Ghosts in the Garden and the Rhetoric of Style

Kelsey Coons is family—the daughter of my cousin, Linda, and thus a Kephart by blood. Like her sister, Brianne, she is athletic, gorgeous, smart. Like her sister, she had a knack for making my mother smile. She always makes me smile, too, especially since we're also united by our love for dance (and for the show, So You Think You Can Dance).

Last fall Kelsey took a college class called Rhetoric of Style and chose the chapter "A Talent for Living" from my memoir Ghosts in the Garden as the subject of her final paper. Yesterday she asked if I would like to read it, and of course I said I would. I wanted to know Kelsey better. As it turns out, she taught me a whole lot about myself. About how I use semi-colons (as fulcrums). About how my use of the rhetorical I and you allows me to "generalize (my) personal epiphany to apply to reader who may make their living other ways." About how I use parentheses to validate word choices. About the emphasis I place on sounds. About the chemical mix of my choice in pronouns.

It is stunning to come up against the thoughts of one who has counted, literally, the syllables in your sentences, who has weighed the anaphoric series, who has discovered the rationale behind your own word choices, and not just your word choices, but your vowel choices. It is, in fact, humbling, to be found out—to have what you thought were your secrets parsed. On every level of her assessment, Kelsey got this right. She saw what it was that I hoped to do with words, and word parts, and expressed it far more intelligently than I myself would know how to do.

This blog post, then, is to honor Kelsey, and her talent for paying such close attention.