I spent 30 years learning how to write and speak with clean, efficient, elegant words. As I went along, I distilled what I learned into a few dozen tips or "rules of thumb." My purpose was to improve my ability to revise and polish my own writing—most of which is nonfiction prose. Later I used these tips to help with radio interviews and speeches.

Genesis
How did I develop these rules? Every time I completed what I thought to be a finished piece of writing I found a teacher, an experienced writer, or an editor to read and comment. I noted their (sometimes caustic) remarks. Looking back, I realize that I was fortunate. Most writers are unable to get good readings for their work. And the five or six women and men who helped me were devoted "professionals," people for whom words and word compositions were life work.

Dozens of books have been produced on writing, rhetoric, grammar. Most are long, complex, profound. Many were written as an exercise in scholarship, to set forth an anatomy of the language, or to fill out a syllabus for classroom use. Some dissect poor writing, detail the mechanical difficulties, and devise drills for the writer to use until the correction has become second nature—impressive tools for those who wish to build writing ability from the ground up.

Tips for Writers takes a different approach. This book is not a massive frontal assault, but a foray—something quick and intuitive. Tips for Writers aims to hit the high spots. It consists of simple instruction for people who want to put their words into action.

Specifically, Tips for Writers is designed to help you edit your writing. It assumes that you have facility with words, are patching together your own reviews, articles, stories, reports, and that you wish to improve the quality of your writing. This book will be most effective if you have a piece of your own writing in hand as you read. I have not designed exercises to support each tip, because I assume that you will apply my suggestions to your own manuscript as you go along.

Words As Weapons
Remember David and Goliath? Before confronting his enemy, the young shepherd refused to don elaborate military gear: the sword, spear, helmet, breastplate. Instead, David grabbed the crude leather sling that he had used over the years to defend his sheep against predators. He selected four smooth stones from a brook, placed them in his shepherd’s pouch, then ran toward his towering opponent.

A military historian might point out that the armament of Goliath which made him impregnable to conventional military attack also restricted his freedom of movement. Goliath, in other words, was a sitting duck, unable to respond to a quickly moving opponent and vulnerable to a well-placed shot.

David surely would have failed had he followed conventional wisdom and adopted the sophisticated approach of knowledgeable military men. He lacked the strength and training required. On the other hand, he succeeded because he trusted simple tools that he had proven in daily use. His weapons were adapted to who he was, not a muscular man but a fleet-footed boy.

Writers would do well to imitate David. We should not be overawed by our opponents, i.e. reviewers, arrogant academy writers, or what writers often think of as the vast, scowling public. We should resist our impulse to adopt complex techniques which we really have no idea how to use. Who are we trying to impress? Instead we need to rely on a few smooth stones, trusted tools that we have used day in and day out.

The men and women who critiqued my work were devoted word workers who had developed a few rules of thumb—rules which they shared with me in the course of their critiques. Some of their comments made no sense and were quickly forgotten. Most, however, have stayed with me. I have made them my own.

It’s my hope that Tips for Writers will inspire readers to create their own trusted word-arsenals.

An Editing Marathon
Tips for Writers also benefits from my experience correcting word errors that are common to our time. In 1995 and 1996 I began a marathon of literary evaluation and editing. I decided to produce a collection of essays by new writers (published in 1997 as An Ear to the Ground: Presenting Writers from 2 Coasts). The book was to have 78 essays, plus 78 brief author profiles—that meant editing 156 pieces of writing by nearly as many different authors.

As I produced An Ear to the Ground, I noted forms of word usage that are popular, yet tend to weaken a piece of writing. After the book was completed we held 66 readings in 16 cities across the country. This gave me an unusual opportunity to see and hear the reaction of the public to different kinds of essays. I came away with some surprising discoveries about good writing, bad writing, and public perception—points that I have shared in the chapter "Fitting Your Heart to Public Taste."

The ETG project began when I advertised a call for essays and was swamped with replies. Many submissions were from talented new writers whose work was rough. I also sought out other writers who were not yet widely known, yet had perfected their craft over years’ time. Their submissions were highly polished and required little or no fine tuning.

I was struck by the contrast. How to bring promising work into shape? I selected the very finest of the rough essays, noted in detail the problems I found, and requested rewrites. Some authors revised their work six or seven times.

When the book was completed and went out into the world I felt naked. Totally. I feared that the public would see every technical flaw. I was surprised to find that readers and reviewers failed to distinguished the pieces that had arrived in my mailbox polished and perfect from those that had come into shape under my encouragement and guidance.

I had to chuckle when a prominent national reviewer insisted that the quality of the essays was uneven and then went on to cite what he judged to be the ten best essays. I noted that six of the ten had come to me in especially rough condition and would have been the first to go had I been more selective.

Of course there is another possibility—one which should give hope to new writers. Perhaps with editing, rough writing can be polished to the point that readers will have a hard time telling the difference.

Technique is a matter of removing distractions. New writers should aim to take their writing to an acceptable level of technical excellence, a threshold, the point where most readers will not be distracted by technical mistakes. That’s a first step and a worthy goal: at this point your writing should be publishable. You should find readers. Your confidence should increase.

Then, remember that excellence is a calling of its own. Go back to work. Refine your technique until it is exceptional.

A Dark Secret
An Ear to the Ground revealed the dark secret of literary publishing: editing can make an enormous difference. I realized that the distinction between seasoned writers and newbies was not great ideas, great images, great creative talent (which are necessary but not sufficient). It was simply that the former had learned to edit their own writing. The latter had not.

As I’ve mentioned above, the purpose of Tips for Writers is to help writers edit. Experienced writers will find useful reminders. For them the book can serve as a tune-up. New writers will find concepts, techniques, and hints that can transform their writing. The need is for steady, patient application of the tips I’ve offered.

A draft of this booklet has been in circulation since 1995. Comments from readers suggest that these rules apply to any medium or situation where we rely on words to communicate.

Why Words Are Important
We work for hours or days on our projects: a paper for school, a proposal at work, a talk to a volunteer organization. Writers may spend years on a piece of creative writing. But, in most cases, our ideas are lost on our audience. Why? Because of many small imprecisions in the way we use words.

The writer must concentrate on reducing to zero the ambient cavitations that are caused by very, very slight misuse or misalignment of words. Each reader has a limited amount of attention to devote to you and your writing. If you waste 40% of the reader’s attention by allowing your words to convey many small miscues, then the reader will have only 60% of her attention left to embrace your glowing conclusion. You need to prepare space in the reader’s mind to accept your meaning.

We may resist critiques of our word usage because we feel that it is who-we-are that is the object of criticism. Not so. What needs correcting are mere technical mistakes that, in many cases, are easily remedied once they have been spotted. Writing, like skiing or golf, involves technique.

A Life of Words
It is easy to write and speak well if you make a habit of listening to words and playing with words. Tips for Writers advocates words as a way of life. Notice words as you read the newspaper, listen to your boss, or wade through a memo at work. Pay special attention to the words of your co-workers. When people talk, distinguish their intended meaning from the literal meaning of their words. Distinguish murky, uneven reality from the word instruments that your associates employ to manipulate that reality.