THE COCKTAIL PARTY

As luck would have it, the cocktail party brought together two masters of the English language. On the one hand, Arthur Lambert was a highly respected professor of English and creative writing. On the other hand, Tom Salinger was a well-known and celebrated author of short stories and novels.

Professor Lambert approached the famed author and introduced himself.

“Hello, Mr. Salinger. I’m so happy to have the opportunity to meet you. I’m a great fan of your writing. In fact, I use your writing in my graduate classes as an example of how to write. I really feel that you represent the top of the heap; the pinnacle; the cream of the crop, if you will.”

“Nice to meet you, Professor Lambert, and I have to admit that I’m tickled pink to hear you say that. Please tell me more about your teaching method.”

“Well, Mr. Salinger, the first thing I try to impress upon my students is that writing is hardly brain surgery. A student must go back to square one and start at the basics in order to build a good foundation.”

“Professor, or may I call you Arthur? Excellent. Please, call me Tom. I think we are attached at the hip in that approach. If a student goes back to the basics, he won’t be left holding the short end of the stick. If a student’s writing did not improve after going back to the basics, why, I would eat my hat.”

“Ah, yes, Tom, but the plot thickens! What if you have a very talented student, and his writing is as good as it gets?”

“Yes, Arthur, I see where you’re coming from. But remember, all that glitters is not gold. There are always aspects that can be improved. After all, what’s the biggest room in the world? The room for improvement!”

“Tom, you’re right. I often tell my students who might be frustrated not to get their knickers in a twist. In this field, feedback is invaluable. It’s all for one and one for all.”

“Art, do you ever have a student who has writer’s block?”

“Oh, yes, Tom, that phenomenon is certainly not as rare as hens’ teeth. If I see that the cat’s got a student’s tongue, so to speak, I tell him it’s just a matter of time until he breaks out of his rut.”

“But what if he really is stuck in molasses?”

“I often tell him, ‘Time heals all wounds, and time wounds all heels.’ I also remind the student that every cloud has a silver lining. Sometimes, a pause is just the calm before the storm. I tell the student to relax and look before he leaps. Let’s face it, many young students are diamonds in the rough. They just need some tender loving care in order to make progress.”

“Art, that reminds me of a young student I once met years ago when I was teaching at the local community college. He seemed to have nerves of steel, but in reality, he was stuck in quicksand with his writing. I told him that haste makes waste, and that all’s well that ends well. He took that advice and proved that he was as fit as a fiddle. In the nick of time, his writing bloomed like a rose. I really enjoyed teaching that course. I had the time of my life.”

“Tom, I’m with you on that one. I had a similar experience in one of my first classes, although it makes me sound as old as the hills. This poor chap had his tail between his legs when I first met him. I showed him that one should never cry over spilled milk. If you haven’t written a masterpiece yet, just plow on ahead. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. And don’t compare yourself to others. Remember, what goes around comes around. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. All’s well that ends well. And do you know, he read between the lines of what I was telling him. He was really as sharp as a tack.”

“Art, you were really saved by the bell on that one. I love teaching young students like that who are talented but need just a hand up. With such students, the handwriting is on the wall. They are going to succeed, as long as they apply some elbow grease. I tell them, just take your time; although, admittedly, time and tide wait for no man.”

“Tom, I think that talk was a shot in the arm for that student. Once he gets into his groove, all hell will break loose. He will find writing as easy as pie.”

“Art, I think you’re calling the shots accurately. And I hope your students appreciate your teaching methods and don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“Well, Tom, for a while I did feel like I was hanging by a thread. But then I realized that, if the shoe fits, wear it. I no longer felt like I was skating on thin ice. Look, the proof is in the pudding.”

“Art, just remember, he who laughs last laughs best. There is no way they would get your goat. Your training is like icing on their cake. There was never a good reason to walk on eggshells. Their writing will eventually be fine and dandy.”

“By the way, Tom, are you currently working on anything new? Perhaps another novel? That would be the best thing since sliced bread.”

“Art, I do happen to be working on the outline for a new novel.”

“Oh, Tom, that’s music to my ears! What’s the down low on the theme of the book?”

“Art, I think you’re going to be as happy as a clam when I tell you. It’s about an English professor whose writing has a razor’s edge to it. His work is considered the cat’s meow. But dark clouds are on his horizon. His writing becomes very repetitious to the point where critics accuse him of beating a dead horse. He found the criticism so hard to swallow that it made his blood boil. But the jury was still out on his work. To be fair and square, that phenomenon could affect us all. I'm sure you agree that what's good for the goose is good for the gander.

But the criticism that really got his goat, that really stuck in his craw, that really took the cake, that was like a slap in the face, that was like a stab in the back, that really came out of the blue, that was the straw that broke the camel's back, was the accusation that he used too many clichés in his writing.”