Lauded by many as the closest thing the LDS Church has ever had to its own poet laureate, Elder Neal A. Maxwell's command of language has become his hallmark among Latter-day Saints.

"Poetry personified at the pulpit" is an expression some church members used to describe Elder Maxwell's talks. Many, however, were not aware that some of his speeches went through 20 drafts before they were delivered.

"I have to work at my addresses," he once said. "Maybe some of this rewriting is vanity, but part of it is my regard for people. If they're going to take time to listen to me, I really owe it to them to be prepared.

"The gospel truths are so transcending, even stunning, in their significance; they deserve to be clothed in the best language and expression each of us can produce."

And while his experiences in the military, government, education and public service honed both his writing and speaking skills before he ever became a general authority, he said one teenage episode of laissez faire figured large in his quest to direct his best writing toward God.

After receiving a D-minus from his high school English teacher, the young student felt he had just cause to complain. He told the Granite High School teacher he didn't think he'd done that poorly, but she was unmoved.

"Neal, you are capable of doing A work," she said. "Until you do, you are going to continue to get D-minuses."

He acknowledged the shock treatment motivated him to take the class seriously, and he later became editor of the school paper. His letters home while serving in the Army during World War II were more detailed than most, and he was employed to write letters to families whose sons had been killed in action. The experience would serve not only as a lesson in compassion, but in crafting that feeling well in words.

He was also called on to employ his writing skills during his LDS mission in Canada and wrote a new teaching plan that was used not only in his mission but in others. His political science background and work for Sen. Wallace F. Bennett in Washington, D.C., fed his hunger for a wide variety of perspectives, and he read everything from newspapers to works of history, biography and philosophy. His work as chairman of Utah's Constitutional Revision Commission no doubt sculpted his appreciation for the power of individual words.

C.S. Lewis became a favorite of his, as he grew to realize that poetic forms and phrases — given in a quotable sound bite — "hook onto the memory" with a "powerful emotional effect."

He was never without a writing project, according to his son, Cory, director of publishing for Deseret Book. Cory Maxwell told the Deseret Morning News on Thursday that Elder Maxwell was working on a final book up until the last few weeks of his life and had it "basically finished" when he died.