{"id":91,"date":"2018-08-20T22:36:38","date_gmt":"2018-08-20T22:36:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/richardcolby.net\/adventures\/?page_id=91"},"modified":"2018-09-28T12:20:51","modified_gmt":"2018-09-28T18:20:51","slug":"concision","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/richardcolby.net\/adventures\/techniques\/concision\/","title":{"rendered":"Concision"},"content":{"rendered":"

We all write too many words. A large part of that is that we write to make sense of something, and that usually takes fumbling around with words until we get something where we think it needs to be. Then, we refuse to \u201cmurder our darlings<\/a>\u201d (Quiller-Couch) because writing is hard and we don\u2019t want to delete our work. However, if we leave everything in, then we are often left with a bit of a mess. I like to compare it to constructing a building. By refusing to cut our messy process that got us to the good parts, we are refusing to take the scaffolding down. If we were building the Statue of Liberty, we would need scaffolding during the construction:<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

But we don\u2019t want the finished product to look like this:<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Finding what to cut is often the job of your readers. A good peer review can let you know what is too much (and what you might need to add). However, most popular writing should be focused and short\u2014save the extra stuff for the next project (I usually keep two files when working on a project. The first is the draft, and the second is a document filled with bits and pieces that were excised from that draft in case I need them for something).<\/p>\n

General advice to cut is helpful, but not all that specific. Here is an excerpt from William Zinsser\u2019s On Writing Well<\/em>. I want to pause a bit on qualifications, however. Zinsser is writing from a tradition that emphasizes straightforward, nonfiction prose. It\u2019s good advice, and leads to lean and clear writing. Yet, in academic writing, qualifications (probability words like \u201coften,\u201d \u201csometimes,\u201d \u201cmaybe\u201d) acknowledges difference, and that\u2019s a good thing as well. To make a claim with a qualification is to recognize that not everybody or every condition or every situation calls for the claim being made. You can overuse qualifications, especially those for overemphasis (stay away from \u201cvery,\u201d \u201calways,\u201d \u201creally\u201d), but recognize that just cutting qualification limits your perspective.<\/p>\n

OK, on to Zinsser:<\/p>\n

ADVERBS<\/strong><\/p>\n

Most adverbs are unnecessary. You will clutter your sentence and annoy the reader if you choose a verb that has a specific meaning and then add an adverb that carries the same meaning. Don\u2019t tell us that the radio blared loudly; \u201cblare\u201d connotes loudness. Don\u2019t write that someone clenched his teeth tightly; there\u2019s no other way to clench teeth. Again and again in careless writing, strong verbs are weakened by redundant adverbs. So are adjectives and other parts of speech: \u201ceffortlessly easy,\u201d \u201cslightly spartan,\u201d \u201ctotally flabbergasted.\u201d The beauty of \u201cflabbergasted\u201d is that it implies an astonishment that is total; I can\u2019t picture someone being partly flabbergasted. If an action is so easy as to be effortless, use \u201ceffortless.\u201d And what is \u201cslightly spartan\u201d? Perhaps a monk\u2019s cell with wall-to-wall carpeting. Don\u2019t use adverbs unless they do necessary work. Spare us the news that the winning athlete grinned widely.<\/p>\n

And while we\u2019re at it, let\u2019s retire \u201cdecidedly\u201d and all its slippery cousins. Every day I see in the paper that some situations are decidedly better and others are decidedly worse, but I never know how decided the improvement is, or who did the deciding, just as I never know how eminent a result is that\u2019s eminently fair, or whether to believe a fact that\u2019s arguably true. \u201cHe\u2019s arguably the best pitcher on the Mets,\u201d the preening sportswriter writes, aspiring to Parnassus, which Red Smith reached by never using words like \u201carguably.\u201d Is the pitcher\u2014it can be proved by argument\u2014the best pitcher on the team? If so, please omit \u201carguably.\u201d Or is he perhaps<\/em>\u2014the opinion is open to argument\u2014the best pitcher? Admittedly I don\u2019t know. It\u2019s virtually a toss-up.<\/p>\n

ADJECTIVES<\/strong><\/p>\n

Most adjectives are also unnecessary. Like adverbs, they are sprinkled into sentences by writers who don\u2019t stop to think that the concept is already in the noun. This kind of prose is littered with precipitous cliffs and lacy spiderwebs, or with adjectives denoting the color of an object whose color is well known: yellow daffodils and brownish dirt. If you want to make a value judgment about daffodils, choose an adjective like \u201cgarish.\u201d If you\u2019re in a part of the country where the dirt is red, feel free to mention the red dirt. Those adjectives would do a job that the noun alone wouldn\u2019t be doing.<\/p>\n

Most writers sow adjectives almost unconsciously into the soil of their prose to make it more lush and pretty, and the sentences become longer and longer as they fill up with stately elms and frisky kittens and hard-bitten detectives and sleepy lagoons. This is adjective-by-habit\u2014a habit you should get rid of. Not every oak has to be gnarled. The adjective that exists solely as decoration is a self-indulgence for the writer and a burden for the reader.<\/p>\n

Again, the rule is simple: make your adjectives do work that needs to be done. \u201cHe looked at the gray sky and the black clouds and decided to sail back to the harbor.\u201d The darkness of the sky and the clouds is the reason for the decision. If it\u2019s important to tell the reader that a house was drab or a girl was beautiful, by all means use \u201cdrab\u201d and \u201cbeautiful.\u201d They will have their proper power because you have learned to use adjectives sparsely.<\/p>\n

LITTLE QUALIFIERS<\/strong><\/p>\n

Prune out the small words that qualify how you feel and how you think and what you saw: \u201ca bit,\u201d \u201ca little,\u201d \u201csort of,\u201d \u201ckind of,\u201d \u201crather,\u201d \u201cquite,\u201d \u201cvery,\u201d \u201ctoo,\u201d \u201cpretty much,\u201d \u201cin a sense\u201d and dozens more. They dilute your style and your persuasiveness.<\/p>\n

Don\u2019t say you were a bit confused and sort of tired and a little depressed and somewhat annoyed. Be confused. Be tired. Be depressed. Be annoyed. Don\u2019t hedge your prose with little timidities. Good writing is lean and confident.<\/p>\n

Don\u2019t say you weren\u2019t too happy because the hotel was pretty expensive. Say you weren\u2019t happy because the hotel was expensive. Don\u2019t tell us you were quite fortunate. How fortunate is that? Don\u2019t describe an event as rather spectacular or very awesome. Words like \u201cspectacular\u201d and \u201cawesome\u201d don\u2019t submit to measurement. \u201cVery\u201d is a useful word to achieve emphasis, but far more often it\u2019s clutter. There\u2019s no need to call someone very methodical. Either he is methodical or he isn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

The large point is one of authority. Every little qualifier whittles away some fraction of the reader\u2019s trust. Readers want a writer who believes in themself and in what they are saying. Don\u2019t diminish that belief. Don\u2019t be kind of bold. Be bold.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

We all write too many words. A large part of that is that we write to make sense of something, Continue Reading<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":105,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"class_list":["post-91","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry","no-post-thumbnail","no-read-more-tag","no-sticky","entry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/richardcolby.net\/adventures\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/91","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/richardcolby.net\/adventures\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/richardcolby.net\/adventures\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/richardcolby.net\/adventures\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/richardcolby.net\/adventures\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=91"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/richardcolby.net\/adventures\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/91\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":557,"href":"http:\/\/richardcolby.net\/adventures\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/91\/revisions\/557"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/richardcolby.net\/adventures\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/105"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/richardcolby.net\/adventures\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=91"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}