Omissions

Yesterday I omitted parts of the story.

Certain details that aren’t necessarily important to your understanding of my story, but are pertinent to my understanding of my own story and how 9/11 influenced my life.

When one writes, one omits. There is always something you aren't telling whether you realize it or not.

When writing a term paper for class, you include the details that prove your point and stay away from the details that may disprove it. When constructing a history book, the author must decide which people to highlight and which to let slide.

When I write a play, I tend to write short, to the point dialogue. There is a lot that is left unsaid which is just as important as what is said.

When writing our personal narratives, we highlight the aspects of ourselves or of those we love that are good. Usually. If you are trying to depict yourself or loved one as a villain, you omit that time when you or the loved one was sweet and kind. You omit the complicated emotions that might have emerged in a certain situation because you would have to tell another story, highlight another personality trait, that may lead the reader astray. A good storyteller, a good comedian does the same thing. A story about some woman falling on her face may be funny—if you don’t include that she was nine months pregnant at the time.

Have you seen Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? I love that movie. One day, I happened to read the original plan for the ending of the movie on IMDB. The original ending allowed us to get a glimpse into the characters’ futures. Let me tell you, that future was less than grand. If I had seen the movie with that ending, I have a feeling I might not have liked it as much. Does the original ending change anything about the rest of the movie? No. The events would be the same, but those events only worked for me when I wasn’t sure of the future, wasn't sure where Clementine and Joel would end up. I could hope. I could be pessimistic. It was my choice. Knowing their futures changed that. It was defined for me and I didn’t like it.

Which is probably why that ending did not come fruition.

Writing is about omitting, about editing, about finding what works and what is needed.

I struggle as a writer to decide what to keep and what to cut. What is the right amount of information and what is too much? Or, in the case of my play and general writing style, what is too little?