Part 1: Writing Hard.

“Write hard and clear about what hurts.” – Hemingway

Hemingway said it all. But like most things, its easier said than done. For many writers it can be scary putting down your first words on that white page — a white page that looms large, swallowing resolve. So when you start, you start with a nudge, then a scoot, then tiptoe and so on.

That isn’t writing. That’s insecurity.

BUT THAT’S OK….

At first.

When tackling a novel (or any writing), its natural to feel apprehensive; to tread lightly and write with some ounce of caution. But if you don’t recognize, diagnose, and correct that state of mind quickly, it will bite you in the ass later on. Believe me, I still have the teeth marks on my cheeks if you want to see.

Writing timidly is at first an instinct born from inexperience and anxiousness. Perfectly natural. CONTINUING to write passively is a habit born from fear. A fear of growing. A fear of learning. A fear of realizing that everything you had once thought was Midas-touched, was actually shit.

This fear penetrates deep and stems your mental fortitude to objectively pick apart your craft (and thus improve.) Ultimately, it will stunt you in a bog of personal mediocrity.

But maybe you’re fine with that. Maybe you’re content with were you are. That’s fine too. But not me, and hopefully, you neither.

As writers — storytellers — we should always strive to tell great stories, better. Indeed, this is the curve of all art. To do art harder, clearer, and more honestly.

Writing Hard: Creating prose that punches, not dodges.

So, you may be asking: “Diego, what the #$@# are you spitting on about? What constitutes passive writing? How do you fix it?” In this example I’m going to demonstrate how to tighten your prose. Doing so will harden it. Compact it. Sharpen it.

Soft Version:

“Eric started shuffling to the door. He could almost hear some muffled voices behind it. He was completely filled with fear, basically becoming a walking pee stain as he neared. The voices began to rise in strength. Virtually every wall in the house began to shake. His heart was beating so rapidly he almost keeled over. Then the door started opening. The voices were lowering in intensity. Eric gasped at the oily darkness beyond the door that was starting to creep towards him. He tried to scream, but his lungs weren’t working.”

Hard Version:

“Eric shuffled to the door. Muffled voices chattered behind it. Pee ran down his leg. The voices rose in strength. The house trembled, then shook, then roiled. He fell backwards, heart racing. The door crashed open. The voices quieted. The house stilled. Eric gasped. An oily darkness — squirming and alive, crept towards him. He screamed, but no sound came out. Only silence. Only black.”

I took out the passive words: started, starting, could, almost, some, completely, basically, began to, and also shortened sentences while adding transitive/intransitive verbs (I HIGHLY recommend purchasing the book The Word-Loss Diet by Rayne Hall, to learn more.) Doing so helps bring the reader closer to the action, suspense, and character…. This is called showing, rather then telling. Showing creates immediacy and tension. The life blood of any book that wants readers to keep turning pages.

Think of it as boxing. You want sharp, powerful jabs. Hits that flick out, tag the reader in the face, then reposition for the next hit. Your prose, like the barrage of a world class boxer, will be unrelenting.

Beat down that passive voice. Punch hard. Write harder.

Part 2: Writing Honestly coming next week! So bookmark, share, and tweet!
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