In On Writing Well, William Zinsser argues that anyone can learn the craft of writing by practicing the fundamentals of simplicity, clarity, and identity. Zinsser—a writer and professor of creative nonfiction—primarily applies these principles to nonfiction writing, but his ideas extend to other disciplines as well.
Published in 1976, On Writing Well breaks down the principles of good writing and common problems writers encounter in their craft. Zinsser’s advice is helpful for writers of all skill levels, even those who just want to write a better memo or email.
In this guide, we’ll first discuss simplicity and how to achieve it by eliminating clutter and choosing precise words. Then we’ll explore how to achieve clarity through logic and consistency. We’ll also discuss your writing identity and how to make tasteful creative choices. Finally, we’ll discuss common creative nonfiction writing genres.
Simplicity means your writing is easy to understand because it uses common and precise words as well as simple sentence structures.
(Shortform note: Zinsser’s belief in simple writing may have been influenced by Dr. Rudolf Flesch, who was a popular literacy expert throughout the mid-1900s. He advocated for short and straightforward writing, contending that it improved reading comprehension. His writings on the subject influenced the minimalist writing and editing style of the 20th century. Flesch even created literacy tests to assess the simplicity of a written passage through a combination of word length and sentence length.)
To write simply, follow these guidelines:
To avoid confusing your reader, write with smaller, more common words. Zinsser believes that a good rule of thumb is to write like you talk since we generally don’t use words with more than three or four syllables. If you wouldn’t say “pulchritudinous” in conversation with a friend, reconsider using it in your writing.
(Shortform note: Some writing experts offer another reason for using common words: People don’t appreciate feeling illiterate. They argue that writers who use complex words appear to be “showing off” and advise writers to get out of this habit. Researchers support this idea, citing overcomplicated writing and flowery language as a common reason manuscripts are rejected.)
Simplifying your writing makes your meaning clearer with fewer words. To achieve simplicity, Zinsser advises choosing the best word to suit your meaning and tone. The best word is the one that accurately encapsulates the idea you want to convey. One precise word can do the job of three or four vague words.
Zinsser encourages writers to use a thesaurus and a dictionary when choosing words. Look up synonyms to words in your thesaurus, and use your dictionary to compare the nuances between their meanings. For example, you could describe the sun as “hot,” but also consider writing “boiling” or “scorching.” One word might offer more nuance or meaning than the others, thus making it a better choice.
(Shortform note: While Zinsser encourages both simple and precise word choices, sometimes the most precise word isn’t the simplest or most natural. For example, “susurration” might be more precise, but “murmur” is the simpler choice. Stephen King believes that while an advanced vocabulary can lead to good writing, it isn’t a requirement for it. In your writing, make sure you’re not compromising simplicity by using a more precise—and more complex—word. Instead, find a balance between simplicity and precision, and use words that feel most natural to you.)
Zinsser also recommends writing with straightforward sentence structures. A simple sentence structure clearly conveys the subject of the sentence and the action the subject is performing. These sentences are easier for readers to follow than a complex sentence structure with, for example, many clauses or references to different ideas, time periods, events, and so on.
(Shortform note: There may be a scientific reason to use simpler sentence constructions. While researchers don’t know everything about how the human brain understands sentence meaning, some experts believe that we speed up the processing of simple sentences since our brains can more easily predict where the sentence is going.)
Zinsser argues that writing in active voice is the easiest way to construct straightforward sentences. Active voice describes a subject performing an action: For example, “John will drive my car.” This differs from passive voice, which describes an event or action that happens to someone: For example, “My car will be driven by John.” Active voice is simpler, more direct, and less cluttered than passive voice, which is wordy and indirect.
When Should You Use Passive Voice?
As Zinsser implies, voice refers to the relationship between a verb and the subject and object it’s associated with. Only use passive voice when the object—not the subject—of the sentence is the focus. Rather than highlighting the subject at the beginning of the sentence using active voice, passive voice flips the sentence around, focusing on the “what,” not the “who” that did the “what.”
For instance, lawyers defending someone who committed a crime might use passive voice to intentionally be less direct about the actions of their defendant. For example, instead of saying “Mr. Smith robbed the bank,” a lawyer might say, “The bank was robbed.” Passive voice obscures the focus of who robbed the bank and reframes the sentence onto the object—the bank—of the robbing.
Zinsser asserts that simple writing can’t have clutter. Clutter is a word or phrase that takes up space but doesn’t add meaning to your sentence. Zinsser believes that it’s your job as a writer to carefully select the right words and delete clutter—this is part of what makes writing a craft. To eliminate clutter from your writing, delete any indirect, wordy, or redundant words and phrases, such as adverbs and euphemisms. Replace these words or phrases with a more succinct term.
(Shortform note: If you’re struggling to delete clutter, try using an online editor like the Hemingway App. This tool highlights hard-to-read sentences, adverbs, passive voice, and other ways your writing may sound confusing. It also lets you evaluate your writing and make thoughtful changes. But be careful not to rely exclusively on these kinds of tools—they shouldn’t be a crutch. Rather, they should help you develop a keener eye for words that aren’t doing necessary work.)
While you should strive to write with simplicity, don’t expect your first draft to be perfect—there will be clutter and imprecise words in your draft. To achieve simplicity, Zinsser recommends embracing rewriting, or the act of improving what you’ve already written. By rewriting, you’ll find better, simplified ways of expressing your ideas.
Zinsser explains that to rewrite, use your first draft as a guide, and restructure confusing sentences. Delete clutter, and rephrase words or sentences that could be more succinct.
Additionally, test the simplicity of your writing by reading your work out loud. Reading your writing out loud will indicate which sentences need reworking. If you trip over words or phrases, it’s a sign to rewrite it more simply.
Try Stephen King’s Revision Process
If you’re having difficulty rewriting—and most writers do—don’t get discouraged. In On Writing, Stephen King outlines his revision process from beginning to end:
1) After you finish your first draft, King suggests taking at least six weeks to work on other pieces before you start rewriting your draft. During this time, resist the temptation to read your draft. The point is to distance yourself from the draft, so you can be a more objective critic when you revise.
2) After six weeks, read the draft in one sitting, if possible. Note fixes for specific issues, like deleting adverbs. Also ask yourself big-picture questions. What is the piece about? Is there a theme? Are there recurring elements? Is the story coherent?
3) Go back through and revise for your second draft. Fix small issues and polish your big picture ideas.
4) After you finish, give the second draft to a small group of readers you trust. Listen to their feedback. Incorporate the feedback as you like. The result can be your next draft, or even your final draft.
5) Use however many revision cycles you’re comfortable with. King’s standard process takes two drafts and a final polish.
The next time you sit down to rewrite, consider using King’s process.
Once you’ve achieved simplicity in wording and structuring your sentences, focus on bringing clarity to your writing. Clarity occurs when you logically explain your idea to a reader. Zinsser believes that it’s your job as a writer to guide the reader through your thought process rather than forcing them to dissect disorganized or underdeveloped writing.
Zinsser believes that to write clearly, you must clearly understand the topic you’re writing about. If you don’t understand the topic, you’ll never be able to explain it well to your reader.
Occam’s Razor and Writing
Another way to think of Zinsser’s idea of clarity is through the principle of Occam’s razor. This is the idea that the simplest solution is often the best one. In writing, this means you should discard as much unnecessary information as possible and just stick to the essential facts. To apply this principle, keep these four questions in mind:
What’s your central message?
What’s the best structure to communicate this message?
What background does the audience need to know?
How long should each point or topic be?
To answer these questions in a useful way, you need to fully understand the material you’re writing about.
To write with clarity, follow a logical sequence of ideas. Each sentence should build off of the idea in the previous sentence. To lead your reader to your next thought, Zinsser recommends anticipating what the reader will ask and answering their question in the next sentence. Constantly ask yourself, “What is the next thing the reader needs to know?” Then answer that question in the next sentence rather than repeating the previous sentence in a different way.
(Shortform note: Truly logical writing answers a reader’s questions before they have a chance to ask them. To make your writing more logical, experts recommend this general formula: state each idea, provide evidence for that idea, and draw a clear connection to the conclusion. This formula works for any kind of argument or proposal. But the formula can also be applied to creative nonfiction like memoirs or travel writing. Your evidence will probably come in the form of the detail you give the reader to back up your claims. For example, instead of just stating someone’s name and occupation, you could describe their uniform. This description would provide evidence to support the idea of their occupation.)
Consistency, or what Zinsser calls unity, is when certain key elements of your writing stay the same throughout your writing, even as your idea develops. Zinsser believes consistency eliminates unwanted confusion because your reader won’t have to keep up with unnecessary changes in your writing. Keep these three elements consistent throughout your writing:
Zinsser explains that while you can take some artistic liberty with your writing, you have to stick with whatever decisions you make. As you write, you can change your mind, but make sure that change is reflected throughout the rest of your writing. For example, you may start writing a piece in third person, only to decide midway through that you think first person would work better. It’s okay to change your mind, but be sure to go back and change the parts you’ve already written in third person to first person.
(Shortform note: Zinsser points out the importance of consistency with big decisions like tone, main idea, tense, and point of view. But it’s also important to be consistent for small decisions like punctuation and spelling. To ensure consistency in writing, some publications and businesses adhere to a style guide. Some of the more common style guides are AP style, Chicago style, APA style, and MLA style. You can use these guides as a reference to answer certain consistency questions about spelling, word hyphenation, punctuation, and more.)
Zinsser’s third principle of good writing is identity, or what makes your writing unique to you. It’s the specific style and personality that you as an individual bring to your writing. Zinsser explains that identity is a writer’s most recognizable quality to a reader. If a reader likes your identity and the way you tell stories, they’ll read more of your writing because they’re interested in what you have to say and how you say it. Zinsser argues that identity will determine whether or not readers like you as a writer.
Identity also differentiates your writing from other writers. Due to identity, two writers can tell the same story in two completely different ways. While one way isn’t superior to the other, a reader will have a preference for one style over the other. Having a recognizable writing identity influences whether or not a reader chooses to read your work when they could read someone else’s.
Elements of Identity
Zinsser explains identity as putting your personality on paper, but this may be easier said than done. While identity can be hard to define, experts do outline a few factors that contribute to a writer’s individual style.
Punctuation: Some writers make certain stylistic choices with their punctuation. For example, Sally Rooney is known for her omission of quotation marks.
Sensory details: This is imagery that uses the senses: sight, smell, taste, touch, hearing, as well as kinesthetic sensations. Some writers prefer certain sensory details over others. For example, Chuck Palahniuk frequently describes smells in his writing.
Figurative language, such as metaphors and similes: This is another stylistic device to add detail and connect ideas. The way you connect ideas is unique to you and thus your writing identity.
Sound devices, such as alliteration and onomatopoeia: Just like the cadence of your speaking voice, the sound of your sentences can sound like you too.
Zinsser believes identity is your personality and style revealing itself through words. While writing like yourself should eventually feel effortless, Zinsser offers these tips for finding your writing identity:
To write in your unique style, start by writing for yourself. Zinsser explains that your identity will shine through when you write about things that you want to write about. Or ask yourself what you want to read, and write about that. By letting your interests direct your writing topic, you’ll be more passionate when writing about it.
(Shortform note: In On Writing, Stephen King offers a different perspective, suggesting that you keep one reader in mind as you write: your Ideal Reader. Your Ideal Reader is usually the one person whose opinion you trust above all. You come to know your Ideal Reader’s tastes so well you can predict how he or she will feel about any particular thing you’re writing. The Ideal Reader helps give you an audience as you write rather than writing strictly for yourself, as Zinsser recommends. The Ideal Reader should also be an honest reviewer—supportive but unrelenting. You might disagree with Ideal Reader’s feedback, but you know there’s truth to it.)
Once you find a topic you’re passionate about, write about it from your own perspective, or in first person. Zinsser explains that since we generally speak in first person, writing with “I” should feel natural. Avoid trying to tell a story through someone else’s eyes because it will place a barrier between your thoughts and your natural writing voice.
(Shortform note: If you’re still struggling to connect to your writing or topic, try practicing your skills of observation and reflection through “wakewalking” (as opposed to sleepwalking), which is a kind of meditation for writers. To wakewalk, take a walk outside and name things you see, such as a tree, rock, or stream. Then describe one of these things using all five of your senses. As you interact with the object, write down your internal feelings about it. It might stir up an old emotion or memory, or you might find a new way to describe it. By wakewalking, you can practice relating to the world and writing about the connections you make.)
Zinsser advises against changing your voice from piece to piece. Writing in your own voice will help you develop your identity since you’ll be consistently practicing writing in your unique voice. Eventually, your voice will come to you immediately and naturally when you write. Readers will also recognize you by your writing identity.
(Shortform note: Many bloggers’ success stems from developing a signature writing voice that readers instantly recognize. For example, readers recognize Mark Manson for his unashamed use of curse words, his storytelling, and his way of writing to the reader like a friend. Manson’s blog quickly gained a large following, so when he published The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck, he already had a dedicated audience who was interested in his writing style and what he had to say.)
Zinsser recommends reading writers with great taste to study what those creative decisions look like. Then write as they write. They’re your favorite writers for good reason, so take the time to mirror their techniques and find what works for you. Don’t be afraid of copying them—Zinsser believes you’ll eventually graduate into your own unique voice.
(Shortform note: In Steal Like an Artist, Austin Kleon echoes Zinsser’s advice to take inspiration from great art and artists in any medium—doing so will help you create better art. Kleon recommends studying one artist, her work, and what you like about her work. Kleon believes that by copying your mentor’s work and creative process, you’ll create something new. The ways in which you’re different from your creative mentor will reveal your unique strengths and develop your taste. You’ll inevitably fail to create a perfect copy of your mentor’s work since it’s personal to her and her tastes—just as your work will be personal to you.)
Zinsser focuses on improving the craft of writing—specifically, nonfiction writing. To write better nonfiction, first dispel the myth that nonfiction is boring. Some people have the misconception that nonfiction writing is uncreative, especially when compared to fiction. But Zinsser contends that this isn’t true. Nonfiction writing allows us to creatively explore the truth of everyday life and the experience of being human.
The benefit to writing nonfiction is that you have many people, places, and lives to draw inspiration from without the pressure of creating fictional characters, places, or events. Zinsser encourages writers to be interested in new ideas and experiences because these will give you more engaging topics to write about.
(Shortform note: Experts expand on Zinsser’s idea that nonfiction can be as creative and engaging as fiction, contending that the line between fiction and nonfiction can be a blurry one. There are many fictional stories based heavily on real events, and there are many nonfiction stories that take liberties with the definition of “truth.” For example, The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien discusses the narrator’s (whose name is also Tim O’Brien) experience in the Vietnam War—yet the book is classified as historical fiction. Thus one main difference between the genres is whether the writer categorizes the work as fiction or nonfiction, thus drawing their own line between fiction and nonfiction.)
By writing simply, clearly, and in your own voice, you’ll have the skills to write in any genre. But writing engaging nonfiction also has its challenges. Zinsser discusses eight specific genres of nonfiction and common problems writers face when writing in these genres.
Zinsser encourages writers to include interviews incorporating direct quotes and information from another person into their pieces. By including someone else’s perspective in their own words—not yours—your writing will have more humanity and be more engaging.
(Shortform note: Other experts also encourage the use of interviews, noting that they can engage your reader through pathos—an emotional appeal to your audience. By discussing a topic with someone who knows about it or is directly affected by it, you’ll connect with your reader. For example, a news story about a flood will be more engaging if the journalist includes an interview with a family whose home was destroyed by the flood than if the journalist just gave the statistics about the flood damage.)
Humor is a writing form that uses a lighthearted or funny approach to reveal absurd or harsh truths about humanity. Zinsser believes sometimes not being “serious” is the best and only way to talk about serious topics, like war, famine, violence, and so on.
(Shortform note: If you’re struggling to write humor, first try identifying your own sense of humor. What do you find funny? One-liners? Wit? Sarcasm? Dark humor? Anecdotes? Self-deprecation? Read different types of humor to identify your style. Once you’ve identified your humor, try drawing from your personal experience for inspiration. What kind of funny anecdotes could you write about?)
Travel writing describes a place, the people who live there, and what it’s like to be there. These features should reveal a deeper truth about the city or its people. What’s special about this place and its people?
(Shortform note: When thinking about Zinsser’s idea of travel writing as understanding the humanity of a place and its people, consider Erich Fromm’s distinction between looking and seeing to improve your ability to find and write deeper truths about a place and its people. He relates looking to an interest in lifeless, immobile artifacts. But unlike simply looking at something, seeing implies a recognition of the life or humanity in something. Seeing requires embracing your own humanity, openness, and interest in the world. So rather than trying to use your writing as a form of looking, write with the intent to see the life of a place and its people.)
Sportswriting is a form of nonfiction that reports on topics involving sports, such as athletes, games, and competitions. Zinsser notes that sportswriters often make themselves and their knowledge the focus rather than the athlete or the game. Tell the story through your perspective, but don’t tell a story about yourself. For example, you can report on a professional basketball game without describing your personal history of playing basketball in grade school.
(Shortform note: To focus and improve your sportswriting, identify the key components of any sports story: the highlights of the game, the team names, the score, and when and where the game took place. Make these elements the most important part of the story—details and your own commentary should only support these main elements.)
Zinsser explains that criticisms are another popular form of nonfiction, where an author reviews the artistic merit of a creative work. This work can be in any medium, such as visual art, literature, cinema, and so on. He believes that the writer should appreciate and be familiar with the medium as a whole since criticisms situate the work into the broader context of other similar works.
(Shortform note: Zinsser focuses on using criticisms to situate readers into the broader context of a genre. But in How to Read a Book, Mortimer J. Adler and Charles van Doren explain that criticizing a book means to comment, “I agree,” “I disagree,” or “I suspend judgment.” Their views can also be adapted for other media. When you’re criticizing an author, Adler and Van Doren caution against being overly contentious or combative. A discussion isn’t something to be won: It’s an opportunity to discover the truth. Remember that disagreement is an opportunity to learn something new.)
In a memoir, a writer describes a specific event or point in time that he experienced. Zinsser explains that unlike an autobiography—which discusses the writer’s life story—a memoir has a narrow focus. If you want to write a memoir, Zinsser recommends picking a specific idea, moment, or theme from your personal experience. Then write about that instance in depth, conveying the importance of that idea to you and your life. The more detailed you can be, the better. Details will paint a more complete picture of this idea or moment.
(Shortform note: Unlike Zinsser, other writers caution against sharing some personal stories. Experts cite a culture of oversharing, spurred largely by the internet and social media, as a reason for the popularization of the memoir. There may also be a biological reason for telling personal stories: A Harvard study found that the brain’s neurochemical reward system is activated more when we share personal thoughts and less when we report on the opinions of others. Before you publish your story, ask yourself if your memoir borders the line of oversharing personal information.)
Science and technology writing is a nonfiction genre that centers on technical subjects. Zinsser argues that science and technical writers often lack humanity in their pieces, resulting in an overly-logical and impersonal article. To avoid this, write like yourself, not a robot. Imagine how you’d explain this subject to a friend or family member in a casual conversation, then translate that onto paper.
(Shortform note: To incorporate humanity into science and technology writing, tell a story about real people. Many science writers think that explaining the widespread effects of an issue will persuade their audience of an issue’s importance. But this approach relies on the abstract principles of the problem. Instead, be specific by discussing a real person or group and how this research affects them. Your reader can relate to this person and understand the effects through this lens.)
In most companies, employees use some form of written communication, such as emails, memos, copywriting, newsletters, or social media captions. All of these different forms are types of business writing. Zinsser recommends that you make your business writing sound personal. He believes a reader wants to know that she’s reading the words of a person, not a business. Organizations don’t write emails or memos—people do.
(Shortform note: Companies have embraced Zinsser’s version of personal business writing and are now creating consistent brand voices, or the unique personality of their communications with consumers. One key element of a brand voice is identifying what kind of person your business would be and using that type of person to communicate with customers. For example, Nike’s brand voice persona is an athlete who uses strong, inspiring language to motivate consumers.)
In On Writing Well, William Zinsser argues that, like any craft, good writing can be learned. Writing is a form of communication, and most of us have to communicate via writing in our lives or jobs. If you want to write an intelligent email, a best-selling novel, or an instruction manual, Zinsser’s principles of writing will help you communicate effectively.
After years of writing professionally and teaching writing courses, Zinsser distilled his main ideas about good writing into On Writing Well. In this guide, we’ll break down Zinsser’s principles of writing: simplicity, clarity, and identity. We’ll also explore his advice on constructing good writing and on common challenges of different nonfiction genres. In addition, we’ll examine how his principles align with or differ from other writing experts, and we’ll explore how his ideas can play out in specific examples.
William Zinsser was an American writer, journalist, and teacher. He wrote 19 books, including On Writing Well, Writing to Learn, and Writing About Your Life. He frequently contributed articles to Life and The American Scholar magazine.
Zinsser taught writing classes at Yale University and the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. This book distills much of the information he taught in his lectures on creative nonfiction.
After losing his eyesight, Zinsser began one-on-one coaching for aspiring and professional writers. Writers would read him their work, and he’d critique it—for the small price of a sandwich. In 2015, he passed away at the age of 92.
Connect with William Zinsser:
On Writing Well was originally published in 1976 by HarperCollins. The book is now in its 30th edition. In 2004, Zinsser published a book called Writing About Your Life, which expands on his advice on writing memoirs.
Zinsser initially published On Writing Well in response to the popularization of nonfiction as a genre throughout the 20th century. Zinsser explains that World War II exposed people to the harsh realities of life, making Americans more fact-minded. People became disinterested in the slower pace and long-winded descriptions found in fiction novels. This shift was reflected in the popular works of the time, such as Silent Spring (which launched the environmental movement) and In Cold Blood (a true crime story about the murder of a Kansas family). Both books shifted away from the flowery, detailed language of the 19th and early 20th centuries toward a more direct and journalistic style of writing.
Because of this genre shift, demand for both nonfiction writing and writers increased, encouraging new forms of writing, such as blogs and email. Zinsser notes that more people became writers—whether as a profession, hobby, or necessity—and he wanted to share the fundamentals for good nonfiction writing.
After publishing the first edition, Zinsser also frequently updated the book to account for cultural changes and new insights on writing. For example, in response to more women exploring writing in the 20th century, Zinsser updated the book to warn writers against sexist pronoun usage in their writing. As he continued teaching nonfiction courses to students, he learned about new problems writers faced that would be beneficial in On Writing Well. For example, he included a section about enjoying the process of writing, since he noticed his students worrying about the finished product.
Zinsser explains that he wrote On Writing Well as a nonfiction-focused follow up to The Elements of Style by William Strunk Jr. and E. B. White. Some of Strunk and White’s elements of style are clarity, conciseness, coherence, unity, correctness (grammar), precision (word choice), and taste (style). Zinsser explores many of these same principles. Zinsser also follows a similar organization to Strunk and White’s structure, discussing usage and various writing forms.
On Writing Well is a popular writing reference for all disciplines of nonfiction. Many readers appreciate the book’s practical advice and back-to-basics approach and have found the book helpful for writers of all skill levels.
On Writing Well has sold more than 1.5 million copies and is widely regarded as an essential guide for writers. Many writers note that the book is one of the best references for nonfiction writing, and they cite Zinsser’s advice to simplify writing and eliminate clutter as particularly helpful. Reviewers agree that On Writing Well is most effective as a general guide to writing, rather than as a comprehensive guide to learning specific techniques such as humor or grammar rules.
Zinsser follows his own advice and writes with simplicity and clarity, making his writing accessible and enjoyable to read. He describes important elements of writing using his own writing background, examining work from other good writers, and discussing his experiences teaching students how to write.
Zinsser also takes a conversational approach to discussing writing. He doesn’t talk down to writers, taking the role of a supportive mentor or professor instead. He describes a back-to-basics approach, which focuses on honing essential skills rather than trying to employ complex stylistic techniques.
Zinsser organizes his book into four main sections: Principles, Methods, Forms, and Attitudes. The first discusses general concepts of writing, such as simplicity and style. The second part discusses specific pieces of advice, such as the functions of different word types. The third part explores the different types of nonfiction writing and the common problems writers encounter in those genres. The final section discusses a writer’s identity, how to approach writing, and creative decisions.
Within this overall organization, we’ve reorganized and grouped similar concepts into two main parts. In Part 1, we discuss the general writing principles of simplicity, clarity, and identity. Zinsser primarily discusses simplicity in his Principles section, clarity in his Methods section, and identity in his Attitudes section, but these ideas are themes throughout the book.
In Part 2, we describe Zinsser’s specific advice for nonfiction writers, which he discusses in his section on Forms. Throughout the guide, we’ll explore insight from other writers and experts. We’ll also provide actionable tips on how to apply Zinsser’s principles of writing.
Zinsser believes anyone can learn to write well, and that while many writers think natural talent is the key to good writing, writing is actually a craft. As with any craft, you can hone your skills by practicing good fundamentals.
Even if you’re not a professional writer, you’ll find yourself in a position where you need to express an idea with words. Whether you’re crafting an email or a resume, you can apply Zinsser’s principles of writing.
Zinsser was a writer, journalist, and professor. He spent many years teaching writing courses at Yale and Columbia. This book is a distillation of his writing courses for nonfiction writers, but you can apply his ideas to other genres.
In Part 1 of this guide, we’ll talk about Zinsser’s three principles: simplicity, clarity, and identity. The first two principles discuss improving your writing on a technical and organizational level. The final principle involves developing your writing voice and being engaging. Then in Part 2, we’ll discuss specific advice Zinsser offers for constructing a piece of writing as well as common challenges of different nonfiction genres. Through commentary, we’ll add insights from other writers and ideas on how to apply Zinsser’s principles.
Zinsser’s first principle of good writing is simplicity. In this part, we’ll define simplicity and discuss how intentional word choices result in simplicity. We’ll also explain how eliminating types of clutter will simplify your writing.
Simplicity means your writing is easy to understand. Simple writing uses common and precise words, constructs simple sentences, and omits clutter, thus making it less confusing for the reader.
(Shortform note: Zinsser’s belief in simple writing may have been influenced by Dr. Rudolf Flesch, who was a popular literacy expert throughout the mid-1900s. He advocated for short and straightforward writing, contending that it improved reading comprehension. His writings on the subject influenced the minimalist writing and editing style of the 20th century. Flesch even created literacy tests to assess the simplicity of a written passage.)
Zinsser advises that to write simply, you should follow these guidelines:
To avoid confusing your reader, write with smaller, more common words. Zinsser believes that a good rule of thumb is to write like you talk since we generally don’t use words with more than three or four syllables. If you wouldn’t say “pulchritudinous” in conversation with a friend, reconsider using it in your writing.
(Shortform note: Some writing experts offer another reason for using common words: People don’t appreciate feeling illiterate. They argue that writers who use complex words appear to be “showing off” and advise writers to get out of this habit. Researchers support this idea, citing overcomplicated writing and flowery language as a common reason manuscripts are rejected.)
Zinsser also advises against using large, complex words, such as jargon. Jargon is technical language used by a specific group of people, like doctors using medical terminology. Jargon overwhelms most readers because the general population doesn’t know the meaning of these specialized words.
(Shortform note: While Zinsser cautions against using jargon, other experts argue technical terms are sometimes warranted. Jargon serves a purpose: to describe specialized concepts. Sometimes it’s the most succinct term you can use to discuss an idea, in which case, using jargon aligns with Zinsser’s idea of simplicity. So if you’re specifically writing for an audience who will understand jargon, it’s okay to use it.)
Simplifying your writing makes your meaning clearer with fewer words. To achieve simplicity, Zinsser advises choosing the best word to suit your meaning and tone. The best word is the one that accurately encapsulates the idea you want to convey. One precise word can do the job of three or four vague words.
For example, you could describe the color of an object as “a mix of blue and green,” or you could write “teal.” “Teal” is the better choice since it conveys in one word what “a mix of blue and green” says in six. By choosing one good word like “teal,” you convey meaning more efficiently.
Zinsser encourages writers to use a thesaurus and a dictionary when choosing words. Look up synonyms to words in your thesaurus, and use your dictionary to compare the nuances between their meanings. For example, you could describe the sun as “hot,” but also consider writing “boiling” or “scorching.” One word might offer more nuance or meaning than the others, thus making it a better choice.
Good Writing Doesn’t Require an Extensive Vocabulary
While Zinsser encourages both simple and precise word choices, sometimes the most precise word isn’t the simplest or most natural. For example, “susurration” might be more precise, but “murmur” is the simpler choice. Stephen King echoes this idea, and he believes that while an advanced vocabulary can lead to good writing, it isn’t a requirement for it. Here are two examples:
1) “The leathery, undeteriorative, and almost indestructible quality was an inherent attribute of the thing's form of organization, and pertained to some paleogean cycle of invertebrate evolution utterly beyond our powers of speculation.”—H. P. Lovecraft, At the Mountains of Madness
2) “The foundations of the Mansion House hotel stuck up above the ground. The stone was chipped and split by the fire. It was all that was left of the town of Seney.”—Ernest Hemingway, Big Two-Hearted River
Both excerpts illustrate good writing while using different vocabulary levels. King encourages writers to use whatever vocabulary they have. Don’t mull over your vocabulary and conjure fancy words you wouldn’t ordinarily use. The first word that comes to mind is often the best one.
Zinsser recommends being particularly precise when choosing verbs, or words that convey action, such as “hopped” or “leapt.” Verbs convey meaning and imagery—for example, when you picture someone “hopping,” you picture something different than someone “leaping.”
Since verbs convey multiple kinds of information, one precise verb will do the job of a vague verb and several adjectives. If a writer uses one specific verb like "leapt," it can condense a longer phrase, such as "pushed off her feet and into the air.” You’ll convey more information in fewer words, thus simplifying your sentence.
Counterpoint: Don’t Overdo Descriptive Verbs
Unlike Zinsser, some experts caution against making your verbs too descriptive, saying that common words like “go” and “see” are common for a reason: They’re useful. These experts recommend using more expressive verbs only when you want to call attention to the manner of that action. For example:
“Martha walked down the aisle.”
“Martha ambled down the aisle.”
Decide what parts of the sentence are important and highlight them with your words. Is the particular way she walked important? Was Martha actually ambling, or was she truly just walking? Your verbs should tell the reader something important, not provide detail for the sake of detail.
Zinsser also recommends writing with straightforward sentence structures. A simple sentence structure clearly conveys the subject of the sentence and the action they are performing. These sentences are easier for readers to follow.
(Shortform note: There may be a scientific reason to use simpler sentence constructions. While researchers don’t know everything about how the human brain understands sentence meaning, some experts believe that we speed up the processing of simple sentences since our brains can more easily predict where the sentence is going.)
Writing in active voice is the easiest way to construct straightforward sentences. Active voice describes a subject performing an action: For example, “John will drive my car.” This differs from passive voice, which describes an event or action that happens to someone: For example, “My car will be driven by John.” Active voice is simpler, more direct, and less cluttered than passive voice, which is wordy and indirect.
When Should You Use Passive Voice?
As Zinsser implies, voice refers to the relationship between a verb and the subject and object it’s associated with. Only use passive voice when the object—not the subject—of the sentence is the focus. Rather than highlighting the subject at the beginning of the sentence using active voice, passive voice flips the sentence around, focusing on the “what,” not the “who” that did the “what.”
For instance, lawyers defending someone who committed a crime might use passive voice to intentionally be less direct about the actions of their defendant. For example, instead of saying “Mr. Smith robbed the bank,” a lawyer might say, “The bank was robbed.” Passive voice obscures the focus of who robbed the bank and reframes the sentence onto the object—the bank—of the robbing.
However, Zinsser notes that simple writing doesn’t equate to being boring or juvenile. Consider the difference between these two sentences:
Although the two sentences convey the same idea, the second sentence is more descriptive than the first sentence. However, the second sentence still follows Zinsser’s principle of simplicity, using small words and an easy-to-follow sentence structure.
Simplicity in Action: Hemingway vs. Faulkner
Ernest Hemingway was famous for writing as Zinsser recommends, with simple words and sentences. But not every great writer completely subscribes to the idea of keeping things short and simple. William Faulkner—Hemingway’s stylistic opposite—used long sentences and complex words. He also explored stream of consciousness writing, which explores the numerous thoughts and feelings of a narrator and tends to be more complex.
However, Faulkner’s complexity didn’t violate all of Zinsser’s rules on simplicity. He took a disciplined approach to diction and the cadence of words. Consider this sentence from Faulkner’s “The Bear”:
“But this time it was no deer, no ringing chorus of dogs running strong on a free scent, but a moiling yapping an octave too high, with something more than indecision and even abjectness in it, not even moving very fast, taking a long time to pass completely out of hearing, leaving then somewhere in the air that echo, thin, slightly hysterical, abject, almost grieving, with no sense of a fleeing, unseen, smoke-colored, grass-eating shape ahead of it, and Sam, who had taught him first of all to cock the gun and take position where he could see everywhere and then never move again, had himself moved up beside him; he could hear Sam breathing at his shoulder, and he could see the arched curve of the old man’s inhaling nostrils.”
To counteract this sentence’s long and winding structure, Faulkner keeps the majority of words simple so the reader can easily follow along. Zinsser’s principle of simplicity is still reflected in this example, even if it looks different in Faulkner’s specific style.
Zinsser asserts that simple writing can’t have clutter. Clutter is a word or phrase that doesn’t add meaning to your sentence, thus needlessly increasing the number of words in your sentence. Zinsser believes that it’s your job as a writer to carefully select the right words and delete clutter—this is part of what makes writing a craft.
Zinsser explains that by adding redundant words to your sentences, clutter forces the reader to do unnecessary work to understand your meaning. She might not have the patience to read a page of information that could be condensed to a paragraph. She’ll lose interest and stop reading.
If you think a word or phrase is clutter, Zinsser suggests bracketing it, rather than marking it out. Then you can analyze the sentence with and without the bracketed section. Decide if it adds anything to the sentence—if not, it’s clutter and should be deleted. Bracketing will train you to look for clutter and to make conscious decisions about what to include in your writing.
For example, imagine a memo that reads, “We’re in the process of renovating our offices.” This sentence could be revised to, “We’re renovating our offices.” Readers understand that renovations are a process, so “in the process of” is clutter and can be omitted without losing information.
Clutter and Cutting the Fat
Another way to think of clutter is to consider your writing like a nutritious meal. Eliminating clutter is “cutting the fat” of writing—anything that’s unnecessary and doesn’t add value to the “meat” or substance of what you’re saying. Then add descriptions to your writing—this is like the fruits, vegetables, and sauces that add color and flavor to your meal. The key is to create a balanced meal by eliminating unhealthy fat.
If you’re struggling to cut the fat (and bracketing doesn’t work), try using an online editor like the Hemingway App. This tool highlights hard-to-read sentences, adverbs, passive voice, and other ways your writing may sound confusing. Like Zinsser’s bracketing technique, this lets you evaluate your writing and make thoughtful changes. But be careful not to rely exclusively on these kinds of tools—they shouldn’t be a crutch. Rather, they should help you develop a keener eye for words that aren’t doing necessary work.
Let’s look at a few common types of clutter. If you come across them in your writing, bracket them.
Zinsser argues that wordy phrases can be a source of clutter if those phrases take the place of single words that have the same meaning. For example, “in the event that” or “for the purpose of” are both common phrases that create clutter. In this case, you can reduce these phrases to “if” and “for” since these words concisely convey the idea of the phrases.
To eliminate clutter, choose the word instead of the phrase. The word is usually better at conveying the meaning anyway—it has a purpose and a place in our language for a reason. For example, “During the course of the investigation, prosecutors found evidence.” “During” means “throughout the course or duration of.” To say “during the course of” is redundant, and could be simplified to, “During the investigation, prosecutors found evidence.”
Don’t Clear Your Throat on Paper
Some experts refer to these wordy phrases as a form of “throat-clearing,” or a preamble to your writing. Throat-clearing prepares the reader for what they’re about to read rather than getting to the point of the sentence or story. This habit is the written equivalent of “like,” “um,” and “uh” for public speakers—it’s filler. It often has the effect of making a writer sound insecure or unsure of what she’s writing.
Experts note that these “throat-clearing” phrases can be omitted without losing any meaning:
It is important to note that…
I further point out that…
An important aspect, which must not be overlooked, is that…
It would appear to be the case that…
It should be emphasized that…
Use these phrases to pinpoint ideas in your writing that need to be emphasized or developed. Then expand on those ideas, and delete those phrases from your draft.
To achieve simplicity, Zinsser also recommends avoiding euphemisms: words or phrases that indirectly talk about a taboo or embarrassing topic. Euphemisms complicate your writing because readers must interpret your true meaning. For example, “it left a lot to be desired” is an indirect and more complex way of saying, “it was bad.”
The Cultural Context of Euphemisms
In addition to being a source of clutter, other experts believe that euphemisms are culturally dependent phrases and therefore may not be understood by people outside your culture. Misunderstandings can arise because euphemisms can be shaped by truths unique to particular nationalities, so the full connotation of a phrase may not be readily apparent.
For example, American euphemisms obscure words that aren’t offensive to begin with. For example, “in the family way” replaces “pregnant,” and “previously owned” replaces “used.” Some researchers believe this reflects the American pursuit of perfection.
In contrast, euphemisms in China reflect a value of respect and politeness. For example, rather than directly turn down an invitation, someone might say that something is “not convenient,” which people understand to mean “no.”
While euphemisms serve a purpose in verbal communication, not everyone will understand the cultural context behind these phrases. Therefore, reconsider using euphemisms in your writing.
Zinsser contends that adverbs are one of the most common sources of clutter for writers, and they signal areas where you can condense two or more words into one. Adverbs modify verbs, explaining how someone does something. They often end in “-ly.” For example, “loudly,” “quietly,” and “slowly” are all adverbs that describe how someone might perform an action.
Adverbs are clutter because a verb already implies how someone is performing that action. For example, writing “ran quickly” is redundant since “run” already implies quickness. So including “quickly” doesn’t add anything to the reader’s understanding. If a verb doesn’t convey the meaning of the adverb, find a more specific verb.
Zinsser recommends that when you find yourself using many adverbs, go back and bracket them with the verb they modify. Decide if your verb already conveys the meaning of the adverb. If it does, delete the adverb. If it doesn’t, consult your dictionary or thesaurus to find one word that captures the meaning of the two words you bracketed.
For example, “while the dog slept peacefully in the corner, a mouse quickly ran away from the cat.” Bracket the adverbs with the verbs they modify: “While the dog [slept peacefully] in the corner, a mouse [quickly ran] away from the cat.” What word could replace “slept peacefully”? Consider slumbered, dozed, or napped. What word could replace “quickly ran”? Consider scurried, dashed, or darted.
How to Avoid Adverbs: Describe Context, Not Action
Like Zinsser, Stephen King also advises against using adverbs, particularly in dialogue. Weak writers use adverbs in dialogue to break up the monotony, as in “‘Put down the gun,’ Sean pleaded tentatively.” King recommends deleting the adverb and defaulting to the simple “he said, she said” dialogue construction.
Then, instead of describing how he said something, describe the context of the situation. For example, you might explain that Sean felt his heart rate quicken or noticed his breath becoming shallow. If you describe a timid character in a frightening situation (such as having a gun pointed at him), the reader will make the connection that he was tentative or scared when he said, “Put down the gun.” Thus the context will provide more information than overexplaining how an action was performed.
Zinsser cautions against using many adjectives because they can be redundant, thus creating clutter. Adjectives describe nouns and provide detail. But some nouns already convey the idea of the adjective. For example, writing “the green grass” is redundant because grass is naturally green. But if the grass was “brown” or “dying,” including those adjectives adds detail your reader didn’t already know.
Zinsser believes you should use adjectives sparingly. Then when you do use an adjective, it’ll be more impactful because it’ll add detail that the reader couldn’t have inferred from the noun or verb.
Interpretive vs. Descriptive Adjectives
Since Zinsser advises against using many adjectives, how do you provide detail in your writing? Other writers argue that the type of adjective you use matters. They recommend that you avoid interpretive adjectives, or adjectives that are imprecise because they are up to the reader’s interpretation. For example, “the impressive building” doesn’t provide much detail. “Impressive” is up to the reader’s interpretation—what kind of building does she think is impressive? Two impressive buildings might not look anything alike.
Instead of interpretive adjectives, opt for descriptive adjectives. These are adjectives that are less likely to be misinterpreted because they reflect an objective truth or observation. For example, saying “the ornate Victorian manor” or “the contemporary white house” is more descriptive than “impressive building.”
Another way to simplify your writing is to avoid qualifiers, or words that modify the meaning of other words (particularly nouns) rather than adding meaning of their own. For example, “really,” “probably,” “I think,” and “very” are all qualifiers.
To simplify your writing, Zinsser recommends finding one word that encapsulates the meaning behind your modifier and the word it’s modifying. For example, instead of writing “fairly cold,” consider “cool.” You’ll use fewer words while also providing a more accurate description, thus achieving simpler writing.
Identify Your Crutch Words
For many writers, qualifiers fall under the category of “crutch words.” These are the words that each writer personally falls back on and uses too often. One expert recommends always deleting “very,” “quite,” and “really” since they make your writing sound weaker.
She also suggests creating a list of your personal crutch words. To do this, read through your writing and find your most overused words and phrases. You can also use a text reading software to read your work to you. Often, hearing your work can highlight your crutch words.
Once you’ve identified your common crutch words, refer to this list when editing your drafts. If you’re using a computer, try using a Find or text search tool to search for each word or phrase. Then eliminate your crutch words or find synonyms to replace them with a more precise word.
While you should strive to write with simplicity, don’t expect your first draft to be perfect—there will be clutter and imprecise words in your draft that you’ll need to edit. Zinsser recommends embracing rewriting, or the act of improving what you’ve already written. By rewriting, you’ll find better, simplified ways of expressing your ideas.
While many writers avoid rewriting, Zinsser believes all great writers revise their work—no one writes a masterpiece on the first try. Rewriting is part of the writing process, so don’t skip this crucial step.
(Shortform note: If you’re worried that needing to rewrite means you’re not a talented writer, don’t: Most great artists refine their work from the first draft to the final product as Zinsser recommends. Some never stop fine-tuning their art: Leonardo Da Vinci worked on versions of the Mona Lisa for years up until his death.)
Zinsser explains that to rewrite, use your first draft as a guide, and restructure confusing sentences. Delete clutter, and rephrase words or sentences that could be more succinct.
Additionally, test the simplicity of your writing by reading your work out loud. Reading your writing out loud will indicate which sentences need reworking. If you trip over words or phrases, it’s a sign to rewrite it more simply.
Try Stephen King’s Rewriting Process
If you’re having difficulty rewriting—and most writers do—don’t get discouraged. Finding your rewriting style takes time. Many famous writers have their own unique methods of revising. For example, Joan Didion marked edits at night after a day of writing and then made those edits the next morning to kickstart another day of writing.
In On Writing, Stephen King outlines his revision process from beginning to end:
1) After you finish your first draft, King suggests taking at least six weeks to work on other pieces before you start rewriting your draft. During this time, resist the temptation to read your draft. The point is to distance yourself from the draft, so you can be a more objective critic when you revise.
2) After six weeks, read the draft in one sitting, if possible. Note fixes for specific issues, like deleting adverbs. Also ask yourself big-picture questions. What is the piece about? Is there a theme? Are there recurring elements? Is the story coherent?
3) Go back through and revise for your second draft. Fix small issues and polish your big picture ideas.
4) After you finish, give the second draft to a small group of readers you trust. Listen to their feedback. Incorporate the feedback as you like. The result can be your next draft, or even your final draft.
5) Use however many revision cycles you’re comfortable with. King’s standard process takes two drafts and a final polish.
The next time you sit down to rewrite, consider using King’s process.
You now understand the importance of simplifying your writing by being intentional about your word choice and eliminating clutter. Now we’ll discuss Zinsser’s second principle of writing: clarity. We’ll define clarity, talk about being logical and consistent, and discuss a few guiding questions you can ask yourself as you write.
Once you’ve achieved simplicity in wording and structuring your sentences, focus on bringing clarity to your writing. Clarity occurs when you logically explain your idea to a reader. Zinsser believes that it’s your job as a writer to guide the reader through your thought process rather than forcing them to dissect disorganized or underdeveloped writing.
For example, consider how the second sentence loses clarity: “Megan and Courtney walked to the end of the street before parting ways. Then she walked into a nearby coffee shop.” Who is “she” referring to—Megan or Courtney? Something as simple as a vague pronoun can disrupt the clarity of your writing.
Zinsser believes to write clearly, you must clearly understand the topic you’re writing about. If you don’t understand the topic, you’ll never be able to explain it well to your reader.
Occam’s Razor and Writing
Another way to think of Zinsser’s idea of clarity is through the principle of Occam’s razor, or the idea that the simplest solution is often the best one. In writing, this means you should discard as much unnecessary information as possible and just stick to the essential facts. This principle can be applied to any kind of writing: marketing copy, an essay, or a sales proposal. To apply this principle, keep these four questions in mind:
What’s your central message?
What’s the best structure to communicate this message?
What background does the audience need to know?
How long should each point or topic be?
To answer these questions in a useful way, you need to fully understand the material you’re writing about.
To write with clarity, follow a logical sequence of ideas. Each sentence should build off of the idea in the previous sentence. To lead your reader to your next thought, Zinsser recommends anticipating what the reader will ask and answering their question in the next sentence, rather than repeating the previous sentence in a different way.
If you’re having trouble writing with clarity, Zinsser recommends writing about a scientific or technical subject, such as how Bluetooth works or the migration pattern of monarch butterflies. The purpose of this exercise is to clearly explain how something works. First, you’ll need to fully understand the subject, otherwise there will be holes in your logic. Then, explain the steps you used to understand the topic. With scientific subjects, you’re less likely to omit key steps since you won’t assume your reader already knows certain facts. If you assume a reader already knows something and omit defining, explaining, or connecting your ideas, you lose clarity and confuse your reader. By completing this exercise, you’ll learn to clearly explain a logical process.
Elements of Logical Writing
Truly logical writing answers a reader’s questions before they have a chance to ask them. To make your writing more logical, experts recommend this general formula:
1) State each premise or thought, or an idea that supports your main idea or conclusion. For example, in an email to your company, you might write, “As a company, we want to support our employees to the best of our ability.”
2) Provide evidence to support this premise. Following the previous example, you might say something like, “Research shows that a four-day work-week improves productivity, increases employee happiness, and saves time and money. Employee salaries will remain the same.”
3) Draw a clear connection to the conclusion. Connect your premise and evidence to your main point. This shouldn’t feel like stating the obvious—rather, you’re completing the idea. For example, “For these reasons, we will now close our offices for the weekend at the end of the day on Thursday. Employees will now have Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off.”
This formula works for any kind of argument or proposal, making it useful in business proposals, copywriting, and technical writing. But the formula can also be applied to creative nonfiction like memoirs or travel writing. Your evidence will probably come in the form of the detail you give the reader to back up your claims. For example, instead of just stating someone’s name and occupation, you could describe their uniform. This description would provide evidence to support the idea of their occupation.
Zinsser believes that you can increase the clarity of your writing with signposts. Signposts are words that connect ideas and indicate the progression of your thoughts, such as “first” or “finally.” Signposts tell your reader what direction you’re going next, guiding your reader through your logic.
For example, imagine you write, “I made the cake. I poured in the milk, melted butter, and eggs. I mixed it all together. I put the batter in a pan. I baked it at 350 degrees.” While these sentences are all simple, they lack clarity because they don’t connect to each other. To bring clarity to these ideas, include signposts: “I made the cake. To do this, I poured in the milk, melted butter, and eggs. Next, I mixed it all together. Then I put the batter in a pan before baking it at 350 degrees.” The italicized signposts indicate the sequence of events, providing clarity.
While signposts signal the progression of logic, they can also signal changes in tone. For example, your boss sends you an email, and the first paragraph congratulates you on your most recent project. But the second paragraph begins with, “however.” This signals that your boss’s tone and topic change in this paragraph. From “however,” you know that the tone of the second paragraph will no longer be congratulatory, and the topic will change from commenting on your presentation to something else.
Choose the Right Type of Signposts
Zinsser mentions a few examples of common signposts but doesn’t discuss the different categories of signposts, which can direct and organize our next thoughts. Knowing where your sentences are heading, and what category your next thought falls into, can help you choose the right signpost. There are several types of signposts:
To add more ideas: again, furthermore, in addition, moreover
To compare or contrast ideas: alternatively, contrastingly, conversely, whereas
To prove something: evidently, for this reason, because, inevitably
To show exceptions: however, nevertheless, yet, in spite of
To repeat or refer back to something: as mentioned earlier, or as previously discussed
To show that you will include something later: this will be discussed in detail later
To emphasize something: definitely, obviously, inevitably, undeniably
To give an example: for instance, in this case, in particular, notably
To show chronology: previously, following this, initially, subsequently, finally
However, experts warn that you shouldn’t over-signpost. Too many signposts can make your writing wordy and give the impression that you don’t trust the reader’s ability to make connections. Also, don’t substitute logically building off of your previous sentence with a signpost. You should still thoroughly explain your ideas.
Being consistent will help you write with clarity. Consistency, or what Zinsser calls unity, is when certain key elements of your writing stay the same throughout your writing, even as your idea develops. For example, tone is one key element to keep consistent in a piece of writing, as we’ll discuss. Zinsser believes consistency eliminates unwanted confusion because your reader won’t have to keep up with unnecessary changes in your writing.
Zinsser explains that while you can take some artistic liberty with your writing, you have to stick with whatever decisions you make. As you write, you can change your mind, but make sure that change is reflected throughout the rest of your writing. For example, you may start writing a piece in third person, only to decide midway through that you think first person would work better. It’s okay to change your mind, but be sure to go back and change the parts you’ve already written in third person to first person.
Be Consistent With Punctuation and Spelling
Zinsser points out the importance of consistency with big decisions like tone, main idea, tense, and point of view. But it’s also important to be consistent for small decisions like punctuation and spelling. Experts cite several reasons to be consistent about these small decisions:
Consistency makes writing easier on you. For example, if you make a conscious decision to use the Oxford comma, you won’t have to keep deciding whether or not to use one later in your piece.
Consistency makes you seem like a more credible writer. When a reader notices inconsistencies, such as using “judgment” and “judgement” in the same piece, she might consider the writing amateur.
Consistency makes your writing look polished and professional—it’s a subtle way to show your reader that you’ve paid attention to the details.
To ensure consistency in writing, some publications and businesses adhere to a style guide. Some of the more common style guides are AP style, Chicago style, APA style, and MLA style. You can use these guides as a reference to answer certain consistency questions about spelling, word hyphenation, punctuation, and more.
Zinsser discusses four decisions you should make to ensure you’re consistent. These decisions are your promise to the reader that you won’t try to confuse or trick them. To ensure you stay consistent in your artistic decisions, ask yourself these four guiding questions:
Zinsser believes that to bring clarity to your writing, the most important question you should ask yourself is, “What’s the main idea?” Your main idea is the most important takeaway from a piece—it’s your whole reason for writing that specific story.
Zinsser explains that your main idea will guide your writing and prevent unrelated tangents. When you have a clear main idea, all of the creative decisions you make will focus on clearly communicating it. This doesn’t mean you can’t explore other ideas in your piece, but those ideas should support your main point.
Zinsser contends that you’ll be better off writing in-depth about a specific idea than writing vaguely about a broader topic. You’ll have more space to explore details and discuss the topic thoroughly. So when deciding your main idea, be more specific than you think you need to be.
For example, imagine a writer who wants to write about life in New York City. Following Zinsser’s advice, he narrows his focus to writing about life in the Bronx in New York City. He narrows it further to one neighborhood in the Bronx. Finally, he narrows it to one family in the neighborhood. By taking a specific focus, he’ll be able to write a more realistic description of their lives. In doing so, he’ll reveal more about life in New York City than if he tried to write more broadly about the many different experiences of people living there.
Identify Your Main Idea
If you’re still struggling to narrow down your main idea, ask yourself a few questions:
What made you start writing the story in the first place? What was your motivation to write?
What is the main conflict in your story?
Can you summarize your story in one sentence? What keywords stand out to you?
Ask yourself these questions before you start writing. Some experts believe many writers make the mistake of writing prematurely. They advise against using writing to work out your thoughts, which can make your writing unorganized and repetitive. Instead, ask yourself what you want your reader to gain from your writing, and don’t start writing until you have a clear answer.
The next clarifying question you should ask yourself is, “What point of view will I use?” Your point of view is how you narrate your piece. Your point of view establishes a relationship with the reader since it’s how you’ll refer to yourself throughout the story.
There are three points of view: first, second, and third person.
Whatever point of view you decide on, make sure it’s consistent throughout your piece so your reader doesn’t question your reliability as a narrator. If you switch points of view in your writing, you’ll confuse your reader. For example, if your friend Beth emails you about her trip to the beach and says, “I had such a great time! The water was freezing, but Beth still went swimming,” it would be confusing as she switches from first person (“I had such a great time!”) to third person (“Beth went swimming”).
How to Choose a Point of View
In addition to being an important constraint in writing, other experts believe point of view can help you create certain effects. When choosing a point of view, consider what elements you want to highlight:
1) First person: As Zinsser notes, using “I” and “me” is the point of view that will bring you closest to the story. Use first person to create a closer relationship with the reader. But the story will also be limited to your knowledge and experience, which means the reader will find out information along with you. If you want to describe how someone else felt or thought, you’ll do so through your own words and understanding of their feelings.
2) Second person: This perspective refers to a general “you,” which requires the reader to suspend their disbelief and become another “you.” Second person is commonly used in instruction manuals. But other times, second person narrators refer to themselves (not the reader) as “you” instead of “I.” This lets the writer distance themselves from the narrative.
3) Third person: This perspective will create distance between the narrator and the story. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing—perhaps you want to create a sense of distance or objectivity in your story. Third person also has two forms:
Third person limited: This point of view focuses on only one person’s thoughts and feelings, and it might be a good choice if you’re writing a biography.
Third person omniscient: The narrator offers an objective look at multiple peoples’ points of view. It’s a common point of view in journalistic articles.
Additionally, while Zinsser believes you should keep your point of view consistent through a piece of writing, some authors change perspective for artistic effect. For example, in the semi-autobiographical novel We the Animals, Justin Torres initially writes in plural first person: “We were six snatching hands, six stomping feet; we were brothers, boys, three little kings locked in a feud for more.” Then later in the book, he transitions to first person singular, using “I” more than “we.” This choice is meant to represent the boys’ coming of age and one brother’s feelings of isolation. If you decide to experiment with points of view, make sure you do so with a specific purpose in mind, as Torres did.
Next, create clarity by deciding what tense you’ll write in and using that tense consistently throughout your piece. Zinsser notes that tenses help your reader situate themselves in the timeline of events.
Zinsser discusses the two most common tenses: past and present.
(Shortform note: Although Zinsser doesn’t discuss it, there is also the future tense, which discusses events that haven’t—but are expected—to happen. In English, our version of future tense uses “will” and a verb, such as in, “I will go to the store.”)
Zinsser explains that you should choose one main tense to tell your story, and use different tenses as appropriate. For example, if you’re telling a story using present tense and someone tells the narrator (in the present) about a story that happened to them (in the past), writing in a different tense for this dialogue is warranted.
But, if you switch your primary tense, you’ll confuse your reader because they won’t be sure of the chronology of events. Using the example from the previous section, let’s say Beth wrote, “I had such a great time! The water is freezing, but I’m still swimming.” At first she speaks in past tense, and then she switches to present tense. Switching the second sentence to present tense throws off the logic of Beth’s story.
How to Choose a Tense
While Zinsser discusses the importance of a consistent tense in eliminating reader confusion, each tense can also create certain effects in your writing.
Present tense:
When done correctly, present tense creates a cinematic effect. Like watching a movie, reading in present tense creates a sense of viewing the action as it unfolds.
Present tense creates a closeness with the writer. The reader may feel like she’s there with the writer as events happen.
Because of this closeness, present tense intensifies the emotions of a story. Readers find out information with the writer, so readers feel the same frustration, surprise, or betrayal that the writer does when writing the story.
Finally, present tense is more action-oriented. Thus if your story centers around action, rather than a person, place, or idea, present tense might be a better choice for you.
Past tense:
You can use past tense to create suspense. Since you know how your story unfolds, you can choose what context to give the reader rather than telling the reader information as you learn it.
Past tense can be more natural to read and write. Many readers and writers prefer past tense instead of present tense since writing is an act of reflecting on the past.
While present tense primarily builds a narrative through present actions, past tense offers more opportunity for narration, such as exploring other time periods or other peoples’ perspectives.
When writing, consider what effect you can achieve with your tense.
Finally, your tone will affect the clarity of your writing. Zinsser explains that tone signals what you think or how you feel about your topic. For example, you could take a lighthearted, nostalgic, or formal tone toward your writing.
(Shortform note: While tone signals your attitude toward a topic, your tone can also contribute to how the reader feels from reading your piece. So tone is important not only for reader understanding but also for reader response.)
Zinsser advises keeping your tone consistent throughout a piece of writing to eliminate confusion. If the reader doesn’t know how you feel about a subject, she’ll be confused by your writing. Thus avoid switching between tones in your piece. For example, if a journalist wrote about a devastating tsunami and switched from a serious, concerned tone to a light, humorous one within that piece, he’d get backlash from confused readers.
Tips for a Consistent Tone
While Zinsser notes the importance of having a consistent tone, he doesn’t offer advice on how to achieve this. Other experts offer tips for maintaining a consistent tone throughout a piece:
1) Before you start a writing session, read a good piece of writing that uses the tone you want for your piece. You’ll naturally mimic this tone and the ways a good author might convey it. For example, for a dry or reserved tone, you might read a passage of Joan Didion’s work.
2) Compare how you started and ended your piece. Did your tone change throughout your piece? If yes, read through your piece and identify where your tone differs from the one you intended.
3) Be specific with descriptions. Usually the details you include—and how you describe these details—affect the tone of the piece. Notice what kind of tone your descriptions give off. For example, a description of a broken antique table might evoke nostalgia from one writer and a sense of hopelessness or decay from another.
Zinsser says that to write consistently, you should answer four guiding questions about your main idea, point of view, tense, and tone.
Think of your current writing project. It could be an essay, travel guide, or letter—any kind of writing. What’s the main idea of this piece of writing? What’s the one thing you want your reader to take away from your writing?
How will you address the reader? What point of view is most appropriate for this piece of writing, and why?
What tense will you use? Why will this work best?
What tone will you use? What is your attitude—as the writer—to the piece? For example, if you’re writing an article about a political protest, your tone might be more serious than if you wrote a more conversational review of a new movie.
Many writers worry that by writing with simplicity and clarity, their writing will be boring. Further, they think complexity and embellishment will give them a unique voice, or writing identity. But Zinsser argues that writing simply and clearly is the most effective way to develop a unique writing identity. In this part, we’ll define identity, explain how to find your writing identity, discuss how to develop good taste, and explore the importance of humanity in writing.
Zinsser’s third principle of good writing is identity, or what makes your writing unique to you. It’s the specific style and personality that you as an individual bring to your writing. Zinsser explains that identity is a writer’s most recognizable quality to a reader. If a reader likes your identity and the way you tell stories, they’ll read more of your writing because they’re interested in what you have to say and how you say it. Zinsser argues that identity will determine whether or not readers like you as a writer.
Good artists develop a distinct style in their work, no matter what medium they’re working in. For example, when you look at a painting by Vincent van Gogh, you can probably identify that it’s his painting before looking at the signature. When you see a Quentin Tarantino film, you can tell whose movie it is. Why? It’s their identity—the personal style these artists apply to all of their work. The same is true for writers.
Elements of Identity
Zinsser explains identity as putting your personality on paper, but this may be easier said than done. While identity can be hard to define, experts do outline a few factors that contribute to a writer’s individual style.
Word choice: Zinsser believes you should use simple words, but not every writer adheres to this advice. For example, writer Will Self uses large, complex words, such as “strabismus” and “stereoscopically.”
Punctuation: Some writers make certain stylistic choices with their punctuation. For example, Sally Rooney is known for her omission of quotation marks.
Sentence structure: As we discussed earlier, sentence structure looks different from writer to writer—Hemingway preferred short sentences, while Faulkner wrote longer sentences.
Tone: As discussed earlier, this is the attitude you take toward a piece. You can take different tones in different pieces and still sound like yourself.
Sensory details: This is imagery that uses the senses: sight, smell, taste, touch, hearing, as well as kinesthetic sensations. Some writers prefer certain sensory details over others. For example, Chuck Palahniuk frequently describes smells in his writing.
Figurative language, such as metaphors and similes: This is another stylistic device to add detail and connect ideas. The way you connect ideas is unique to you and thus your writing identity.
Sound devices, such as alliteration and onomatopoeia: Just like the cadence of your speaking voice, the sound of your sentences can sound like you too.
We’ve discussed several of these factors in the sections on simplicity and clarity, which echoes Zinsser’s claim that writing with simplicity and clarity will help you write like yourself.
Zinsser believes identity is your personality and style revealing itself through words. The more you write, the more comfortable you’ll become with your unique style. While writing like yourself should eventually feel effortless, Zinsser offers these tips for finding your writing identity:
To write in your unique style, start by writing for yourself. Zinsser explains that your identity will shine through when you write about things that you want to write about. Or ask yourself what you want to read, and write about that. By letting your interests direct your writing topic, you’ll be more passionate when writing about it.
Zinsser believes writers make the mistake of writing for their editor, publisher, or the people they think will read their piece. Don’t ask yourself what other people want to read—ask yourself what you want to read or write. If you're not interested in a topic, your writing will sound bored, and your reader will pick up on it. But don’t worry about readers not being interested in what you’re passionate about—if you find it engaging, someone else will too.
Think about the last time you asked someone about a topic they’re passionate about. Did their eyes light up? Were they more engaged in the conversation? Was their passion infectious? The answers are probably yes. Writing works the same way—your passion will come through in your writing, and you’ll naturally sound more like yourself.
Counterpoint: Identify Your Ideal Reader
In On Writing, Stephen King offers a different perspective, suggesting that you keep one reader in mind as you write: your Ideal Reader. Your Ideal Reader is usually the one person whose opinion you trust above all. For King, it’s his wife Tabitha.
You come to know your Ideal Reader’s tastes so well you can predict how he or she will feel about any particular thing you’re writing. Will she laugh at this scene? Will she get bored here? The Ideal Reader helps give you an audience as you write rather than writing strictly for yourself, as Zinsser recommends.
The Ideal Reader should also be an honest reviewer—supportive but unrelenting. You might disagree with Ideal Reader’s feedback, but you know there’s truth to it.
Once you find a topic you’re passionate about, write about it from your own perspective, or in first person. Zinsser explains that since we generally speak in first person, writing with “I” should feel natural. Avoid trying to tell a story through someone else’s eyes because it will place a barrier between your thoughts and your natural writing voice.
But Zinsser acknowledges that not every piece of nonfiction writing can be in first person. For example, journalists traditionally avoid using “I” to maintain an objective perspective. In these instances, first write the article using “I” so you sound like yourself. Then go back and edit the article, converting it to third person. This process allows your writing to feel more personal, even when you can’t use first person.
Improve Reflection Through Wakewalking
Since first person brings you closest to the story, your own reflection and insight will be more obviously represented in your writing when you use “I.” If you’re still struggling to connect to your writing or topic, try practicing your skills of observation and reflection.
One way to do this is through “wakewalking” (as opposed to sleepwalking), which is a kind of meditation for writers. To wakewalk, take a walk outside and name some of the things you see, such as a tree, rock, or stream. Then describe one of these things using all five of your senses. As you interact with the object, write down your internal feelings about it. It might stir up an old emotion or memory, or you might find a new way to describe it. By wakewalking, you can practice relating to the world and writing about the connections you make.
Zinsser advises against changing your writing identity from piece to piece. He gives two reasons for this advice:
First, writing in your own voice will help you develop your identity since you’ll be consistently practicing writing in your unique voice. Eventually, your voice will come to you immediately and naturally when you write. For example, if you wanted to be a great Impressionist-style painter, you should paint consistently in the Impressionist style, not in a contemporary or cubist style.
Second, keeping your voice consistent makes your writing identity recognizable to readers. Zinsser believes your writing identity is your trademark as a writer, so don’t throw it away by switching up your voice.
(Shortform note: Many bloggers’ success stems from developing a signature writing voice that readers instantly recognize. For example, readers recognize Mark Manson for his unashamed use of curse words, his storytelling, and his way of writing to the reader like a friend. Manson’s blog quickly gained a large following, so when he published The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck, he already had a dedicated audience who was interested in his writing style and what he had to say.)
As you write, you’ll face many creative decisions that will shape your writing identity. To make these decisions, you should develop good taste. Zinsser acknowledges that the idea of taste is vague, but it can loosely be defined as understanding the creative decisions that do and don’t work for you. Every word you choose, every sentence you construct, every mood you convey—these are all creative decisions.
(Shortform note: Experts agree with Zinsser’s definition of taste as the filter through which you evaluate your creative impulses. Taste is someone’s personal preferences of cultural, design, or aesthetic patterns. The writer Johann Wolfgang von Goethe said, “There is nothing worse than imagination without taste.” He believed in using taste to decide which creative ideas to express in your art and which to ignore.)
To develop good taste, first identify your favorite writers—writers whose taste and creative decisions you admire. Once you’ve identified those writers, study their writing and emulate their style. Take the time to mirror their techniques and find what works for you. Don’t be afraid of copying them—Zinsser believes you’ll eventually graduate into your own unique voice and naturally develop your own sense of good taste.
However, don’t unfairly compare yourself to other writers—it’s not a competition. Zinsser recommends accepting where you are in your writing journey and focusing on your own progress.
Develop Good Taste by Emulating Great Writers
In Steal Like an Artist, Austin Kleon echoes Zinsser’s advice to take inspiration from great art and artists in any medium because doing so will help you create better art. Kleon compares the artistic process to genetics: Just like individuals are the products of the gene pools of each parent, art is the product of other art and ideas. While you can’t choose your DNA, you can carefully choose the art and artists you take inspiration from for your work.
Instead of thinking of other great artists as your competition or as an unattainable ideal, think of them as mentors. Kleon recommends studying one artist, her work, and what you like about her work. Kleon believes that by copying your mentor’s work and creative process, you’ll create something new. This is because you’ll inevitably fail to create a perfect copy of your mentor’s work, since it’s personal to her and her tastes, and the ways in which you’re different from your creative mentor will reveal your own unique strengths and develop your taste. For example, when she was a teenager, Joan Didion studied Ernest Hemingway’s writing, which influenced her own minimalist writing style. Despite their stylistic similarities, Joan Didion couldn’t write The Old Man and the Sea, just like Ernest Hemingway couldn’t write Slouching Towards Bethlehem—each story was personal to its writer.
When thinking about taste, keep these three key points in mind:
When developing good taste, avoid being breezy. Zinsser explains breeziness as trying too hard to sound casual or friendly. Consider this breezy example: “Well guys, do I have a story for you! The other day, I took a jaunt over to the store, and I just couldn’t help myself—that bar of chocolate was calling my name.” As a result of breeziness, this writing sounds unnatural and unpleasant to read. If you wouldn’t talk like this, don’t write breezily either.
(Shortform note: E.B. White takes Zinsser’s idea one step further, stating breezy writing is the work of an egocentric person. He cautions that not all of your thoughts are of interest to everyone. Find balance between being spontaneous and being thoughtful in your writing.)
When developing good taste, don’t make any creative decisions that make you sound condescending or like you’re talking down to your reader. Consider this example: “It’s actually really easy to avoid being condescending—obviously just don’t over-explain concepts. Most people already know this, but don’t make someone feel bad for not understanding something.”
To avoid being condescending, write like how you’d talk to a friend you respect. Be logical and thorough in your explanations, but trust readers to make obvious connections.
(Shortform note: To avoid sounding condescending, experts advise avoiding the words “actually” and “just.” These words give the impression that you’re talking down to your reader or oversimplifying a topic. Additionally, “simply,” “you should,” and “you know you can” are all condescending ways to start a sentence since they command a reader to do something or assume a reader’s level of knowledge.)
When developing identity and good taste, your writing should sound unique, so avoid using clichés. Zinsser explains that clichés are phrases that are so overused that they lose all meaning and impact, and they ruin the chance to express something in a new and creative way.
Not only do clichés make you sound like an amateur writer, they don’t describe what you mean. For example, “She made it in the nick of time,” could be expressed in a better way. Maybe instead of using this cliché, you could describe how this person sped into the parking lot of her destination and rushed into the building. Think of different ways to show what you mean, instead of adding an overused cliché.
(Shortform note: Unlike Zinsser, some experts believe clichés are okay to use since they carry cultural context. Many clichés originated several decades ago—and sometimes hundreds of years ago—yet these clichés have stayed in use despite the changing nature of our language. Therefore, some experts believe clichés have survived for a reason—because they’re useful and speak to a shared culture. However, as with euphemisms (discussed earlier), readers won’t understand a cliché if they don’t have the cultural context for it. Therefore, you can make the creative decision on whether or not to use clichés.)
For unique and engaging writing, Zinsser believes that you must find humanity, or the part of your writing that your reader will connect with. Humanity speaks to some shared experience or deeper truth about being human. For example, in Educated, Tara Westover speaks to the experience of overcoming family limitations and the importance of education. These are deeper truths a reader can relate to, even if he didn’t grow up in a survivalist Mormon family.
Zinsser believes humanity is why people read stories about niche topics like fly-fishing or rock climbing. It’s not because everyone has a specific interest or knowledge of these things, but because we can relate to the people who do have a passion or interest in something. We resonate with someone’s resilience through hardship or search for meaning because most of us have had similar experiences. Consider what deeper truth your story speaks to.
How to Find the Humanity in Writing
Writers are often told to “write what you know.” One expert believes this means that your writing should reveal an emotional truth you know rather than factual knowledge. She urges you to write from your values, experiences, and worldview because other people will relate to your perspective. Take the time to reflect on your views about the world, and see what inspiration you find.
If you’re still struggling to speak to some truth about humanity, consider referring to this list of common themes of humanity, such as the fear of failure, coming of age, corruption of power, or loss of innocence. You can probably think of personal experiences that relate to some of these themes—try writing about one of those experiences and discover what kind of insights naturally come through in your writing.
Incorporating humanity, or some truth about being human, will make your writing more engaging. Let’s identify some underlying truths in your writing so you can craft more compelling stories in the future.
Think of a story you’re currently writing, would like to write, or wrote in the past. What was the story about? Give a brief description of the piece.
Now dig a little deeper. What was your writing really about? What kind of truth did it speak to? Perhaps your company memo was really about the desire to improve your sales performance or your profile on a local baker was about the preservation of family values and customs.
Finally, think about what truths you value most, such as family or loyalty. If nothing immediately comes to mind, consider what kind of stories you gravitate toward—maybe you like murder mysteries and the search for justice or knowledge, or maybe you like biographies of entrepreneurs and their ability to overcome obstacles and solve important problems. Describe what truths you’d enjoy exploring.
Now that you understand Zinsser’s general principles of good writing, we’ll explore Zinsser’s more specific advice on writing. We’ll discuss the decisions behind constructing a piece of writing and common problems of writing in specific nonfiction genres.
Zinsser believes that deciding how to start a piece is one of the most difficult decisions you’ll make when writing. The first sentence—known as your lead or lede—is your most important one. Your lead should capture your reader’s interest and compel her to keep reading. Give your reader enough information to keep her interested, but don’t spoil your whole story—otherwise she won’t have a reason to keep reading.
He explains that a lead can look different depending on the story and the writer. Some leads may last a paragraph or a page. Others might only take a few sentences. But Zinsser believes shorter leads are more impactful—the faster you can hook a reader’s interest, the faster you can move on and discuss your ideas or topic.
Avoid These Types of Leads
Zinsser admits that there are many different ways to write a good lead, and other writers echo this claim. It can be helpful to know which kinds of leads to avoid, so you can focus on writing one that’s compelling. For a strong lead, avoid these common pitfalls:
Clichés and bad puns. Not only do these make your reader roll their eyes, but they’re also not a tasteful way to start your piece. For example, a Huffpost article started with this pun: “Authorities did Nazi this coming.”
Long sentences. The lead isn’t the place to explore too many ideas or tangents—you have the rest of your story to do that.
Trying too hard. Don’t try to sound too clever or funny because you’ll wind up losing your reader’s interest if they have to figure out your meaning. This tactic also overpromises—usually a piece with a too-clever lead doesn’t have very clever ideas.
Saying someone “could never have predicted.” This isn’t an informative or interesting way to start a piece because we rarely make accurate predictions about what will happen to us.
The weather. Usually commenting on the weather doesn’t add interest or meaning, so don’t describe it in your lead.
Once you effectively hook your reader with a compelling lead, the next key step is to keep their attention through the body of your piece. Varying your paragraph length can help you do this, setting the pace of your writing by using both long and short paragraphs.
Zinsser explains that some paragraphs will naturally be longer than others—maybe you’re giving more detail in this paragraph. But if you make all of your paragraphs too long, you’ll lose your reader’s attention in a sea of words. Other paragraphs will naturally be shorter—maybe you’re recounting action and want to create a sense of urgency. But if all of your paragraphs are too short, your piece will feel choppy and disjointed.
(Shortform note: If you’re struggling with your paragraph length, include a topic sentence at the beginning of every sentence. A topic sentence will discipline you to discuss only one main idea in each paragraph, thus guiding the discussion. When you move on to a new idea, start a new paragraph. Some ideas will take longer to discuss, resulting in longer paragraphs, while others will only take a few sentences or less. By using topic sentences, you’ll naturally vary your paragraph length.)
Once you’ve crafted a compelling lead and kept your readers’ interest throughout the body of your piece, you’ll need to end your story, which is your final impression on your reader. So how and when should you end your story?
Zinsser advises ending a story as soon as your piece is fully developed. If you stretch your story out beyond this point, you’ll find yourself exploring the same themes and summarizing what you’ve written, which is repetitive. The body of your story already told your reader the information she needed and you don’t have to repeat it to her.
However, don’t leave your reader unsatisfied by cutting your piece too short without fully exploring a topic. Zinsser believes that if your piece is underdeveloped, you’ve wasted both your time and your reader’s.
To end a piece, encapsulate the main idea of the story without summarizing the whole thing. Zinsser has a few suggestions:
1) Bring the story back to where it started. Reference an idea you introduced at the beginning of the piece, or use a quote that encapsulates the overall idea of the piece.
2) End the story with a surprise. Add an unexpected element, like a joke or an odd detail, that still encompasses the main idea. For example, in “Meditations on the Harp,” M. G. Stephens ends his piece with this sentence: “On the way back to the motel on the beach, I buy a pair of cross-training sneakers at a factory outlet, I eat McDonald’s french fries and some chicken fajitas, I wonder why I have yet to taste a good orange or drink some fresh-squeezed orange juice, or why I imagine that I am feeling nothing about being on the Gulf Coast of Florida, and even less about my father’s death.” These last seven words are in stark contrast to the rest of the sentence, offering the reader a surprise.
Other Ways to End a Story
If you’re still struggling with how to end a story, you’re not alone—it’s a common problem for writers. Writer Bruce DeSilva notes that there’s a lot that an ending must do: tell your reader the story is over, emphasize your main idea, make your reader think even after finishing the piece, and occur at the right time. He also believes truly great endings have an element of surprise. Other experts offer advice on the specific kinds of endings for nonfiction:
1) The Lesson Learned: If the purpose of your essay is to share a new understanding or realization, try ending with the lesson you learned. But be sure not to preach or talk down to your reader when relaying the lesson.
2) The Lyric Moment: This is an ending that uses a poetic structure of words, repetition, or meter to create a lyrical effect. For example, Don Tate ended his book with the lines, "George's love of words had taken him on a great journey. Words made him strong. Words allowed him to dream. Words loosened the chains of bondage long before his last day as a slave." The repetition of “words” at the start of each sentence creates a lyrical pace and poetic effect.
3) The Open Ending: This is the kind of ending that is up to the reader’s interpretation. There are multiple ways your reader could understand the ending, usually leaving her with questions.
4) The Circle Back: In this ending, your ending connects back to the beginning of your piece. This makes your writing feel complete, even if you didn’t provide any kind of solution or lesson.
5) The Abrupt Ending: This ending occurs after building the momentum of your piece. You end your piece unexpectedly, rather than gradually drawing it to a close. But be careful when using this ending—your piece shouldn’t feel unfinished.
Now that you have the basics for writing well in any genre, let’s discuss Zinsser’s specific advice for nonfiction writing. To write better nonfiction, first dispel the myth that nonfiction is boring. Some people have the misconception that nonfiction writing is uncreative, especially when compared to fiction. But Zinsser contends that this isn’t true. Nonfiction writing allows us to creatively explore the truth of everyday life and the experience of being human.
The benefit to writing nonfiction is that you have many people, places, and lives to draw inspiration from without the pressure of creating fictional characters, places, or events. Zinsser encourages writers to be interested in new ideas and experiences because these will give you more engaging topics to write about.
The Blurry Line Between Nonfiction and Fiction
Experts expand on Zinsser’s idea that nonfiction can be as creative and engaging as fiction, contending that the line between fiction and nonfiction can be a blurry one. There are many fictional stories based heavily on real events, and there are many nonfiction stories that take liberties with the definition of “truth.”
For example, The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien discusses the narrator’s (whose name is also Tim O’Brien) experience in the Vietnam War—yet the book is classified as historical fiction. Conversely, in Annie Dillard’s nonfiction book Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, the opening paragraph of her story describes an experience that didn’t actually happen to Dillard—she adapted the story from someone else’s experience. Thus one main difference between the genres is whether the writer categorizes the work as fiction or nonfiction, thus drawing their own line between fiction and nonfiction.
By writing simply, clearly, and in your own voice, you’ll have the skills to write in any genre. But writing engaging nonfiction also has its challenges. Zinsser discusses eight specific genres of nonfiction and common problems writers face when writing in these genres.
Zinsser encourages writers to include interviews incorporating direct quotes and information from another person into their pieces. By including someone else’s perspective in their own words—not yours—your writing will have more humanity and be more engaging.
(Shortform note: Other experts also encourage the use of interviews, noting that they can engage your reader through pathos—an emotional appeal to your audience. By discussing a topic with someone who knows about or is directly affected by it, you’ll connect with your reader. For example, a news story about a flood will be more engaging if the journalist includes an interview with a family whose home was destroyed by the flood than if the journalist just gave the statistics about the flood damage.)
To conduct a good interview, Zinsser offers these steps:
1) Identify who you want to interview. Find someone who knows about the topic you’re covering or would be an interesting profile. Be sincere about your interest in this person and what they have to say. Don’t worry about inconveniencing them with an interview—most people jump at the chance to talk about themselves.
2) Start talking to them, and wait for them to get comfortable. This may mean talking to them multiple times as you gain their trust. You also shouldn’t start taking physical notes yet—that’s a quick way to ensure someone doesn’t relax.
3) As you interview them, find what’s interesting. Don’t be afraid if you don’t know anything about that person’s field. If you don’t know anything about the topic, the average reader probably doesn’t either. Use your lack of knowledge to help guide the interviewee to tell you what you (and ultimately the reader) need to know, and don’t be afraid to ask dumb questions.
4) Be prepared to tell your interviewee to stop so you have time to write things down. Zinsser recommends physically writing things down rather than recording your interview because writing is the whole point. If you record the interview, you become an audio editor. You also risk technological malfunctions with your recorder. In some instances, a recorder can be helpful (such as for capturing diction), but in general, write physical notes.
5) Don’t be afraid to call your interviewee after your conversation if you need clarification on any quotes or ideas.
6) When incorporating the interview into your piece, be sure to uphold the integrity of your interviewee, but also don’t be afraid to rearrange and edit quotes if you can preserve the speaker’s meaning. Doing so is part of your role as a writer and interviewer: to make your interviewee sound good.
Tips for Interviewing
As Zinsser notes, interviews can be intimidating for many writers. But don’t let this stop you from doing an interview. Your first few interviews may not go smoothly, but you’ll develop your skills the more you do them. Experts also offer tips for conducting a good interview:
Before the interview:
1) Choose the interview format. Experts recommend phone calls, video calls, or in-person meetings, but avoid email because you’ll miss important things like tone and facial expressions. Decide which format is right for your story. For example, if you’re doing a profile of the person you’re interviewing, it’s better to meet in person or on a video call. This will give you more detail to work with—what were they wearing? How did they say that line? What kind of mannerisms did they have?
2) Come prepared. While Zinsser advises against using recorders, some journalists use them. But always have a backup—either use two recorders or one recorder and handwritten notes. That way, if your recorder malfunctions, you won’t lose your interview.
3) If possible, don’t give the interviewee questions in advance. If your interviewee over-prepares, you won’t get as many honest, casual answers during the interview. The spontaneity will force you to listen critically in the interview so you can ask a relevant follow-up question to their answers.
4) Introduce yourself. Let your interviewee know who you are, what you’re writing, and what publication you’re writing for (if any). This lets them know upfront who you are and where they stand with you.
During the interview:
1) Be yourself. An interview is just a conversation to learn more about a person or subject. So don’t turn into a stuffier or more robotic version of yourself, otherwise people won’t feel comfortable enough to talk to you.
2) Let your interviewee talk—be an active listener and avoid interrupting him.
3) Give yourself enough time to talk to each other—generally this means at least 30 minutes.
4) Stay focused. If you and your interviewee explore a tangent, be sure to get back on track to your main point.
5) Be courteous and respectful to your interviewee. This means letting them know you’re recording (if you are) and saying thank you afterward. If possible, send your interviewee the published article.
Humor is a writing form that uses a lighthearted or funny approach to reveal absurd or harsh truths about humanity. Zinsser believes sometimes not being “serious” is the best and only way to talk about serious topics, like war, famine, violence, and so on.
For example, in “Thirty-Nine Rules for Making a Hawaiian Funeral into a Drinking Game,” Kristiana Kahakauwila reveals truths about family dynamics and cultural traditions through turning the emotional experience of a funeral into a humorous drinking game.
If you’re writing and find something humorous, include it. Zinsser advises against worrying about whether or not people will think it’s funny—if you genuinely think it’s funny, someone else will too. And you can always change your mind about it later.
Zinsser provides a few tips for writing humor:
How to Write Humor
If you’re struggling to write humor, first try identifying your own sense of humor. What do you find funny? One-liners? Wit? Sarcasm? Dark humor? Anecdotes? Self-deprecation? Read different types of humor to identify your style. Once you’ve identified your humor, try drawing from your personal experience for inspiration. What kind of funny anecdotes could you write about?
Once you’ve identified what type of humor you like, you can incorporate it into your writing. David Sedaris offers a few tips for writing humor:
Test out your humor in a casual situation. Tell your story to friends or family and include the humor—did they laugh? If not, consider workshopping the story or joke.
Be honest about your own flaws. The more honest you are about yourself, the more relatable you’ll be to your audience. And readers enjoy personal accounts that they can relate to.
Don’t be afraid of writing about a negative or sad personal experience. You can connect with your audience on a deeper level when you explore a wider range of emotions.
Unlike Zinsser, Sedaris encourages exaggerating parts of your story. Doing so will highlight the ridiculousness of a situation.
The next time you’re writing, try some of these tips to incorporate humor to connect with your reader through laughter.
Travel writing describes a place, the people who live there, and what it’s like to be there. But these features should reveal a deeper truth about the city or its people. What’s special about this place and its people?
But travel writers fall into some common traps:
1) Switching attitudes: Writers often start by casually telling readers about their experiences in a new place before changing to a more detached travel guide style. Pick one tone, and keep it consistent throughout the piece.
(Shortform note: To avoid switching attitudes, experts recommend following one narrative thread throughout your travel writing. Doing so will link your piece from beginning to end, creating cohesion. With one main narrative thread, you’ll also be less likely to explore different facts about the place that will cause you to sound like a typical travel guide. For example, in “Heart of Dark Chocolate,” the author begins the piece by describing first tasting Bolivian chocolate and how that compelled him to travel to Bolivia to discover the source of the chocolate. Through this narrative thread, we learn about Bolivia, the rainforest, the cuisine, and the people there.)
2) False novelty: Keep in mind that you are not the first or only person to visit or live in this place. Many people have already visited Paris and described the city’s fashion and the Eiffel Tower—what makes your experience of this place different from everyone else’s?
Write Original Stories by Traveling Without Expectations
To avoid false novelty, you should rethink how you travel, not just how you write about traveling. In his essay “How To Write About Africa,” Kenyan author Binyavanga Wainaina exposes the hurtful and demeaning common attitudes of travelers who visit Africa. He implies that many travelers go to Africa with an idea of what Africa should be and then write about experiences that confirm those biases, rather than experiencing anything meaningful about Africa. This kind of travel results in travel stories that discuss the same experiences, descriptions, and tourist destinations.
Experts agree with Wainaina’s idea—they find that by expecting certain experiences, travelers may actually be less likely to find authentic, original travel stories or even enjoy their trip for what it is. Instead, focus on learning about this place and its people, rather than supporting existing ideas or expectations about what that place already is or isn’t.
3) Using clichés: Writers often describe busy Middle Eastern “bazaars” and “exotic” safari trips. These are unoriginal, overused descriptions, and Zinsser advises against using them.
(Shortform note: As you write about your travels, consult this list of common travel clichés to eliminate from your piece, including “a breathtaking view,” “off the beaten path,” and “a blend of old and new.”)
4) Stating the obvious: When describing a new place, writers often state the obvious, such as discussing the desert heat. Heat is a standard characteristic of a desert, so telling the reader this detail is redundant.
(Shortform note: Zinsser doesn’t discuss it here, but stating the obvious is a form of clutter. It creates redundancy and uses more words than necessary. But adding unexpected details does add value, like if there was a random thunderstorm in the desert.)
5) Lacking humanity: Travel writers often describe the things you can do in a city or the typical food there, resulting in a detached and impersonal tone. But these features don’t reveal any deeper truth about the city or its people. What’s special about this place and its people?
(Shortform note: When thinking about Zinsser’s idea of travel writing as understanding the humanity of a place and its people, consider Erich Fromm’s distinction between looking and seeing to improve your ability to find and write deeper truths about a place and its people. He relates looking to an interest in lifeless, immobile artifacts. But unlike simply looking at something, seeing implies a recognition of the life or humanity in something. Seeing requires embracing your own humanity, openness, and interest in the world. So rather than trying to use your writing as a form of looking, write with the intent to see the life of a place and its people.)
Sportswriting is a form of nonfiction that reports on topics involving sports, such as athletes, games, and competitions. Zinsser notes two problems sportswriters face: making the story about them and flaunting their knowledge.
First, while Zinsser recommends writing from your own perspective, don’t make a story all about you. He believes sportswriters often make themselves and their knowledge the focus rather than the athlete or the game. For example, you can report on a professional basketball game without describing your personal history of playing basketball in grade school.
Second, many sportswriters flaunt their knowledge by describing what it’s like to be an athlete or to suffer a particular injury. But sportswriters don’t have the expertise to comment on the mindset of a certain athlete or to explain what an injury felt like.
Types of Sports Stories
Zinsser discusses common problems with sportswriting, but he doesn’t expand on the purpose or different types of sportswriting. To improve your sportswriting, first identify the key components of any sports story: the highlights of the game, the team names, the score, and when and where the game took place. Make these elements the most important part of the story—details and commentary should only support these main elements.
Then identify what kind of sports story you’re writing. There are five main types of sportswriting:
1) Straight-Lead Game Story: This is the most common kind of sportswriting, and it provides a basic summary of the game. You should quickly present the final score, who won, and what the star player did during the game.
2) Feature Game Story: These stories present a fresh look at a game and are more in-depth than a straight-lead game story. For example, you could discuss the coach’s background to give more context to the game. However, the game should be the focus, not your opinion.
3) Columns: If you’re writing a column, your opinions will be a focal point of the piece. You can share your thoughts or frustrations with a team, coach, player, or game.
4) Profiles: Profiles discuss the story and experiences of an individual person, such as an athlete or coach.
5) Season Preview or Wrap-Up: These stories provide a top-level, general look at a game season. Preview stories illustrate expectations of an upcoming game season, including predictions or attitudes about the teams. Wrap-up stories discuss the game season as a whole after it has ended.
Zinsser explains that criticisms are another popular form of nonfiction, where an author reviews the artistic merit of a creative work. This work can be in any medium, such as visual art, literature, cinema, and so on. He believes that the writer should appreciate and be familiar with the medium as a whole since criticisms situate the work into the broader context of other similar works. For example, when writing a review of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, you could situate the reader into the genre of 1980’s teen movies, such as The Breakfast Club and Grease.
(Shortform note: Zinsser focuses on using criticisms to situate readers into the broader context of a genre. But in How to Read a Book, Mortimer J. Adler and Charles van Doren explain that criticizing a book means to comment, “I agree,” “I disagree,” or “I suspend judgment.” Their views can also be adapted for other media. When you’re criticizing an author, Adler and Van Doren caution against being overly contentious or combative. A discussion isn’t something to be won: It’s an opportunity to discover the truth. Remember that disagreement is an opportunity to learn something new.)
Zinsser provides advice for critics:
1) Go into the criticism with an open mind. If you anticipate hating the movie or book you’re critiquing, this will alter your perception—and your writing—of the work. Zinsser believes a critic who is negative about everything she reviews is being lazy.
(Shortform note: In How to Read a Book, Mortimer J. Adler and Charles van Doren agree with Zinsser’s advice to have an open mind when criticizing. They encourage you to earnestly try to take the author’s point of view as you read. They also advise against playing devil’s advocate by default. Don’t resent the author for being right or teaching you something new.)
2) Don’t be too technical. Zinsser argues that writers use jargon to sound intelligent, like mentioning a specific camera technique in film. Because most readers lack this technical vocabulary, they won’t understand these references.
(Shortform note: While you should avoid using jargon, other experts believe it’s okay to comment on technical aspects, such as the camera angles in a movie. But pointing out these technical aspects should support a larger idea, like how the camera angle creates a certain mood, not just pointing out a technique for the sake of pointing it out. When pointed out to support your commentary, it can enhance your piece since it will provide more description for the reader.)
3) Avoid spoilers. Don’t explain the whole plot of the novel or movie. Instead, give the reader enough information to determine whether or not she wants to read or see the work.
(Shortform note: Many people claim to dislike spoilers since they only have one chance to experience a creative work for the first time—after that the ending is automatically spoiled. But a study found that spoiling a story may actually increase someone’s enjoyment of the work since they’ll be able to make connections about important elements and themes of the story. If you’re unsure about whether to include a spoiler, try including a disclaimer before the portion of the article that contains spoilers, allowing the reader to choose whether or not to spoil the creative work for themselves.)
4) Show, don’t tell. Use examples and descriptions of the artist’s work to illustrate the point you’re making. For example, rather than saying the costumes were drab or boring, write about how the muted brown dress hung loosely on the protagonist.
(Shortform note: Experts explain that showing what you saw is the first step in critiquing a work. You must first describe what you saw, so that you can then analyze, interpret, and evaluate the work—if you don’t provide any descriptions, your reader won’t have the necessary context to understand why you arrived at your conclusion of the piece.)
5) Be confident about your perspective on the work. Don’t backtrack on what you said with phrases like “but it’s too soon to tell.” This undermines your credibility as a critic.
(Shortform note: In How to Read a Book, Mortimer J. Adler and Charles van Doren give another reason to confidently express your perspective. They believe that if you don’t acknowledge and express the feelings that come up as you experience the work, those feelings will fester and actually prevent you from evaluating the piece with a clear head.)
In a memoir, a writer describes a specific event or point in time that he experienced. Zinsser explains that unlike an autobiography—which discusses the writer’s life story—a memoir has a narrow focus. If you want to write a memoir, Zinsser recommends picking a specific idea, moment, or theme from your personal experience. Then write about that instance in depth, conveying the importance of that idea to you and your life. The more detailed you can be, the better. Details will paint a more complete picture of this idea or moment.
Zinsser notes that memoir writers are often timid about writing for or about themselves. He believes your story—whatever it is—is important and worth writing. Don’t doubt yourself or wonder if people will want to read it—they will.
The Exploitation of Trauma in Online Publishing
Unlike Zinsser, other experts caution writers against narrowing your focus on certain kinds of personal stories since not everyone will be receptive to some kinds of experiences—particularly traumatic ones. When writing about your personal experiences, consider the ramifications of how your story may be received, affect your job opportunities, or alter your relationship with loved ones.
Many writers and editors have noticed a shift in what kinds of personal stories are in demand, stating that stories centered around intense trauma and hardship are published more than others. Experts admit that these intense stories often receive more attention, particularly online, than less extreme pieces. This publication environment places a premium on revealing trauma, thus creating an unhealthy relationship between increasing monetization or clicks and oversharing complex experiences. But many editors now worry about whether or not a writer can handle the stress of having these stories published and forever associated with their name on the internet.
While in some cases, these stories may be therapeutic to write, the authors of the pieces can face backlash and judgment from readers. Some writers who have published their stories note that it’s now harder for them to write about their personal experiences after the scrutiny they faced in the past, stating that they would now reconsider publishing those stories.
Science and technology writing is a nonfiction genre that centers on technical subjects. Zinsser argues that science and technical writers often lack humanity in their pieces, resulting in an overly-logical and impersonal article. To avoid this, write like yourself, not a robot. Imagine how you’d explain this subject to a friend or family member in a casual conversation, then translate that onto paper.
Zinsser recommends focusing on humanity first and incorporating extra information later if it really adds anything to your story. People don’t want to read through lots of statistics, numbers, and studies even when reading about science and technology. That doesn’t mean you can’t include statistics or studies in your writing, but don’t overdo it—otherwise your article will quickly sound impersonal.
Incorporate Humanity Into Your Writing by Telling a Story About Real People
To incorporate humanity into science and technology writing, tell a story about real people. Many science writers think that explaining the widespread effects of an issue will persuade their audience of an issue’s importance. But this approach relies on the abstract principles of the problem. Instead, be specific by discussing a real person or group and how this research affects them. Your reader can relate to this person and understand the effects through this lens.
For example, Michael Lewis uses this approach in many of his books—he blends technical information and narrative, thus making his research more digestible. In Flash Boys, he discusses the complexities of the US stock market and high-frequency trading through the story of an individual trader who figured out the nuances of these unfair trading techniques. Through this trader’s narrative, the reader learns about the information on a more personal level.
In most companies, employees use some form of written communication, such as emails, memos, copywriting, newsletters, or social media captions. All of these different forms are types of business writing. Zinsser believes his principles of simplicity and clarity are important for business writing—employees and customers who read business writing should understand it. Remember that your whole purpose in writing is to convey an idea to someone. If no one understands your confusing email or memo, why write it?
Zinsser notes that it can be easy to stray from simplicity in business communication. Like scientific or technical writing, business writers often use jargon and confusing sentences to sound important or intelligent. But Zinsser explains that this kind of complex writing confuses a reader and makes her think a company is pretentious.
(Shortform note: The authors of Rework echo Zinsser’s belief in the importance of business writing. They take the idea one step further, saying that companies should hire people who can write simply and clearly, even if it’s for a programming or engineering position. According to a 2013 study, 73.4% of employers now look for good writing skills for new hires. Like Zinsser, these experts believe clear writing is an indicator of clear thinking, which is a skill 93% of employers want. Thus having good writing skills may improve your hiring chances.)
Additionally, Zinsser recommends that you make your business writing sound personal. He believes a reader wants to know that she’s reading the words of a person, not a business. Organizations can’t write emails or memos—people do.
(Shortform note: Companies have embraced Zinsser’s version of personal business writing and are now creating consistent brand voices, or the unique personality of their communications with consumers. One key element of a brand voice is identifying what kind of person your business would be and using that idea to communicate with customers. For example, Nike’s brand voice persona is an athlete who uses strong, inspiring language to motivate consumers.)