6. What Language Tricks Should You Use?

Let's return for a moment to our comparison between building a house and writing a composition. The way the foundation, walls, partitions, and roof are put up determines the soundness and durability of a house. However, a solid framework will not in itself attract most buyers. Their inter­est is aroused mainly by the finishing materials that have been used—the stone, brick, or shingles of the exterior; the paint, paper, or wood paneling of the interior; the style and texture of the appliances.

Similarly, you achieve structural soundness in your compo­sition by choosing an appropriate subject, adopting a valid approach, dividing your material properly into paragraphs, and adequately developing each one. But to make sure that what you have written will attract the interest and atten­tion of the reader, you, too, must supply certain finishing touches. You must learn to use language tricks that can add to your writing the color, style, and appeal you want it to have; can make the difference between ordinary and superior work; can, as you learned in our analysis of student composi­tions in Chapter 2, help you put in what so many writers leave out. The five suggestions that follow have been called tricks because they work like magic to lift your composition out of the dull and the routine.

I. MAKE YOUR PARAGRAPHS AND SENTENCES

 READ SMOOTHLY!

A good piece of writing moves along like a well-oiled machine. There are no sudden stops and starts, no sputtering, no unevenness. Each paragraph flows from the one preceding it and into the one following it. Within each paragraph, the sentences repeat the same pattern, following one another easily, in a clearly connected way, toward the central idea. The professionals call this kind of smoothness continuity. Achieving it is not very difficult at all. It is done with words or phrases strategically placed to form the links in the chain of thoughts and ideas.

A. Continuity Between Paragraphs

Observe the words in boldface type in the following ex­cerpt. They illustrate how the writer established continuity right at the start of his composition. The last sentence of the beginning paragraph is picked up and carried forward by the first sentence of the middle paragraph:

The sky above the quaint little Swiss winter resort was covered with heavy, sad-looking clouds. The air was crisp and cold, and, although conditions were perfect, few skies were out on the snow-covered hills. But my father had decided that this should be the day when he would go skiing with his ten year old son.

We didn't have to wait long in front of the sun­tanned wooden hut which housed the ski lift's bottom station.

Do you see how the beginning paragraph ends with a sen­tence that clearly tells the reader what direction the compo­sition will take? And do you see how the first sentence of the next paragraph picks up the idea and carries it forward by using "We" and "ski lift" to tie in with previously mentioned "father," "skiing," and "son"?

Variations of the same technique are used to develop con­tinuity among the middle paragraphs. A word, phrase, or sometimes a whole sentence in one paragraph directs the mind of the reader to go back very briefly to what was said and then forward to what is about to be said. That is really all there is to the trick of getting paragraphs to follow one another smoothly. It is what a good teacher does in class-quickly reviews the previous day's lesson before proceeding with the new one. Now study the way the writer maintained continuity throughout the rest of his composition:

We didn't have to wait long in front of the sun-tanned wooden hut which housed the ski Hit's bottom station. Presently, we were standing side by side on the track, waiting for the hook, shaped like a reversed clothes hanger, to be put under our seats by an attendant. We slid a few yards and—whoop, there went the hook snap­ping in the air. This meant we had to start over again. Once more we stood next to each other, waiting. The awkward maneuver worked even worse the second, time and we stumbled to the ground. Again we tried—and went sprawling. Finally we decided to travel separately.

Alone, it went beautifully, and, with no effort at all, I was carried up the steep, long mountain. The white-capped fir trees looked down on me with a friendly smile, as if to say, "So you finally made it!" I glanced behind me to see whether my father was following me, but there was no sign of him. "Well," I thought, "I'll meet him at the top."

Five minutes, ten minutes later—no father was being pulled up the last steep stretch of the track. Appar­ently, he couldn't even ride the ski lift alone. After at least another twenty people had made it to the top, I de­cided not to wait any longer and descend by myself. But which way? It was the first time I was on this mountain and the way down was not marked. The only solution I could think of was to take the same route I had used to go up.

There was no trail along the track of the ski lift and the snow was soft, deep, and dangerous. The slope was getting so steep that I had to take off my skis and try to stagger downhill. With every aching step, I sank to my knees. As if my misery wasn't complete, it began to snow with thick, clinging flakes. Soon my legs were numb and I could barely move. I must have tortured myself for half an hour when I heard a yell. It was one of the attendants from the bottom station. He guided me out of the drifts and, after a short rest, took me down the wide, easy trail back to the hut.

Once I was deposited before a roaring fire, my

boots were on in no time and I began to thaw out with a cup of hot tea. My father, rather guiltily, put a heavy hand on my shoulder and said, "Next time, son, you won't have to fight both me and the slope."

That's how it's done. You repeat an important word used in the previous paragraph, or you refer to the main idea just developed, or you simply use an expression that bridges the gap between paragraphs (called transitional words, like on the other hand, in the first place, however, etc.), and you es­tablish the continuity that makes your composition read smoothly. Here are a few more examples, with the key ex­pressions in boldface type.

Example 1

Mountains disappear and in their stead great cities ex­tend their towers of steel and concrete heavenward. White, fleeting man-made birds streak through the clear azure. Spans or metal and wire appear over great chasms and wide rivers. Through the hand of man the paths of great bodies of water are diverted and arid deserts are turned into fruitful, cool, green plains. With each pass­ing breath, man walks further onward and upward, leav­ing the shadows of his ignorance and stupidity behind him. Only glory is felt; the entire world seems to hum with existence and achievement.

The humming, however, is not unbroken. Oc­casionally the pitch of advancement that seems to exist so inherently in the human race is broken. Pain is where only love should be; hunger exists when plenty might abound; the light of the gleaming white sphere, high in the sky, dims and flickers. War breaks out; hatred runs amok. There is faltering; there is regression.

But then, as quickly as it began, it is over. The light resumes its intensity, with perhaps a bit more brightness . . .

Example 2

I heard the girl moaning in pain. And yet I could do nothing for her. I felt my own fear and agony. We were all in this together. We had known what we were doing.

It seemed ages since I'd left the ones I loved, and I was cold and hungry. Many of us were groaning aloud and pleading for mercy. But there was no mercy. Soon it would be my turn to be taken. I hoped I could control myself until then, contain my fear, go with pride and dignity, walk through under my own power. It would be as if a door were flung open to me and I would be whisked away to ...

I had been suffering so long. My arms and legs were numb with cold and pain. But, they whispered, it would soon be over. How Iwaited for that one blessed moment when it would be over. But, perhaps, I shouldn't have said that. How could I know what was to be? The world beyond those doors might be more horrible than this one I was leaving.

But, whatever it was, I thought, let it be quick. Anything but this, this torment, this waiting.

At last. They're coming for me. The end is within sight. It's my turn. Oh glorious moment. Now if this kid would get his elbow out of my ribs, I might be able to get on the bus in one piece.

Example 3

(From the delightful Please Don't Eat the Daisies by Jean Kerr*)

The Everest of my ambition is to teach my children the simple precepts of existence—"Keep your fingers out of the plate," Don't wear your underwear to bed," "Keep out of federal institutions"—and somehow arrive at middle age with my larynx intact. But no matter how I struggle to keep my voice out of that piercing upper register which, I am told, only dogs can near, my boys can always discover a chink in my armor of control.

For instance in the morning, when I spring down the stairs jaunty in my husband's old dressing gown, I brace myself against the dazzling sight of all those eager, ill-scrubbed faces. I tell myself that it is quite natural forchildren to be cheerful at 7 a.m. í resolve that í am go­ing to remain calm. Calm, do you hear? Calm. Disci­pline can come later when we are all up to it.

*From Please Don't Eat the Daisies, by Jean Kerr, copyright, ©, by Jean Kerr; reprinted by permission of Doubleday & Company, Inc.; published in Great Britain by William Heinemann, Ltd.

So I find three lost shoes, put a new cover on Colin's speller, comb the house for 32 cents' milk money, and untie Gilbert, who has been strapped to a chair with a cowboy belt while I was looking tor the money. All this time I am exuding such syrupy good humor that the chil­dren are awed. I hear myself saying coolly: "just be­cause he ate your crayons is no reason to hit him on the head."

When they are finally seated at breakfast, I watch the twins spell out their names in butter on the plastic place mats but I refuse to get riled. When they all decide to make sandwiches of boiled egg and cereal, I remind myself that after all, they're just Little Boys. Then I notice Christopher stirring his orange juice with an old pocket comb. At this point everything snaps and my wild, sweet soprano can be heard for miles.

B. Continuity Within Paragraphs

Since the related sentences of a paragraph should point toward the topic sentence, you can readily understand how good continuity can contribute greatly toward the smooth development of the main idea. Here, too, a word or phrase that echoes the previous thought or makes some reference to it does the trick for sentences. Once again, observe how, in the following excerpts, the words in boldface type provide the links in the chain:

Example 1

Five spindle-legged chairs perched upon the dirty floor in a circle like storks about to fly off. Within the circle of chairs stood a square table, high and mighty, determined to keep the floor down. Set upon the tablewas a dilapidated felt covering with charred holes at the corners and a bald spot in the center. A heap of soggy lima beans lay on the bald spotand sweated the moisture of the air. The nooks, crannies, and corners of the room were stock still, staring longingly at the walls. The paint and plaster from the cracked wallsrained down like leaves in autumn. A baby in an adjoining roomscreamed spasmodically, sending a shiver into the par­ticles that floated through the heavy air.

Did you notice how skilfully the writer directed your at­tention toward the center of the room, the furniture therein, then the adjoining walls and ceiling, and finally a room next door—all the while maintaining a strong sense of unity be­cause of the excellent continuity? Of course, you won't al­ways want to repeat a word from a previous sentence to make the connections, but, as was said, it can be done in other ways, too. The next two examples will show you the great variety of ways that are available for developing continuity between sentences in a paragraph.

Example 2

The dance was all too quickly over. Settling a silk scarf over her hair, Terry shivered, not in reaction to the crisp autumn air, but in delicious anticipation that the best of the evening was yet to come. After a brief dis­cussion among the small group of Les' friends, the unanimous decision seemed to be for eating at a res­taurant described as "that little place with the green lights on Route 9 that has such great fried chicken." The thought of a drive in the country and dinner at a cozy, intimate restaurant with Les sent Terry's heart soaring.

Example 3

Then there is teaching. This is the profession my

family and friends believe I will one day enter. Perhaps I will, for in the twelve years I have attended school I have often thought of how interesting it would be to teach history. Besides,people tell me it is pleasant work and well suited to a young girl. This, I have no doubt, is true, and I am genuinely attracted to the field. But there is a big but that lies in the way.

II. AVOID POINTLESS REPETITION!

Sometimes writers and speakers deliberately repeat words to create a special dramatic effect or to reach a climax. You are probably familiar with the technique so dear to the hearts of politicians who thunder:

"I say that these conditions are intolerable. I say that the time has come to change them. And I say the time is now!"

Or you have read material in which the writer used repetition to promote humorous effects, as did the student in the following:

As the door opens, you are greeted by a girl who isn't pretty, isn't ugly . . . just pretty ugly. Immediately, she takes you into the living room to meet her father who is polishing his double-barreled shotgun. You soon learn that he makes his living polishing double-barreled shot­guns—and shooting them!

However, unless you are pointing toward a special effect, try to avoid repetition. Nothing can kill interest more quickly than the monotonous appearance of the same word in every other sentence. There is no excuse for it because our lan­guage is rich with synonyms, and thinking of an alternate expression takes but a few extra seconds. A fairly safe rule is this: If at all possible, do not use a key word more than twice in the same paragraph. Here is a typical example of deadening repetition:

People who oppose world government say that there is no proof that such an idea would work. The supporters of world government contend that this may be true, but wasn't the United States formed from thirteen individual sovereign colonies? The thirteen sovereign colonies who found it was becoming increasingly difficult to survive with different types of legal tender, different laws, and different trade regulations delegated a portion of their own sovereign powers to an outside government to con­trol all of the colonies equally. This may not be proof that a world government may work, but it gives an ex­ample of a similar type of problem which was solved in a similar manner and has worked for nearly two hundred years.

Now notice what happens to the paragraph when the two simple cures are supplied:

Eliminate when you can!

Substitute when you cant!

People who oppose world government say that there is no proof that such an idea would work. The supporters contend that this may be true, but wasn't the United States formed from thirteen sovereign states? These independent colonies, who found it was becoming dif­ficult to survive with different types of legal tender, Jaws, and trade regulations, delegated a portion of their powers to an outside body which could exercise equal control over all. This may not prove that such a plan would work internationally, but it gives an example of a similar problem and solution which has worked fox nearly two hundred years.

Note how the repetitions were eliminated:

Sentence 2: "of world government"—eliminated

"individual"—eliminated

  "states" substituted for "colonies"

Sentence 3: "independent" substituted for "thirteen

sovereign"

"different" eliminated twice "sovereign, government, colonies"—
eliminated

Sentence 4: "internationally" substituted for

"world government" `

"type of" and "similar"—eliminated

Besides the actual word eliminations or substitutions, it was necessary to change a construction here and there, but the improvement in readability of the paragraph is, I am sure you agree, well worth the effort involved.

An even more serious type of pointless repetition involves the contents of a paragraph more than it does the individual words. The writer, instead of developing his material through detail and example, keeps saying the same thing over and over again. Although he writes a lot of sentences, he makes no progress beyond his opening remarks, as you can see in the following:

If I were to be asked, I would say that a true friend is a kind of person who can tell you what he thinks straight to your face and really mean it. A true friendship calls for honesty. Being honest in your judgment creates true friendship and influences people, in other words, say what you mean and mean what you say. Don't say a thing to your friends which you think would please them and yet don't mean it. In other words, give him the praise he deserves and tell him his mistakes which need correcting. Thus, by telling him exactly what you think and meaning it, you help him to improve himself.

Elimination or substitution would not help much here be­cause practically nothing but the topic sentence could be re­tained. The paragraph needs major surgery and a complete rewrite job, with emphasis upon specific illustration to de­velop the main idea. Watch out for similar empty repetition in your own compositions. It happens all too often.

III. MIX UP YOUR SENTENCES!

Before the 1900's, most essay writers favored long, com­plicated sentences, densely punctuated. This type of struc­ture often made it difficult to follow the main ideas and con­tributed very greatly to the dryness that is associated with some classics. As you can see by the two illustrations that follow, very little change in style occurred for hundreds of years:

They do best, who, it they cannot but admit love, yet make it keep quarter; and sever it wholly from their serious affairs and actions of life: for if it check once with business, it troubleth men's fortunes, and maketh men that they can no ways be true to their own ends.

—52 words—"Of Love" by Francis Bacon (1561-1626)

Say what you have to say, what you have a will to say, in the simplest, the most direct and exact manner pos­sible, with no surplusage:—there, is the justification of the sentence so fortunately born 'entire, smooth and round,' that it needs no punctuation, and also (that is the point!) of the most elaborate period, if it be right in its elaboration.

-63 words-'Style* by Walter Pater (1839-1894) (Note that Pater didn't follow his own advice!)

The turn of the century brought ever-increasing emphasis upon brevity and clarity as the keynotes of a good writing style. Most modern authors prefer simpler, shorter sentences, averaging under twenty words. They get their effects not by heavy phrases and massive punctuation but by mixing up the form and pattern of their sentences, knowing that any design, if repeated often enough, contributes to dullness.

As a student, you have long since learned the standard sentence types in our language—the simple, complex, com­pound; the declarative, imperative, interrogative. The names, however, have probably been meaningless to you because you haven't realized the important point about these types. It isn't that they exist; it is that to become a superior writer you must consciously try to use them so that your paragraphs will have variety in sentence structure as well as in words and ideas. You must make yourself aware of the fact that you cannot start and finish every sentence the same way without creating monotony. You must learn to break up the pattern of an unending series of declarative statements featuring the most common English sentence order—subject, verb, modifiers. Such sameness takes the spark and life out of a compo­sition almost as surely as repetition does.

Any sentence can be rephrased or redesigned so that its basic thought is retained but its form is changed. It is your job as a writer to keep track of your sentence structure and put in variations as you go along. Note how many different ways the writer could have arranged the following sentence, taken at random from a student composition:

Original Sentence

The melancholy strains of the last dance number floated about her ears, like a soft spring breeze caressing her thoughts.

(This is certainly a perfectly good sentence, with balance and color. But if it were the fifth in a series of similarly con­structed sentences, it would lose some of its effect because of the monotony of the design of subject, verb, modifiers.)

Variations Possible

(Inverted)

Like a soft spring breeze caressing her thoughts were the melancholy strains of the last dance number floating about her ears.

(Exclamatory)

The melancholy strains of the last dance number floated about her ears. How tike a soft spring breeze caressing her thoughts!

(Interrogative)

The melancholy strains floated about her ears. Was it the last dance number? Or was it really a soft spring breeze caressing her thoughts?

(Dialogue)

"It's like a soft spring breeze caressing my thoughts" mused Linda, as the musical strains of the last dance number Boated about her ears.

 (Short, crisp)

Now came the last dance number. The melancholy strains floated about her ears. It was like a soft spring breeze. It caressed her thoughts.

There are other variations possible, and you are limited only by what your mind and imagination can invent. But do you see how it is done? Sometimes you take part of the sec­ond half of a sentence and put it up front; or you change an ordinary statement into a question or an exclamation; or you make several short sentences out of a long one; or you combine some short ones into a long one. You must be like the star baseball pitcher who keeps the batter off balance by "mixing up his stuff." You don't want to fool your reader, of course, but by mixing up your sentence structure you will certainly have a better chance to keep him interested.

Notice how much sentence variety contributes to the mood and humor of this excerpt, a continuation of the paragraph from "Blind Date," quoted a few pages back:

After answering some pointed questions about your family, your prospects, your intentions, you escape horn her apartment and, in order to save your hard earned money, you suggest a nice stroll through the park. She appears to be the long-haired intellectual type, so you use your best lines on her:

"I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree."

Looking up at you rapturously through her shabby eye­brows, she murmurs,

"Uh, huh."

The hours crawl by like hours. Four steak sandwiches, 22 ice cream sodas (double scoopers), and 2 large pizzas later, she suggests a late movie. She obviously thinks that she's worth more than the eleven dollars you have al­ready spent on her. You kill that ideal

"No," you say. "I'm going hunting tomorrow."

How can you tell her that it will he for the friend who fixed you up with this date?

Here's an example of how effective sentence variety can be added to a paragraph simply by a few changes in form:

Original Paragraph

One day every six months, my friends and I have a baking day. We gather in one house and really go to town. We always have the whole house to ourselves. We take down the cook book and select what we wish to make. We spend a lot of time doing this. We can't seem to agree on what to bake. We have to hold an elimination contest to see whose suggestion will be the winner.

Altered Version

One day every six months, my friends and I have a baking day. After gathering in one house, which we al­ways have to ourselves, we really go to town. The cook book is taken down and the selection of what we wish to make begins. What a lot of time it takes to do this! You want to know why? No two of us can agree on what to bake. Eventually, to see whose suggestion will be the winner, we have to hold an elimination contest.

IV. GET RID OF LANGUAGE WASTE!

Most editors, when asked for advice on how to put life into a style, will say briefly and pointedly: "Cut! Cut! Cut!" This advice is based upon sound reasoning. Long-winded sentences, in speech or in writing, slow up the movement of ideas and rapidly bore the reader.

You must learn to use the editor's blue pencil, too. Go over your sentences and cut out what is unnecessary. Make them get to the point. Make every word in a sentence do a job. Get rid of those that just lie around doing nothing. Don't be like the insufferable sleep-talker who never says in ten words what he can say in a hundred.

Take that sentence by Walter Pater. Not only is it com­plicated, but it is much too wordy. Had he followed his own advice, he might have phrased it thus:

Say what you have to say simply, directly, and exactly.

Let's study a few more examples. Some use too many words; others are too pompous:

Uncut: There were some of the boys who were saying that they wanted to leave just about after the sun rose.

Cut: Some boys wanted to leave at dawn.

Uncut: In view of the fact that the game of baseball is considered by everybody to be our national pas­time, many millions of people come to view this sporting event during every one of the seasons it is played.

Cut: Because baseball is our national pastime, mil­lions of people watch it played every season.

Uncut: Judging by the frequent outbursts of laughter that emanated from the audience, it appeared to regard Mr. Crowley as a very funny comedian and offered him a salvo of applause with a great show of vigor.

Cut: Judging by the laughter of the audience, it con­sidered Mr. Crowley a very funny comedian and applauded him vigorously.

Uncut: (Similar to some of the wartime signs posted in the middle '40's)

Illumination of these premises is required to be extinguished prior to the departure therefrom of the occupants thereof.

Cut: Put out the lights before you leave.

Uncut: In my opinion I believe I can safely say that I certainly do like to experiment with new recipes very much.

Cut: I certainly like to experiment with new recipes.

Observe what happens to the first three paragraphs of the following student composition when the blue pencil is ap­plied liberally:

Original Version

There are a great deal of ways to have effective money raising projects. It would take me at least one hour to explain them all. Since I have only fifty-five minutes left, I shall elaborate upon only one.

The first question that may pop into someone's mind is: "Why do we need effective money raising projects?" That question is answered in just a few short sentences. We need effective money raising projects to raise money. We need the money to buy things. For example, we may have to buy a new college wardrobe, a summer outfit, gifts for Father's Day, and that darling bathing suit in Lacey's window.

Both of us know that the only way you can get a new wardrobe is by not having any other clothes. The follow­ing project has proven very effective. The first thing you must do is rip or burn all of your clothes. (If this isn't successful, the rest of the plan is worthless.) Second you must make sure that your father has eaten a good meal. Then you must make the innocent statement: "Dad, I have nothing to wear." When your father wants to prove how hysterically funny this is and proceeds to go to your closet, he will find out that you weren't fooling when you said what you said in the first place.

Cut Version

Many effective money raising projects exist. Since time is short, I shall elaborate upon only one.

Why do we need these projects? We have to buy things! It may be a college wardrobe, summer outfit, gifts for Father's Day, or that darling bathing suit in Lacey's window.

We know that you get a new wardrobe only when you don't have other clothes. The following project has proven very effective. First, rip or burn all your clothes. (If this isn't successful,, the plan is worthless.) Second, make sure your father has eaten a good meal. Then say, "Dad, I have nothing to wear." When he wants to prove how hysterically funny this is and goes to your closet, he discovers that you weren't fooling.

Remember, now; don't let your paragraphs get over­weight. Keep the sentences trim and attractive. Get rid of high-calorie bombast and excess words.

V. CHOOSE YOUR WORDS WITH CARE!

London, December 9, 1749 Dear Boy,

It is now above forty years since I have never spoken nor written one single word, without giving myself at least one moment's time to consider, whether it was a good one or a bad one, and whether I could not find out

a better in its place     I will freely and truly own to you, without either vanity or false modesty, that whatever reputation I have acquired as a speaker, is more owing to my constant attention to my diction, than to my matter, which was necessarily just the same as other people's. When you come into Parliament, your reputation as a speaker will depend much more upon your words, and your periods, than upon the subject. The same matter occurs equally to everybody of common sense, upon the same question; the dressing it well, is what excites the at­tention and admiration of the audience.

This is what Lord Chesterfield said in a letter to his son over two hundred years ago. And yet his advice is as useful and fresh as if it had been given yesterday to a high school English class. What wisdom there for the developing young writer!

It's not so much what you say that counts, but how you say it. On any given topic, most students with intelligence and imagination will come up with similar ideas. The differences in quality of the compositions will be found in the language they use—and language means words. That's why it should make a difference to you whether a particular word you have chosen is "a good one or a bad one." And that's why you must constantly strive to "find out a better in its place." Be­fore discussing the kinds of words you should try to use, let's take a brief look at some you should avoid.

Don’t use stale language. Most of us are lazy by nature. It is easier to copy and imitate rather than tax our own brains in an effort to be original. Thus when someone creates an unusually effective expression, we very often appropriate it for our own purposes and then use it to death. For in­stance:

eats like a horse            talks a blue streak
face like an angel          flat as a pancake
cooking with gas           dead as a doornail
you can say that again   crazy as a loon
slick as a chick right down the line
Now, you're talking      as big as all outdoors
the $64 question           hard as nails
lay it on the line as large as life
pretty as a picture         red as a beet

Whoever said these first had reason to be proud because at one time these expressions were sparkling and witty. How­ever, because of constant repetition, they have become flat and meaningless, like hundreds of other overworked phrases. They are the mark of the unimaginative and lazy speakers and writers who cannot or will not think for themselves. If you want your sentences to sound as if you had written them, follow this general rule: What has been used before by many isn't worth being used by you.

Don't try to show off. Suppose you have done a lot of read­ing and have acquired quite a vocabulary. That's very good; it's one of the basic objectives of a good reading program. But words should not be used to impress; they must fit and be the right ones for the thought you are trying to express. There will be occasions when an unusual word will be the only one that helps you say what you have in mind; that's when you use it. However, when something can be said beautifully and simply, don't destroy it by doing what the writer of the following passage did:

There is a fortifying essence that floats around a clear brook during the earliest morning hours that cannot he found inside any man-made structure. There is a majesty around a towering monolyte that no palace, however ostentatious, can afford. The spirit of the outdoors exerts a permeating influence on a` person whenever it invades one's soul.

How artificial has become the cool breeze near a quiet stream at daybreak! Never come to your reader in a cap and gown when he expects to find you wearing slacks and a tweed jacket. Oddly enough; the same writer shows that he is capable of using "big" words appropriately in the same pa­per. You won't find his language objectionable now because the words are creating the pictures he wants you to see:

This spirit changes the shapes of clouds from reckless horsemen to gigantic ships, from seductive maidens to grinning gargoyles, from sinuous sylphs sailing celestial seas to grotesque creatures from outer space. It streaks dazzling ornaments on the blue skies, paints green undu­lating prairies on the desert sands, transmutes emerald leaves into golden and scarlet draperies to embellish au­tumn days, and covers the naked earth with a blanket of immaculate white during the long, frozen winters.

There's your main point. Any word is good so long as it projects the image or sentiment on the right level. What Francis Bacon said about studies can also be said about words: ". . . to use them too much for ornamentation is affectation."

Don't overdescribe. In an effort to present a striking pic­ture, some students become so obsessed with the search for descriptive words that they seem to strain for the effect after a while. Note how the sentence in boldface type below over­does it and spoils what is otherwise an outstanding bit of colorful writing:

The weather! Today is a gray blanket, dull, depressing, pushed close to a body too drained to resist. Even the birds fussing in the trees are fluttering about to be sure the hot coverlet does not slip. Not a gasp of air can be had. Sticky eyelids press on heavy eyeballs to force from sluggish memory the coolness of an evening sky. Say the cool words—mint, water, swimming, shal­low—before the heat can change them into tepid, pant­ing syllables. Is all memory burned? Has the gray blan­ket suffocated all lively thought and pleasant fancy? Are all blankets gray?

Create images by all means, but you need not be micro­scopic about them. It is understandable why some critics have said that all adjectives should be abolished.

All right, then, what are the good words, the right words, the words that fit? There is no set formula that will cover all writing situations. But there are some general guides that you should find useful.

Use words that are alive. Living things have definite shapes, sizes, names; they feel, taste, smell, move about; they cry, laugh, snarl, jump for joy. Your words should give life to your sentences by helping the reader see precisely what you see, feel what you feel. They should not be vague and indistinct. "Person, walk, building, merriment" are dead compared to "boorish oaf, stomp, ramshackle hut, cackle." Of course, you will frequently be talking about things like jus­tice, honesty, power, delinquency, compassion—none of which you can actually take hold of. But you can make these ideas come alive in your examples and details, where you can use the words that fill the mind with color, warmth, and sharp outlines.

Here are two student compositions written on the same subject, "As I Gaze Out the Window." In the first one, the writer doesn't seem to have seen anything, judging from the lifeless words he uses. Compare his effort to the second se­lection, which makes you feel as if you were there, too:

A.

Upon glancing out the classroom window, I realized from the outlines of the tall buildings on in the distance that one doesn't have to go far to find a great piece of work. Here, amidst the traffic and people, we have pieces of architecture that took years of planning, hard labor, and thousands of dollars. Although I'm not very familiar with the surrounding neighborhood, I imagine all types of worthy projects, works of art, and plans for future gen­erations are taking place in these structures. One, on in the distance, seems as if it would have as much aesthetic value as it does functional.

B.

A heavy sky, lit by unseen fires, hangs limp and thick and wet beyond the park. With sloth-like arms it enfolds itself languidly around a building top, leaving to the eye no more than a flat and aging pen-and-ink that shifts from gray to darker gray and back again. Blowing hard, I put a hole in it and see the sun squirt sparklers on a half-drowned tree, hear suddenly the song of one lone bird pipe echoes through the arch below.

You notice that the words that make the second paragraph attractive are composed mainly of one or two syllables; cer­tainly they are not big or long. They have been put in the right places, so that the language has punch and style. You can do it, too. Make the nouns in your sentences suggest things that can be recognized in a particular way rather than as a general class. Let your verbs provide movement, action, emotion. Say things positively. Instead of "The facts were given by my friend in a way that showed he didn't care what happened," say "George blurted out the truth defiantly." Let your adjectives and adverbs, when you find it advisable to use them, add color and detail to the picture you are cre­ating. A good way to practice is to take ordinary sentences and try to build them up into lively thoughts. Here's what some students were able to do with two such sentences:

Original Sentence

The woman was angry.

Variations

The shrill-voiced matron screeched in piercing tones at her wilting spouse.

The short, dumpy shrew, red-faced with rage, wheeled on her tormentor.

Kate's torrent of angry words flooded the room with venom.

Original Sentence

The tree was tail.

Variations

The majestic spruce towered over its lesser neighbors like a lighthouse above dark and jagged rocks.

The gnarled oak stretched leafy arms languorously toward the sky.

The graceful poplar seemed to play tag with the drift­ing clouds.

Let the words be simple and bare when the beauty is in the thought. When you talk of concepts that are common to all human beings, you don't have to dress them up. State the point cleanly; let the reader marvel at your wisdom, not your flowery language. An excellent example of this kind of writ­ing is found in The Fighting Cock, by the French playwright Jean Anouilh:

Whether a man lights his house by pressing a switch or rubbing a tinder box, you can't tell me it makes the slightest difference to what is in his heart. Human beings have never changed . . . and they never will. They can blow up this planet or organize it in any way they like, but the real problems will remain what they nave always been. You're handsome or you're ugly. You're bright or you're a fool. You've got some honor or you haven't.

Or this from a student composition:

I could do without the idiot whose sense of humor leads him to believe he is funny when he makes jokes about my size. Now, I realize I'm not thin. When I walk in Central Park the horses neigh for fear I might hire one of them to go riding. I realize this and try to be broad-minded, but when people make jokes at my expense and my parents chide me for my weight, it gets under my skin. Go ahead; say it: there's plenty under my skin already.

Don't be afraid to let go. If you feel in a poetic mood and would like to write about some inner emotions, forget about the self-consciousness that makes people cover up most of the time. Come out with it; you'll feel better afterward, and you will probably produce a superior piece of work. There's nothing wrong with poets. Whitman, Sandburg, Frost—every one a he-man, and yet unashamed to let the reader glimpse his sensitive mind. Observe how in the two selections that follow the students who wrote them did let go and produced superb paragraphs:

White is for Brides

(written in 1943)

White is for brides. White is for brides after the war. Black and brown and red are for war. Sorrow is gray and pale blue, making an end to contentment and hope. Hope is white and pastel pink and warm yellow. Hope is candles and good music on Sundays, and sounds of a man shaving in the morning. I hope I am a bride after the war.

I am very much afraid. Mud, and stupidity, and re­sponsibility, and no women and killing, make men differ­ent. Am I a defeatist? Will I be happily married in spite of myself? I am still young, young enough to daydream, young enough to wonder; old enough to have con­temporaries who are dead and cold in the terrible sea, and whose minds have become accustomed to the racking noise and movement of a stuttering machine gun. I am too old and too young. I am too naive and too sophisti­cated, I want to grow up quickly, and yet I am frightened of growing up quickly.

Has youth always struggled? Has youth always ques­tioned? Has youth always found the answer? I hope, but I am afraid.

(Did you notice the deliberate but effective repetition?)

Apple Orchards in Maine

I'm hungry for something. I don't know what it is, but there's a gnawing inside, a thirst for something, a void.

There are apple orchards in Maine, I think. They say there are apple orchards in Maine. Cool greenness, the tang and vigor of cold ruddy apples in the fresh northern air; is that a Maine apple orchard?

That's what I want to see, to know, to have beauty and greenness and freshness in my reach. I want to know what exists beyond my own small sphere. I want to see beauty and life outside of here.

I want to feel the surge of the sea beneath me, to rise and fall with the waves. I want to wing smoothly over fleecy clouds and jagged mountains; I want to glide somberly under the ocean, along coral-paved paths. I want to jolt along in a bumpy bus through the sidestreets of small towns. I want to cross the desert like a shot of silver, to the thump of a locomotive. I want to walk on my own legs through valleys and in wooded mountains.

Do those things exist? Will they wait for me? Will the beauty wait?

As you see, when you write from the heart, the words come a little more easily. And again, they aren't complicated, rarely used, obscure; they are sharp and alive.

Now let's try some exercises to see how well you have learned the language tricks. You can compare your results with the suggestions made at the end of the chapter.

A. In each of the composition excerpts below, underline the word or phrase that ties together the paragraphs. Then underline the word or phrase that acts as a bridge between the sentences within each paragraph.

l.

The days are past when a workman labored from early morning to late evening, at a dollar a day, to obtain an ordinary living. His modem counterpart is more likely to work for at least a dollar an hour, eight hours a day, and five days a week. Even the lowliest worker, therefore, has leisure time nowadays. How this time is spent should be given careful consideration by everyone.

Our society recognizes the value of increased freedom from toil. According to doctors, rested minds and bodies function better and can produce much more. But does rest mean loafing or doing nothing at all? The answer of authorities to this question is an emphatic "No!" They say that doing something different from the daily rou­tine can be even better for one's health than lounging on a couch. For instance, the accountant who plays tennis or builds cabinets in his workshop creates a stimulating balance in his activities. Similarly, the steamfitter or ball­player can derive benefit from a game of checkers or a crossword puzzle or a good book. It is a change, not necessarily relaxation, that is most helpful.

2.

A new-born baby girl is unaware of the world about her. So far as she is concerned, existence consists of sleep­ing, drinking milk from a bottle, and being changed. The helpless tot doesn't hear very well, sees rather poor­ly, and cannot speak at all. Certainly, the phenomenon of sound has not yet interested her.

After a few weeks, her sensitivity toward sound awak­ens. Apparently, she begins to be conscious of her par­ents' voices. They talk to her and she looks back as if she understands. Later, she becomes interested in toys that make noise. At first, a new rattle from grandma frightens her. But she gets used to it and shakes it at all hours. Yes, she seems to say, sound is fun.

At three months, she becomes keenly aware of special sounds about her. A puppy's bark, the television set in another room, the thunder on a stormy night, the chat­ter of buds on a bright, sunny morning—all these have a visible effect upon baby. One day she discovers that she can make her own sounds. She laughs when she is tickled, cries when she is hungry, and gurgles to herself in the secret language of infants. Now sound has become part of her inner and outer life.

B. Using substitution or elimination, rewrite each of the fol­lowing paragraphs to correct the needless repetition:

l.

I can remember the time when I was about seven years old. It was Christmas time. My mother took us to Macy's shopping as she so often did at Christmas time. Signs of Christmas could be seen everywhere, especially Santa Claus and his reindeers. Since Christmas time was the only time we ever visited Macy's, we got very excited at the sight of Macy's. We thought Macy s was the main office of Santa Claus and his reindeers. We regarded it as such and had fun doing it at Christmas time.

2.

One of the main reasons I desire to become a lawyer is that a lawyer commands respect from people of all pro­fessions. After I become a lawyer, I shall strive hard to follow a lawyer's code of ethics. I am trying to become a lawyer because I am fascinated by legal things in our society and enjoy Jaw immensely. I feel I shall make a good lawyer.

The submarine will also be used a great deal commer­cially. With the many underwater deposits of minerals and oil, the submarine will be able to be used to dig them out. Moreover, the submarine will be able to transport these resources anywhere in the world. Submarines will be able to pick up many gallons of oil, for instance, in special plastic trains and then bring them anywhere in the world. I believe that submarines will also be used to transport passengers. A trip along the ocean floor in a submarine should be very exciting.

C. The paragraphs below have been deliberately written so that the sentences are overlong and complicated. Rewrite them with the aim of introducing as much sentence variety as you can. See how close you can come to the way each paragraph was written originally.

1.

The girl sitting on her right tapped her on the shoul­der and said that she thought Lisa shouldn't eat so much because if she were as short as Lisa she would try to stay thin and besides the other girls had just been saying that if she ate less . . . She stopped abruptly as she caught sight of Lisa's outraged stare since Lisa had been listen­ing to her uncomprehendingly and the tears came rush­ing to her eyes but she held them back and all of her be-pompadoured neighbors parted their over-red mouths in uncertain smiles as Lisa sniffed and thought what did they know anyhow.

2.

The writer is amazed but not amused by the fact that so many people answer questions with questions like when asked whether there is homework they also ask why they should know, or when asked whether they like a sid they want to know whether one is kidding, or when asked about a date they want to know why not. Such people are as popular with the writer as Republicans are in Georgia.

3.

This is my first formal dance, thought Sylvia, and this is the night I've spent half of my childhood dreaming about and the ballroom looks as beautiful as I imagined it would be so that an author would describe this as a picturesque scene with gaily dressed girls and smiling men. I wonder what I am thinking of and why I am try­ing to deceive myself since I'm the only girl here who hasn't danced and I'm a wallflower which is a horrible name but maybe if I stand closer to the center of the floor some one will ask me to dance but if I do the other girls will see me and they’ll be certain to joke to their partners about some girls being able to obtain a perfect mark in Latin but not having a boy to dance with but I'll have to take a chance.

D. Each of the selections below was taken from a student composition that wasted language. Rewrite each one and get rid of the extra words.

1.

From my point of view, I would like to say that this unusual person is unusual to me only because of the kindness and help and encouragement she has shown to me in the past. A person such as she is  rare in our modern society as it exists today.

2.

I was born the youngest of three children. By the time I had reached the age of six years, my sister was no longer home because she had gone away and gotten married and my brother wasn't there either because he had gone away to a military school. Thus I was the only child left at home with my parents.

3.

I must admit that I felt better when I realized that the pain had not been inflicted on purpose but that it couldn't be helped. This made me come to the conclu­sion that some cures are not possible unless there is a little suffering involved in them.

4.

There is also the question of why there weren't more lifeboats to accommodate so large a number of people who were there. It would be possible to say that this was criminal negligence by the people who were in charge of such things.

5.

If you are a person who has a vivid imagination, then you are a person who is never lonely. It is this ability that can help you dream of exciting trips that you might take some day in the future. Also, you can sit down and read a good book and picture yourself as if you were right there where the action of the book is taking place even if you have never been there.

E. In each of the paragraphs below you will be told, in as plain language as possible, what the situation is, who the people involved are, and what is happening. Rewrite the paragraph, trying to use language that will make the material come alive. Then compare your results with the para­graph as it was actually written (printed at the end of the chapter).

1.

A girl is sitting in a school lunchroom, her face show­ing that she is not very happy. She unwraps a package and finds two sandwiches which don't look too appetiz­ing, a rather ordinary cookie, and an apple. She sighs as she looks at her food. Then she pities herself for liv­ing in such a dull world and having to eat such poor food. She could have been alive at another time and been a famous lady. She could have spent her time making herself beautiful and eaten unusual foods. She wonders why she must do only routine things and why no romance is in her life.

2.

A child thinks of the days when she and her brother played with boats made out of long pieces of wood. Other little pieces of wood were used as people. The bathtub was the sea and in it the ships traveled. All kinds of exciting adventures took place. Her brother's boat did not sink but the other boats would be sunk.

3·

Mike has taken his father's car and is driving his date for the first time in traffic. He finds it is not easy to talk and pretend to be calm with his girl friend while concen­trating on the cars about him. There are lights, other drivers, cabs. Suddenly he goes through a stop sign. A look in the minor tells him he has been spotted by the police.

Suggested Answers

A. Between paragraphs: l) this time, increased freedom from toil

2) not yet, after a few weeks, sound is fun, special sounds

 Between sentences: 1) First paragraph

his modern counterpart, therefore, this time

Second paragraph

according to doctors, hut does rest, this question, they say, for instance, simi­larly, it is a change

First paragraph

so far as she is concerned, the helpless tot, certainly

Second paragraph apparently, they, later, at first, but . . . it, yes

Third paragraph

all these, one day, she laughs, now

B.            

1.

I can remember when I was about seven. My mother took us shopping to Macy's, as she often did at Christ­mas time. Signs of the holiday were everywhere, espe­cially Santa Claus and his reindeers. Since we never visited the department store otherwise, we got very ex­cited at the sight of it. We thought this was the main office of the jovial gentleman and his steeds. We had fun thinking it so.

2.

A main reason I desire to become a lawyer is to com­mand respect from people of all professions. After I am one, I shall strive to follow a proper code of ethics. I want to do this kind of work because I am fascinated by and enjoy law. I believe I shall make a good member of the bar.

3.

The submarine will also be used commercially, per­haps to dig out the many underwater deposits of min­erals and oil. Moreover, it will be able to transport these resources anywhere. For instance, large quantities of oil can be picked up in special plastic trains and distributed widely. It may be possible, in addition, to transport passengers. A trip along the ocean floor should be very ex­citing.

C.

1.

The girl sitting on her light tapped her on the shoul-der with a stinging forefinger.

"Say," she cried, "why do you eat so much? Really, if I were as short as you, I'd try to stay thin. The girls were just saying that maybe if you ate less you'd . . .'

She stopped abruptly as she caught sight of Lisa's out­raged stare. The poor thing had been listening uncomprehendingly. The tears came rushing to Lisa's eyes, but she held them back. Her be-pompadoured neighbors parted their over-red mouths in uncertain smiles. Lisa sniffed. What did they know anyhow?

2.

It's amazing, but not amusing. Hordes of people make up the type. They answer questions with questions.

Q. "Do we have homework?"
A. "How should I know?"

Q. "Do you like that girl?"
A. "Are you kidding?'

Q. "How about a date?"
A. "Why not?"

These are the people who have as much chance of be­ing popular with me as a Republican in Georgia.

3.

This is my first formal dance, Sylvia thought. This is the night I've spent half my childhood dreaming about. The ballroom looks as beautiful as I imagined it would be. An author would describe this as a picturesque scene with gaily dressed girls and smiling men. What am I thinking about? Why am I trying to deceive myself? I'm the only girl here who hasn't danced. I'm a wall­flower. Maybe if I stand closer to the center of the floor someone will ask me to dance. If I do that, however, the other girls will see me, and they'll joke to their partners about some girls being able to obtain a perfect mark in Latin but not having a boy to dance with. I'll have to take that chance.

D.

1.

This person is unusual because of the kindness, help, and encouragement she has shown me. Such a person is rare in our society.

2.

I was the youngest of three children. By the time I was six, my sister was no longer home because she had married and my brother had also gone away to military school. Thus I was the only child left.

3.

I felt better when I realized that the pain couldn't be helped. I concluded that some cures are not possible without a little suffering.

4.

Why weren't there more lifeboats to accommodate so many people? This was criminal negligence.

5.

If you have a vivid imagination, you are never lonely. You can dream of exciting trips you might take some day. Also, you can read a good book and picture your­self right there where the action is.

E.            

1.

Betty sat in the school lunchroom, a look of discon­tent on her round young face. Her grubby brown hands began unwrapping a brown paper-covered package. She discovered two soggy cheese sandwiches, a crumbling oatmeal cookie, and an apple. An audible sigh escaped her lips as she regarded the meal spread out before her with distaste. Her mind traveled over familiar channels as she wondered why it fell to her lot to live in such a drab world and eat such tasteless food, when she should by rights have lived in the time of Marie Antoinette, or better still, Helen of Troy. Ah, for the olden days when girls were delicate, sheltered creatures who could devote all their time to making themselves lovelier, and dine on nectar and sparkling champagne. Why, oh why, was she a poor girl who wasn't allowed to do anything more ex­citing than homework, and for whom no lad ever held doors?

2.

She was thinking back, back to the time when she and her brother used to play boats. The long pieces of wood were the ships. The small pieces that fitted into the notches of the boats were the people. The bathtub was the vast and wonderful sea, the exotic ocean, murmuring of distant lands and gray dawns. Oh, the strange and perilous journeys that these vessels traveled! The storms that shook them, the pirates that plundered them! But always they were guided safely home under the sure pilotage of her brother's hand. The wonder of it! His ships never sank. It was only the enemy bark that over­turned swiftly, the horrible hand of revenge sweeping down and destroying in a moment the proud lift of a queenly bow. And the people aboard would sink slowly to the bottomless deep.

3.

Mike hadn't figured on so much driving, but if that's what she wanted, it was fine with him. Traffic got heavier as they approached the midtown section. It wasn't easy being witty and suave and watching lights and pe­destrians at the same time. Cant afford to slip up to­night, Mike. Stay under the limit. Watch the lights, the signs. Where'd that fool come from? He coulda hit us. What'd she say? Yes, Paula. Wow, almost scraped that cab. Didn't realize traffic'd be so bad tonight. Darn, he'd done it. Right through that stop sign. What kind of idiot are you anyway, Mike? Quickly he glanced into his rearview mirror. The familiar green and white job with the red revolving light on top had cut out from behind another car a block behind.

Are You Ready To Move Onto The Next Lesson? Click Here...