Action
Everything begins with action. Nothing arouses the reader like action. Descriptions of action actually activate the parts of the brain associated with action. And for good reason. As the philosopher Hannah Arendt notes, action “has an inherent tendency to force open all limitations and cut across all boundaries.” We can never predict where an action might lead. When we depict it well, we command the reader’s complete attention.
Beats
Human expression requires a pulsing give-and-take. Just as people are wired to sing and dance, to love and play, we are also wired to share stories. And we love stories that show people acting and reacting. When people do things that matter, that push forward a story or argument, we cannot help but be riveted. Whether it’s a great moment of dialogue, witty banter, a complex puzzle explained well, or even a well-constructed joke, we love to watch people play ping pong with stories and ideas. In such situations, we do not want to miss a beat.
Characters
Giving stories fizz, of course, requires characters that we want to know, both in the real world and in the world of make-believe. A vibrant cast of characters reflects the human drama across the world and across history. Those characters also reflect the traits that we all find competing inside our own hearts and minds. We all have a hero within, and an anti-hero too. We all have a wise self and a foolish and impetuous one. We are rational, and we are artistic. We are creative and destructive. And when the characters in a story reflect this human complexity, we cannot help but tune in.
Details and Evidence
Details, details, details. Cognitive psychologist Dan Willingham notes, the human brain is not wired for abstraction. We need to live in the “here and now.” Once you give the reader a concrete world, you can show the abstract ideas that undergird that world.
Editing
But if the devil is in the details, strong writing requires being selective about those details. To find that mot juste, that word that tells, we need to edit, edit, edit. We need to take a sythe to our tangled prose and whack away the phragmites that choke the river’s flow. We need to make our nouns and verbs strong . . . and agreeable. We need to make sure each sentence starts strong and finishes strong. We need to craft paragraphs with purpose.
Form
And then give it all form. Some tales and theses require a straight line from A to B. Some stories start in the middle (in media res), others start at the end (like Pinter’s Betrayal), and still others in circles (like Nietzsche’s “eternal recurrence of the same”).
Grammar
Whatever form our stories tell, we need to mind our manners, which means, in writing, good grammar. Do verbs agree with verbs? Do the verbs say what you need them to say? Do you direct traffic adequately, with punctuation? Grammar gives writing a strong foundation. It’s like the street grid in a town: It helps us to get around without tripping over ourselves.
Hanging
Once we have created that predictable terrain, we can tease and play with readers with the cliffhanger. “The job of the artist,” Francis Bacon said, “is to always deepen the mystery.” You will always keep the reader’s attention if you make them ache for more information. Be like Hansel and Gretel, dropping breadcrumbs along their path. Make sure the reader always wants to continue, by sprinkling the group with unanswered questions and surprising answers.
Into the World of the Story
But where? When we go into the world of the story, we have the frame and canvas for everything that happens. Every story needs “a small, knowable place,” which helps to define the characters and dilemmas, without distracting the reader. In that setting, the characters can laugh and cry, scheme and fight, deny and learn, and grow.
Jazz Riffs
And, of course, play. Jazz riffs provide the playful tempo to writing. Words are internal music. Let loose the saxes and trumpets and drums of your language. Look loose, but know, always, that every moment of apparent spontaneous expression requires total mastery of the instrument.
Kinesthetic, Visual, Auditory
And what play is possible without the senses? The best writers help us to understand how everything feels (kinesthetic), looks (visual) and sounds (auditory).
Leads
Remember in media res, starting in the middle? Now I’m in the middle, talking about how to start. Maybe I should have started the alphabet with L. Oh, well. Anyway, you only get one chance to make a lasting impression. Your lead should grab the reader and never let go. In your opening lines, you want to intrigue, puzzle, stun, question, set up the reader.
Metaphors and Similes
Sometimes the best way to show what is, is to say that what isn’t actually is. Metaphors tell the reader that one thing is another: “All the world’s a stage” (Shakespeare). Similes, comparisons using like and as, offer a more modest approach: “Elderly American ladies leaning on their canes listed toward me like towers of Pisa” (Nabakov, Lolita). Explain one thing by referring to something else. As Dan Willingham says, learning is really just a process of remembering in a new way.
Narrative
But of course, such images are like nutrition-free bon-bons without a point. To give it a point, you need to begin one place and end another. Narrative takes the characters through a journey, which produces challenge and change. Do you take your reader anywhere?
Order and Numbers
But the best stories come in the right order. Start strong, finish strong. And use numbers to convey meaning. One isolates the character or idea. Two sets up a partnership or opposition (or a tense partnership, or friendly competition). Three offers dynamism: Every corner of the triangle shifts with the nudging of another corner. Four or more? It’s just a grocery list—which is good for, well, buying groceries.
Paragraphs
Think of paragraphs as rooms in a house. One purpose for each. Receive guests in the parlor. Cook in the kitchen. Eat in the dining room. Watch TV in the den. Work in the study. Sleep in the bedroom And so on. Give each paragraph a singular purpose. Keep it simple.
Questions
Each paragraph—and every piece of writing, as a whole—needs to raise a question. “Then what happened?” works for many stories. “Break it down” works for arguments.
Research and Reporting
How do you know? Inquiring minds want to know. To know anything, you must first search. Use books and articles, links and clips, interviews and questionnaires, experiments and observations. Pull the needles from those haystacks and build your own structure.
Sentences
Maybe we should have started here. After all Action—A, above—tells who does what to whom. And that’s the ideal core of every sentence: Subject-Verb-Object (SVO) or Subject-Verb-Predicate (SVP). As Papa Hemingway said, write “one true sentence”—a strong, taut, clear statement of what happens. If you do that, you will have the cornerstone of your edifice. Then you can put more and more stones, and build something strong and beautiful.
Thesis
What’s it all about? The Thesis wants to tell you. It’s all very simple: X → Y. Something causes something else. Or: Something plus something causes something else. All he world can be unlocked with causal statements.
Unexpected
Surprise! Without surprise, life is not an adventure, just an endless loop of a tape. If someone picks up your writing, you owe them a surprise. Tell them something they don’t know. Give readers something new to take home. Make every piece like a trip to a great department store. Give them something they would never find on their own.
Verbs
Just do it! A simple slogan for athletic shoes makes an important point. Life lies in action, in doing, in getting onto the field and stretching and straining to the limit. Make sure you show just how active life can be. Even when explaining indolence—like a day in the life of Oblomov—use action verbs.
Words
Treat every word like a gem. Look it over. See it’s different colors, the sharpness of its edges, its beauty in different lights, its character in different settings. And when you got to the Word Shop, just as when you go to the jewelry store, be picky. Buy just the right ones. And put them in the right place in your sentences. Unlike gems, words are free. That’s all the more reason to choose with discrimination.
eXplaining
Remember this: First one thing, then another. Avoid the temptation, when your brain holds all the answers like an old memory chest, to show everything you have at once. Let your stories and explanations unfold . . . like this: u n f o l d. First one thing, then another.
Yo-Yoing
Imagine Beethoven’s Fifth with only the pounding notes, or just the sweet ones. It would be monotonous, and draining. We need to shift back and forth, from one mood to another, from one kind of expression to another. Describe, then explain. Go from scene to summary. Show the reader the scene up close, then zoom out. Show a moment of anger, then love; fear, then relief; tension, then release; brain-straining, then simplicity.
Zip It Up
All good things must come to an end. The ending is the destination—the realization or dashing of the characters’ dreams. To end—to zip it up—you need to tell the reader the story’s over, leave an impression, and maybe even drop one last surprise.
