“Before you can write clearly, you have to be able to think clearly”

You’re slaving away to get your memoir in the hands of others. I know you are laboring, toiling, grinding away—because I’ve done it myself. Twice. It’s a lot of work but if you persevere, in the end, you’ll find your effort so worth it! 

One motivation for telling your story is this: You want to bless your readers in any number of ways—you want your story to inspire them in their lives:

• to never give up, never quit fighting, and always hope
• to make good choices and be trustworthy people of integrity
• to speak up when something’s not right
• to always love, always forgive, and always extend grace
• to grow in their faith
• to laugh and love—to love God and others

 The list goes on and on. 

But all that depends on whether they can understand—really understand—your message. That’s why lately we’ve been talking about clarity. We need to write clearly and concisely if we want readers to (a) read our memoirs and (2) understand them—to get all the richness and wisdom and blessing out of them. 

That means you and I need to find—have a good grip on—that clarity ourselves first. Sometimes that’s a problem. I’ve read thousands of passages written by others in rough draft form and it’s very revealing. And convicting. 

Because here’s the deal: It’s easy to read someone else’s writing and spot all the gaps in communication, the confusion, the words and sentences that leave me confused. 

When that happens, I stop and re-read sentences, paragraphs, and maybe even pages, trying to make sense of the writer’s message, trying to figure out what his point is. 

It often comes down to this: The writer doesn’t know what he’s trying to say. (And by the way, that makes it pretty much impossible for me to edit or critique the person’s writing.) 

Jesse Hines says it this way: “Before you can write clearly, you have to be able to think clearly. A big reason [writers fail to convey] their message is that they were not focused on a clear message. Good writing usually stems directly from clear thinking.” 

Ask yourself, then, “Am I thinking clearly?” 

Do you know the point of the paragraph you’re writing? (Click on What's the point?) What purpose does it serve? Where do you want it to take your readers—that is, does it take readers from one significant point to the next significant point? Does the passage hold relevance for the main point of the larger vignette or experience? 

If you’re confused, your readers will be confused, too. Outlining your paragraphs (and the ideas and points within each) should help you think more clearly, rearrange words and sentences, and delete others. 

Figuring out what you want to say is only the first step. Next, you need to write with clarity.

“Take great pains to be clear,” wrote C.S. Lewis. “Remember that though you [can] start by knowing what you mean, the reader doesn’t. . . . It is terribly easy just to forget that you have not told the reader something he wants to know—the whole picture is so clear in your own mind that you forget that it isn’t the same in his.” (C.S. Lewis, Writing Advice, “To a Schoolgirl in America”) 

So, there you have it for today: Think clearly, write clearly.

 

 

“If there is any possible way for readers to misread and misinterpret what you write, they will.”

 I still remember the first time I read the following: 

“I know that you believe you understand what you think I said, but I’m not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.” (Attributed to Robert McCloskey, State Department spokesman) 

That statement stunned me. It had never occurred to me that human beings could be on such different wavelengths despite making an effort to communicate. In fact, that statement shook me up. I began wondering how many times other people had misinterpreted my words, and how many times I had misunderstood others. 

Here’s something else that upsets me: I’ve heard that eighty percent of what we communicate is misunderstood. Eighty percent! The ripple effects could be staggering. 

And here’s this from Kendall Haven: 

“It has long been a principle of writing that, if there is any possible way for readers to misread and misinterpret what you write, they will.” (Kendall Haven, A Storied Career) 

I had no idea. How about you? 

And, perhaps even more important: What’s a writer to do? 

Well, I gave you a few tips last week. (Click on Will readers find your writing clear and concise?)

Here are a few more: 

Ask yourself if you’ve used technical or foreign terms your readers might not understand. 

Eliminate lingo—Christianese, for example—which can be distasteful for some readers because it’s an insider language; it can make others feel like unwelcome outsiders. 

For other readers, the meaning of the Chritianese jargon might not be clear, even if it’s clear to you and your circle of Christian friends. Avoid phrases like “I’ve been washed in the blood of the Lamb.” Instead, use everyday language to tell your story clearly and precisely. 

Here are more examples of Christianese to avoid: 

• living in darkness
• redeemed from a dark past
• decided to follow the Lord
• cast your burden
• bear fruit that lasts
• climb the mountain
• walk through the valleys
• ruled by the flesh
• washed by the blood of Jesus
• the enemy
• slave to sin
• washed as white as snow
• nothing but the blood of Jesus
• walk of faith
• taking your quiet time
• put a hedge of protection around [a person]

Set your story aside for a few days, then read it aloud, putting yourself in your readers’ shoes. Be alert to what might confuse or cloud. 

Then reword everything that could send an ambiguous or confusing message. Make it easy for your readers to understand. 

Kendall Haven also said this: “The purpose of . . . editing is to make the writing so precise that it cannot be misread or misinterpreted.” (Kendall Haven, A Storied Career) 

And please be convinced of this: Rewording and rewriting and editing are not punishment. Embrace the art and craft of it! (Click on Tell yourself rewriting is not punishment.)

Most of all, have fun!

 

 

 

 

Will readers find your writing clear and concise?

One of your most important goals is communicating effectively with your readers. 

Years ago, when I studied journalism, instructors taught us to aim our writing at eighth-graders—that is, to write in a way eighth-grade students could easily understand.

Recently I saw the same advice so it must still be the best practice. 

What’s true for journalists is true for memoirists: Aim at an eighth-grade audience. 

Ken Follett, Welsh author, says his goal is to make his prose “utterly easy to understand.” He calls it “transparent prose.” 

“I’ve failed dreadfully,” Follet says, “if you have to read a sentence twice to figure out what I meant.” 

You know what Follett means. You have had the unpleasant experience of reading a sentence or a paragraph two or three times before you could figure out the writer’s message. Don’t be that kind of writer! 

Write clearly. Concisely. Transparently. Simply. 

Shane Snow says it this way: “We shouldn’t discount simple writing, but instead embrace it. . . . 

“We should aim to reduce complexity in our writing as much as possible. 

“We won’t lose credibility in doing so,” Shane says. “Our readers will comprehend and retain our ideas more reliably. And we’ll have a higher likelihood of reaching more people.” 

Look over your manuscript. Read it aloud, listening for words or sentences or paragraphs that could confuse readers. 

Rewrite them, reducing complexity and confusion. Make your writing easy to understand. Write transparently. Your readers will thank you. 

Come back next week. We’ll look at additional ways to write your memoir with clarity.

Do you hear that? Will your readers hear that?

Some sounds have died out. Have you ever thought of that?

In your memory, some sounds live on—they are a perfectly normal part of your everyday life—yet they could be sounds your kids or grandkids have never heard.

I thought of that recently when I saw a post on Facebook, and that reminded me of something I found a few years ago: 11 Things That Your Kids Have Probably Never Heard.

Sounds like:

• a rotary dial phone
• a manual typewriter
• a cash register
• and that bell that used to ring when we pulled into a gas station

If those memories make you smile, you’ll enjoy Kara Kovalchik’s 11 Things That Your Kids Have Probably Never Heard.

Enjoy that list, but add to it. Make a list of your own unique sounds and include them in your memoir.

Think about the sound of milking a cow—the sound of warm milk squirting into a metal bucket. I suspect most of your readers have no idea what that sounds like.

People acquainted with only gas or electric “fireplaces” might not know about crackling and hissing sounds that real logs make in real fireplaces.

Those who grew up pre-photocopy machines will remember the sound a mimeograph machine makes.

Did you grow up listening to air-raid sirens? I did.

In my recently published memoir, Please, God, Don’t Make Me Go: A Foot-Dragger’s Memoir, I included sounds of howler monkeys, Honda 90 motorbikes, bulls chomping on hibiscus plants outside my kitchen window, and mosquitoes buzzing my ears at night.

In my other memoir, Grandma’s Letters from Africa, I recall awakening to the Muslims’ pre-dawn call to prayer from a nearby mosque. I remember the rustle of sun-baked grasses and of lying “in your cot at night, listening to the night sounds—the hollow, terrifying roar of the lion, the bark of the zebra, the ghostly laugh of the hyena, and the pad, pad of invisible feet.” (Camera Trails in Africa, Martin Johnson, 1924)

Frederick Buechner writes of sounds from college days: “I hear the clatter of feet on stone steps and wooden steps, the rifle-shot slap of books dropped to the writing arms of seats in lecture halls. . . and [in the dorm] the playing of everybody’s phonograph at once—‘Honeysuckle Rose,’ ‘People Will Say We’re In Love,’ ‘As Time Goes By.’” (The Sacred Journey)

For your readers’ sake, for your memoir’s sake, do the necessary work to make sounds come to life.

Need help remembering? Close your eyes and go back to that time you want to recapture. Or look through old photos, or read books written in that era. Ask friends and relatives to help you remember.

Also, click on Amber Lea Starfire’s blog post. Even though she’s addressing journal-writers, her advice works for memoirists, too. She’ll help you pin down sounds from your past.

Most of all, have fun writing.