Layered Writing

I have no conception of who my audience is, so I find it difficult to know what subjects to focus on. I myself am fascinated by many things, and wish to share the indulgence of curiosity with as many people as possible. It is not of its own end, but is sufficiently worthwhile-enough that it is a meritorious pursuit of its own. It is like the pillar of a great building: its purpose is not to exist on its own, but it is a part of the building nonetheless, and is therefore worth honoring.

I have considered subjects like language, of which I have much interest and some knowledge, and others, such as astronomy, of which I have much interest but little knowledge. I could perhaps point to those constellations that even a child would know, but little more.

It is also reasonable to question what depth my audience, whoever that is–perhaps a scholar, a tradesman, a teacher, a poet, a mother, or some combination of other–is willing to go to into. I have sought to employ some level of layering in most of my previous writing, so that it is accessible to all, yet still enjoyable to the explorer.

An example: Dante and Mark Twain. For those who have read both, it will make more sense; for those who have not, it is not necessary. The writings of Dante Alighieri are, in my experience, some of the most inaccessible forms of extant writing. There are countless references to persons, geographical features, historical contexts, and the like that make it almost impossible for the average person to enjoy. You must be either a scholar yourself, or a persistent reader of commentary in order to understand his work. Mark Twain, however, is quite the opposite. His writing is extremely accessible to anyone who is literate. His stories focus on contexts that have features common to everyone: rocks, bridges, emotions, relationships, etc. That does not demean the value of either’s writing, but it is an important distinction.

So, in layering, my aim is to write in a way that is enjoyable to everyone, yet to contain greater depth as well, so that those who wish to go deeper are given the ability. I am not able to layer all of my writing, but it is my goal to let the broader brushstroke be the paint of multiple layers.

I will give a practical example, using a previous poem that I published on this forum.

Nonnery dockery, tickity toc,
Oh, how my feet go clippity clop.
Nonnery dockery, tickity toc,
“Stop, you, right there!” Though stop, I will not.
Eddying ponds and stirring up streams,
“No, not my reeds!” They yell with a scream.
Sloppity slip and slippity slop,
“Eddy my pond, and I’ll get you a mop.”

The poem is also in riddle form, using an acrostic. If all letters of the first line are combined, it spells “nonsense”. So, to those who wish to have a riddle, it is accessible, yet to those who do not, it is still a fun, silly, nonsensical rhyme with vivid imagery, much like those which children recite. There are ways of making it multiple layers deeper, but–in this instance–that was not the approach taken. That is what is meant by layered writing.

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