Writing is a Deep Conversation

Originally published in the 10/29/2021 issue of the Transformational Times

 

 

Writing is a Deep Conversation

 

Adina Kalet, MD MPH

 

 

Dr. Kalet, who recently published the latest edition of her book, Remediation in Medical Education: A Mid-Course Correction, which she coedited with UCSF faculty member, Calvin Chou, MD, shares her feelings about the value of writing together with others, and why authorship is among the most complex and critical aspects of what we do. She proposes that, if we can do it well, solid writing opens important conversations and can be deeply satisfying …

 

 

If writing seems hard, it is because it is hard. It is one of the hardest things people do.

-William Zinsser, On Writing Well: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction

 

 

As an early-career physician and clinical educator, I felt none of the traditional “publish or perish” academic pressures because, for most of my working life, I had no particular desire to be promoted. So, you may ask, why do I spend so much of my time writing now? The answer to this has evolved. I write to work things out and begin dialogues, much as Joan Didion hinted when she said, “I write entirely to find out what I am thinking.” Once a concept or project has been committed to the page, I am better equipped to engage in conversations about the things that matter to me. 

 

 

I didn’t always love to write

 

Thanks to a few generous mentors, editors, and spell checkers, I now love to write. This was not predictable. Despite a good-enough elementary education, it never occurred to me that writing could be a deeply satisfying communal experience. Like most of us, I learned the rules of grammar, parts of speech, sentence, paragraph, and essay structure, and how to appropriately use quotations and citations to passively draw on the ideas of others. It was all done in a dry, uninteresting, and lonely way. It wasn’t until I discovered, through writing for publication, that one was entering into deep, complex, and important conversations with others, that I became willing and eager to do the hard work. And it is very hard work. But luckily, it is almost never a solo pursuit. 

 

As medical education scholar, Lorelei Lingard, asserts in her stupendous new book Story, Not Study: 30 Brief Lessons to Inspire Health Researchers as Writers (Springer International, 2021): 

 “Medical education moves forward because we share insights, question methods, argue the relevance of emerging ideas and build on one another’s efforts. All of this is possible in large part because of writing, and it explains why writing is such a highly valued currency ….”

Dr. Lingard has taught me through her “writing about writing” to think of the process as a way of entering critical conversations to clarify our thinking. We converse with those who came before us by reading the relevant literature, we converse with those with whom we work by writing together (not easy by any stretch of the imagination, more on that later), we converse or spar with editors and peer reviewers and, finally if we are lucky, we get to converse with our readers. It is a cacophony of conversations. 

Learning the value of writing with others rather than alone

 

One of my most beloved mentors, medical sociologist Jo Anne Earp, ScD, had a framed picture in her office which, literally, is how I really learned to write.  It is a line drawing of a young child on tippy toes, holding a bright red crayon, caught in the act of crossing out and rewriting the statement, “A good mentor accepts ,expects, respects a first draft.” Sitting in her office, struck dumb by the anxiety of having to write about my work, facing that picture, I truly understood for the first time that writing could be a collaborative process. I was paralyzed as I tried to start writing my very first 300-word abstract to submit to a professional meeting. Recognizing my predicament, Jo Anne took her pen and lined yellow pad in hand and asked, “What should we title this?”  I dictated; she wrote. We switched roles.  Sentence by sentence, we polished the words until we were done. It took one hour, an hour in which I learned the key to collaborative writing—what I now call “yoked pair” writing—a process that I use with my colleagues and mentees almost every day. Now, we sit in front of a computer screen and ask each other, “What do we think?” 

 

Writing is hard. No question. Yet now I see that writing can also be a highly valuable, satisfying, and fundamentally communal experience. Since I learned the value of writing collaboratively with others, my writing partners will tell you I am relentless in extoling its virtues. This is because I believe that writing together is the best way to think clearly and develop ideas. 

 

 

Now, I am an enthusiastic writing coach

 

I regularly share my inner writing nerd. On my shelf is a stack of slim books which I both read and give away. My favorites are the latest edition of Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style illustrated by Maira Kalman (I adore the Basset Hound on the cover), Stylish Academic Writing and The Writer’s Diet both by Helen Sword (where I first discovered that I was a “flabby” writer  - yikes!), the hilarious Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation! by Lynne Truss from whom I finally understood commas; How to Write a Sentence and How to Read One by Stanley Fish and, now, Lingard’s Story Not Study, which is an expansion of a series of papers she edited for the journal Perspectives in Medical Education entitled the “Writer’s Craft.” Of course, writers must also be readers and must have very good editors! 

 

 

Ode to our TT editorial team

 

This is my sixty-seventh Transformational Times Director’s Corner. Before March 2020, all the writing I had done had been as part of a team. I had never published an essay as a single author. When the newsletter was launched and I committed to writing a weekly column, Bruce Campbell became my editor. It requires great talent and generosity to craft someone else’s words. Bruce has done this for me almost every week for the past eighteen months as an act of kindness and compassion despite his surgical and clinic schedules, the publication of a book, and the responsibilities of a professor of otolaryngology at MCW. 

 

I experience his editing as I do an honest conversation with a close colleague.  What he does is the writing equivalent of “active listening.” By reading and rearranging my words, he is saying, “I hear you. Now let me restate that a bit and see if we can make it truer and clearer.”

 

This has been a profound learning experience. At the beginning, my drafts were “messier” and he had to push up his sleeves, often late at night, to find the wheat and eliminate the chaff. By rereading my words with his edits, I have learned how to write in this short essay format.  Originally, he did a heavy edit, rewriting sentences, reorganizing paragraphs and titling sections to hammer the piece into a readable form. Now he takes a lighter touch, refining the words, aligning the tenses, shortening the sentences, and very occasionally rearranging the paragraphs. We have learned to write together, and this has made all the difference.  

 

 

So, let’s get writing!

 

As the Kern Institute moves the mission to transform medical education forward, we must define, refine, and share our ideas. Writing and publishing are critical to this process. Consider writing as a team sport! I hope you enjoy this issue of the Transformational Times as we examine the highs and lows—and the nuts and bolts—of academic publishing. 

 

 

Adina Kalet, MD MPH is the Director of the Robert D. and Patricia E. Kern Institute for the Transformation of Medical Education and holder of the Stephen and Shelagh Roell Endowed Chair at the Medical College of Wisconsin.