Writing with ,StYle

on theArt of Writing Conversations

SecondEdition

The (JniaersitYof Texasat Austin

JohnR' Trimble

New ]ersev 07458 PnrNrtcn Helr-, Upper Saddle River'

7
a__-\-,

ThinkingWell
The indispensable characteristic of a good uriter is a style ma*edby lucidity. -ErnestHemirg* y

Andhous is clarity to be achieoed? Mainly bg takingtrouble; andbg uritingto sensepeople rather than to im,press them. -F.L. Lucas

ach profession, it would seem, has its own style of thought that must I ' , be mastered before a person feels at home in it. The law certainly does. So does architecture. And so, too, with engineering, accounting. computer programming, film directing, psychology, carpentry-r-ou name it, they all have a style of thought related to the nature of the profession. It stands to reason that writing would have its own, too. {nd it does. \itrhat a nor.ice needs more than anything, then, is to plug into the brain of an esperienced writer-to understand the assumptiorx she hpically makes, the silent monologue that is occupying her head as she composes, the special effects she is trying to achieve . . . \\ithout thx Stidirrs instinct, wrifing nill remain all hit-or-miss-a frustrating repetition of trial and error, orer and orer again. I

Fundamentah

chess playerfaces manyof the sameproblems. Lacking any lcnd ot "chess ^-..,*1rb^""q.1ning sense," players cal it, he sitsbewiliered at the board] { movinglirst a pawr1then.a bfuhop,then_why not?_his q"""", Af at ran_ hopllg that somethi"ggoid *ill come of it but knowine that if it 9o-' -of"luck. piece He hasno ideail ,;;;;:d pJayers T*" . l, *::: l1l P: ," pt rnlnk at the board.Even sitting across from them, he cannotfathom what g/ thel"re tryingto accomplish with apartieular move,what brundersthey're trying to avoid,what alternategamesbalegre-s they might be considejng. He can certainlyappreciate *" tt e u"t""f-tho"ghifro""r, i, "ff"r*,Urit a mystery. Unfortunately,the grandmasters havemadeit far easierfor a novice to acquirechesssense than autlors havemadeit for him to acquireits riterary e-quivalent. They've published book after book explaini'nehow to think chess-what opening-gambits to cmsider, *#;";;;*t,u?m *o.r. tacticsto use.Authorsof uriUng t""tr, o'ih" oth* y,"l\ yh"l endgame hand,tend to stress mechanics, perh4o assuningthafpeopleeither know how to think or they don't. repairthat ,r_^_-],_n_"ry,,o {ychief aim"both in this chapterand rnroughoutthe book,is to :"$."L help10u derdop'writer's sense." youil {ind it as in&spensableasradar to a pilot- ru besn by erylaining ho* u ,ro'i"" vpi".,+/ thinks so that when I morc-m ,t *i,t^" hlw the veteran rTt:r rrunl$, you'll havea more vivid senseofttecontrast Ihel{orftn Most of the novice'sdifficuftoe$ cart with ttre simple fact that the paper he writes on is mute. Because it mrrer talks back'to him, and becausehe'sconcentratingsohard m gmaring ideas, he r"uaity-iorg"trunlike the veteran-that anotherhr#,o', r*t"i*u *rt,rdry Lrtrying to makesense of what hes sayingThe reo[? His"ndurartendericy asi u;*ter * n thmk prtT*dly of hunsety-ar* b torite prhnartly htksety. for --'' n"r", in a nutshell'lies the ulumateneas* fw most'bad *riiii.g." , He isn't awareof his egooffiim" of course,but aYl the symptoms of his root problem are ther!, b rlinl* th;;h ;;;i* nu ""i'r"tf
o Paul Burka, a Nationar tvt,agaztre"H-winning of Texas Monthlq, told one of my rt-dJ#"tir[g "r"'"s-, self-indulgence.; journalist and executiveeditor a writer has to do is curb his

Thi,nkingWell

passablyclear to him, since, for his purposes, it needn't be any clearer; he dispenseswith transitions becauseit's enough thathe knows how his ideas connect; he uses a private system-or no system-of punctuation; he doesn't trouble to deftne his terms becausehe understands perfectly well what he means by them; he writes page after page without bothering to vary his sentencestructure; he leavesoffpage numbers and footnotes; he paragraphs onlywhen the mood strikes him; he ends abruptlywhen he decides he's had enough; he neglectsjogJoo:frgg-the final job because the writno wonder that he fails ing is over . . Given his totafself-qie4tg@it's repeaiedly as a writer. Actually, he's not writing at all; he's merely communing privatelywith himself-that is, hek simplyputting thoughts down on paPer. I call this "unconsciouswriting." The unconsciouswriter is like a person who turns his chair away from his listener, mumbles at length to the wall, and then heads for home without a backward glance. Basically, all it takes to begin moving from unconscious writing to genuine writing is a few moments' reflection on what the writing/reading process ideally involves. Think about it. What it involves is one person earnestly attempting to communicate with another. Implicitly, then, it inof the com'manivolves the reader as much as the writer, sincethe success cation d,epends solely onhous the reod.erreceioesit. Also, since more than one person is involved, and since all of us have feelings , it has to be as subject to thn basi,cdes of good manners as any other humnn relati'onshlp. The writer who is fully aware of these imphcations-the conscious vnifsl-1ssemblesa person who companionably facesher listener and tries her level best to communicate with him, even persuade and charm him in the process, and who eventually bids him the equivalent of a genial farewell. The big breakthrough for the novice writer, then, will occur at the of what he's moment he begins to comprehend the. ttri"l iipli""Tns doing. Far from writing in a vacuum, he is conversing, ina-very real sense, with another human being, just as I am conversing right now s'ith you, even though that person-like you-may be hours, or days, ot e\:en vears away in time. This breakthrough parallels an infant's darvning realization that aworld exists beyond himself. Achnlh', since the novice is as much a self-oriented nerrcomer to his socialworld as the tufant is to his, we might suspect thtf &e similrrity doesnt end there- And we're right. Both of them pass ercugh a gradual process of smialization and deepening alvareness- The writer, for example, after reabzing thet a rvorld-a reader---sisis qrt there beyond

Fundamzntals

nativeryi,tr'*?i"a.r;;:;';;#(;;;:;;f:::yr,,1;lr:

himself, slowly comes to,develop, first, an awarenessof himself from the readers vantage point (objecti"i;;;,' ;;*;""

the reader's rights f""Itog. i;;;;r) you can seethai .of ",rd the writer is essentially retracing, in"a o.* the,s,a1e_ psycn_ he traveled asa chird'u*" 3.1"i;"#;:r*parabre. ;Jffi "orr*o, Havingpassed laststage the of courtesv as nr*uJJ,'. mark of a truly 3 "hild, son:social p"r_ sensitivitv.wri*n"'p;r;.;e "Trili".d stage asawrite4 he achieves the mark of a truly civil".a .lr"tfle style. "iir" The l"eteran The thinhng process of a skilledqriter reflectshow sheconceives the

f*il"1.,il1ff;.?:jil::t"T"".u,:i*.i.pingarearisticu,,
All writing is communicationBut mostuniting hopesto go further. It hopesto makethe rearrer.";;;ffi u'ays-with preased sm'es, nodsof assent, stabs ofp"thor, or;r;;# say'g"""tull1' tn"t *rff:rg i-s the art of creating cle,or"ot"#"Yri.can Now for an essaywrite4 the chiefdesiredeffectis persuasion. poseyou are that writer. your-ant Sup_ r*. ).*;;;;;;;; *"*'J; ,.", ideasandyou, their .o,r.""' ih"ilr.r# your i-deas soundandinterestingand,"t*tt-rJilo #, ttrem to ,,,iew as informe* direct, andcom_ panionable' (AIrof thlse things. desired effects.) If youdon.t persuadethem to accept^you, "f'*,n*-; it,s doubtful that persuade them to -r,ou,ll
The big question'then, is hcnubmin readers?Here are four essentials:

llll5, nl:J,"

p,inJi"g.iiffi# peopre *" rik" and trusr_

I' Havesomething to saytharssorth their attention.

'' ff;:l'

* tu ""Iatrv "iafr#-*.iT^errso

can pitch it with vou con-

4. Use anguage--ri.gorous r-erbs,strong nouns,and as^sertive "."fia""i[r"i*":1|flTT" phrasing.

While that looks l;ke a preqr.firII recipe for successful writing it isn.t. E'en ifwe excruderhr.t sti'missing-and armost "tthro;-;;rft;r

3. Furnish strong arguments tht are rrell supported su withconcrete proof.

ThinkingWeII

alwaysis. The ultimate way we win readers is by courteously sen:ingthemwell that i, satisSringtheir needs. An experienced writer knows that to serve complementary are T]_rey well. serve to iJ wel to sell is to sell weil; "["ally, activities. The means are inseparable from the ends' The writer, for all practLal puryoses' does not exist without the asfact sent of his readers, *ho i,^rreth" po*"t to shut him off at whim' This If w-e're fair. only But that's critical. absolutely of life makes pleasing them going to usk ih"* to"give us their time and attention, then we're inthei,r kindtebtl.rot the other wiy around; we must be prepared to repay their to square simply them pleasing Beyond own. ness with kindness olour debts and keep them reading, though, there's also the practical necessityr reof pleasing them in order to-persnade tlem. Samuel Butler longago tone but-by analyze' we can that "iV" arguments by ur" not won *"rk"d, agree and temper, by the manner which is the man himself." I don't wholly surely manner A pleasing truth. the to close with th;, brri itt certainly them makes one'sarguments themselvesseem pleasing becauseit dresses in an aura ofreasonableness. but All of us, I think, graspthese facts of life perfectlywell asreaders, selfunconsciously Being writers. as them ?otg"t most of us manage to simply to lay out our ideas. Experience keeps oriented, we thinf,itt "no'lgh *ill always lnsist on having their needs Reiders airpr.rl"g us, though. to, and if we're heedless, theyll say right every ur th"y"h"rr" f"rLa "fr?,, aside'^ "Enough piece our of you" and toss Ifo*, th"tt, do you ,"*" yo," t"ader? First, you must cultivate a psywins you chological sense. That is, you must sensitize y-ourself to what, f-eel well you makes what and respond, orr"r-]ho* andwhy you ;erv,edinand gradually learnt6 extend that awarenessto your reader.This book, read As you yourself. start-sensitizing to any as Afy, tL good a place "Is his style "ta.i to be askingyoutself such questions as these: y* orrgh"t "l*g, *hyl" too implex io be readable',"or too plain, or is it just right-an$ I?" don't ii or like I it? Do achieve he does -What iihi" to.r", and how "Do I like this two.lA/hy of a period?" instead here dcs he use a semicolon ..what effect do his contractions have on me?" A ,"oalo* paragraph?,, he writer eager to improve his psychological sense never simply reads; mesthe as well as manner the to alert always reads crif,a\-- Hirrnind is s-orls' plus r"j., f". onhrin this u-ay will he Iearn y-hlt.works and whv it listeningto musician one like He's it doesn't. **rv *fiat doesni fiork and and make imitate he'll special What's another. the chor& aDdphlPdngof his own.

Fundnm.entals

acquire the habit of re".rling attentively, you,ll find that vourpsychorogicar sense *ill i-pro.,,. rhdi, ;#;itirt,"r:|, tactical sense' too' This wit have an immldiate l-p""t

Once you

ly considerate' you"eaders';*H, #;* ing.And it will grve.you 9wn,wit dominat!vourthinkgl"r"*,,rro,rdir"kly t""r' to enjoytfie sense communion,the fellow_feelTg of it bringsir ; i,il-f,i"",,lr,i",rr, -*"..,r,r-r O"," uJ"r, . with-otherbTmao beings. tnrs brings^me -uch to the second A -f.-f,T:F,_l?:y: :_^ schooling _ t, ii n1_. Juy of servingyour read_ ers: vourserf tobe

ffi|:ffi[T#"* :"r",*","r,i#;':li,frJHJr:;tt&l* f

not only on the effective_ but on v* "*i*J'toialdir* *Lri-v"";ri discove

**'',ii:?JlJ';j1.","':"0*=,.G"g;_*,;;;;Z;

o".ian"exactly asyou wouid wish tobetreated, withgenuine **ia"",il*r-,ilHffir{*lri" u*n

otrerc.toid v."r,1i" readers. y"", vouacti...ely.tt *f. .i,il_I;#'"ry ""i"?Jrla withthem, empathize youtrv to intuit,r,"o them. with r**]iil"*"io itiili'J*uy, ro*r"rto their convenience' not your or own- yqr

add *"*i",r,"i,i :rf;*::ff# _,, nffi;:k.."^$.i*X them' note t* re_ad

how trr"y $ t \ s S \r $" N \

*o*oo aswell astJ wriung, "ppl-n -E l. Phrase yourthoSqh*clearly solw,re eas', to follow. 2' speakto thepoint soyoudmtG-readers'time. 3' Anticipate rTt: fatigue, irritarion). T*o:* o*G-Lao"", 4. offerthem varieryana*a*ffiL"t*.t. 5. Talkto&em u*t-' open " m*Frtutrad ofpontiftcaring to themlike ; #;:;i.tn

AlthoughI,ll be foJlowingrp-onallrlresepoints in later chapters, Iike to expandhrt" on #r, I,d the"t il#ay, and #3, the need io antici_ pateyour readers, responses. me a chance to explainmore tr, "rtrG concretelyth" *a *t"*-drlt processes of a skinedwriter. "rr,r.npiionr , phrase yourttqLb Clearty A prosestvle mayb^e^eloquenq |,,r.ri1l,witty, rhythmical, and fresh Montanaair' bui if it lacraa^ri as fu'reailrs *i'staywith it for rong. l, as no one enioysloohng at Just a vim, h*'r;r rp"ctacular,througha mud_ ,'o one enloyshrning-iJu ry-pt o.,y of word-,reduced ;I*: #,ljo*,

ThinkingWell

Hemingway was right: clarity is the indispensable characteristic of good prose. It's the {irst thing a reader demands, and perhaps the hardest thing to deliver. Not only must the indMdual thoughts be clear bul even more challenging, they must follow a logical sequence. Since the average human mind isn't accustomed to thinking systematically, trying to write clear prose is as fatiguing as watershing. You're using muscles that normally get little exercise, and they soon let you know it. But in writing, as in waterskiing, progress does come with practice. And it's greatly accelerated by imitating the techniques and attitudes of experts. Clear writers, for instance, vary widely in native intelligence, but they all share several attitudes: . They assume that their chief job is to comtrnunlcate. They hope to do more, ef s6u15s-namely, persuade and charm-but they know that communication must come first, especially if they are ever to achieve these other effects. o They assume,with a pessimism born of experience, that whatever isnt plainly stated, the readerwill invariably misconstrue. They keep in mind that she is, after all, a perfect stranger to their garden ofingenious ideas. In fact, to her, that garden may initially resemble a tangled thicket, if not a tropical rain forest. This being so, theirjob aswriter is to guide her through, step by step, so that the experience will be quick and memorable. This involves alertly anticipating her moments of confusion and perio&cally grving her an explanation of where she'sheaded. The writer's Golden Rule is the same as the moralist's: Do unto otlers. . They assume that even their profoundest ideas are capable ofbeing expressed clearly. They arent so vain as to 'hink that their reflections tranpunctures t-hat fantasy-nor scend the powers of language-S so lazy as to ask their reader to dqrble as a daiwoyant. As novelist Somerset Maugham remarked in Tle Swaturgup: I have never had much patience with the wrinrs $ho nlrim from the reader an effort to understand 1[sir me*ning. Tou bare onlv to go to the great philosophers to see '' -+ it is possible to eryress with lucidi$' the most subtle reflections- Ym man fmd it &fficult to understand the thought of Hume, andif 1m hrc no $ilosophical training its implications will dmbdess escrye yuu hrt ffacrly no one with any education at all can fail t udertud what tle meaning of each sentence is. o They have accepted the grim reality that nine-tentls rewriting . . of all writing is

ff l/

!r -*

Fundnnentals . Perhaps most important of all, they are sticklers for continuity. They link their sentencesand paragraphs as meticulously as if they might face criminal charges for negligence.

But rather than speakfor t}em, perhaps I should let a few clear writers speak for themselves.Here, first, is the distinguished British historian George M. Trevelyan: The idea that historieswhich are delightful to read must be the work of superficial temperaments, and that a crabbedsrylebetokens a deep thinker or conscientious worker,is the rer-erse of the truth. What is easy to read hasbeen dif{icult to write. The labor of writing and rewriting, correcting and recorrecting,is ttre due eractedby everygood book from its author. . The easilyflowing connectionof sentence with sentenceand "ah.a.s paragraphwith paragraphhas beenrn'onby the sweatof the brow. And now novelist JamesA. Michenen I havenever thought of myselfasa goodnriter. Anyonewho wantsreassurance of that shouldreadoneof mr-first dnafu.But I'm one of the worldt greatest rewriters. And finally E.B. White, perhaps America's most respected 20thcentury essayist, whose consistentlr"gracefrrlsh,le entitles him to have the last word: The main thing I try to do is trite as&arh- as I can. Because I havethe greatest r".p""t for the reader, andifhei gomgto ttre trouble of reading what I've written-I'm a slowreadermself and I guess mostpeople are-why, the least I can do is makeit aseasr aspJssiblefor him L {ind out what I'm trying to say,trying to get at. I ier.titr a good deal to make it clear.

Anticipate

Yorr Rea&/s

Responses

The chief dlfficulty with rmiting is that it seems a one-way process. You can't see your readert face" rou cant hear her, you can't get any feedback from her whatsoever.The norice writet as we've seen. is oblivious to this handicap. The shlled writer, though, is supersensitive to it. But he overcomes it by activelv imagining a reader-in fact, imagining

Thinki,ngWell

11

looking many different readers-just as an experienced TV newscaster' viewer' a imagines intoihe camerak unwinking eye, actively will deThe hnd of r"ud", (o.i"aders) that a shlled writer imagines other and writing' he's of on the occasion,tlt" rypg Piece p"rrd, of "oorse, whatever the occasion,he'll assumethe reader has a zil'.rrch ia"tors. But irrteresting things to do with her time, is readingat a fast clip, and lior is to -or. wa.l'tlngfo, oi u*irn to tune out' The writer's challenge' then' is iust her quite make is to challenge arioid giving filr that excuse'The supreme forgetlhe other things she wanted to do' " Ho* does the-writer meet these challenges? Chiefly by empathy' forth from The whole time he'swriting, he's constantly switching back and mena dozen makes he player, his own mind to hers. Like-a shlled chess reprobable to the as he tests them tal moves for every actual one. Each of If the game' of name is the s learned, ,fonr" it will elicit. Anticipation, he every it' So of controlling chance fair anticipate r"rponr", he has a li" " "un sentence-ye s, e1)erysentence-receives a battery of challenges: o ..AmI droninghere?Is shereadyto silenceme?Is there arrywayI canlighten this up?" gencyof this point?' . "Ho* I get her to see-tofeel-the ur^-""it me to a bump?" blinding f"tigrr" It oi here, o "Is the continuity si\ ideaclearenough . "Might ,h" *"1*1y1" L analoglhere, ot is this abstract on its own?" r "Am I treatingher asif shewere an idiot?' way this sentencemight confuseher?" o "Is *iere any conceivable r 'Have I jusi usedanyof thesewordsin previoussentences?" amI usingit to imAnd,honestly, . .will thisphrase strikeher aspretentious? cleanly?" thought the pressher,'oris this the only way I.ca1gxPress iwi[ it out?" spell better I had or ]rere, . sheget the nuance here?" o "Can the p*p on me for verbosity living voice comingthrough, or am o .will sheirear a stronglyconversational, to soundlike a book?" I beginning t"-*t*\* He's equally watchful about the way h9 pul"gla9ltt , ": under sinking him left all too well encountering whaleJike paragraphs that I e1e bounc- I theirweigbt, not to menltionthose miniparagraphs thal \ad,his knoss" has Se ing down"thepage' Too much or too little ln a paragraph" he cmtinuity bethe same effech it wears the reader out. He also watches t*"""p"*g"'et'..Istheconnectionsolid?,'heaslahinse|f.-Willmy argument? of,-m.v reader want an eren stuldier bridge between these lnrts hereF can feel disoriented t ,tt"r" any conceirable -an'she

t2

Fundnmentals

business. Bu' h{; _r;;; il; ffi,;il"r_ fully challensi'e'R"**dirg, "h,"-;;; genuinery communicate with anotheipeison, :"; ,rhe' yo,.',r"pro,r"dt "r#i,il" ler toaccept a newviewpoint, andwhenthewhole learning eryeri"o""t* made v.,u itfun forher,t'"tt a"ffii1liffig--rr"u, i""n fun for he. becauJe it'sexhilarating. SomeConduding Ttoughts
I' Mumbo-iumbo isanotherqmrdfogrunts ofthe mind. Mumbo iumbois what comesout in {irst uoa yo,r,r" *riu"g!"ri""lfy ""-od"doft.-*h"o o,

And so on, and so on. Wfitin-g yell is a long exercisein second_zuess ing and empathizing--cven a hnd"of .rorr-o*rot", serf-induced parinoia. It puts a premium o" r""i"l r"*iti'ity, ;.;""* and goodwit. It is, in short, averycomplicated

tofathom what_you think ?;"If^,:(#J!". "a""-;_,,,",fr..fr.g

2. Onceyou'vet"trl:q *qF frryounetf andbeginwritin gfor the read_ en your mumbojumbo *il ut t r._g ioa noo" lide prose_i.e., ser r_ tencesthat makesense. 3. If your readercant getyo-mfrll miqg in a singlereading, however_ and, a singlereadingb'! Jn;;; must lbce up to the facr that I,ou,reafflicted"with ; nJ;i#bo jumbo. bestremedyp sh""* ;ffi;; !. ?!. se,Eerrces. 5' \\4ren 1'ouffr"ttu ttri"l pr'*;;;"ff rcread it twic,ffrst throush the eyesof the a'e.age,*a*lr-_ffi* obscurities) ,e"oid throughthe eyes ".rd This "fy;G*rrl;.;otherlapses). tendsto havea nicely ct itu"! * ffirffi;a underthoughtprose. "r* 6. Asalast caution, r"a",n" g"*-JJffifrt. Then, inthemorning, at it again-you're bourd eo or"*-JJ"*** outrook. Also,do as tf,e professional auth., d"., friends.Tell them, "I'm interestedt" r""hC "4t;#;;" "r"did qFdigirql;;' not approved,r_and mean it. As reinforcement, it iigtrh+-;fi;;l'd you, fri"ods if you quote them a remark George fi;fsh.*f,'"11_"a" to the actress EIIen Terry.MissTerrvhadtnf.*ed;;ffi"; to defacethe manuscripts of a ptayhe hudr"r,t h., tffi*.';;;." backto her, Oh, botherthe MSS.,martthem asmuch asyou like: what else are they for? Mark errer;dftg;il*il;u. I may considera thing 49 rimes;bur ifjur dilr.;, ffiii be considered 50 times;and a line 50 ri.r.es.o.-a"r"i i, 2 p"r ce.rtbetterthan a line 49 times dli'.ri"'iri#, p* cent that "orrrid.ril,r makesthe diff"."o"" betw"o .r"Ul#l"a mediocrity.