atheism, sharing, and god

ok, i live and breath editing, so you'll have to pardon another ancillary mention of my work at the other journal (TOJ).

in my editing class, we've been getting the inside scoop on the publishing biz; this means chatting with acquisition editors and writing book proposals.

now several months ago, i thought it might be interesting to approach my boss's boss, the director of mental health at the seattle VA, about a book on his amazing discovery of prazosin, the nightmare-relieving pill for posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). murray's a funny guy, a great storyteller, and an important figure in the research community, so i figured that a book that walked a tightrope between biography, history, and timely political commentary could be entertaining from his perspective.

but then the miracle of calvin college happened. at the festival of faith and writing, an editor for one of the big christian publishers approached TOJ about the prospect of transforming our atheism issue into a book. the editor encouraged us to submit a book proposal and then he bounded back to his world of signed books.

as it happened, my assignment for a book proposal was due the next week, so i jettisoned the poor iraqi PTSD veterans--in fact, were i to properly edit this post, they'd have been wiped from the annals of the 17 point scale because i have nothing more to say about the dormant book idea; i suppose that it's relevant to the chronology but not to the story--and attempted to pull together a coherent thesis for the a TOJ atheism book.

here's what i determined: recent publications that write on atheism from a christian perspective tend to lapse into polemics. they exist solely as a response to richard dawkins, christopher hitchens, and company. in contrast, the content in the current issue of TOJ uses atheism as a starting point for more important discussions about what it means to be christians. how should a life of faith differ from a life without faith? what atheistic ideas challenge christians to live life better and more like christ? i was a bit surprised to find such a foundation, but i think it might work.

still, just now as i was relaxing on my couch and listening to my highest rated playlist, i couldn't help but get a little apologetical. and when i say "a little apologetical," i'm referring to the branch of apologetics that relies chiefly on easily disproved observations.

i was listening to "a friend i had" by aaron sprinkle, and i thought, gosh, this seems like such a perfect song. it was more a gut reaction than the result of a close analysis of the melodic complexity or the lyrical juxtapositions, but i was overpowered by a strong sense that everything was just right. so right, in fact, that i needed to tell someone. i needed to get the message out to as many people as possible. i needed to share.

i think that this silent urge to share beauty is everywhere in the world. it's in the thousand blogs that celebrate a quote or lyric in every post. it's in my atheism book proposal.

and what's not in my atheism book proposal is this simple proof: perhaps that beauty is truth and perhaps that truth--perhaps all truth--somehow leads to god and perhaps our innate need to share that truth is in some way reflected in the international movement known as the church.

after exchanging book proposals with an editing partner in my class, she remarked, andrew, you need to use more confident language. enough with the "may," "could", and "perhaps"--write with some authority.

ok, then.

you can poke holes in my theory or decry organized religion or dismiss church or laugh at ritual but isn't it true that there's something distinctly human about sharing beauty, and isn't that to some degree the purpose of church?

yes, it is so.

photograph: andrew david. "the shining." central park, nyc, ny.

good advice

i don't give advice much, but when i do it's really good:

at about 2:12am, i set down my laptop, walked from my bed to the stairs, and shouted to the roommate, "want some advice?"

he paused his dwarf-town-building video game long enough to grunt.

"when you start your new job next week, don't go get two more."

okay, now that i've almost finished the other journal submisson page, i'm going to bed.

the good news and the bad news

the good news
my soccer team won 4-1 last night! whoohooo!

in addition to my research editor position at the VA, i am now working as the creative writing editor for the other journal, an online quarterly that publishes essays, reviews, and creative writing that investigate theology, culture, and social justice.

and it gets even more exciting. for its ninth issue birthday, TOJ received a great big check from mars hill graduate school (not to be confused with ballard's mars hill church). this financial support is a sign that TOJ is growing, and with this growth in mind, the TOJ editors are making matters of style, punctuation, and writerly perfection a priority. therefore, becky (the former creative writing editor and new master copyeditor) and i get to establish (and enforce) a house style. this may sound daunting or even painful, but the creation of editorial guidelines is really a copyeditor's dream come true.

the bad news
you've probably noticed that the 17 point scale content has been scarce recently. well, get used to it. because of soccer and TOJ, i don't really have much spare time for blogging. i'll try and keep the numeric book and film ratings up-to-date, and i may occasionally post reviews (e.g., i have an in-progress review of cormac mccarthy's border trilogy that i hope to publish one day) or life updates, but don't expect many of my signature quirky reflections or picture captions.

someday the 17 point scale may return, but in the meantime, i won't be hurt if you stop visiting or change your homepage to some other blog.

send me an email (sparklinandrewivories@hotandrewmail.com but remove the andrews) or leave me a comment if you're interested in hearing directly about future incarnations of the 17 point scale.

-andrew


andrew david. "the setting point scale" ocean shores, wa.

faking the news

as many of you know, i work as an editor for the UW department of psychiatry. as the only editor in my department, i wear many different caps. one day i'm the copyeditor and the next day i'm rewriting an entire manuscript. in the morning i may find myself navigating the obscure nuances of the question mark and then return from lunch early to teach exasperated faculty to use endnote, the handy reference manager that makes citations a breeze. but apparently there wasn't quite enough variety to my day.

earlier this week i received a phone call. "we've found something for you to do during your down-time."

"oh?"

"we'd like you to create a newletter."

"oh."

after meeting separately with four MIRECC heads of state, i determined that they actually want me to develop three or four newsletters, each with a different audience and slightly different content. and get this: they envision me toting a tape recorder to work so i can interview the top brass for the lead stories. that's right, the newest incarnation of andrew the editor will be as reporter, writer, and designer. yikes! i'm not sure what i think of this; several adjectives have crossed my mind--interesting, cumbersome, challenging, harrowing--but the overwhelming thought is something like "what the crap do i know about newsletters?"

anyway, if you have any newsletter advice, feel free to leave me a comment.

because

i edit like a blind guy. i feel my way through a paragraph, listening to the sound of consonants, words, and ideas; the squawk of a renegade comma or miscreant phrase. i have a knack for this sort of thing. but a blind knack ain't always good enough. writers are notoriously protective of their work, and every so often they may challenge an edit. and when they do, it doesn't pay to say "oh, i play by ear--it just sounds better this way." therefore, i'm quickly learning to combine my instincts with science. i've become a bit of a grammar junkie. my drug of choice is fowler's modern english usage, but i've got all kinds dictionaries, websites, and stylebooks to keep me company.

thus, one day it came to pass that i was merrily editing a schizophrenia manuscript, when suddenly, out of nowhere, a because came flying onto the page. "what's this?" i asked. the because sat in the middle of the sentence, separated from the main clause by a big ghastly comma. as i moved to strike the comma, i wondered, "gosh, is there actually a reason to delete this comma?"

little did i know that such a simple question would lead to an avalanche of becauseness. indeed, if you scour the internet for because, you will probably find that i have compiled the most comprehensive online resource for this silly subordinating conjunction. because of its size, the because reference is being stored at the 17 point scale appendix. but to whet your interest, here's a table of contents:

I. because answers the questions why? and how?
II. because at the beginning of sentences
III. commas
IV. confusion with other words
A. because versus as and since
B. because versus for
C. because versus inasmuch as
D. because (of) versus due to
E. because (of) versus due to the fact that
V. the reason is … because (no!)
VI. because and negatives
VII. references

andrew david. "misplaced modifier" shekinah, saskatchewan.

the quiescent nerd myth

as many of you know, i spent the last 3 years working as a research coordinator for the COGS, a multi-site study of schizophrenia. then, earlier this summer, a research angel came to relieve me of my COGS protocols, scheduling duties, and crashing database. i was delighted. but although i expected ms. sara goodnow to do a dynamite job in my place, i never expected her to be such a valuable asset to the 17 point scale. indeed, it turns out that sara bowls a 120, heralds from rural new york, and is dating a doctoral engineering student. these attributes make her unequivocally qualified as an informant in my latest blogging pursuit, an autobiographical biography of the other andrew (or something like that).

the felicity of sara was revealed at an off-site lunch on an otherwise gray day. seeking respite from another slice of hospital pizza, sara and i tumbled from sean's honda prelude into a philly cheesesteak dive on airport way. we made our way to the counter and pondered the menu. behind the cash register, a woman fixed me with an icy stare--apparently this wasn't the city of brotherly love. i mumbled an order. she frowned and thrust her open palm toward me. scrambling for my wallet i promptly forgot whether i had ordered the medium or large. "goose-chicken," i thought, "i really would prefer the medium," but she was already taking sean's order. "yikes." if this wasn't philly, then where was the characteristic seattle friendliness?

afraid for my food, i swallowed my curiosity. things were getting grim. in retrospect, i suppose that meant we were ripe for a miracle. after all, we tend to notice the light when it's dark not in the daylight. when our sandwiches arrived, we discussed our evening plans. a momentary burn in my throat tore my attention from the conversation. hmmmmmm, horse radish. after a swig of water, i looked up to hear sara talking of engineers, "i don't know," she drawled, "they're just really quiet...maybe it's a brainy awkwardness...."

as sara's words trailed off, my mind snapped into blog mode. yes, i thought, whether they be english profs, computer geeks, or [fill in a random intellectual stereotype, e.g., engineers], brainiacs seem to lack the natural rhythms of everyday conversation. chatting with smart folks is a bit like my morning commute. you crawl sluggishly forward, hit an open stretch after the aurora bridge, take the harbor island exit into gridlock, and then escape into the steady streets of beacon hill. start, stop, start, stop. such conversations are intriguing yet strained.

and, until recently, i would have lumped the other andrew into this category. after all, i rarely watched him interact with others, and our conversations tended to hover in a state of friendly, well-meaning awkwardness. but in the last months, i've realized that this impression of andrew is more likely an indicator of how i respond to people that i perceive as brainy than a true picture of the other andrew. perhaps it's a bit of what sociologists like to call the self-fulfilling prophecy. i think, "wow, that person is wicked smart," and then begin to waiver in my conversational confidence. i flip the censorship switch and suddenly all of my questions, all of my odd quirky perspectives, all of my conversation kindling are deemed irrelevant; they are turned to an invisible mush. perhaps then my ineptitude makes smart person uncomfortable, and, somehow sensing that i expect them to be incapable of anything but dull nerd-speak, they too stall.

if this sounds crazy, consider the following evidence from our case study: (a) over the last few months i have learned that andrew is surprisingly quite gregarious; he laughs, he quips, he speaks thoughtfully; indeed, he seems perfectly comfortable in conversation; (b) actually, my first point has so convinced me that i don't feel the need to continue with this list.

so "where do we go from here? the words are coming out all weird. where are you now when i need you...?"



andrew david. "laughing at andrew's camera skills and blogging troubles" mount pilchuck, wa.
539 to go.

don't hold your breath

i hope post something soon, but it could be a few nights. i'm trying to finish a book blurb by thursday morning (errr, i haven't finished the book yet) and i may do some freelance fiction editing with a rush deadline of october 15th. in the meantime, does anyone have any suggestions of how much i should charge for copy editing? g--- w---- (editor of i----) recommended $35/hour and these websites seems to quote rather similar figures: http://www.writersmarket.com/content/howmuch8.asp; http://njcreatives.org/members_only/reference/how-much.htm; and http://ask.metafilter.com/mefi/45813.

andrew moves to robbins

in september of 2000, i joined jonathan, brady, and danny in a two-bedroom attempt at apartment life. like any self-sufficient city-dwellers, we cooked in our own kitchen, lounged in our own living room, and squatted on our own toilet. very adult of us, we thought. but despite our self-reliance, i've since decided that our apartment was the collegiate equivalent of a half-way house. in order to lessen the shock of independent life, the university furnished each apartment with a security blanket--well, really it was more a security rug than a blanket, and it sat in the entryway, a metaphysical appendage of our front door. indeed, it was the dorm doors of robbins that kept us insulated from darkness of the real world.

forgive me. i just finished thomas pynchon's the crying of lot 49, and i'm afraid that his wacky, nonsensical style has somehow seeped into my blog. let me offer (and then dismiss) a quick spu tutorial.

students at the college of queen anne often refer to their school as the spu bubble. they lament the university's cultural composition (primarily conservative caucasian girls) and urge one another to pop free of the campus confines and explore more diverse seattle haunts. while at spu, i worked across the lake at a market research center in bellevue, and because the phone-room at northwest research group (it's sad...i still remember the number: 1-800-545-5909) was a haven for cultural diversity (and crazies), i never felt too passionately about spu's lack of hetergeneity. still, when speaking vaguely of doors and their ability to separate one from the real world, i understand that most spu-affiliated readers (after shrugging their shoulders in bewilderment) might speculate that i am satirically referring to robbins as an academic hotel california. the doors hem you in; they are everywhere (everywhere!). you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave. or something like that.

they'd be wrong.

(note to self: don't employ this trick again--it's word-wasteful to spend so much time talking about what you don't mean).

(beth's note to myself: stop preluding)

during the past three years i've lived in a house and a pair of apartments. i've chatted with my neighbors about soccer, stolen cars, and Jesus "being some crazy, mixed up sh-t, man," but i've never peeked inside their homes, stared at their fish, or even considered stealing their milk. in robbins we were protected from the anonymity of this real world. the doors in robbins were always open, inviting us into communion.

and it was there that i finally met the other andrew....


andrew david. "jello 1 -- basi lays the trap" robbins, seattle, wa.
by the way, those are matts not andrews.

total robbins apartments (i.e., neighbors) that i entered unannounced: 6+
total post-spu apartments/houses (i.e., neighbors) that i have entered unannounced: 0

another excerpt of my writing...

hey, i just remembered another time that i was published online. as i began my freshman year at spu (1999), i discovered that the temp service for which i'd been working offered a small academic scholarship. cool, i thought, i'm a shoe-in. and that wasn't cockiness: my high school transcript was impressive, i met the employment criteria, and, from what i'd seen, the other temps tended to be esl workers or unemployed corporate types, not aspiring undergraduates. but then i skimmed the application's essay prompt and groaned: write some nonsense about how your time at nwstaffing (for you money-seekers, it appears that they now offer 4 scholarships) has prepared you for excellence. because i had an honest streak, i found it rather challenging to describe my days at the artificial crab packing plant, tire company, and fabric store as particularly inspiring, but somehow i managed to win the cash. the cute photo and this euphemistic quote appeared on their website:

"...Perhaps the biggest advantage to working through a service is this unique ability to test a variety of job scenarios. As an agent of NWStaffing, I have gained experience I would otherwise lack. Temporary work has served as a measuring stick with which to gauge my skills. Hidden talents such as interviewing complete strangers, evaluating customer service, data entry, coding, grunt work and other business-like tools have sprouted during my employment. In addition to learning my strengths, my time as a temp has also exposed me to areas that would not necessarily fit my interests. This is especially important as I begin to plan my college major and intended profession."

ha! thanks again, nwstaffing, for helping to suppliment about 0.25% of my tuition.

i need help

my boss is writing an editorial that advocates a return to etiology in psychiatric nosology. to some extent (at least an ittly-bitty one--can you say that about an extent? can you have a great BIG extent and then a little mouse fart extent?) that means that i am writing an editorial advocating a return to etiology in psychiatric nosology. fun stuff, eh? not necessarily: scientific writing in my department tends to be rather dry. but after performing a literature survey of psychiatric and genetic journals, i discovered that there's a lot more freedom with editorials. they often tend to be (or try to be) creative or humorous. so, i'm hoping to inject some creativity into debby's editorial. this may a worthless pursuit, but work's been slow, so i have some time on my hands. however, it's been sooooo long that i've done any creative academic writing that i've lost the ability to gauge my own ridiculousness. that is, i've crafted a few possible introduction paragraphs (rough drafts, of course), but i need help determining if they actually work.

if you're willing to contribute some input, click this link or any of the links below and comment away (here or there)!

no metaphor and next paragraphs
algebra metaphor
candy dish metaphor
modest mouse fire metaphor
no modest mouse fire metaphor

NEWS!!! (and the end of holy week)

i have been promoted!

today, may 1, marked my first day as a (or the) full-time editor for the MIRECC (Mental Illness Research, Education, and Clinical Center). it may even be my first day as an adult: my first day in an actual career. whoohoo!

in other news, beth is also starting a new job. as of may 15 she will be the coordinator for SPU's MFA in writing. congratulations beth!

(I will continue 'a pg-13 post' in a future posting)


andrew david 'ascension' puerto vallarta, mexico.

don't skip this picture! especially if your name is mari and you really loved my easter post. in a maundy thursday post, i presented a close-up image of the land-locked fellow. the portrait seemed to communicate a sense of pure horror (perhaps related to the crucifixion). then, in an easter post, i included a photo of the same triangle man that somehow communicated an entirely different perspective--it highlighted the praise-like position of his outstretched arms (perhaps related to the resurrection). i was concerned with simultaneously illustrating the transformative power of photography and the easter season. now, i have posted a final picture, which may finally tell the whole story.

to be honest, when i first saw these statues, they gave me the creeps, but given the current title and context, two other interpretations strike me as particularly fitting. the children on the ladder represent beth and i. triangle man--God--is encouraging, perhaps even commanding, us to venture upward. it's a ladder of life, with each rung representing another step in our earthly destiny. to some, this may seem like a sickly optimistic vision of life, but what can you expect, i just got a new job! instead of moving side-to-side in the grown-up world of jobs, i actually feel like my work-life is on an upward course.

but life is more than the day-to-day grind of the nine to five. likewise, this picture may suggest something a bit more transcendental. however, on my own i am afraid that i lack the language to make this message clear. andrew, beth, a ladder, and a triangle-headed God are curiously like the divine dance of the trinity, i can only pull the pieces together by using a distinctly christian lingo.

and here is my attempt: this picture represents the fruition of the gospels. God is calling us to resurrection life. he is urging us to accept christ's redemptive gift and live here on earth, here on the ladder. sure, there is an empty space at the rainbow's end, a moment where the ladder ends and we finally climb up into the son. but like christ, we must first make our homes here in this broken world. indeed, i think this picture might be the final, most poignant of my holy week posts--it is a picture for all year, all life 'round.