Wednesday April 22, 2009
Random targets
Ralph Milton and I were having lunch at a table that looked across the practice putting green for a local golf course. The practice green, I should explain, had at least six possible holes for golfers to aim at.
One man placed five balls in the longer grass beyond the edge of the green. Using an iron, he methodically chipped all five onto the green.
We watched as the balls rolled past one hole, past a second hole, and finally stopped between a third and fourth hole.
“How do we know which hole he was aiming at?” I wondered.
“Whichever hole his ball drops into, of course,” replied Ralph.
We laughed.
“Which is pretty much the way we write,” Ralph added thoughtfully.
Writing styles
I recalled that incident the next day, when another friend asked how I come up with ideas for these columns. “Do you have a checklist of topics you plan to write about?” he asked.
Sometimes I do. Sometimes an issue demands my attention. I can\’t get it out of my mind until I deal with it.
But more often, there\’s a story that insists on being told. I don\’t know where it\’s going to take me. So I start telling it, and see where we go together.
In a sense, I see what hole the ball eventually drops into, for a reader.
Let me digress a little – like going around a water hazard instead of trying to walk across water. At one time in my freelancing days, I was editing seven different newsletters, mostly for charitable or religious organizations. That meant gathering stories from a vast variety of well-meaning contributors. Some wrote brilliantly; some wrote poorly; some obviously hated writing and wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.
If those writers shared a common fault, it was this – they saw the text mainly as a means of making a point. So their last line would be, “How blessed we were to have this opportunity to serve!” Or, “We all owe a great debt of gratitude to….” Or, “Thank God who redeemed us from our sins through the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
They could not, or would not, let the story convey its own message. They had to tack on a moral, to make sure we got their intended point.
Moral punchlines To receive this column regularly via e-mail, send a request to [email protected]. E-mail subscribers also get excerpts from correspondence about these columns. Please forward a copy of this column to anyone who might be interested in subscribing.
If you want to order my books, you can call 1-800-663-2775 in Canada, 1-800-328-0200 in the U.S., or order them on-line at the Wood Lake Books website.
For a lighter look at ethics, faith, and life, I recommend Ralph Milton\’s weekly e-newsletter Rumors. You can subscribe to it at the Wood Lake Books home page in Ralph Milton\’s Site, or by sending a note directly to [email protected].
It\’s also worth pursuing Charlene Fairchild\’s United Online site. Another site worth visiting is David Keating\’s \”SeemslikeGod\” page.
Which, inevitably, reminds me of an old story about a boy who came home from Sunday school. “We had a new teacher today,” he announced happily.
“Oh?” asked his mother. “What was she like?”
“I really liked her,” said the boy. “She has no morals at all!”
It took some maternal probing to discover that the previous teacher ended every story the same way: “And the moral of this story is…”
Tacking on a moral lesson bored that Sunday school student. My experience suggests that it turns off most adults too.
It tells them that there is only one possible hole for that ball to drop into. Anything else must be wrong.
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Copyright © 2009 by Jim Taylor. Non-profit use in congregations and study groups permitted; all other rights reserved.
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PROMOTION PLUGS