Give Me Pen and Ink and I Will Write My Mind: 10 Tips For Aspiring Writers (Myself Included)

“Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,
I will be brief: your noble son is mad!”

Although these words were written about the melancholy Prince Hamlet, William Shakespeare might also have been speaking to writers of academic papers, educational articles, journals, and blogs. Not to say that it is madness to do such work, but to give us insight into the art of good writing.

The aim of this post is to share a few tips that I have picked up on my journey toward becoming a better writer. That quest (while far from complete) included a spark for writing that ignited in grade school, went dormant for many years, and was rekindled in my thirties. Since then, I have written articles for Percussive Notes (publication of the Percussive Arts Society) and other periodicals. In the 1990s I was a staff writer for Jazz Player Magazine and Sticks and Mallets Magazine (both now sadly defunct).

To illustrate certain points, I have used examples from one of my first published articles “The War of the Rudiments” from Percussive Notes (PN, June 1994). The article was targeted to performers and teachers of percussion instruments and has since been re-printed in Bandworld magazine and has also been cited in other scholarly research. 

The article also benefitted greatly from the editorial process. And since I keep everything that I have ever written, I still have the original draft of the article that was submitted to Percussive Notes to use for comparison. 

Tip #1: Invite Your Readers In. Lure your readers into the article with a short and intriguing opening paragraph and—when possible and appropriate—a clever title.

Unfortunately, the two-paragraph opening of the article I originally submitted, did not follow Tip #1:

“Every so often percussion teachers set out on a mission to reassess their pedagogical techniques. The usual intent of this rethinking is to help percussionists develop necessary skills that will enable them to compete effectively in the current job market. Several years ago, percussion instructors seemed to have three main concerns about their students: 1) that they did not read music well enough 2) that they could not play keyboard instruments and 3) they spent entirely too much time playing drum rudiments in an effort to earn that N.A.R.D. button.” 

“With that the first shots of the percussive civil war had been fired, the camps were divided; the battle lines drawn. On one side the percussionists denounced rudimental drumming as an antiquated method of rote learning and on the other side the drummers continued their relentless pursuit of the perfect three minute roll.”

This opening was too long and didn’t invite the reader into the article or encourage them to continue reading. In the final published version, my third paragraph was moved to the top by Percussive Notes Senior Editor Rick Mattingly, and this became the opening:

“RUDIMENTAL DRUMMING in general and drum rudiments in particular are often at the center of heated debate regarding their relevance to a contemporary percussion program. Should they be given only cursory mention due to their historical significance? Should they be a part of every percussionist’s technical development? Should they be dismissed as a useless, antiquated teaching tool never to be used? All tough questions—none of which are about to be addressed in this article (I’m not that crazy). What will be addressed are the many positive aspects of rudimental drumming, and the importance and use of the fundamental philosophy of rudimental drumming known as the ‘rudimental idea.’”

This is a much more inviting opening that also confirms the lighthearted tone of the article and tells the reader exactly what will, and will not, be discussed. If readers want to know how the plot will thicken, they must continue reading. Some readers may require further encouragement in which case Tip #2 might be helpful.

Tip # 2: Keep it Short and Sweet and Looking Neat. Breaking up the prose into bite sized chunks gives the reader a sense of accomplishment every time they reach the end of a paragraph. This encourages them to read another, and another, and another until they find themselves happy and proud at the end of the article. While the visual aspect of an article for a publication is under the purview of the editor and designer, it might be helpful to keep this in mind during the writing process, particularly if you are writing a blog or a paper for a class without the assistance of an editorial team. 

Next is perhaps the most challenging aspect of keeping things short and sweet and it is not for the faint of heart. Read on if you dare.

Tip #3: Kill Your Darlings. As a writer you must never be afraid, as William Faulkner wrote, to “kill your darlings.”

To kill your darlings means to cut out any superfluous words, phrases, paragraphs, or even chapters that don’t serve the purpose of your writing. Pride of authorship is one of the most difficult writing maladies to overcome. Writers can become so attached to a passage they’ve worked hard to compose—an imaginative phrase or a clever wordplay—that they can’t bring themselves to hit the delete key if it doesn’t directly benefit the writing.

Here is an example of one of my darlings from the first draft:

“What is the Rudimental Idea? In 31 words or less the rudimental idea is the concept of isolating specific patterns or techniques and perfecting them through numerous, exact repetitions, building both stamina, control, and dexterity.”

Final Version: “The rudimental idea is the concept of isolating specific patterns or techniques and perfecting them through numerous, exact repetitions, building stamina, control, and dexterity.” 

Although counting the words in the sentence and invoking a line from an old TV gameshow made me chuckle, it did nothing to advance the story. Kill it!

Here is another darling from the first draft:

Original: “Should they be dismissed as a useless, antiquated teaching tool never to be used? All tough questions. All burning questions. All profound questions which are not about to be addressed in this article (I'm not that crazy).”

Editor version: “All tough questions—none of which are about to be addressed in this article (I’m not that crazy).”

Brevity is indeed the “soul of wit.” Thanks again, Mr. Shakespeare and Mr. Mattingly.

Tip #4: I have nothing to say and I am saying it. Composer and musical philosopher, John Cage famously began his Lecture on Nothing with the words “I have nothing to say and I am saying it.” Perhaps the biggest flaw I find in some academic or educational writing is that it doesn’t seem to have anything particularly compelling or original to say. When writing an article, think about what you are trying to prove, disprove, research, promote, expound upon, or sell, then keep the writing focused on that goal. 

Of course, there is writing that can exist simply for the purpose of entertainment. A funny observation or story about an interesting experience is enjoyable to read and there doesn’t always have to be a be a moral, parable, or object lesson to give the story a purpose, (e.g. Some People Have No Imagination). On the other hand, writers such as Dave Barry (Dave Barry is Not Making this Stuff Up) or Steve Martin (Pure Drivel) are good examples of humorous writing that often makes a larger point. 

Remember: only John Cage could get away with having nothing to say and saying it anyway, but in the end, you are still just telling a story, and everybody loves a good story.

Tip #5: Tell Me a Story. Writing to inform or educate is a challenge but the best writers of academic prose are able to turn seemingly dry subject matter into novelesque page-turners on par with a James Michener thriller. 

For example, in his introduction to The Work of Music Theory: Selected Essays, Thomas Christensen begins “It may not be intuitive for some of us to think of [music] theory in this way. After all, ‘theory’ is a big word in academia, one that we often associate with grand answers to difficult problems, whether or not we bring any positivistic and pseudo-scientific baggage in tow. But a good deal of what we call music theory is anything but that. It can also be focused on small, parochial questions; it can have modest pedagogical aims; it can be empirical or speculative, written in a private, quirky dialect that eludes easy translation. Indeed, so unruly is the historical record of music theory that it is even questionable whether the discipline is held together by anything other than the name.” 

This paragraph makes me want to read on to find out “what happens next.” The tone of Professor Christensen’s writing is scholarly yet colorful and compelling to read, and you also get the feeling that the words he uses are also those he uses every day. When you write, you should always sound like you (or at least a more dressed up version of you). This can help avoid the dangers described in Tip #6.

Tip #6: Avoid “tediousness” and “outward flourishes.” Perhaps the most obvious example of this is what I call Thesaurus-itus. Yes, that petrifying pestilence that plagues impassioned poets in the midnight hour as they frenziedly quest for mellifluous locutions to inject into the vacuous blank spaces of their otherwise insipid prose. In other words, sometimes aspiring writers resort to the Thesaurus at the last minute before a deadline to help them sound smarter. 

Like Shakespeare, I am a fan of alliteration (e.g. “that petrifying pestilence that plagues impassioned poets” from the paragraph above). It can be a powerful tool when used properly but it can also be an unfortunate side effect of Thesaurus-itus. The brain likes patterns, so writers can find themselves choosing a series of alliterations (repetition of consonant sounds typically) or assonance (repetition of vowel sounds) when using a synonym generator or thesaurus.

The thesaurus exists to help writers find the proper word that enables them to more precisely express an idea and to spur the writer’s brain to think critically about what they are trying to say. Some say that “words have meanings” while others hold that “words don’t have meaning; meanings have words.” (Firth, 1997) 

“Words don’t have meaning; meanings have words.”

John Firth

Finding the right word—the one that makes your meaning clear to a reader—may require drilling down several layers into the Thesaurus to find the best choice. The result is more often than not a complete rewrite of the sentence in question which is usually the best option.

Speaking of words and their meanings, Tip #7 can be helpful when putting those words together into ideas.

Tip #7: Consider carefully what you write. “I’ll call for pen and ink, and write my mind” wrote Shakespeare for the Earl of Suffolk who was unable to express his love for Margaret because he “dare not speak” his mind. In many instances however, writing your mind will just get you into trouble. From dissertations to emails, it might be a better approach to think carefully about something before committing it to prose.

Be careful of sweeping statements or hyperbole filled pronouncements that could be easily argued against or disproved with a simple Google search. Declaring something as the “greatest,” “first,” “fastest” “most important” or “only one of its kind” is often difficult to prove and quickly diminishes your credibility as a writer.

Similarly, statements that are unintentionally hurtful or insulting can be counterproductive to the point you are trying to make. In “The War of the Rudiments” I wrote, “On one side the percussionists denounced rudimental drumming as an antiquated method of rote learning and on the other side the drummers continued their relentless pursuit of the perfect three minute roll.” In hindsight I should have removed that sentence because it gave the impression that I was taking sides against rudimental drummers which was not the case at all. It was meant to be ironic, but I think it missed the mark.

As mentioned earlier, inside jokes or unexplained arcane humor can also cause your writing to fall short of its intended goal. It can be good to challenge readers to meditate on your writing, to have to think a little bit to understand what you are saying, but it must be presented properly and there must be a payoff (a reveal) at some point. I wish I had included an explanation of the significance of the “N. A. R. D. button” (mentioned in Tip #1). Even back in 1994 there were likely many percussionists reading the article who did not know what N.A.R.D was and what that statement meant. *

*The National Association of Rudimental Drummers was an organization dedicated to the promotion of Rudimental Drumming that existed from 1933 to 1977 with the support and assistance of the Ludwig Drum Company and the Ludwig family. Once you had performed your rudiments and a solo for a current N.A.R.D. member you received a patch (button) that would identify you as a member (I thought you would want to know). 

But if you make a bold pronouncement you better have someone to back you up.

Tip #8: Wait for Backup. Any good Cop Show will teach you to always wait for backup or bad things could happen! The same applies for writing. You may have a great idea but unless you are the ultimate authority on a given subject, you will need some backup. 

The point of “The War of the Rudiments” was to advance my concept of the “Rudimental Idea,” a notion put into action for me by an early percussion pedagogue, Haskell W. Harr:

“In a 1979 article for Percussive Notes (Vol. 18 #1 Fall) Haskell Harr wrote that ‘A drum rudiment is a fundamental rhythmic pattern which when practiced diligently, will aid in developing a basic technique for the drum. The drum rudiments are the scales and arpeggios of the other instruments.’ He went on to describe the rudiments as being ‘misunderstood’ and that the purpose of the rudiments, ‘...is to provide a basic system for developing dexterity with the hands for the control of the drumsticks.’”

Mr. Harr laid the groundwork for my premise and is backing me up. All I had to do was put my own concept into words.

The next question might be, how do I get started?

Tip #9: Always Make an Outline (or don’t). Some will advise that making an outline before starting to write is the best way to begin a new project. I am a fan of outlining for longer works such as books or dissertations or for the late-night term paper due tomorrow. Organizing your ideas into an outline does make filling in the blanks easier since all you need to do is respond to each point of the outline and then before you know it, your work is done.

On the other hand, it is also good to simply start writing and see where it leads you. I always say that, for me, editing is easier than writing, so just go ahead and get your ideas down whenever they begin to flow, then you can go back later and tinker with them all you want. Writing takes practice, so anytime an idea pops into your head, write it down because it may come in handy at another time. If not, it will still be good practice.

The final tip is possibly the most important for anyone who as Shakespeare would say, “labors in the mind”, but it is also the most difficult to follow.

“Hard-handed men that work in Athens here, Which never labored in their minds till now…”

— William Shakespeare
(Midsummer Night’s Dream)

Tip #10: Get a Tougher skin! Writing is often a solitary pursuit but it can benefit greatly from the input of others. Teachers, friends, colleagues, and editors can provide helpful critiques of your work, inspire new ideas and directions for research, and even encourage you to finish a project. 

But to be able to take advantage of the advice of others, it will become necessary to learn how to take, and use, criticism. Accepting criticism is difficult but necessary, killing your darlings is excruciating yet crucial, and suffering rejection is both humiliating and edifying. They are all part of the writing process. Remember, if you don’t want to fall down, don’t go skiing, and if you don’t want to take criticism, don’t start writing.

Written work can be criticized or rejected for any number of reasons, but the trick is to keep trying and—returning once again to Hamlet—learning to “suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.” In a 1991 interview, singer and song writer Paul Simon spoke about the dangers of writing songs about love when he said, “If you miss and they laugh at you or criticize you, get a tougher skin.”

Get tougher and work harder but, most of all, keep writing.

“You fail only if you stop writing.”

— Ray Bradbury

Writing, re-writing, criticism, editing, and more re-writing, are all part of the process. Like anything worth doing, effective writing takes practice and patience. I hope you find these tips helpful in your own journey toward good writing.

Citations:

Christensen, Thomas. The Work of Music Theory: Selected Essays, 2014. Ashgate Routledge

Firth, John R. Papers in Linguistics 1934-1951. 1957. Oxford: OUP

Harr, Haskell. “Drum Rudiments.” Percussive Notes, Vol. 18, #1 Fall 1979, p. 71.

Moore, Dan. “The War of the Rudiments.” Percussive Notes, Vol. 32, #3 June 1994, pp. 29-33 (edited by Rick Mattingly, Senior Editor of Percussive Notes)