How a Russian Professor Made Me a Better Writer

When I was in college, I had a Russian Literature professor destroy the first paper I turned in for the semester. It wasn’t my content or sources she was critiquing. It was my sentence structure. And grammar. And, basically just how I wrote.

Was she kidding? I was an English major. I knew how to write reasonably well. Even if I needed a little bit of help, by now I was in my junior year at Miami University and should have had more than enough practice. After all, most of my English professors seemed to think my writing (including content) was A-worthy. How could she give me a C?!?

So I did what every entitled college student does. I looked up her office hours and demanded an in-person explanation.

Two important things happened the day I met with her in her office:

1 - I learned of a writing strategy called “rhetoric.” And,

2 - I began a years-long mentorship with who would grow to be one of my favorite professors.

Dr. Torlone spoke five languages and despite a heavy Russian accent, this included flawless English. As she walked me through the edits of my paper, I realized that she wanted my writing to be technically flawless. This meant trimming the fat - majorly. To this day, I write long literary sentences that are not fit for Twitter (a big reason why I dislike that platform) for my goal is to tell a story. Evoke an emotion. Draw the reader in.

But for Dr. Torlone’s class (and the subsequent three more classes I voluntarily took with her), I needed to go back to basics. I needed to re-learn (or remember…) how to write clean, proper English sentences without all the fluff and beautifully poetic language that gave my writing its signature style. It was a major challenge for me. Factual, to-the-point sentences did not flow easily from my fingertips and I would imagine most literary-trained writers would have had the same problem.

However, my grade began to improve. I moved from a C to a B-average, taking her comments in stride for how to better my English. Eventually (one year later), I did pull my grade up to an A and Dr. Torlone invited me to speak at a conference on campus and deliver one of my papers. The topic compared the works of Ovid and Joseph Brodsky (in case there was any doubt how much of a nerd I actually am).

My writing not only changed in her class, but it changed in my other classes as well. I became more aware of not only what I was saying, but how I was saying it. Where could I tighten my language? What was repetitive? What was unnecessary to my point? Did this shift diminish my literary style? Some. Did it increase my readership since my writing was becoming more accessible? Yes.

To this day, when a client says to me: “You write as though you’ve always been a part of our team,” I think of Dr. Torlone. I have been able, through her insistence, and, now, years of practice, adapted my own writing style to the styles of those around me. Whether I’m writing for a children’s toy company or an H.R. recruiting firm, my voice speaks in a way that is moving to their readers.

In fact, if I’m doing my job right, my voice shouldn’t be anywhere in there at all.