Review of William Zinsser's "On Writing Well"

Next to Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style on my bookcase is a volume not quite so slim, but no less valuable. It is William Zinsser’s On Writing Well. For those who make their living by writing or editing (or those interested in either), it is a must-buy.

Following a career as a journalist with the New York Herald Tribune and Life magazine, Zinsser lectured in writing at Yale University. His industry experience and time in the academy provide scores of relevant, entertaining anecdotes. The student whose sentences were like his room―full of clutter that he could not bring himself to throw out―comes to mind. Zinsser “went on throwing away his duplicated and unnecessary words,” and notes that after a term of such discarding, the student’s sentences were clean. He then wryly suggests that perhaps this student's room looked better too!

The book’s opening pages herald the tone of what follows: “two of the most important qualities this book will go in search of [are] humanity and warmth.“ It finds both―and more. Zinsser’s writing is personal, vigorous and full of humour.

In chapter 5 Zinsser argues that the author should write primarily for him/herself, suggesting that doing this will allow them to relax, and produce material that is natural and vital. Not that relaxing is easy―“telling a writer to relax is like telling a man to relax while being prodded for a possible hernia.” Pieces by E. B. White (on his fondness for hens) and Hunter S. Thompson (one of his typically crazy drug-seeking law-evading escapades) display the fruits of such apparent oblivion-to-the-reader.

But more than the work of others’, Zinsser’s own writing commends him as an author who is willing to bear his personality, which pulses through every page: from his bluntness, “Minutes are minutes, physicians are physicians, friends are friends. The rest is clutter”; to his broad-mindedness and breadth of knowledge―a chapter on criticism, in which he writes intelligently about classical music, television and film, is preceded by helpful chapters on travel, science and sports writing; to his droll sense of humour.

The humour begins on page one, as Zinsser recalls being on a panel addressing the topic ‘writing as vocation’. The description of his fellow panel-member―a full-time surgeon, part-time writer he calls Dr Brock―raised my eyebrows and the corners of my mouth. Asked whether it was important to re-write, Dr Brock replied, “absolutely not…let it all hang out,” and on what to do when the mood wasn’t right, “Go fishing. Take a walk.” Zinsser concludes with the suggestion that perhaps he should take up part-time surgery!

As for vigour, the book fulfils its own mandate of “an aliveness that keeps the reader reading from one paragraph to the next”. Zinsser’s sentences are muscular; or, to switch metaphors slightly, they have hands and feet. They nudge, beckon, prod, guide and tickle the reader from one idea to the next.

On Writing Well is also practical and realistic. Chapters on the importance of a good lead, how to create a snappy ending (rather than the ‘therefore-the-main-points-are’ gruel of the high school essay), the ABCs of conducting an interview, and the need for unity in person, mood and tone give sharp definition to some of the writer’s important tasks.

The advice to master the basics is also practical, and tellingly conveyed using the metaphor of carpentry: before a writer can “bevel the edges and add elegant finials” to their prose, they must build sturdy sentences with stable syntax and strong verbs.

And what could be more realistic (not to mention sobering) than the two heavily marked-up draft pages on pages ten and eleven, followed by the comment: “Although they look like a first draft, they have already been rewritten and retyped―like almost every other page―four or five times.”? Zinsser knows that strong, fresh prose is hard work.

As well as sound instruction, this is a book that brings great joy―ask my wife, she has had large slabs read to her over the past three months! Next to Strunk and White on your bookshelf, another gap is begging to be filled.