Walter J Ong. Interfaces of the Word. Cornell University Press, 1977
Some people tell me they don’t have a specific reader or readers in mind when they write. Perhaps somebody writing a novel needs to be immersed in their imaginary world, undistracted by thinking about potential readers. But in my own (non-fiction) writing, I find that thinking of specific readers changes not just what I write but my whole motivation to develop and express my thoughts in writing.
This summer I noticed I lost momentum fairly quickly when trying to start a journal about life in France for an unspecified readership. I suspect I might do better simply to write some long letters (probably but not necessarily via email) to the friends who have expressed an interest in what I have to say. Even then, I will have to imagine what might interest or amuse them – as Walter J Ong put it: “Even in writing to a close friend I have to fictionalize a mood for him...” (Ong, 2002b, p.101)
This morning I was composing a longish email to another friend. Our ongoing exchange is about the development of music (and writing) in human evolution. I noticed how, knowing he is knowledgeable and curious about the subject, I felt encouraged to write in some depth.
Something he had said in a radio programme had struck me: as long as humans only had biological memory to rely on, i.e. before the introduction of musical notation, melody was crucial. I echoed his point in my email, saying how important stories were when we only had biological memory, i.e. before the introduction of writing.
Now the autumn is approaching, I have a further set of imagined readers: undergraduate students. A friend working at Brighton University has asked me if I would be interested in speaking to her law students about writing.
Her request inspired me to imagine writing a book tailored to student readers. That immediately got me asking myself what aspects of writing would interest undergraduates. My personal preoccupation with narrative writing may be too specialised for them. What they need, most likely, is help in finding the right structure for their essays. And in making good sentences.
A stimulating phone call with a member of the teaching staff gave me further clues about the students' needs. And I will have a chance to meet them as a group fairly soon by sitting in on one of their sessions. Even so, as I sit in my study designing my seminar on writing, my audience will remain in my imagination. Similarly, if I later decide to publish a book on writing for students, I will have to imagine my readers as I write.
This morning, my husband, who has been working on an article for an academic journal, confirmed how hard he finds it to write when his readership feels vague. In his words, it’s a bit like walking around in the dark. As you write, you can only imagine who is out there and how they might respond.
After all, writing is so different from conversation. To quote Ong one more time: “Spoken utterance is addressed by a real, living person to another real, living person or real, living persons, at a specific time in a real setting which includes always much more than mere words.” (Ong, 2002b, p.100)
I love conversation for all those reasons. But on the whole I prefer to be solitary while writing. My readers are with me in my imagination and, in that sense, as a writer I am never alone.
Related reading and listening
Walter J Ong (2002a). The Writer’s Audience is Always a Fiction, in An Ong Reader: challenges for further inquiry, New Jersey, Hampton Press.
Walter J Ong (2002b). Orality and Literacy. London and New York: Routledge.
Probes. Radio programme by Chris Cutler on the collapse of tonality in the 20th century.