TUESDAY, APRIL 24, 2007

Fifty Writing Tools: Quick List

Use this quick list of Writing Tools as a handy reference. Copy it and keep it in your wallet or journal, or near your desk or keyboard. Share it and add to it.

I. Nuts and Bolts

1. Begin sentences with subjects and verbs.
Make meaning early, then let weaker elements branch to the right.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

2. Order words for emphasis.
Place strong words at the beginning and at the end.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

3. Activate your verbs.
Strong verbs create action, save words, and reveal the players.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

4. Be passive-aggressive.
Use passive verbs to showcase the "victim" of action.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

5. Watch those adverbs.
Use them to change the meaning of the verb.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

6. Take it easy on the -ings.
Prefer the simple present or past.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

7. Fear not the long sentence.
Take the reader on a journey of language and meaning.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

8. Establish a pattern, then give it a twist.
Build parallel constructions, but cut across the grain.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

9. Let punctuation control pace and space.
Learn the rules, but realize you have more options than you think.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

10. Cut big, then small.
Prune the big limbs, then shake out the dead leaves.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

II. Special Effects

11. Prefer the simple over the technical.
Use shorter words, sentences and paragraphs at points of complexity.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

12. Give key words their space.
Do not repeat a distinctive word unless you intend a specific effect.
PODCAST: Listen| Download | Drag to iTunes

13. Play with words, even in serious stories.
Choose words the average writer avoids but the average reader understands.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

14. Get the name of the dog.
Dig for the concrete and specific, details that appeal to the senses.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

15. Pay attention to names.
Interesting names attract the writer – and the reader.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

16. Seek original images.
Reject clichés and first-level creativity.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

17. Riff on the creative language of others.
Make word lists, free-associate, be surprised by language.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

18. Set the pace with sentence length.
Vary sentences to influence the reader's speed.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

19. Vary the lengths of paragraphs.
Go short or long -- or make a "turn"-- to match your intent.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

20. Choose the number of elements with a purpose in mind.
One, two, three, or four: Each sends a secret message to the reader.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

21. Know when to back off and when to show off.
When the topic is most serious, understate; when least serious, exaggerate.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

22. Climb up and down the ladder of abstraction.
Learn when to show, when to tell, and when to do both.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

23. Tune your voice.
Read drafts aloud.
PODCAST: Listen | Download | Drag to iTunes

III. Blueprints

24. Work from a plan.
Index the big parts of your work.

25. Learn the difference between reports and stories.
Use one to render information, the other to render experience.

26. Use dialogue as a form of action.
Dialogue advances narrative; quotes delay it.

27. Reveal traits of character.
Show character-istics through scenes, details, and dialogue.

28. Put odd and interesting things next to each other.
Help the reader learn from contrast.

29. Foreshadow dramatic events or powerful conclusions.
Plant important clues early.

30. To generate suspense, use internal cliffhangers.
To propel readers, make them wait.

31. Build your work around a key question.
Good stories need an engine, a question the action answers for the reader.

32. Place gold coins along the path.
Reward the reader with high points, especially in the middle.

33. Repeat, repeat, repeat.
Purposeful repetition links the parts.

34. Write from different cinematic angles.
Turn your notebook into a "camera."

35. Report and write for scenes.
Then align them in a meaningful sequence.

36. Mix narrative modes.
Combine story forms using the "broken line."

37. In short pieces of writing, don't waste a syllable.
Shape shorter works with wit and polish.

38. Prefer archetypes to stereotypes.
Use subtle symbols, not crashing cymbals.

39. Write toward an ending.
Help readers close the circle of meaning.

IV. Useful Habits

40. Draft a mission statement for your work.
To sharpen your learning, write about your writing.

41. Turn procrastination into rehearsal.
Plan and write it first in your head.

42. Do your homework well in advance.
Prepare for the expected -- and unexpected.

43. Read for both form and content.
Examine the machinery beneath the text.

44. Save string.
For big projects, save scraps others would toss.

45. Break long projects into parts.
Then assemble the pieces into something whole.

46. Take interest in all crafts that support your work.
To do your best, help others do their best.

47. Recruit your own support group.
Create a corps of helpers for feedback.

48. Limit self-criticism in early drafts.
Turn it loose during revision.

49. Learn from your critics.
Tolerate even unreasonable criticism.

50. Own the tools of your craft.
Build a writing workbench to store your tools.

To purchase a copy of "Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies for Every Writer," visit your local or online bookstore or click here (as an Amazon affiliate, Poynter will receive a small cut of the profit). You can contact the author at: [log in to unmask].

Posted at 1:13:11 PM

MONDAY, APRIL 23, 2007

Need some writing adrenaline? Dial 007.

When my writing needs an adrenaline shot, I pick up an old Ian Fleming novel and read an original adventure of British secret agent James Bond -- 007. (My definition of a bad copy editor, by the way, would be the one who would have called Bond '7,' no need for those redundant double 0's.)

I first read Fleming in the early 1960s, when the movies began their epic run. The books -- if you can ignore some dated ethnic stereotypes -- has a quality that appeals to me. The prose is both literary and lurid, appealing to multiple sensibilities at the same time, the way that Shakespeare could play to poetry-loving aristocrats or to the groundlings for the bawdy humor or bloody swordplay.

On my brother's recommendation, I picked up my old copy of "Casino Royale" and read it to compare and contrast it to the story line in the recent Bond movie. Although set in a different time period, the movie follows the script of the book with surprising fidelity.

I also enjoy reading Fleming because his writing strategies are close to the surface of the text, thus easy to decipher. Here are three paragraphs in which Bond muses about his relationship to the beautiful and mysterious Vesper Lynd:

He found he could speak to her easily, and he was surprised.

With most women his manner was a mixture of taciturnity and passion. The lengthy approaches to a seduction bored him almost as much as the subsequent mess of disentanglement. He found something grisly in the inevitability of the pattern of each affair. The conventional parabola -- sentiment, the touch of the hand, the kiss, the passionate kiss, the feel of the body, the climax in the bed, then more bed, then less bed, then the boredom, the tears, and the final bitterness -- was to him shameful and hypocritical. Even more he shunned the mise-en-scene for each of these acts in the play -- the meeting at a party, the restaurant, the taxi, his flat, her flat, then the week-end by the sea, then the flats again, then the furtive alibis and the final angry farewell on some doorstep in the rain.

But with Vesper there could be none of this.

Here's what I notice:

• The interesting pace that comes from a long paragraph, framed by two short ones.

• The great movement in that long paragraph from the abstract to the concrete, from the general to the specific. Just when we think we're stuck in the ozone of "taciturnity" or "inevitability," the prose dives back toward earth with mundane phrases like "then less bed" or "his flat, her flat."

• A vocabulary that varies from sophisticated and technical words such as "parabola" or "mis-en-scene" to Anglo-Saxon monosyllables such as "kiss," "bed," and "rain."

• The acceleration of time in that long paragraph that comes from long sentences that fly across the narrative details of a standard romantic relationship between spy and lover.

What else do you see here that appeals to you?

Posted at 4:20:24 PM

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 18, 2007

How does a detail make meaning?

I've been thinking of this question after a chance encounter at a Subway restaurant. I stood behind a young woman in line, studied her, and raced back to Poynter with a tuna sandwich and scribbled this down:

She wore black, the telltale uniform of a local fashion institute, and her hair was copper -- a strong vote for art over nature. Her arms were thin and pale, and I could see a crude tattoo on the inside of her left forearm -- a red heart with this script inside: "Too sad to give a fuck."

She didn't look sad.

She ordered a meatball sub and asked the kid behind the counter to slather it with mayo, a combination I associate with a hearty appetite and an indifferent imagination. Mayo on your meatballs means you're probably not sad, but that, in truth, when it comes to your stomach, you don't give a flying flip.

That's not a story. It's just scratching. A writing exercise. A little practice. A way to remember.

But it has led me back to this question: How does a detail make meaning? What does the detail of the tattoo mean, and what is my responsibility as a writer to help the reader find the meaning?

I invite you to help me answer these questions:

• In what kind of a story would the detail of the tattoo have meaning?

• What kinds of reporting would you need to satisfy yourself that it has meaning?

• Could you describe her tattoo without using the f-word?

• What questions would you ask her?

If her tattoo was in plain sight (as it was), would you feel free using it in your story without asking her about it, the way you might not ask about her clothing or hair color? Or is the detail too "prejudicial," as they might argue in a courtroom.

Please help me figure this out. 

Posted at 5:34:45 PM

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