Cutting unneeded words

Spotted this one over at Matthew Stibbe’s Bad Language blog:

(Click for a larger view.)

I thought this ad was clever; by using the red strike-through, the key message—“BlueMotion saves you money”—is emphasized, but readers who want to know more can still read the details.

“Crash blossoms”

Did you ever read a newspaper headline that made you do a double-take? One that had two meanings: The one the writer intended, and another, unintended meaning?

Like:

Squad Helps Dog Bite Victim

or

Man fatally shot by his house

Thanks to Nancy Friedman, I now know that instances of this phenomenon are called crash blossoms. The term was coined by participants on the Testy Copy Editors forum to describe this sort of headline after one of them saw the headline “Violinist Linked to JAL Crash Blossoms.”  Of course after reading something like that, the natural question is “What’s a crash blossom?”

English is particularly susceptible to the ambiguity that leads to crash blossoms, because so many English words can fulfill different linguistic roles. For example, the word fries can be either a noun or a verb. Thus something like “McDonald’s Fries the Holy Grail for Potato Farmers” can leave readers confused if they read “Fries” as a verb, rather than a noun.

Even worse is when you pair words that can both function as nouns or verbs, like this one: “British Left Waffles on Falklands.” (Did they leave syrup as well?)

So, as you cut unneeded words from your work, don’t be overzealous. You may find that, by removing too many words, you’ve created a crash blossom.

By the way, check out Nancy’s post, which includes links to several lists of crash blossoms spotted in the wild.

What kind of writer are you?

Writers can be sorted into a few different types based on their motivation for writing. Here are three of those types:

You write because you have to

It’s part of your job; you have to write email messages, proposals, contracts, and reports as part of your daily work. It’s not something that you particularly care for, but you have to be able to use words well to be successful.

You write because you have to

You have a passion for something, and writing is a way for you to continue or increase your participation in that thing you love. Maybe you love sports but you’re too klutzy to carry a football, so writing lets you stay connected with the game. Or you wanted to be an astronaut, but you’re too nearsighted to even be a pilot,  so you write about space exploration instead. Or you’re an authority on something like business-to-business marketing or collectable beer bottle caps, and you write about it because you want to share your knowledge and passion with others.

You write because you have to

You have something bubbling up inside you that comes out as words on a page, an itch that only pen and paper can scratch. Asleep or awake, you dream scenes and stories that enchant or torment you and you feel a deep loss if you don’t capture them on the page. You feel like you have a demon or monster in your gut, tearing at your ribcage, and writing is how you exorcise (or exercise) the beast. You write because it’s cheaper than therapy and healthier than drugs and alcohol.

So, which one best describes you? Or are you in a category of your own invention?

Why do you write?

Things you should never write: “and/or”

Leslie O’Flahavan and Ray Ward have some words for writers who think nothing of using and/or.

O’Flahavan says the and/or construction is “just plain dumb.” Ward doesn’t go that far, but says that there are better ways to express the idea.

I can’t think of a situation where using “x and/or y” would be preferable to ““x,  y, or both.” Can you?

Bad writing: Getting down to the root causes

When treating a disease, the key is eliminating the cause, and not just focusing on erasing the symptoms.

The same applies to bad writing. You can drive yourself crazy chasing all of the ways that writing can go wrong if you don’t spend some time trying to root out the causes.

So what are the causes? Lack of training? Lack of time? Ignorance? Laziness? Apathy?

How about fear?

In On Writing, Stephen King says:

I’m convinced that fear is at the root of most bad writing. If one is writing for one’s own pleasure, that fear may be mild—timidity is the word I’ve used here. If, however, one is working under deadline—a school paper, a newspaper article, the SAT writing sample—that fear may be intense. Dumbo got airborne with the help of a magic feather; you may feel the urge to grasp a passive verb or one of those nasty adverbs for the same reason. Just remember before you do that Dumbo didn’t need the feather; the magic was in him.

Sometimes we’re fearful because we’re unsure of ourselves. We’re not sure our readers will think we’re credible if we speak plainly, so we try to puff up our words and our syntax, the way a kitten puffs itself up to appear intimidating. Or we’re unsure of the quality of our writing, so we attempt to mimic someone we think is good.

Sometimes we’re fearful of sticking out. When everyone we work with litters their writing with gobbledygook, passive voice, and excessive adjectives, then we’re tempted to do the same in order to blend in. “That’s the way we do it here.” (Nobody seems willing to ask if it’s the best way to do it, or if it’s even a good way to do it.)

Ray Ward thinks that the fear of sticking out is common in legal writing.

From what I’ve seen, most bad legal writing stems from a drive to fit in with the herd—to do whatever everyone else is doing. People are afraid to do things differently from the way they see most others do them. Folks, if you strive to follow the herd, you won’t distinguish yourself. Dare to do things differently; it’s the only way to set yourself apart.

Does your fear interfere with your writing? If so, what are you afraid of?

(Hat tip to Ray Ward for pointing me to King’s quote.)