As with any commodity, the value of words is governed by supply and demand. Increase the value of your words by making each one count, and by insuring they mean something to somebody. Whether an author, emailer, Instagrammer, or unsung Facebook commenter, if you want your words to work, arm yourself with a mercenary, take-no-prisoners approach to writing.
Aside from scribbling notes or sobbing into your diary, the point of writing is to inform, to provide new information to someone else. That’s it. Doesn’t matter if it’s an article, poem, or novel. If your writing doesn’t reveal anything new, what’s the point?
Have something specific to say, and say it to someone specific. If you write to a vague, broad audience, your writing will be vague and broad. Identify your reader and write directly to them.
In fact, this is my best trick for beating writer’s block. When stuck, compose an email to someone you love, and explain the subject to them. I find grandmothers work well for this, even when long deceased.
Don’t write the way you want, write the way readers want. Organize and explain information logically, from the perspective of unfamiliarity. What should the reader learn first, then second, and how best to transition between them? My early writing mentor Lennox Samuels called it ‘holding the reader’s hand.’ This is writing’s crux — organizing information so it makes the most sense and creates the best story. Write an outline. Order and reorder your points. Think and rethink transitions.
I assume that for some authors, writing is like singing in the shower. For me, it’s boat-building with splintery wood, bendy nails and a homemade ruler. If you can relate, being organized, efficient and specific will make your job easier. Choose sentences, nouns and verbs that paint a rich picture in a minimum of brushstrokes. Inform the senses without being wordy. You can start a car, or you can twist the key so the starter squeals to life.
Every single sentence must compel the reader to read the next one. Consider your own scant patience for boring sentences and how soon you turn to skimming. The oceans of words sloshing around us have made us a species of skimmers. If your writing isn’t propulsive and sparky, nobody’s reading it.
Be sparing with yourself. At its core writing is egotistic, as it presumes more humans than you need your thoughts, so have a good reason to make yourself the story. At anything written in the first person, I’m pessimistic about the prospects for new information, because first-person stories are often written for the writer, not the reader. To challenge and distinguish yourself as a writer, write about others.
Long ago I resolved to never start a piece of writing with “I.” Is there anything more linguistically flatulent than making the very first syllable about yourself? When you do it, please picture me shaking my head sadly, as happens when I do it.
Hand in hand with your reader, start your story with one idea, perspective, or understanding, and end on another. Static stories don’t move readers. Change is the essence of both art and news. What’s changed? What could change? Why should we care?
Writing is easiest when you know your ending, or at least your concluding thought, before you compose your first sentence or paragraph. To run in the right direction, it helps to know where the goal line is. Out of all these tips, this one saves the most time.
Use contractions whenever possible. They save time and everyone wants to read faster. We do not need to read extra words because you do not think it is as professional.
Omit needless words, the classic ‘Elements of Style’ dictum. Almost every sentence I write, I take pains to shorten. Trim everything. Even syllables. Short words add punch. Of course, a long word in the right place can have a thunderous effect.
Seek and destroy all adverbs, the malarial mosquitos of the English language. Verbs wield the power. They fortify writing, enrich the story, propel it forward. Be suspicious of adjectives. Almost all adjectives are afterthoughts, and often weaken more than they strengthen.
If you’re contemplating using parantheses, simplify or reorder your prose until the mood passes. Don’t make any of your words second-class citizens.
Words to question, then delete: So. But. That. Words to banish from the page: Get, Got, and Gotten, the most godawful words of all.
Use active tense. Things having things passively done to them, who cares? When things do things, tell us more.
Avoid cliches at all costs. Take cheese right off the menu.
As Hemingway said, ‘Writing is rewriting, the first draft is always shit.’ I’d like to add, ‘Writing is research, the first source is always shit.’ Good writing is the result of thorough research, elegantly interpreted. It takes three points of data to make a straight line. There is always a different perspective to consider. Real journalism doesn’t presuppose the findings of an investigation.
Don’t get attached to anything. Not verbs, phrases, sentences, or paragraphs. The classic rule is “kill your darlings” — darlings being those phrases you cling to because, well, look how clever you are! To write is to embrace the calm nightmare of drawing a map while groping through the dark. It requires a lot of eraser. Be bold but directed, inventive but organized, impassioned but cold-blooded. When you’re stuck writing, it’s a sign a darling needs to die, or your outline has foundational problems.
Effective writing requires rhythm. Music is language, and language loves music. Rhythm gives instant dimension to words and thoughts. To create rhythm in writing: 1) vary the lengths and sounds of words and sentences, 2) resist over-description, 3) make discerning use of alliteration, assonance, and internal rhyme, and 4) read your writing aloud, rearranging and simplifying sentences for a more pleasing cadence. Cull everything clunky. Strive for lean, melodic prose. This shit takes time.
Finally, show, don’t tell.
Like all rules, these are meant to be broken. Occasionally.
Write to inform. March straight at your reader with fresh ideas, singing your colorful song, slashing at every extra word in your way, and your reader will thank you by reading.
