Why I Love Terry Davis

There are reasons why Terry Davis is the chair of my Thesis Committee. There are reasons why TD is one of the major players that will review my Comprehensive Exam, just over a week away. Please be as gracious as you've ever been, TD--especially since I should be studying for the exam, but instead I'm blogging in your honor. There's a reason I've taken more courses from TD than any other professor ever (In second place is RT for his knack for poetry and a means to better my knack to blur the lines between non-fiction and fiction).

Terry has taught me more than I could ever capture in a simple, single blog. But what he's taught me about writing is, in fact, pretty simple. That "what" took a couple years to fully materialize into words I can easily express in this space. These words finally materialized for me last weekend up in Grand Marais, a place the perfect distance away from the stressful things in life that tend to cloud the observation it takes to come to epiphanies.

I can distill the most beneficial lesson Terry ever taught me into specific words. I can do this, not-so-coincidentally because Terry taught me how. First of all, these words come from my next-oldest brother, Justin, with whom I have the worst relationship with compared to my other two brothers. I know Terry would love Justin for the same reasons I do, mostly because neither of my other brothers taught me the need to be tough more than Justin did. The other reason I love Justin, and for which Terry would love Justin too, is for the words that I'll link to Terry's most beneficial lesson.

One day, Justin and I were watching Married With Children. After a particularly Al Bundy moment, Justin looked at me and said, "Al tells it like it is."

Tell it like it is.

Justin taught me that about life. Terry taught me that about writing. In Screenwriting and Contemporary Prose, Terry has his students read McKee's Story. Early on, McKee writes about Aristotle; how it's the artist/poet/writer's job to hold a mirror up to nature. Terry's best message to anyone, especially young writers, is to 1) be a thoughtful human being, and 2) be observant.

A few months ago, the combination of a good Jake's Pizza friend, Handsome Rob, and Quentin Tarentino helped me set aside certain childish revoltances towards the Country and/or Western icon that is Johnny Cash. Notice that the current "description" of my blog is a twist on the third act climax of the lyrics of "A Boy Named Sue." Last weekend, up in Grand Marais, I had a lighting strike-like revelation while listening to "I Walk the Line." I was struck to the marrow marrow.

"I keep a close watch on this heart of mine. I keep my eyes wide open all the time. I keep the ends out for the tie that binds. Because you're mine, I walk the line."

I think I shan't need to draw obvious connexions.

But mayhaps I do. When I theoretically think about it, writing is so simple. Its fundamentals certainly are. I tell my Comp students all the time: "Writing is easy. All you have to do is remember a million simple rules."

As Terry would say in any given class: take inventory of your emotions/reactions at all times. That means exactly what Cash says: Watch your heart. Keep your eyes open for ties that bind life together. Put your ego away and tell it like it is--walk the fucking line.

Of course, Cash was probably talking about shit that has little or no actual relevance to this subject--but who asked Cash? I'm the damn'd audience here. But so are these people, at Terry's reading this evening at The Filling Station:

There were more, but the pictures didn't quite turn out--my fault, which is just like life, I've observed. The reasons for my love for Terry are the same reasons why The Filling Station had never seen so many people pack its modest accommodations, and why so many people came to listen to their professor, with whom they have class twice weekly. The reason why is because they get his message, and because he's so able and willing to spread his message outside of the stuffy rooms of Armstrong Hall.

Not only is it spring semester for me, but it's my last spring semester. This would justify, I hope, this out-pouring of sap. Oh well. I don't care. For Terry Davis, I walk the line.

Mace...out