A Newspaper Editor Reflects on Writing
A time-tested treatise and an iconic literary figure can lead you in the “write” direction

As a newspaper and magazine editor, I get to work with freelance writers, including some just starting out. It’s a requirement in journalism these days with most newsroom staffs cut to bare bones.
When my media company asked me to be editor of our slick lifestyles magazine, they wanted me to use mostly freelancers.
That request didn’t spring from any desire on the publishers’ part to work with eager, young writers. The reason was the newsroom boss didn’t want his reporters spending their time writing stories that didn’t fill the main paper.
I understood the situation, and didn’t mind. I like working with talent — whether young or not so young. What follows is some simple writing direction (a term I like better than advice) I give to anyone who wants to write magazine articles or newspaper features.
By extension it applies to most nonfiction writing, such as blog posts, newsletters, reports, website copy, essays — anything where the goal is clarity. Ideally, this should include press releases (although in practice it rarely does, see below).
Nothing I’m going to say here is new or original. In fact, my first tip comes from a book whose genesis began more than 100 years ago.
I’m referring to Rule 17.
The Elements of Style
Many of you will get the reference. Rule 17 is in the book that Time recognized in 2011 as one of the 100 best and most influential books written in English since 1923. This little booklet (less than 100 pages) should be in everyone’s home library.
But don’t take my word for it (or Time’s). Here’s what Stephen King said in his book, On Writing:
“…most books about writing are filled with bullshit…. One notable exception to the bullshit rule is The Elements of Style, by William Strunk Jr. and E.B. White. There is little or no detectable bullshit in that book…. I’ll tell you right now that every aspiring writer should read The Elements of Style.”
My journalism teachers agreed with King. Most just referred to the book as “Strunk and White” for short.
The first version by Strunk came out in 1918. White expanded it and released a new edition in 1959, and it’s still in print (fourth edition).
Rule 17 is “Omit needless words.”
This is a simple rule that anyone who wishes to write with clarity should follow. You know who doesn’t follow this rule? PR flacks, corporate and marketing types and government bureaucrats. (I’m letting lawyers off the hook here. Legalese is its own dialect).
These are the people who write press releases and send them to media newsrooms.
The scourge of verbose press releases
In my experience education writers are among the most egregious violators of Rule 17. Here’s a random example from a media release that came to my inbox recently. The subject line was:
“New Organization Unveiled to Expand Disruptive Education Innovation”
A real attention grabber, isn’t it? Lest you think the body of the release cleared things up, here’s a couple more sentences:
“By formally establishing a new organization to support the work of all those we serve in new and innovative ways, we will dramatically expand opportunities for students … The organization will coalesce the educators, community leaders, innovators, and entrepreneurs who deliver the best and most innovative education across the country.”
It goes on like this for nine or 10 paragraphs.
Keep in mind, we in the newsroom have to translate this into basic English for our news products. We do this because buried under the buzzwords, jargon and hype is some genuine news (i.e. two educational groups joining forces to better teach students).
Whoever was responsible for this release, the phrase “write for the reader” never crossed their mind. Rather, it was written to sound important and please their committee of bosses so they’d sign off on it.
Corporate speak is the bane of good English.
Omit needless words. When I read a piece submitted by an inexperienced writer, nine times out of 10 my response to them is “Cut it by a third.” Tightening improves most stories.
I do the same with my own writing. I recently interviewed a comic book writer for the magazine. The guy was a great talker. My first draft was about 3,000 words. I went through it and cut it down to 2,000 words. Probably should have tightened it more, but I was on deadline.

What would Papa do?
What, besides Rule 17, does a new writer need to know?
I contend there’s still no better author to read and study than Ernest Hemingway. As you’ve probably guessed by now, I’m old school.
Yes, Hemingway had his demons. It’s fine if you think Papa Hemingway was a complete bastard, as long as you read A Farewell to Arms. Go ahead and be offended by his toxic masculinity, just make The Old Man and the Sea your bible for concise prose.
Hemingway began his writing career as a journalist. His first job was with a newspaper, the Kansas City Star. He applied the journalistic style he learned there to his later literary writing.
These techniques can be distilled to four simple guidelines:
1. Write short sentences.
2. Write short first paragraphs.
3. Use vigorous English.
4. Be positive, not negative.
That last rule isn’t referring to mental attitude. It refers to directness. Say what something is, rather than what it is not. I think the others are self-explanatory.
These guidelines will not be achieved in your first draft. They will be achieved through persistent rewriting.
When Hemingway finished The Old Man and the Sea, he wrote to his brother that he had edited and revised the story to the point that he didn’t think there was a single wasted word in the book.
He rewrote the opening of A Farewell to Arms at least 50 times. “You’ve got to work it over,” he told a young protege. “The first draft of anything is shit.”
Hemingway wrote a piece for Esquire that shares more of the advice he gave his protege. Although the tone of the article is curmudgeonly, it offers a glimpse into Hemingway’s mindset and includes a classic “show, don’t tell” writing exercise.
The question posed to him is “How can a writer train himself?” Since they are on Hemingway’s fishing boat, The Pelar, he answers with a hypothetical fishing story:
“Watch what happens today. If we get into a fish, see exactly what it is that everyone does. If you get a kick out of it while he is jumping, remember back until you see exactly what the action was that gave you that emotion. Whether it was the rising of the line from the water and the way it tightened like a fiddle string until drops started from it, or the way he smashed and threw water when he jumped.
“Remember what the noises were and what was said. Find what gave you the emotion, what the action was that gave you the excitement. Then write it down making it clear so the reader will see it too and have the same feeling you had. That’s a five finger exercise.”
Hemingway’s “five finger exercise” applies to both fiction and nonfiction. It can be practiced in any situation, whether you’re catching a marlin or having coffee at a cafe.
He goes on to apply this to people. Sometimes I get inquiries from prospective writers who want to write columns, but won’t do features because they’re not comfortable doing interviews.
Interacting with people is part of the journalism trade, and I’d go further and say the ability to relate to another person’s situation is an essential part of the writing life.
Again, Hemingway:
“When people talk, listen completely. Don’t be thinking what you’re going to say. Most people never listen. Nor do they observe. You should be able to go into a room and when you come out know everything that you saw there … If that room gave you any feeling you should know exactly what it was that gave you that feeling. Try that for practice.”
The call to practice is a good place to end this. Work hard, have fun — and watch out for those needless words.
When he’s not at his computer reading god-awful press releases and doing editing chores, Robert E. Saunders likes to read books and spend time outdoors. He reads Hemingway’s “Big Two-Hearted River” at least once a year.
If you liked this story, try “Slouching towards the Future,” an essay on a line by the poet Yeats famously used by Joan Didion.
