Writing: A Guide (Part II)
I am repeating the introduction for those readers who may not have seen part I, which is here. Parts III and IV are here and here.
This series is aimed at writers of non-fiction works, but writers of fiction may also find it helpful. There are four parts:
I. Some Writers to Heed and Emulate
A. The Essentials: Lucidity, Simplicity, Euphony
B. Writing Clearly about a Difficult Subject
C. Advice from an American Master
D. Also Worth a Look
II. Step by Step
A. The First Draft
1. Decide — before you begin to write — on your main point and your purpose for making it.
2. Avoid wandering from your main point and purpose; use an outline.
3. Start by writing an introductory paragraph that summarizes your “story line”.
4. Lay out a straight path for the reader.
5. Know your audience, and write for it.
6. Facts are your friends — unless you’re trying to sell a lie, of course.
7. Momentum is your best friend.
B. From First Draft to Final Version
1. Your first draft is only that — a draft.
2. Where to begin? Stand back and look at the big picture.
3. Nit-picking is important.
4. Critics are necessary, even if not mandatory.
5. Accept criticism gratefully and graciously.
6. What if you’re an independent writer and have no one to turn to?
7. How many times should you revise your work before it’s published?
III. Reference Works
A. The Elements of Style
B. Eats, Shoots & Leaves
C. Follett’s Modern American Usage
D. Garner’s Modern American Usage
E. A Manual of Style and More
IV. Notes about Grammar and Usage
A. Stasis, Progress, Regress, and Language
B. Illegitimi Non Carborundum Lingo
1. Eliminate filler words.
2. Don’t abuse words.
3. Punctuate properly.
4. Why ‘s matters, or how to avoid ambiguity in possessives.
5. Stand fast against political correctness.
6. Don’t split infinitives.
7. It’s all right to begin a sentence with “And” or “But” — in moderation.
8. There’s no need to end a sentence with a preposition.
Some readers may conclude that I prefer stodginess to liveliness. That’s not true, as any discerning reader of this blog will know. I love new words and new ways of using words, and I try to engage readers while informing and persuading them. But I do those things within the expansive boundaries of prescriptive grammar and usage. Those boundaries will change with time, as they have in the past. But they should change only when change serves understanding, not when it serves the whims of illiterates and language anarchists.
II. STEP BY STEP
A. The First Draft
1. Decide — before you begin to write — on your main point and your purpose for making it.
Can you state your main point in a sentence? If you can’t, you’re not ready to write about whatever it is that’s on your mind.
Your purpose for writing about a particular subject may be descriptive, explanatory, or persuasive. An economist may, for example, begin an article by describing the state of the economy, as measured by Gross Domestic Product (GDP). He may then explain that the rate of growth in GDP has receded since the end of World War II, because of greater government spending and the cumulative effect of regulatory activity. He is then poised to make a case for less spending and for the cancellation of regulations that impede economic growth.
2. Avoid wandering from your main point and purpose; use an outline.
You can get by with a bare outline, unless you’re writing a book, a manual, or a long article. Fill the outline as you go. Change the outline if you see that you’ve omitted a step or put some steps in the wrong order. But always work to an outline, however sketchy and malleable it may be. (The outline may be a mental one if you are deeply knowledgeable about the material you’re working with.)
3. Start by writing an introductory paragraph that summarizes your “story line”.
The introductory paragraph in a news story is known as “the lead” or “the lede” (a spelling that’s meant to convey the correct pronunciation). A classic lead gives the reader the who, what, why, when, where, and how of the story. As noted in Wikipedia, leads aren’t just for journalists:
Leads in essays summarize the outline of the argument and conclusion that follows in the main body of the essay. Encyclopedia leads tend to define the subject matter as well as emphasize the interesting points of the article. Features and general articles in magazines tend to be somewhere between journalistic and encyclopedian in style and often lack a distinct lead paragraph entirely. Leads or introductions in books vary enormously in length, intent and content.
Think of the lead as a target toward which you aim your writing. You should begin your first draft with a lead, even if you later decide to eliminate, prune, or expand it.
4. Lay out a straight path for the reader.
You needn’t fill your outline sequentially, but the outline should trace a linear progression from statement of purpose to conclusion or call for action. Trackbacks and detours can be effective literary devices in the hands of a skilled writer of fiction. But you’re not writing fiction, let alone mystery fiction. So just proceed in a straight line, from beginning to end.
Quips, asides, and anecdotes should be used sparingly, and only if they reinforce your message and don’t distract the reader’s attention from it.
5. Know your audience, and write for it.
I aim at readers who can grasp complex concepts and detailed arguments. But if you’re writing something like a policy manual for employees at all levels of your company, you’ll want to keep it simple and well-marked: short words, short sentences, short paragraphs, numbered sections and sub-sections, and so on.
6. Facts are your friends — unless you’re trying to sell a lie, of course.
Unsupported generalities will defeat your purpose, unless you’re writing for a gullible, uneducated audience. Give concrete examples and cite authoritative references. If your work is technical, show your data and calculations, even if you must put the details in footnotes or appendices to avoid interrupting the flow of your argument. Supplement your words with tables and graphs, if possible, but make them as simple as you can without distorting the underlying facts.
7. Momentum is your best friend.
Write a first draft quickly, even if you must leave holes to be filled later. I’ve always found it easier to polish a rough draft that spans the entire outline than to work from a well-honed but unaccompanied introductory section.
B. From First Draft to Final Version
1. Your first draft is only that — a draft.
Unless you’re a prodigy, you’ll have to do some polishing (probably a lot) before you have something that a reader can follow with ease.
2. Where to begin? Stand back and look at the big picture.
Is your “story line” clear? Are your points logically connected? Have you omitted key steps or important facts? If you find problems, fix them before you start nit-picking your grammar, syntax, and usage.
3. Nit-picking is important.
Errors of grammar, syntax, and usage can (and probably will) undermine your credibility. Thus, for example, subject and verb must agree (“he says” not “he say”); number must be handled correctly (“there are two” not “there is two”); tense must make sense (“the shirt shrank” not “the shirt shrunk”); usage must be correct (“its” is the possessive pronoun, “it’s” is the contraction for “it is”).
4. Critics are necessary, even if not mandatory.
Unless you’re a skilled writer and objective self-critic, you should ask someone to review your work before you publish it or submit it for publication. If your work must be reviewed by a boss or an editor, count yourself lucky. Your boss is responsible for the quality of your work; he therefore has a good reason to make it better (unless he’s a jerk or psychopath). If your editor isn’t qualified to do substantive editing, he can at least correct your syntax, grammar, and usage.
5. Accept criticism gratefully and graciously.
Bad writers don’t, which is why they remain bad writers. Yes, you should reject (or fight against) changes and suggestions if they are clearly wrong, and if you can show that they’re wrong. But if your critic tells you that your logic is muddled, your facts are inapt, and your writing stinks (in so many words), chances are that your critic is right. And you’ll know that your critic is dead right if your defense (perhaps unvoiced) is “That’s just my style of writing.”
6. What if you’re an independent writer and have no one to turn to?
Be your own worst critic. If you have the time, let your first draft sit for a day or two before you return to it. Then look at it as if you’d never seen it before, as if someone else had written it. Ask yourself if it makes sense, if every key point is well-supported, and if key points are missing, Look for glaring errors in syntax, grammar, and usage. (I’ll list and discuss some useful reference works in part III.) If you can’t find any problems or more than trivial ones, you shouldn’t be a self-critic — and you’re probably a terrible writer. If you make extensive revisions, you’re on the way to become an excellent writer.
7. How many times should you revise your work before it’s published?
That depends, of course, on the presence or absence of a deadline. The deadline may be a formal one, geared to a production schedule. Or it may be an informal but real one, driven by current events (e.g., the need to assess a new economics text while it’s in the news). But even without a deadline, two revisions of a rough draft should be enough. A piece that’s rewritten several times can lose its (possessive pronoun) edge. And unless you’re an amateur with time to spare (e.g., a blogger like me), every rewrite represents a forgone opportunity to begin a new work.
If you act on this advice you’ll become a better writer. But be patient with yourself. Improvement takes time, and perfection never arrives.