Ten Commandments of Writing

I feel cheated if the author doesn't provide an end. I've already invested time in their make-believe world and I expect a conclusion of some kind! I think it's either a cop-out (The author can't figure out how to end the book) or a gimmick (So artsy and ambiguous , whatever it means to you!)

That's my opinionated opinion, of course. I can't help but feeling let down and cheated if I'm not given closure!

i love ambiguity too, and frankly, sometimes it ruins a story for me if the author wraps it up to neatly, spoon-feeding me an explanation in the last pages. i'd much rather be forced to continue thinking about the story.

And to extend on this, I'm a big fan of the sequel opening. Even if it never materializes, I like the option of being able to speculate on the future of that character.

I don't like neatly wrapped up endings, but I do like an end. I can continue to think about the story without being "forced" to by an author's treachery! I just feel gypped. Can't help it.

while you're here, please explain rule 3.

i happen to be a fan of the second-person narrative and have been experimenting quite a bit with it myself. do you mean whole stories in second, or fragments, like when Chuck, for example, shifts from first to second and back again?

why don't you like it? do you feel bullied into the story?

I don't like being addressed and reminded that I'm reading. There are exceptions to all the rules! One of my favorite books uses second person: A Prayer for the Dying by Stewart O'Nan. I just think usually it's badly done. It really bothered me in 'If on A Winter's Night' by Italo Calvino. I couldn't finish it it was so annoying.

ah, fair enough. like all rules, they do have exceptions, but i totally agree with your saying it is usually done bad. well, maybe not usually, but it can be easily done awfully.

Yep. Like Matt and I quickly discussed there are exceptions to every one of my "rules". A writer should write whatever and however they want, but don't expect me to like it! Though I very well might.

My rule on second person is there are three options: 1. Do the entire piece in second person (real tough, best reserved for short stories) 2. Make the 2nd person bits a consistent part of the narrator's voice (don't have one paragraph of an entire novel start addressing the reader and never do it again) 3. Don't use it at all.

I prefer option 3. 2nd person is usually implemented in the same manner as duct tape: a lazy, cheap, ineloquent solution. But with first person narrations that use burnt tongue, option 2 is acceptable b/c it may add authenticity to the voice. But, as a general rule, I agree with Mirka. Just avoid it.

These are not mine, but from Mr. Elmore Leonard:

These are rules I've picked up along the way to help me remain invisible when I'm writing a book, to help me show rather than tell what's taking place in the story. If you have a facility for language and imagery and the sound of your voice pleases you, invisibility is not what you are after, and you can skip the rules. Still, you might look them over.

1. Never open a book with weather.

If it's only to create atmosphere, and not a character's reaction to the weather, you don't want to go on too long. The reader is apt to leaf ahead looking for people. There are exceptions. If you happen to be Barry Lopez, who has more ways to describe ice and snow than an Eskimo, you can do all the weather reporting you want.

2. Avoid prologues.

They can be annoying, especially a prologue following an introduction that comes after a foreword. But these are ordinarily found in nonfiction. A prologue in a novel is backstory, and you can drop it in anywhere you want.

There is a prologue in John Steinbeck's ''Sweet Thursday,'' but it's O.K. because a character in the book makes the point of what my rules are all about. He says: ''I like a lot of talk in a book and I don't like to have nobody tell me what the guy that's talking looks like. I want to figure out what he looks like from the way he talks. . . . figure out what the guy's thinking from what he says. I like some description but not too much of that. . . . Sometimes I want a book to break loose with a bunch of hooptedoodle. . . . Spin up some pretty words maybe or sing a little song with language. That's nice. But I wish it was set aside so I don't have to read it. I don't want hooptedoodle to get mixed up with the story.''

3. Never use a verb other than ''said'' to carry dialogue.

The line of dialogue belongs to the character; the verb is the writer sticking his nose in. But said is far less intrusive than grumbled, gasped, cautioned, lied. I once noticed Mary McCarthy ending a line of dialogue with ''she asseverated,'' and had to stop reading to get the dictionary.

4. Never use an adverb to modify the verb ''said'' . . .

. . . he admonished gravely. To use an adverb this way (or almost any way) is a mortal sin. The writer is now exposing himself in earnest, using a word that distracts and can interrupt the rhythm of the exchange. I have a character in one of my books tell how she used to write historical romances ''full of rape and adverbs.''

5. Keep your exclamation points under control.

You are allowed no more than two or three per 100,000 words of prose. If you have the knack of playing with exclaimers the way Tom Wolfe does, you can throw them in by the handful.

6. Never use the words ''suddenly'' or ''all hell broke loose.''

This rule doesn't require an explanation. I have noticed that writers who use ''suddenly'' tend to exercise less control in the application of exclamation points.

7. Use regional dialect, patois, sparingly.

Once you start spelling words in dialogue phonetically and loading the page with apostrophes, you won't be able to stop. Notice the way Annie Proulx captures the flavor of Wyoming voices in her book of short stories ''Close Range.''

8. Avoid detailed descriptions of characters.

Which Steinbeck covered. In Ernest Hemingway's ''Hills Like White Elephants'' what do the ''American and the girl with him'' look like? ''She had taken off her hat and put it on the table.'' That's the only reference to a physical description in the story, and yet we see the couple and know them by their tones of voice, with not one adverb in sight.

9. Don't go into great detail describing places and things.

Unless you're Margaret Atwood and can paint scenes with language or write landscapes in the style of Jim Harrison. But even if you're good at it, you don't want descriptions that bring the action, the flow of the story, to a standstill.

And finally:

10. Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.

A rule that came to mind in 1983. Think of what you skip reading a novel: thick paragraphs of prose you can see have too many words in them. What the writer is doing, he's writing, perpetrating hooptedoodle, perhaps taking another shot at the weather, or has gone into the character's head, and the reader either knows what the guy's thinking or doesn't care. I'll bet you don't skip dialogue.

My most important rule is one that sums up the 10.

If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it.

Or, if proper usage gets in the way, it may have to go. I can't allow what we learned in English composition to disrupt the sound and rhythm of the narrative. It's my attempt to remain invisible, not distract the reader from the story with obvious writing. (Joseph Conrad said something about words getting in the way of what you want to say.)

If I write in scenes and always from the point of view of a particular character -- the one whose view best brings the scene to life -- I'm able to concentrate on the voices of the characters telling you who they are and how they feel about what they see and what's going on, and I'm nowhere in sight.

What Steinbeck did in ''Sweet Thursday'' was title his chapters as an indication, though obscure, of what they cover. ''Whom the Gods Love They Drive Nuts'' is one, ''Lousy Wednesday'' another. The third chapter is titled ''Hooptedoodle 1'' and the 38th chapter ''Hooptedoodle 2'' as warnings to the reader, as if Steinbeck is saying: ''Here's where you'll see me taking flights of fancy with my writing, and it won't get in the way of the story. Skip them if you want.''

''Sweet Thursday'' came out in 1954, when I was just beginning to be published, and I've never forgotten that prologue.

Did I read the hooptedoodle chapters? Every word.

Writers on Writing

This article is part of a series in which writers explore literary themes. Previous contributions, including essays by John Updike, E. L. Doctorow, Ed McBain, Annie Proulx, Jamaica Kincaid, Saul Bellow and others, can be found with this article at The New York Times on the Web:

www.nytimes.com/arts

they are such a good 10 rules to good writing. i love how he constantly make exceptions for every rule.

I love Elmore Leonard! "perpetrating hooptedoodle" hahaaa