May 27, 2011

Grammar Girl: Writing Concisely (Part 2)


I really wanted to figure out how to SHOW my students the power of writing concisely. So I told them about my Fiction class in college, the one during which I took my first real stabs at fiction writing. I wrote a story about my summer camp, a place that was special to me, and thought I'd written something fairly pretty. After reading it, my professor decided it would make a perfect exemplar for our upcoming class on writing concisely/word choice. He handed out a copy to every student and asked them to do just one thing: get rid of the words the story doesn't need. I thought this would mean maybe five or six words. But really it meant more like 50%.
I hated to show this example to my students, because the writing is horrifyingly bad. I really can't believe I thought so highly of this paragraph. I can't believe no one mocked me--I mean, I'm thankful no one did, but wow. But sharing it with students also (I hope) showed them the power and importance of critique for anyone who's serious about writing.
So this is the paragraph I started out with:
Swift walked through the mist of a late August summer morning. The lush green leaves of oaks, cedars, and poplars shifted gently in an infinitesimal breeze. Thick tufts of foliage hanging from forked branches twittered with the cacophony of cackling birds. Through small gaps in the forest canopy, lines of soft golden light filtered through, and slanted slivers of pale green and yellow cut through the air. Electric green moss crept around the roots and edges of the forest floor. It had rained the night before and the forest’s thick carpet of dead leaves was drying. Their crinkled white and brown spots gave off the acrid smell of wet mold and ancient stories. Swift’s feet pattered softly up the dusty path that wound through the forest like a creek would, babbling over small rocks and fallen branches. She walked without seeing; she could have closed her eyes and walked the path from memory. The putter of her feet was barely perceptible as she traversed the path that would lead her to the top of the valley. (176 words)

This is what the class did to it:
Swift walked through the mist of a late August summer morning. The lush green leaves of oaks, cedars, and poplars shifted gently in an infinitesimal breeze. Thick tufts of foliage hanging from forked branches twittered with the cacophony of cackling birds. Through small gaps in the forest canopy, lines of soft golden light filtered through, and slanted slivers of pale green and yellow cut through the air. Electric green moss crept around the roots and edges of the forest floor. It had rained the night before and the forest’s thick carpet of dead leaves was drying. Their crinkled white and brown spots gave off the acrid smell of wet mold and ancient stories. Swift’s feet pattered softly up the dusty path that wound through the forest like a creek would, babbling over small rocks and fallen branches. She walked without seeing; she could have closed her eyes and walked the path from memory. The putter of her feet was barely perceptible as she traversed the path that would lead her to the top of the valley. (176)

And this is what I ended up with:
Swift walked through the woods on a summer morning. Lines of soft light fell through the canopy, lighting up the path that stretched out in front her. It had rained the night before and the leaf carpet was drying. It gave off the acrid smell of wet mold and ancient stories. Swift’s feet pattered up the dusty path that wound up to the top of the valley. She walked without seeing; she could have closed her eyes and walked the path from memory. (80 words)

I was crushed by this exercise, of course. I thought the class was trying to kill all of my lovely description, all of my well-crafted alliteration. But looking back I know that was the most life-changing critique I ever recieved. Because my first paragraph was completely awful, and if they hadn't showed me why, I might never have understood what it means to write well. Writing well doesn't always mean pretty passages and lots of words: it means keeping the words that matter, and getting rid of those that are getting in the way of what you're really trying to say.

May 25, 2011

Grammar Girl: Writing Concisely (Part 1)



The most influential writing advice I ever got was also the most frustrating. That advice: "write concisely". I thought my professor was telling me to cut out all my lovely descriptive passages! killing my creative expression! and making my sentences short and lifeless! My students seemed to think so, too. But I made sure to point out to them that writing concisely isn't about brevity. What it is about is this: making every word count.

You know when you hang too many ornaments on your Christmas tree so that when you step back, you can't see the individual elements underneath all the holiday vomit? Some would argue you can get away with it on trees. But not so much in writing. Because too much of a good thing weakens your message, and inevitably the power of your voice is lost. Every word, every paragraph, every scene, every character needs to be adding something of value to your writing. Otherwise it's just beauty and grace hidden underneath a giant blob of tinsel.


Concise writing is something that you can flag-post in the editing process if you're paying attention. My students can usually pick out which sentences aren't "working" in terms of conciseness, but they struggle to pinpoint why. So here are some items that have helped my students (and me) do just that:
  1. Let your subject and verb come closer together. Sometimes moving your actor/agent and your verb closer together (and closer to the beginning of your sentence) will help make your sentences more direct and your emphasis clearer. You see this a lot in the use of passive voice. For example:
"The zombie had its head cut off by me with a long sword." (13 words) Revised: "I cut the zombie's head off with my sword." (9 words)

2. Turn nouns into verbs. Often nominalisation (turning verbs into nouns) makes for weak, confusing sentence structure. Try turning them back into verbs. For example:

"The realization that I had cut off the zombie's head made for the actualization of my dreams." (17) Revised: "I realized that cutting off the zombie's head actualized my dreams." (11)

3. Take our empty words or phrases. This also includes implied knowledge. I can't tell you how many times I crossed "In my opinion", and "all things considered" out of students papers. You know why? Because it's implied. Those phrases add nothing to your sentences. They're tinsel fillers that are taking up precious real estate on your tree. For example:
"In my opinion, Barack Obama still kicks some major ass, all things considered." (13) Revised: "Barack Obama still kicks some major ass." (7 words)

4. Avoid cliches and jargon. Cliches have their place and, sometimes, they can be useful. But they're called cliches because they're tired. They make your reader think, "haven't I read this somewhere before?" Because they have--lots of times. Great if that's what you're going for. Not so good if you're going for 'fresh'. In my opinion, the only place jargon belongs is in political speeches. And it kind of sucks there, too. If you're writing to say what you mean and make that meaning clear, jargon is not your friend. Not in government documents. Not in specialist journals. Nope, not anywhere. For example:

"We continue to stand behind the pillars of democratic values as we look to lift the currency of foreign opinions and esteem." Revised: "... sorry, what?"


May 21, 2011

How To Plot Your Novel (H&S-style)

When I write stories, I don't often know how they end. Or how they middle, for that matter. All I have are specific scenes or characters, and everything I write sort of flows out of those. This method is not one that leads to stunningly-paced and coherent plot lines. My characters do weird things (sometimes twice) that don't make sense in the grander scheme of things. There are weird holes that I can't seem to figure out how to fill. But novels can be such big, unwieldy things. They make it hard to step back and see them simply and honestly. Enter the Health & Safety Spreadsheet.

My Manfriend helped me trial a new kind of plotting procedure. It's what he uses when doing an incident report in which he has to piece together what went wrong in a sequence of events. I'm not going to lie, I was skeptical. It sounded businesslike and un-fun. But I was told there would be colorful Post-its. And there were lots!

The green ones were for major plot details. The blue ones were for important emotions going on in the scene. The pink ones were for incidental happenings that couldn't be classified as 'major events'. I really can't tell you how helpful this process was. I'm pretty visual, so seeing my story laid out in its entirety let me see what was happening too soon, what wasn't happening at all, and what plot points needed strengthening. It helped me realize that some of my scenes were in there because... well, they were pretty. But they weren't serving a function, so off those Post-its came.

I'll definitely be using the Incident Report method again. Just add a bottle of red wine and you've got yourself a pretty fun little party.