On Rewriting “Writing”

“If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it.”
―Elmore Leonard

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I chose the quote above because it matches my experience editing people’s work.

I work as a writing coach, especially to help people apply for schools or jobs. The main problem I run into is self-conscious “writing,” which feels like people putting on a stiff tuxedo that restricts their range of motion. People experience so much pressure to say it “right” (which, unfortunately, always comes out sounding like an undergrad essay with a minimum word count) that they can’t say, or even hear, what they really mean.

For me, “writing” (with quotes) is when people feel so much pressure to get it right that they can’t say—or even hear—what they really mean.

The best way I’ve found around this problem is to ask people, verbally, simple questions over and over again: “What makes you a good fit for this job?” or “Why, really, do you want to go to law school?” I don’t stop until they begin to answer from a different place: not from “this is what I think the essay should say” but rather from their real, personal truth, without thinking about how it’ll be used later on.

At that point, I transcribe what they say, either taking typed notes or using a voice recorder and Otter.ai for transcription. What comes out is raw and actually true, and it can surprise you, which people’s self-conscious essay writing cannot. From there, I edit to a finished product.

As an example, here is part of the same cover letter, first as it was originally “written” and then as it was transcribed:

To me, both passages are okay (it’s a cover letter, not an art piece), but only the bottom one has emotional impact. This is because it is specific, strange—unique to the person speaking. “Where the chairs are stacked,” “I do not put myself above work,” and “I do not go home until my employees do” are all unique, specific thoughts that clearly belong to an individual person’s mind; they reveal how that person’s mind works, who that person is. “I enjoy problem solving, thought partnership,” and so on could be anybody.

Emotional impact comes when writing is specific, strange: unique to the person speaking.

I want to emphasize that to bring another person’s writing out with this method, you have to care. You’re not stripping their layers of pretense, or anything like that. You’re inviting their truth out into the open, with no need to wear masks or tuxedos or to sound like the kind of person who deserves this job, should be writing this essay, and so on. If you care about people and if you have confidence in them, you can help them settle into who they are, and then listen to that, and the high quality of what comes out will surprise you.

Based on the success I’ve had helping others, I’m also working with writing straight from my own mind without polishing it into “writing,” which is why (to me) parts of this essay feels like they were written by a caveman. Maybe I’m going too far, but right now I like rough writing with nothing wasted, and that immediately says what it means. Polishing from there would probably be best, though.

Elmore Leonard’s 10 Rules of Writing

Read them here.

These well-known writing rules have stuck with me more than most other writing advice I’ve read—to the point that, like the advice to stop at red lights, I didn’t realize where I first heard them. Then I stumbled back on these rules today and realized, “Oh, that’s where it’s from.”

Some of them are perhaps too strongly worded, like Never use a verb other than “said” to carry dialogue. I’d agree, except for the “Never,” but I think it’s very good advice to follow overall.

Other rules have an almost Zen elegance, specifically Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip. That’s almost life advice for a writer: something to contemplate over and over again. You’ll probably get something new each time.