C.S. Lewis on Writing
lettersofnote.com
lettersofnote.com
My high school journalism teacher (and I'm sure many others) phrased this as "Show, don't tell". I wish all writing/journalism classes devoted a week to this precept.
I'm quite sure they already do. The persistence of writing that tells rather than shows owes to the usual causes, i.e. a shortage of motivation, confidence, ability and/or time on the part of the writer.
Critical advice.
It's a safe bet that no fourth grader, no matter how extraordinary, has come across those two words by that point in his life. So, of course, everyone in the class was puzzled by them. The phrase might as well have been some ancient, Latin dictum -- and, for all we knew, it was.
Finally, one day, someone mustered the courage to ask her what the words meant.
"It's a rule for good writing," she said. "When you understand what it means, you're already in danger of breaking it."
But "prolixity" does not mean using long words.
Incidentally, the same class also served as the first of my many introductions to Strunk & White. We were way too young for their book, but it never hurts to start early.
Here's a nice list of common phases that can be eschewed without worry: http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__oMEOi1B6Rc/TDxuvGxYfeI/AAAAAAAAAA...
"Obfuscation" is too, for that matter, but I don't want to ask for too much here :)
-- @stevenkaas
Rules aren't really rules—they're principles. Part of knowing how to write is knowing when and how to bend or break those principles.
Definitely. I even think that verbosity is a completely acceptable choice given the right context and purpose.
Still very much fun to read these old classics, and the intention of the writer comes through despite these 1920's pulp idioms, so it was intensely enjoyable, but I would say that this style of writing definitely shows its age.
(I also recently read John Carter and the Princess of Mars, which was written around the same era, and it's equally silly but for different reasons.)
> Critics always laugh at H. P. Lovecraft, the American horror writer -- they laught at his style. They laugh at stuff such as "the stars shone sinisterly". They ask how can a sinisterly-shining-star shine any differently from other stars. In short, they claim that the adverb is spurious. But it isn't so: that adverb makes feel that the stars are shining sinisterly. I can imagine a star shining sinisterly -- can't you?
> The prejudice against adjectives and adverbs will be regarded as a 20th century fad.
Better yet, the entire year. It's the single most valuable concept they teach in high school writing.
"Show, don't tell" without any adjectives can only be pure narration of events and metaphor. Maybe that is good. But it can take more words to say the same thing, and it's difficult. A good exercise though.
This is why I object to most usage of cursing in writing (see recent threads on the subject). Using the most extreme language for relatively mundane situations leaves you nothing to work with when extreme language is warranted. Ex.: using the phrasing "go the f^@& home" (see thread of same name) in a mundane discussion about work hours really is pretty pathetic insofar as it wastes & deflates extreme language better used where more appropriate, such as describing the feeling of having your rib cage pried open with a car jack (been there, done that, f^@& applies).
(Some of us suffer net-nannies, so pardon the veiling.)
Most of us don't find ourselves in places like that on a frequent basis.
This might be true of most action movies. If you're shooting it out with a band of Euro-trash criminals in a skyscraper, a 'yipi-ki-yay-mother-f%%ker' is appropriate.
Probably not so much picking up ice cream, milk and yogurt.
The first part is a small auto-biography as he states that "to understand writing you must understand what happens in the life of a writer".
The second part is full of clever and useful advices, including ones close to the one in this article.
Even if you don't like the author, you should really read this book if you're serious about writing.
Though to be fair at this point the only books on the craft I buy talk about specific topics (Dialogue, description, subtext, etc).
One recommendation that stuck with me is to avoid words ending in "ly". I now make that effort, and the results are an improvement.
For those who are wondering at the rationale behind this: many adverbs end in -ly. "The brown fox quickly ran", "she urgently asked", "he mercilessly ate his salad", etc.
Adverbs should be avoided, because, as danso notes, you must "show, not tell". When the brown fox "quickly" runs, you're telling the reader what happened. Similarly, when she "urgently" asks, you're not showing the reader what's going on.
Instead, you can describe what's happening with better verbs: "the brown fox sprinted after his dinner", "she pleaded for the answer key", "he attacked the tomato in his salad".
That's just one way to do it, of course. You can also describe the action in detail: "After skewering his tomato, Jessie brought it up to his mouth, where it tumbled into his esophagus".
I can't remember a case where he spoke or wrote about writing in a similar fashion to what C.S. Lewis wrote in his letter, but his 5 rules of writing[1] have been influential for many writers. Once, in an Annapolis address, he explained that the rules were simple (1. You must write. 2. You must finish what you write. ...) but only 1 in 10 would follow each step. This was how you could get from half of the adult US population wanting to be a writer to less than a thousand actually being members of the writing guild he belonged to.
I really like it when we can tie modern techy/businessy practices back to how someone would do things before the jargon those practices are often built on came into usage. I think it strengthens both the long term viability of the practice and our understanding of people who lived in the past.
I think your idea shows how CRM can be down-home and warm, which is a real drawback to the way it's generally approached. If relationships can be approached within a framework that makes it easier to manage them more productively without the "systemitization" swelling into the foreground, that's a win for everybody. I'm sure that's a big concern for SalesForce researchers.
A lot of it makes sense...In fact, I say Tim Peters lifted half of the Zen of Python from Lewis :)
Am I the only one that doesn't agree with this, at least in general? I mean, the idea behind the advice is of course sound, just a basic form of keep it simple stupid. But in this case, why? This isn't engineering, it's about communication of thoughts. And thoughts can be abstract. I find I can think more efficiently and also more rationally when using abstractions, especially ones I'm familiar with. Just like chunking in memory, there is data I have ready when you speak of mortality, instead of trying to explain to me in plain words that people die.
That said, it might just be me (or people like me). I have to constantly make a conscious effort of writing and speaking less abstractly, just to not annoy people. It might have to do with the fact that English is not my native tongue, and as I don't use it in my daily life, I lack the touch for concreteness to make sense to me that easily.
Often it's a case of writers trying to be overly clever with their wordplay. For example, you wouldn't want to say something like, "her posterior condition was greatly exaggerated," when what you meant was, "she has a big ass". Sure, the first sentence is "clever", but it's not very clear. The second sentence is right to the point; there's no mistaking the meaning, and it paints a better picture in one's mind.
It's similar to active voice vs. passive voice. "Dan hit the ball," is clear and to the point. "The ball was hit by Dan," paints a weaker picture, even if it says the same thing. Why is "ball" the subject of the sentence. Are we supposed to care about this ball? Aren't we talking about Dan here?
Clarity in writing is important. Readers don't like to be confused. Anything that breaks the "flow" should be avoided, unless that is your goal (e.g. to stop the reader and make them think).
Point 2 could be additionally descriptive
Point 3 -peaked- (piqued!) my interest
Point 4 was awesome
Point 5 should be universally implemented
ps. related: http://www.orwell.ru/library/essays/politics/english/e_polit
At any rate, his previous point about there being no "right" or "wrong" language is something that is absolutely true. I think that's the most important point in the letter, which is outside his list of five points.
> Point 3 peaked my interest
The homonym you want here is pique[1]
[1] http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/pique definition 3
I think that, in my opinion at least, these instructions apply VERY well to journalism, or perhaps certain types of fiction, but not fiction on the whole.
One of my recently favorite authors is Elmore Leonard, who breaks most of these rules with great ferocity, and is a fantastic writer on the whole.
He has his own rules on writing, but the first is:
"My most important rule is one that sums up the 10: If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it."
In contrast to CS Lewis' writings, this leads to much more believable dialog, but that doesn't necessarily conform to any of Lewis' rules. Characters are seldom terse when they could instead be interesting. Characters are seldom cautious to take care that the reader can fully understand what they're saying. Characters are seldom as specific as you might like them to be.
I find this to be much more natural, and feels much less "like writing" than most other authors and for that, I appreciate him immensely.
For example, The Elements of Style tells you to avoid the passive voice, on the grounds that sentences like "The sandwich was eaten by me," are much more awkward than "I ate the sandwich." It gives three sentences in support of this: "There were a great number of dead leaves lying on the ground," "It was not long before she was very sorry that she had said what she had," and "The reason that he left college was that his health became impaired." None of these sentences actually contain a passive: the first is an existential sentence, the second is a simple copula, and the third uses the copula with an adjective, not a participle.[1]
All of which is to say—Strunk and White did not know what a passive was. The actual advice they meant to give is something along the lines of, "Don't be vague about agency," but that is a different proscription. There are places where you should avoid the passive, and there are also places where you should employ the passive, because it is clearer than the alternative. For example, if your documentation says, "Our software product is used to [blah]", you should not change it to, "People use our software product to [blah]," because those people do not matter. By avoiding the passive, you have made your writing less clear by introducing unnecessary information.
Strunk and White have a lot of advice which is merely harmless, but it is not a spectacular writing guide, except for the simplest, least elaborate kinds of writing. Truly great writing is not writing which follows those rules, but writing that knows when to follow such rules. For example, Orwell and Churchill, both quite excellent writers, use the passive significantly more than journalists of the time[2].
[1]: The passive transforms sentences of the form "{noun1} {verb} {noun2}" into "{noun2} {be} {verb}ed [by {noun1}]"; it is (or should be) clear that these sentences cannot be transformed from the latter pattern into the former.
[2]: http://itre.cis.upenn.edu/~myl/languagelog/archives/003414.h...
(I totally agree that the "no passive voice" rule is oversubscribed btw.)
"(v) Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent."
Like saying "orthogonal" when you mean "unrelated".