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

You labor and toil to write your memoir and place it in the hands of others. I know you do—because I’ve done it myself. Twice. I want to encourage you: If you persevere, in the end, you’ll find your effort worth it!

 

Remember significant motivations for telling your story: 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 (b) 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: In reading someone else’s writing, we spot all the gaps in communication, the ambiguities, the words and sentences that leave us 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.

Here’s what I’ve learned: The writer doesn’t always 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? 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? In the right order?
• 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

(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”)

Think clearly, write clearly.

  

Writer’s block? No problem. You can still work on your memoir.

 

Writer’s block: You know how to write. You want to write. But for some reason, you can’t write.

 

Take heart. Everyone gets stuck from time to time. Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Charlie Schultz, and Mark Twain struggled with writer’s block, too.

 

If “writer’s block” describes you today, don’t despair!

 

I have good news for you:

 

Writer’s block is temporary.

 

And here’s more good news: You can still make progress on your memoir.

 

This is your opportunity to spiff up your already-written segments, those chapters still in rough draft form, those beautiful stories that will someday—soon, we hope!—be compiled as your memoir.

 

By “spiff up” I mean to tinker, to rearrange, to polish—to revise.

 

“Revision is not punishment,” says veteran writer Donald M.Murray in The Craft of Revision.

 

“Writing evolves from a sequence of drafts,” Murray says. “Scientists . . . experiment . . . . Actors and musicians rehearse. Retailers test markets, politicians take polls, manufacturers try pilot runs. They all revise, and so do writers. Writing is rewriting.”

 

Professional writers know the benefits of revision.

 

So . . . Be like the pros: If you’re stuck with writer’s block, use this time to revise the chapters you’ve already written.

 

Revision, Murray says, is “re-seeing the entire piece of writing.” That’s so important.

 

This is your opportunity to re-see what you’ve written. Re-seeing will show you where, specifically, to revise.

 

Revision involves checking punctuation, grammar, spelling, diction (word choice), sentence length, rhythm, conciseness, organizing, and so on. I suggest you consider each separately as you evaluate your rough draft.  

 

If you’re stuck in writer’s block,

this is a perfect time to revise because

distance and time are a writer’s friends:

They do wonders for objectivity.

The fresher the story is in your memory,

the harder it is to catch things you need to change.

 

Today, let’s consider clarity.

 

“Clarity depends . . . on your ability to put information together so that readers know at every point where they are, where they’ve been, and where they seem to be going,” writes Peter P. Jacobi.

 

“When we read, our minds work in linear fashion. We cannot grasp jumps and jerks or even the sudden shifts of scene. . . .” Jacobi continues. “We [readers] have to be moved carefully, smoothly, through the [story].”

 

Donald Murray encourages a writer

to read a rough draft the first time

as the maker of that piece,

and then read it again as a stranger—

as someone reading the piece for the first time.

Good advice, Don!

 

So, put yourself in your readers’ shoes. Does your vignette or chapter make sense, or does it cause confusion?

 

Does your story have “jumps and jerks or . . . sudden shifts of scene”?

 

Look for gaps:

Did you leave out information

readers need to know?

If so, they’ll have trouble grasping

your story’s message.

 

Remember, it’s not in your story

until it’s in black and white on your page.

 

Strive for clarity.

 

Also remember: “Revision is not punishment.”

 

Enjoy making your revisions!

 

Taking a break can help you make progress on your memoir

Toni tells me she hasn’t worked on her memoir for a couple of years—but she wants to get back to writing it.

I haven’t worked on my second memoir since about Thanksgiving. Life got busy. We took a long trip. Had a lot to do for Christmas and related events. Entertained an out-of-town guest. New Year’s Eve. Those are my excuses.

But like Toni, I want to get back to work.

I suspect most of you can identify with us. How long has it been since you worked on your memoir?

It’s easy to get stuck in a non-writing rut.

Lots of writerly-type folks offer advice for getting out of that rut, especially this time of year, but here’s what works for me and I suggest you give it a try:

Instead of nagging at yourself, instead of attempting to talk yourself—or bribe yourself—into sitting down to write, simply get out your manuscript.

Is it a Word document? If so, sit down in front of your computer and open that document.

Is your manuscript hand-written and tucked into a folder in a filing cabinet drawer?

Wherever it is, get it out.

You might not realize it yet but taking a break from writing might be the best thing that could happen to your memoir.

Here’s what I mean: Whether you’ve written several vignettes, a few chapters, or an entire rough draft, set it aside. That’s right—leave it alone for a while. Do something else, because….

Well, here’s how Zadie Smith says it:

“…if money is not a desperate priority,

if you do not need to sell it at once

or be published that very second—

put it in a drawer.

For as long as you can manage.

A year or more is ideal—

but even three months will do.

Step away….

The secret to editing your work is simple:

you need to become its reader instead of its writer.”

Zadie Smith (emphasis mine)

That’s it! You need to look at your manuscript as if you were reading it for the first time.

Think about it:

You know what you are attempting to communicate

but if you’re too close to your story,

you don’t recognize the gaps

you’ve inadvertently left.

In your mind,

you know all the subtle things

and the back story

and where the story is going—

so, in your brain, all the info is there.

The problem is this:

too many of those details are still only in your mind

and not on the paper or computer screen

in black and white.

If you’re too close to your manuscript,

it’s easy to overlook holes and cracks—

those things that will trip up readers and interrupt your story.

If you are too close to your manuscript,

you can’t read it as if you’re reading it for the first time.

This means that if you’ve set aside your manuscript for a while, you now have an opportunity to take a fresh look and fix things that need fixing.

Here’s how you get started: Read it. Better yet, read it aloud.

Check for clarity—does it make sense?

Your goal is to eliminate confusion, to enhance your readers’ understanding.

Is your story clear and concise?

Have you used easy-to-understand words? Don’t make readers get out a dictionary—they won’t do it!

How can you simplify your words and sentences and paragraphs?

Do you need to rearrange the order of

• words in a sentence?
• sentences in a paragraph?
• paragraphs in a vignette?

What do you need to add or subtract to make your story understandable for your readers?

Make it easy for your readers to keep reading.

Working on clarity might not seem like writing your memoir, but you will have accomplished valuable, necessary work. You will have made significant progress.

More on clarity next Thursday but until then:

What you’re doing is not punishment!

It’s polishing something beautiful.