6 | The Writer • October 2019
questions and listen. We’re all playing
Tag, and I’m It.
Sometimes my recent past roars
back, demanding attention to the aneu-
rysm story. IGM has delivered clever
phrasings for aspects of that out-of-body
experience. “Hovering high above yel-
low waving cornfields, three states north
of home” was one. Another borders on
the TMI: “Nurse Ratched flipped me
over for yet another painful insertion.”
These are tough messages to hear while
walking. Too much of this story remains
raw. It will be told, however, because this
machine won’t let me forget.
IGM visits about four times a week.
At its cue, I tap either the Siri button or
the Dragon Dictation app on my
phone and start narrating what I’ve
heard. I prefer the former because the
voice-to-text conversion works better
with my talking style. I never slow
down, instead walking and staying
focused on the sidewalk immediately
in front of me. The rhythm and pace of
my steps feed the messages in a process
I’ve yet to understand.
I also ignore the content of the
message. It’s akin to a first draft story.
Rough. Ugly. Lay it down anyway.
Capture the words. Activate secretarial
skills. No time for judgment, revisions,
or second-guessing. This is ore, not
gold bars.
After completing the dictation, I
forward the message(s) to my studio
computer. Immediately. On most
walks, one IGM incoming means more
is on the way. Some walks, I’ve sent six
Siri messages.
When I arrive home after 4 miles on
the trail, my life feels richer, more com-
plete. Physical work is done, and the
mental efforts are warmed up. I shower
and change, then walk again – this time
to my office, ready to transcribe what
awaits, my first writing work of the day.
Another writing day begins, and
I’ve yet to step into my studio.
I’ve missed some daily walks. RealLife intrudes sometimes. I pay a price
both ways. When I miss, IGM returns
slowly. A temper tantrum? In missing
her, I return to the sidewalk faster.
Other tips: I walk alone. No ear-
buds. Ever. And no pets.
Finally – relax. Ideas come when
you’re not looking or craving them.
I craved healing and recovery, not
stories or words. Once I relaxed about
storytelling, two words left my vocabu-
lary forever: “blocked” and “stuck.”
When you walk, look, and listen,
the fountain of ideas floods.
I don’t recommend how I got here.
Four brain surgeries disrupt more
than a writing life. But my story is not
about that. It’s about this – learning
how to observe, listen, and capture
writing ideas.
Writing, like life, is how you walk it.
—Melanie Ormand crafts fiction and nonfiction in
novel, blog, and essay form from her Houston
studio. Find her at melanieormand.com and
roadbroads.com.ASK THE WRITERWhat’s the Oxford comma?
This comma goes by many names, including the serial
comma and the Harvard comma, and is an issue of quite
a bit of anxiety for some. (For the purposes of this
response, I’ll call it the serial comma.) It’s the comma
that comes before the final item in a list of three or more:
I packed a deck of cards, pretzels, and three novels.
See that comma before “and” toward the end of the
sentence? That’s the serial comma. And why so much
debate? As long as the sentence is clear, you can use it
or not use it at your discretion. As always, there are
notable exceptions. If you’re following a style guide,
look up the particulars. Chicago Manual of Style advo-
cates for its use, while AP Stylebook recommends skip-
ping it if the sentence is clear.
This issue of clarity is where things get sticky. In the
example sentence above, the sentence is clear without
the serial comma. But this next sentence changesmeaning depending upon the absence or presence of
the serial comma:
I mailed the invitations to my friends, the mail car-
rier, and the fire chief.
With the serial comma, there are more than three
invitations going out: one to each friend, the mail carrier,
and the fire chief. Without the comma, it reads like this:
I mailed the invitations to my friends, the mail car-
rier and the fire chief.
That makes just two invitations: one to the friend
who is a mail carrier and the other to the friend who is
a fire chief.
Take your stance on the serial comma and be consis-
tent with it, while at the same time keeping tabs on
clarity.
—Brandi Reissenweber teaches fiction writing and reading fiction at
Gotham Writers Workshop.