Abstract

It is good form in English Department offices and corridors to grump, grouse, growl, even whine about how the is going. Such labor, such a dreary business, how grubby, how ridiculous to expect publication, as if an article could reveal the subtleties of a finely-tuned mind. The more you publish, the more tactful it is to moan and groan. The danger is that young colleagues, new to the academy, may believe us. They may think that we who publish are performing penance, obediently fulfilling a vow to publish out of fear of perishing, when this academic, and others, will slyly look around to see who is listening, then confess, writing is fun. The focus is on writing. That is where writers discover they know more than they knew they knew, where accidents of diction or syntax reveal meaning, where sentences run ahead to expose a thought. If the is done, publication-perhaps not this piece but the next or the one after that-will follow. And publishing promises a lifetime of exploration and learning, active memberhip in a scholarly community, and the opportunity for composition teachers to practice what we preach. I will share some of the methods that have helped me publish what some would say-and have said-is an excessive number of articles and books on composing processes. I do not do this to suggest that others should work as I work, but as a way to invite others who publish to reveal their own craft so those who join our profession can become productive members of it-and share the secret pleasure in which we feel but rarely admit.