Writing Non-Fiction
Clean, Effective Articles and Exposition
At the coffee shop where I like to work in the mornings, you can get whatever you want for breakfast, as long as it’s either a scramble, or an omelet. I tease them, “Can I choose which one?” See, in my house, you ask for an omelet, and you might get an omelet, or, if things aren’t going as well, you might get a scramble. Same eggs and cream, same veggies and cheese, but in the end, an entirely different shape.
A Scramble or an Omelet?
The difference between me, at home on my iron skillet, and the chef with his professional equipment, is two-fold. First, he has an expensive non-stick skillet, just perfect for making omelets. Second, he has practiced using that skillet, until his method is almost fool-proof.
Writing the Perfect Omelet
A shiny new skillet won’t help you. For expository writing, you need a different sort of tool: the outline.
Don’t panic, now. This isn’t eighth grade, and you don’t have to use roman numerals. That’s not the point of an outline anyway.
An outline helps you clarify your thinking, and figure out exactly what you want to cover in your article. It will give your final article a logical structure and flow, making it much easier for the reader to follow. And it will improve the editing and re-write process, because you can see relationships between sections clearly, and move things around when necessary.
How to Create an Outline
Creating the outline is all about organizing your thoughts. Once that’s done, writing it down is a simple matter. So, to get your thinking in order, start by answering these questions:
- Who is the intended audience for this article?
- Why am I writing it? What’s my purpose?
- In a sentence or so, what is it I want to say? (This is your thesis statement.)
Once you have clarified for yourself why you are writing, who you are writing for, and what you have to say, you can begin putting the ideas in order.
All pets must be spayed or neutered.
1. There are a lot of kittens born every year.
2. Almost all are unwanted.
3.Feral cats spread disease…
Write your thesis statement at the top of a page. Then, below that, make a list of points you want to be sure to cover. You do not need to be specific yet.
Now spend some time adding details. (Kittens born where? In the world? In Chicago?) You might want to research facts that you haven’t checked out yet. (How many kittens, exactly?) You can note areas where you’d like to include a quote from an expert, or a graph. If you are using a word-processor like Word or OpenOffice.org, you will find it easy to move things around, and add more information to each section as you think it through. (Learning to use the outline feature of your word-processor will pay off in the long run. But I’ll leave that for another article.)
As you add the details, the logical structure will take shape. You’ll notice areas where you want to talk about a particular facet of your topic, but haven’t given the background information yet. It’s very straightforward, at that point, to slide things around until the flow makes sense.
An outline can really make a difference in how your article comes together, and how much stress you experience while writing it. It will also improve the reaction you get from editors and potential publishers. Clear logic, distinctive sections, and complete thought processes make your article more inviting and more readable, for everyone from the editor and publisher to the reader who finds it and decides to dive in to see what you have to say.
Subscribe to the comments for this postWhat Counts as Correct English?
The Conspiracy
Editors get a bad rap. When I meet someone new and mention that I’m an editor, I’m likely to get a suspicious look, as though I’m part of a conspiracy to make English too difficult to leave to amateurs. I’ll hear comments about undecipherable, rigid rules, followed by a stream of excuses or complaints (or a mixture thereof).
Few of the rules contained in this book are inviolable. — The Chicago Manual of Style
Of course, there exist bureaucratic editors, on a mission to ensure that no one who breaks a rule be allowed to live in peace. Most of us, though, subscribe to a different ethic. We are here to make writing clearer, and we use the rules to serve that end.
Toward Consistency and Clarity
Rules
The rules of English were not written by a committee. They developed naturally, and they are complex. A style manual, such as the The Chicago Manual of Style, AP Stylebook, or even The Elements of Style by Strunk and White, is simply a book in which someone, or some group, has tried to collect those rules for reference. I think of it more as an encyclopedia or a dictionary than as a list of commandments. It is descriptive, rather than prescriptive.
Describing English Usage
The manual’s usefulness, then, is in describing how English is typically used. It is not a law-book, but rather a guide. Only when something is awkward or unclear to we resort to checking the rules.
But did I really say “how English is typically used”? I did, but I don’t mean the way it is used at your local mall. I mean the way it is used by the whole community of English speakers, from New York to Idaho, to Australia, England, and South Africa. From philosophers, both dead and alive, to rappers, and the people at your local mall.
To be understood by all literate English speakers (with an adequate vocabulary) is the writer’s goal, and the editor helps to reach that goal. Correct English is the English that makes that possible.
Remember to always split infinitives.
Remember to always split infinitiives.
Well, ok, not always. But often. Whenever it works.
We have this handed-down wisdom that says an infinitive, a verb of the “to form” — to walk, to amble, to mosey — must always be preserved intact. Rules like this cripple writing. Even the esteemed editors of the Chicago Manual of Style agree with me.
In this day and age, it seems, an injunction against splitting infinitives is one of those shibboleths whose only reason for survival is to give increased meaning to the lives of those who can both identify by name a discrete grammatical, syntactic, or orthographic entity and notice when that entity has been somehow besmirched. — Chicago Manual Q&A
Concern yourself first with clarity and a pleasing sound. We do need grammar rules, but only when they help us achieve those things. When they get in the way, they should be ignored.
Avoid Passive Voice
Why was the road crossed by the chicken?
When a sentence starts with the thing being acted upon rather than the thing doing the acting, that sentence is in “passive voice.” For example, if you ask me where the hat is that you lent me, and I reply, “It got lost,” I have used the passive voice. A more honest and direct answer, using the active voice, would have been “I lost it.” Read more »
Samurai Editing
It’s said that a good editor is like a samurai. Proficient with both the pen and the sword, he—can’t really call a samurai “she,” can I?—slices with precision, but without hesitation. And slicing is the first step in editing your manuscript. Read more »
Show, Don’t Tell
An exasperated author I know once wrote back to me saying, “Yeah, everybody says that: ’show, don’t tell.’ But I can’t figure out what they mean! How do I know which is which?” Read more »
Give Your Story A Great Beginning
When you sit down to write, anything you can get on the screen (or paper) is a victory. That’s not the time to worry about making sure you have a powerful beginning. Too much of that kind of thinking can keep you from getting anywhere at all. Read more »
The First Five Pages, by Noah Lukeman
When I’m looking over a manuscript that’s been submitted to me for publication, the first thing I do is read the first five pages. At that point, I might toss it, or I might decide to read more. Apparently I’m not the only editor to take this approach.
Noah Lukeman is a successful literary agent, with plenty of experience rejecting manuscripts. In The First Five Pages he shares that experience with the reader, giving good advice about how a manuscript can be improved in the revision process to make it more likely to be accepted. If you’re thinking of doing your own editing, read this first.
Woe Is I, by Patricia O’Connor
"There are two kinds of editors. One sticks in that wherever it will fit. The other kind takes it out. They’re both wrong." — P. T. O’Connor
Woe is I is subtitled “The Grammarphobe’s Guide to Better English in Plain English,” and I can’t describe it better than that. O’Connor solves many of the stranger mysteries of English (”He resents me going” or “He resents my going”?) without resorting to the vocabulary of a high-school English teacher. Read more »
Getting the Words Right, by Theodore R. A. Cheney
"A merely good piece of description can be transformed into a memorable one by cutting away what disguises it." — T.R.A. Cheney
Getting the Words Right is full of detailed explanations of how revision can improve a piece of writing. I’m especially fond of the first section, "Reduce". Read more »
