing. You do one and the other one follows. And when you do the other one, the previous one follows. I think Saller, Thurber, and Brigham are all craftsman in their own right. Salller in editing, Thurber in art and editing the art pieces, and Brigham on forming a cooperative environment for editing which in its essence is a form of artistic craft.
I think before you take anything with you, you need an appreciation for the importance of syntax and grammar. Without an initial care then the craft will not follow. I care passionately about the things I write about. As I write them, I find myself editing and “crafting” them. The process is natural and organic.
After reading the interview with Mary Norris, I’m not sure other publications can match the New Yorker, but they can surely compete. The New Yorker has mastered the craft. Mary Norris’s perspective is so unique and concise, it’s no wonder the New Yorker gets the best, and it’s also the place that the best flock to. Again, we see the dialectical synthesis come full circle. Her “craft” really gets to the heart of the matter. Yes a good writer can make you care about anything, but so can a good editor. If an editor is truly passionate about whether or not to spell a word with the modern form or the antiquated form, then that amount of passion will be reciprocated by caring readers.
Craftsmanship is about development through trial and error, through practice. COMM 353 was another opportunity to ply our trade and practice our craft. The best way to learn, is to do, and that’s what we all done did. Did we learn anything about craftsmanship in COMM 353? Yes. We learned through our actions. We learned through our successes. And we learned through our failures. Art is a natural expression. Craft is practiced. Art can be practiced. Craft can be natural. They are the same, different, and everything in between.
My definition of Craftsmanship is someone that is skilled at his/her trade no matter what his trade may be. He/she might be better at something then others it’s what he is best at doing and what he shines in doing. I do not consider myself a craftsman when it comes to writing and editing that is not something I feel that I am very good in.
While doing Bulldog Bytes I fell that I have a better understanding of what it takes to make a magazine and doing all the editing. I didn’t take a huge part in the Bulldog Bytes but I feel that I have learned a lot more just by being a part of it in class.
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