Whose words are they, anyway?

Over on Mindfulness and Mortality, Gloria received a comment from Rupert, who always makes a good point.

Rupert tells of a celebrant (sadly one of ours, I fear), who didn't want to hand over the funeral "script" because Rupert also conducts ceremonies.

Well, of this person, I can only say - what a plonker. And this opinion is later backed up by the fact that the celebrant in question appears to have done a major cut and paste job in putting together his ceremony.

So what are the usual practices out there? Speaking for myself, I usually offer the tribute part of the script and the text of any poems or readings discussed. I don't usually offer the whole thing, mostly because it doesn't often get written that quickly. My working method is that I like to write up the tribute within a day or two of the meeting, when memory has a better chance of making up for gaps in the notes. This, I will happily send to the family (explaining that it's a first draft) in order that they can check for accuracy and tone etc.

But the rest of the ceremony, I put together (time allowing) a few days later. I like a bit of time to mull over the person I've been hearing about (while I'm doing the ironing, or similar) and try to think about what to say about life, death and the universe in relation to their lives. These thoughts may remind me of quotes, readings or poems which may be apt - Rupert makes another very valid point about using the right type of readings for the right type of people - not everyone wants Shakespeare.

And so the ceremony itself may not be put together until a little later - by which time I may also have contributions from friends and family and so can think about how best to place them. (Narrative arc, smooth flow and other such creative writing theories).

I am, of course, happy to discuss ideas with the families and to show them bits that I've written, but it's not always practical to give them a full copy of the words before the ceremony.Ideally the ceremony is written a few days before the event itself, to allow for editing, and so is still in draft stage until the day before.

The above is partly "ideal world" stuff - if there are only three days between the visit and the ceremony, then the pulling out of a finger is required, and I have to get on with it. But such ceremonies don't feel quite as polished.

I will hold my hand up and say that I, too, am a fan of the "cut and paste" function. (I tend to describe my ceremonies as "created from scratch" rather than "written from scratch").

There's a quote somewhere about the difference between plagiarism and research being the number of sources - most celebrants are magpies when it comes to finding quotes and readings. But each piece being reused is chosen for its relevance, rather than its convenience. And, at the risk of sounding immodest, I also plagiarise myself, recycling and adapting my own words, where they are right for the person concerned.

Once the ceremony is written and delivered, the words are my responsibility, but no longer my property. A hard copy is given to the family and often I will also put a copy of the transcript on CD, particularly if there are many family members, or people who are far away, to enable them to print other copies or email them where needed.

Being protective of the ceremonies that we produce is understandable, if we sweat blood to write them. But understandable is not the same as right. The words have been read publicly and nowhere does it say "(c) 2010, X Piry".

Being protective of the ceremonies that we produce, if they are largely cut and paste from other sources is just plain daft and suggests an arrogance and paranoia beyond reason.

If anyone else wants the soapbox, I think I've finished with it for now.

First family visits

Well, it's 9 o'clock on a sunday morning, and I've been writing since 7:30, doing the two tributes from my family visits on Friday.

Yes, count 'em, two.

Interesting family dynamics, as I suspected, at the first one. I'd been told some of the negative stuff about the deceased during a phone call with her daughter. None of this came out at the meeting, so I was happy to ignore the bad stuff.

Then, yesterday morning (just as I was about to go out - note to self- use answerphone more) the same daughter rang to tell me tales of depression, marital conflict, family dysfunction and the like. Oh joy, so not only was I late meeting my friend, but I had to listen to someone complaining about her nearest and dearest! I've got family of my own if I want to hear whinging! I've also been left with the problem of what do I put in my script. The tribute should be accurate, but I don't think it hurts to have a few euphemisms. A carefully worded "they went through the ups and downs that all marriages experience" should hopefully be recognisable to all who knew her, without telling the world that they rowed a lot.

My second visit was to a lady who is one of life's philosophers. She's obviously well read and had very kindly written out a precis of her mother's life for me, so I had a lot of material to use for the tribute. I'm convinced that I once worked with the deceased, during a not particularly glittering point in my career (the non-glittering was entirely my own doing, nothing to do with the deceased or her colleagues). I feel happier about this tribute, but conscious that I've only met one of the descendants, and must be careful to include the other.

Between family visits, I popped in to visit the FD I'd previously met (nice lady), and another that I hadn't had dealings with. Timing was on my side, as the funeral arranger had just met a family who wanted a humanist officiant. What a result! So I've got another family visit Tuesday evening.

Bring them on.

Critique and self-doubt.

"All feedback gratefully received." That's what I always say. Of course, what I actually mean is "please love me, and don't criticise, or I'll cry".

I say all this because SWMBO gave me feedback on my second script. She gave me a lot of constructive advice on how to make it better, but I wanted it to be good enough already!

I know, unrealistic expectations of self have always been a problem; it is, after all, only my second script, and so I have things to learn. But it still hurt.

I hope that I was positive and polite when I spoke to her (even if she HATED my choice of poem for the committal), and I could see that all of her suggestions were right, but I felt a bit flat afterwards.

I've swapped scripts with other members of the group, or rather, I embraced the idea, sent my work out to 5 people, and only one has replied and I spent ages frightened to read her work, in case it was brilliant. It is very good, but not to the point where I'm intimidated.

In the final part of training, a group of us work together on a script, and I'm already convinced that none of my contributions will be used, as everyone else will be better than me.

But I have a lifelong habit of worrying about things that haven't happened yet, so perhaps I should just take a breath, calm down and do my homework!