Writing Fundamentals: Know Thyself; Know Thine Audience
This week’s topic is style, the elusive face of writing.
In this post:
Is there such a thing as the correct style?
Unique perspectives
To whom am I writing?
Sound good?
Consistency, consistency… something else
Is there such a thing as the correct style?
Well, first, let’s look at what style is. A style’s traits are derived from the particulars of its author and the work it inhabits. Style is the author’s voice, the mood of the work and the way certain words are stitched together to form a cohesive idea. It’s the piece’s rhythm and cadence and character.
The short answer to the question above is no; there is no correct style. Because writing is an art, or often employed artistically, style is subjective. Mostly.
The longer answer is that there are techniques to the craft which may be more effective for certain situations than others.
Take Michelangelo’s David and Rodin’s, The Thinker, for instance. They share similarities like the theme of contemplation, a strong attention to anatomy and the towering height of their subjects. That said, despite their similarities (and that one took inspiration from the other), they are as distinct as their originators, especially when you look at materials and technique. Comparisons can be made , but when arguing the effectiveness of each piece, it’s important to remember that both works were made in different times and circumstances. They both meant something different to their creators and their audiences.
Writing styles can be similarly critiqued and compared, but what really matters is whom you’re addressing and why. This is where we can truly hone our craft.
Unique perspectives
Your writing today is almost certainly different from your writing five, ten or fifteen years ago. It is a reflection of not only everything you have experienced and consumed to date, but also your perspective on those things. And perspective is what style really is. Both will shift countless times over the course of your life and neither will be exactly the same as someone else’s.
In addition to that, writing can and should differ depending on the genre, medium, audience and overall goals of the work. You wouldn’t write a detective novel the same way you’d write a thesis on Agatha Christie’s works, for instance, despite the similarity in subject matter (though you could sprinkle a few select elements from the former into the latter just for fun). Publishers also typically look for a specific voice or feel in the manuscripts they select. Self-publishing usually offers more flexibility, though you usually still have your own goals to meet. And if there is any one goal worth pursuing as an author, it is to merge your voice and intended meaning with the needs of your audience.
Remember that the individual members of your audiences are unique and have their own unique tastes too. And while variety is the spice of life, it does pose a conundrum for authors: how do you write for your whole audience?
To whom am I writing?
Considering the problem we’re faced with, you might naturally wonder who should be the focus of your efforts. Maybe you should write for yourself? If you are writing just for amusement, or as a general exercise, go for it! But if the intent is to publish or otherwise distribute your writing, you’ll want to make sure that it fits your audience as well. Your writing belongs to you as the author, but as soon as it’s in your audience’s hands, a part of it—their perspective on it—will belong to them too.
To combat the fear (and reality) of never being able to satisfy everyone, an author can gird themselves by making peace with the idea that their writing will be different things to different people. Even if you were to hand deliver your book to each of your readers and hover over them to make sure they’re reading and understanding it correctly, they will still have their own private thoughts and opinions.
So who is this mysterious person you’re writing for? Simple: no one. At least, no one so specific that you sweat every little detail worrying about whether or not they’re judging you (they are, but it’s okay). The idea that your audience will walk away with different interpretations of your work can be freeing if you let it. You can serve them as your authentic self. For instance, try writing your first draft for yourself, and once you have it all out, tailor your next drafts to your audience. As long as you know the big, important traits that they share (e.g., profession, reading level, seriousness), you can suit their needs.
After that you can fine tune and explore the facets of language that will help you reach your audience. Can you inject a little humour to lighten the mood? Is your subject complex and does it benefit from a simple, almost transparent style?
A couple of general rules:
The more complex your language, the more you risk alienating your readers and muddling the meaning.
Sensitivity, or, more accurately, a lack thereof, puts unnecessary obstacles in front of your potential audience.
Sound good?
The other big element to your style is how it sounds. An effective style sounds good in our heads and out loud.
So don’t be shy: read your work aloud (or better yet, get someone else to read it to you). Like someone who eventually goes nose blind to the meal they’re cooking, we often can’t see our own style when we’re so close to it for so long. Switching to an auditory output helps make the words new again.
In the happiest of times, your work will immediately sound like poetry and you’ll pat yourself on the back for being so naturally brilliant. But most often, it’s going to need a little more work before it gets there. There might be parts where you trip up, areas that just seem confusing or places where you can cut back. These need special attention since your readers will be at a bigger disadvantage seeing the writing for the first time. If so, you can try to fix what you want as you go, but giving yourself some distance from your writing can help sharpen your nose again.
Consistency, consistency… something else
Something that can be neglected about style is that once you make certain choices, you should stick to them. It would be jarring to go from third person perspective to another, of course, but even for less obvious things, you should take care to be consistent.
What this means is, if you’re writing an article on playing the trombone and you decide you want to use a little humour, make sure the jokes are distributed throughout the piece. If you go back and realize the second half of your draft is deadly serious, most readers are going to notice. And noticing style is what pulls readers out of your writing.
Of course, your readers may appreciate your style, but it’s not likely to throw off their reading experience. Noticing the style usually means something is either inconsistent, or even too consistent.
Let’s say you have a particular word—’ghastly,’ for example—and you’ve been dying to use it in your writing. If ‘ghastly’ appears once, or even twice in an entire novel, readers are not likely to pick up on it. But if ‘ghastly’ appears every chapter, or every few paragraphs, they’re likely to form an opinion of you as an author and your particular fondness for the word ‘ghastly,’ or worse yet, think that what is truly ghastly is your apparent lack of a thesaurus.
Note that exceptions can always be made. For instance, a report on periodontal diseases in preteens is likely to contain a high rate of the word ‘periodontal’ or ‘preteen.’ But the rate can still be considered, and we should strive to be aware of our stylistic predilections.
Like any art form, writing can be revised and encouraged into the form we want it to take, so don’t be too hard on yourself. You can always allow for the opportunity to surprise yourself and discover your style along the way. Michelangelo famously said that he was freeing his works from the marble rather than creating it. Perhaps all that’s needed is a little faith in your own perspective.
Mary Kehoe provides structural, stylistic and copy editing services for a variety of written works through her agency, Elixir Editorial. From time to time she dabbles in her own writing projects which tend toward the speculative genre.
She is a member of both Editors Canada and the Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading (CIEP), as well as a founding member and former chair of the Toronto Arts & Letters Club writing group. A longtime lover of the English language, Mary is passionate about supporting writers on the journey to inspire the world.