Teaching

Stories for now and eternity

By Jacqui Banaszynski in Blog, Journalism, Reading, Teaching, Writing

I’ve been too long absent from this place, waiting for the two things I tell my writing students never to wait for: Time and the Muse.

Time remains elusive. But the Muse visited today, demanding attention in the form of the wonderful Brain Pickings, which is one of the rare reasons to wade through the rest of the internet swamp (and yes, I subscribe). Today’s offering excerpted a lecture by Neil Gaiman. (And above quote is attributed to him.)

I am abashed to admit I wasn’t onto Gaiman until a few months ago. He’s a short fiction and graphic novel guy, and somehow escaped my notice. Now, true to the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon, aka selective attention, I stumble across him frequently. Thank the story gods for that.

I could pull countless snippets from Gaiman’s lecture, which he apparently spent more than two years writing. (If true, I’m grateful to him for that. Makes me feel less sluggy and stupid.) And Gaiman’s comments are, at heart, about fiction – the stories that come from our human hearts, emotions and imaginations.

But his wisdom applies just as well to my world of literary nonfiction.

Clarity as elegance

By Jacqui Banaszynski in Blog, Books, Editing, Journalism, Students, Teaching, Writing

William Zinsser died today. He was 92, so no great shock, I guess. And his legacy lives on in books, articles and even blogs, so we can’t even say he’s really gone.

Even so, as soon as I stumbled across the news via FB, I hunted through my Seattle bookshelves trying to find my tattered, old-style paperback of “On Writing Well.” Not there. It must be in my office at Mizzou. I hate not finding books when and where I want them. I’m tempted to order an updated version from Amazon, despite my ambivalence about that big-footed behemoth and my links here to the same. It could be in my hands tomorrow, and I could sink into my red leather reading chair to immerse into Zinsser’s wisdom – wisdom he set down so clearly and that I seem to forget every time I write.

No sense in the senseless, but a necessary job

By Jacqui Banaszynski in Blog, Interviewing, Journalism, Reporting, Students, Teaching

The verdict in the Boston Marathon Bombing was rendered today.

I wonder why we put such events in capital letters. Does it help us learn from them? Or does it just amplify their awful glory? (If I were still a reporter, I’d explore that question.)

I wonder if a jury verdict really resolves anything, for anyone – the accused, the victims, the aggrieved. Does it provide what modern society calls “closure?” Does it mete out whatever it is we think of as justice? Or is it more about revenge? (I’d explore those questions, too, without any expectation of a definitive answer, but hoping the questions would prompt deeper thinking, and maybe better answers for the future. I hold on to a shred of idealism that way.)

But tonight I’m thinking of the late Monday afternoon almost two years ago, just a few hours after the bombings. I was rushing to my writing class at the Missouri School of Journalism. A young man followed – chased – me down the hall.

Dog-eared discoveries

By Jacqui Banaszynski in Blog, Books, Reading, Teaching, Writing Tags: Books, Reading, teaching, writing

My reverence for books does not keep me from underlining passages, scribbling margin notes or, gulp, dog-earing the page corners. Every time I think I need to clear out some of my overburdened bookshelves, I see those blunted page corners and realize there is yet another treasure trove I have stored but not mined.

So… as part of this BackStory journey, I’ve given myself a goal that is doable and delightfully distracting: Grab a book at random, open it to whatever page is scored, and share the find. Not sure what it will add up to, if anything. Maybe just a way for me to archive the gems, unbend the corners and, bigger gulp, pass on the books.

What postcards can teach writers

By Jacqui Banaszynski in Blog, Journalism, Reporting, Students, Teaching, Writing

A friend sent this Washington Post story today about the dwindling popularity of postcards. Just one more tradition being disrupted, eclipsed, overrun ~ pick your victor verb ~ by digital convenience and social media ubiquity.

I note it here because postcards have always held a special place in my life. If I were a collector, postcards would be high on my list. Not for the initial image, but for the act of sending and receiving, and the magic of storytelling involved in that action.

When I send students off into the world or reporters on assignment, the one thing I ask is that they send me a postcard. I’m always delighted when one actually arrives. I love seeing the images they choose, being introduced to their handwriting (a rare thing these days) and being enchanted by the mini-story they’ve chosen to tell me.

Because that’s another huge value of postcards. They are the perfect venue for practicing the craft ~ and purpose ~ of storytelling.

Trekkie Ethics, with a Vulcan hand salute

By Jacqui Banaszynski in Blog, Interviewing, Journalism, Reporting, Teaching Tags: journalism, Journalism Ethics, Star Trek

Today, I raise a Vulcan hand salute to Leonard Nimoy. To the unparalleled character he developed as Star Trek’s Mr. Spock, and to the even more creative man who played that, and other, roles, on screen and off. In tribute, and without apology, I offer a touchstone: “Trekkie Ethics.” It might not pass muster with the more serious scholars of either journalism or ethics, but it leans on their wisdom, and has served me well. – in work and in life.

Lessons from the back of the sled

By Jacqui Banaszynski in Blog, Journalism, Reporting, Students, Teaching

Out of my inbox…

Brendan Meyer came into my orbit his last year at Mizzou. Charming. Creative. Cocky. And a bit caught up in the notion of where he wanted to be instead of the steps along the road to getting there.

He graduated from the J-school last year with limitless ambitions and dreams (ESPN! Sports Illustrated!), limited experience and limited traction. But he took butt-kicking pretty well, from me and others at the School of J.

It seems his tires have caught — that traction thing — and, in the parlance of where he is now, he is finding the cattle beneath his hat.

Out of my inbox

By Jacqui Banaszynski in Blog, Editing, Interviewing, Journalism, Reporting, Students, Teaching, Writing Tags: editing, journalism, Missouri School of Journalism, teaching, writing

I cringe when I think of the practical wisdom buried in years of disorganized and deleted email exchanges.

I’ll send up a flare when I’m struggling with a deadline project and get quick help back from some generous soul who knows stuff I don’t. That’s a whole lot of souls.

Or I’ll get a ping from a student, journalist or first-time Thanksgiving dinner cook desperate for some career or craft counsel. The pleas pile up my inbox. I scan, reply best I can, hit SEND – then move on. As Jed Bartlett would say, “What’s next?”

Incoming, Outgoing. And over time, a trove of lost treasure.

Simple brilliance, and folding panties

By Jacqui Banaszynski in Blog, Students, Teaching, Writing

I spent way too much time fretting about my “teaching philosophy,” which I finally had to file with the University of Missouri after 15 years of teaching here, and which you can read about in my previous post. The actual writing of it was a chore, as writing can be. Thinking about it brought joy because it allowed me to think about the amazing teachers, of all stripes, I’ve had in my life.

And, as these things tend to do, it raised my radar for related things. Like this tribute by John Dickerson, published in Slate, to his 10th grade English teacher, Neal Tonken.

Learning to teach, teaching to learn

By Jacqui Banaszynski in Blog, Journalism, Reporting, Students, Teaching, Writing Tags: Missouri School of Journalism, students, teaching, Writing Process

The University (in the capital-U sense) wants my “teaching philosophy.” Reasons for that request are happy, which isn’t always the case with a cap-U request. But happy doesn’t get the work done. So…

First: Thank God and Whoever Else had more important things to attend to while I taught at Missouri for 15 years without figuring that bit out.

Second: Even greater thanks, with apologies, to the students on the receiving end of me figuring it out as I go. And a deep bow to the Missouri Method – learn by doing – which doesn’t end with students.

Third: I have to write something. Cue anxiety, procrastination, much abuse of the F-word, coffee and wine.

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