lippogram

I've never come across this type of writing assignment before. It was quite a thinker.

Here's the writing prompt: "A lippogram is a writing technique in which a letter is deliberately left out (first pioneered by a group of experimental French writers known as Oulipo). This doesn’t mean just removing the letters, but finding a way to say something that doesn’t use any words that contain that letter. For example, a sentence like “He went to the bank to deposit a check,” could be written without using any “e’s” like this: “A man took a trip to a bank to drop off his bi-monthly pay into his savings account.” The most famous example of this is Georges Perec’s novel La Disparation, which is a 500-page novel without any “e’s” whatsoever (amazingly, it was successfully translated into English; it’s English title is A Void). A more recent example is Mark Dunn’s novel Ella Minnow Pea, which is a progressive lippogram; each chapter drops another letter, until the only letters that remain are L, M, N, O, and P.

For this assignment, take a paragraph you’ve already written (at least 250 words long) and rewrite it, without using the letter “e” anywhere. The point of this exercise is to get you thinking about language in ways you’re not used to, to make you look at words you normally take for granted. Often, without even noticing it we fall into habits in our writing—using the same constructions, vocabulary, etc. To not use the letter “e” is to have to think about syntax and word choice in a totally different way. It naturally changes your tone and style (for example, you can’t have “men,” women,” or even “people”—so what happens if you use “guys” and “gals,” or “folks” instead?). If you find yourself getting stuck in a rut, a detour like a lippogram can be a great way to have to reconsider your language."

Here's what I came up with:

Original text:

Sniffling, tired and depressed, I went for a walk around the lake. No one needed me in the office, so I didn't feel guilty for slipping out for half an hour. It wasn't as warm in the late afternoon, but I had dressed in layers, and I was armed with a pocketful of tissues.

The water raged over the waterfall from the recent rain. Some of the townhouses for sale off the lake path look like dollhouses. I wish I could afford one - living in a townhouse on a lake sounds divine.

Lots of dogs out - two pit bulls straining at the end of their leashes, wanting desperately to say hi to each other, and little yappy dogs. The ducks and geese and swans congregated on the water, with a heron observing them from a distance.

Despite my cold, I could still smell winter - fireplaces, warmth held in the body, ice in the wind, scarves and mittens, the sleep of some things, the death of others. I never bought into the whole spring starts on this date and fall starts on that date. Mother Earth doesn't work that way - leaves start changing color and falling off trees in August.

Everyone I passed nodded, smiled, or said hi, including the old man who is always bundled up in coat, gloves, and hat with ear flaps and shuffles along the path picking up trash and stray branches.

The sunlight was full in my face. In the blazing glare, I could just make out a young man on crutches coming toward me. As I got closer, I saw that in fact, he had two white metal canes that he steadied on the path and then swung his body forward. It was a slow process, requiring all his focus, and it looked tiring, but he wasn't out of breath. He didn't have any use of his legs, which he kept close together and which were slightly twisted at an odd angle. He was by himself. How he had gotten to the lake? Did he intend to go around the entire lake, which is two miles? He looked at me and smiled.

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Lippogram text:

Sniffling, worn out and unhappy, I took to walking daily. I wasn’t vital to daily goings-on at work, so I thought nothing of slipping out for half an hour. It wasn't as warm during mid-day, but I had a thick coat, and a handful of napkins.

I wish I could afford a flat off this pond’s path. Living in a flat on a pond sounds fabulous.

Lots of dogs out - two pit bulls wanting to say hi, and small yappy mutts. Ducks and swans pick at grass, with frogs watching from afar.

My cold notwithstanding, I could still catch a wintry aroma - warmth in body, frost in wind, dry air all around. I don’t buy into spring starts on this day and fall starts on that day. Our natural world works in its own way – colors start changing in August.

All I pass nod, grin, or say hi, including an old thin man swimming in a coat and hat, shuffling along, picking up trash and an occasional stray branch.

Sunlight was guiding my stroll. In a blazing glow, I could just distinguish a young man with walking sticks coming my way. As I approach, I spot that in fact, this guy had two wood walking sticks balancing in front of him, and a quick motion to swing his body forward. It was slow going, involving all his focus, and tiring all who saw him, but this guy wasn't worn out. From waist down, his limbs show an obvious twisting in an odd position. All on his own, sticks swing forward, body swings forward, around a big pond on a cold day. Nodding and grinning, passing and focusing.