simple writing

*Ice ‘pearls’ forming in Jackson Creek, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

I’m a writer and aside from putting out the odd novel and short story, I teach writing for a living.

I teach online courses and tutor students at various writing centres at the University of Toronto on scientific and scholarly writing. I coach fiction writers of novels and short stories to publication. I help writers all over the world achieve clear, accurate, and compelling narrative, whether it’s fiction or non-fiction. I do this by focussing on the clarity and direction of narrative. The key to good narrative and good storytelling—whether it is a historical fantasy or a scholarly essay—is simplicity. Ernest Hemmingway knew that. His writing emulated simple and became profound.

The best writing can take something complex and express it simply. Just as with valid scientific theory (recall Einstein’s ‘simple’ and elegant theory of relativity, E=mc²), effective communication embraces complexity through simple expression and resonates with accuracy and power. Embracing complexity through simplicity is achieved through metaphor, key images and symbols that encompass an entire culture or thought.

If I were to write, “Jack’s office was a prison cell,” you’d have a good idea of what Jack’s office was like. In five simple words the concept and its emotional associations are clearly conveyed. This is because we all have a clear idea of what a prison cell is like. Yours may not be the same imagined prison cell as mine, but the metaphor works as effectively. It’s that simple.

Lately, I’ve taken the lesson of simplicity into my life decisions.

*My car on a country road through a snow-covered forest, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

For the past ten years or so, I’ve become a bit of a nomad. After bringing up my family, I left my marriage nest in British Columbia, divested myself of virtually all my possessions (what I own fits in my car—a 1998 Jetta), and traveled across Canada from the west coast to the east coast and Nova Scotia. I lived in Lunenburg and Mahone Bay for several years, spent some time in Toronto, and am currently living in the Kawartha Region of Ontario. Before COVID-19, I travelled the world, through the United States, much of Europe, parts of Africa and Asia and Australia.

What I learned during my travels is that a person doesn’t need that much to live a full life. My health. A safe place to sleep. Food. Adventure for my curious mind. Purpose and meaning (something to live for): good people to love and share my adventures with and a way to feel that I am helping to make this a better world.

Living a simple life helps me find focus, meaning and joy.

In her article in YES! Magazine, Megan Sweas writes that “living simply can help us challenge society’s inequities, live in alignment with nature, and build community.” Sweas argues that a simple lifestyle is an ethical choice: “living simply so that others may simply live.” As the saying credited to Gandhi goes.

*Vietnamese Zen Buddhist teacher and author of more than 100 books, Thich Nhat Hanh celebrates 94th birthday (Contributed by Don Farber)*

Cultivating the Insight of Interbeing

Buddhist Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh coined the term “interbeing” to describe our interconnectedness. In a 2017 article entitled “The Insight of Interbeing,” Hanh described his experience:

“About thirty years ago I was looking for an English word to describe our deep interconnection with everything else. I liked the word “togetherness,” but I finally came up with the word interbeing. The verb “to be” can be misleading, because we cannot be by ourselves, alone. “To be” is always to “inter-be.” If we combine the prefix “inter” with the verb “to be,” we have a new verb, “inter-be.” To inter-be and the action of interbeing reflects reality more accurately. We inter-are with one another and with all life.
human bodies are ‘shared, rented, and occupied’ by countless other tiny organisms, without whom we couldn’t ‘move a muscle, drum a finger, or think a thought.’ Our body is a community, and the trillions of non-human cells in our body are even more numerous than the human cells. Without them, we could not be here in this moment. Without them, we wouldn’t be able to think, to feel, or to speak. There are, he says, no solitary beings. The whole planet is one giant, living, breathing cell, with all its working parts linked in symbiosis.”
Thich Nhat Hanh

Hanh drew the analogy of a piece of paper to make his point about interbeing:

“If you are a poet, you will see clearly that there is a cloud floating in this sheet of paper. Without a cloud, there will be no rain; without rain, the trees cannot grow; and without trees, we cannot make paper. The cloud is essential for the paper to exist. If the cloud is not here, the sheet of paper cannot be here either. So we can say that the cloud and the paper inter-are…If we look into this sheet of paper even more deeply, we can see the sunshine in it. If the sunshine is not there, the forest cannot grow. In fact, nothing can grow. Even we cannot grow without sunshine. And so, we know that the sunshine is also in this sheet of paper. The paper and the sunshine inter-are. And if we continue to look, we can see the logger who cut the tree and brought it to the mill to be transformed into paper. And we see the wheat. We know the logger cannot exist without his daily bread, and therefore the wheat that became his bread is also in this sheet of paper. And the logger’s father and mother are in it too.”
Thich Nhat Hanh

We inter-are. “Everything relies on everything else in the cosmos in order to manifest—whether a star, a cloud, a flower, a tree, or you and me,” said Hanh.

Hanh argued that this all starts with mindfulness. Mindfulness is rooted in Buddhist meditation. Practicing mindfulness helps us live a fuller and happier life; we become fully focused on the present moment, not absorbed in regrets, plans, worries or other thoughts. When we practice mindfulness we create more stillness which allows us to see more clearly what brings us happiness and what causes suffering. With this awareness, we can make positive choices in everyday life.

Those who practice mindfulness and contemplate interbeing seek “to protect life, practice generosity, love responsibly, speak lovingly, and listen deeply, as well as consume in a way that preserves peace, joy, and wellbeing in oneself, others, and the Earth,” said Hanh. He added that “understanding how their own consumption—of a burger, a glass of wine, Facebook, or gossip—causes harm is what spurs them to give up such ‘toxins’ and consume less.”

To live more simply is to live more lightly on this beautiful planet. And that’s a story worth reading…

*The creek’s thalweg reveals itself as the creek ice melts, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press(Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

Spalted log (photo by Nina Munteanu)

One of the best ways to have less clutter in your writing is to simplify it. This doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to be a Spartan and write sparingly like Hemingway. You can use rich language like Jacqueline Carey but apply that language with purpose. While Jacqueline Carey’s Kushiel’s Dart contains rich narrative description, the language is appropriate for the time period and always portrays motion. But you wouldn’t use that “voice” and narrative style in a contemporary thriller, say.

Fluid writing lies at the basis of uncluttered prose. The seven suggestions below will help.

Reduce Extraneous Words

When constructing a scene, it is wise to pay attention to cadence, rhythm, number of phrases or clauses and general length of sentences. Sentences in early works tend to be full of extra words (e.g., using “ing” verbs, add-ons like “he started to think” instead of simply “he thought”) that slow down narrative. Try reading your sentences out loud; this practice often helps you to find the “clutter”.

Use Active & Powerful Verbs

Active verbs are the key to vivid writing; and, ironically, to uncluttered prose. The very choice of active verbs helps you minimize the use of clutter-words. Consider, these two example paragraphs, which describe the same scene.

Example A: Joe walked slowly into the room. His lip curled in disgust as he looked around the room. There were empty beer bottles all over the filthy floor that was covered with stains and garbage and there was a naked couple in the bed. They were almost buried under the rumpled covers. They now struggled to get up and Joe saw the big man staring up at him angrily.

Example B: Joe sidled into the room, lip curling at the stench of empty beer bottles and garbage strewn on the stained floor. A naked couple struggled out from the rumple of clothes and blankets. The man reared up and glared at Joe.

Example A contained 68 words while Example B contained only 41 words. It is obvious which paragraph is more vivid.

Cut Down the Words in Your Paragraphs

Cut down your words by at least 20%. Be merciless; you won’t miss them, and you will add others later in your second round of edits. Find the most efficient way to say what you mean.

Reduce Redundancy

The introductory sentence of a narrative paragraph is often paraphrased unnecessarily in the very next sentence, as though the writer didn’t trust the reader to get it the first time. Say it once and say it right the first time.

Embrace Anglo Saxon over Latin Words

For every three syllable word of Latin origin there is a simple Anglo Saxon word. Consider these examples:

Latinate Anglo Saxon

assassinate kill

emotion feeling

diminutive small

consternation fear

juvenile young

originate begin

masticate chew

prevaricate lie

abbreviate shorten

perspire sweat

assuage soothe

emancipate free

diffident shy

Latinate words slow down narrative and often arise from supercilious luciferous logolepsy; if overused, such effulgent emanations may render your promulgations cumbersome and will likely exacerbate acataleptic obfuscation and promote embulalia.

The simpler Anglo Saxon term is often more visceral in both meaning and sound. Consider the first example: “kill” evokes a much more powerful and immediate response than “assassinate”. And how about those “f” words for sexual intercourse? Fornication has a whole other nuance than its Anglo Saxon four-letter cousin. I’m not advising that you avoid Latinisms altogether. Latinate words, when used judiciously—and sparingly—provide cadence, lyricism and points of interest in narrative. If you use them sparingly and purposefully, they provide color and texture to your narrative landscape. The key—as always—is achieving a balance.

I once suffered from luciferous logolepsy… and profusely overused Latinate syllogisms, particularly in my line of work as a scientist. When I saw the light, not only did my fiction benefit; but my consulting reports and technical papers were more joyfully read by my clients.

Balancing Show and Tell

Let the characters and scenes speak for themselves through action and dialogue, rather than using narration to explain what happens. Embracing this way of writing may be the single most effective way to reduce clutter and enhance the vividness of your writing at the same time. While “showing” may in fact add more words than simple “telling”, the way it is read (mostly in the form of action) makes up for the added words. Telling also has its place in narrative; for instance, when you wish to let the reader know about an event or action that you do not want to describe in vivid detail. Simple and succinct telling works effectively as transitional narrative, serving as a bridge for critical showing scenes.

Don’t Overload Your Metaphors

Some novice writers fall into the trap of using metaphor overload (some call it “purple prose”). Overuse of metaphor diverts the reader from the story with “clever” turn-of-phrase and distract them from the most important words in the writer’s toolkit—verbs. Here’s an example from one of my favourite shows, Farscape:

Example 1: John strode into the aft deck and caught Aeryn and Crais embracing. He stopped, heart slamming like the staccato percussion of a demon frag cannon on his wounded soul.

If you eliminate the simile here’s what you get:

Example 2: John strode into the aft deck and caught Aeryn and Crais embracing. He stopped, heart slamming.

Removal of the simile activates the verb and focuses the reader’s attention on John’s visceral reaction. Which version is more powerful? If the verb is powerful enough, you don’t need to pad it with metaphor. The verb “slamming” already provides what the metaphor suggests, making it redundant. If the writer has set everything up properly then the reader will provide the context. In the Farscape example, if the writer hasn’t already established a precedent for John’s reaction, she is missing more than appropriate metaphor.

Nina Munteanu is an ecologist and internationally published author of award-nominated speculative novels, short stories and non-fiction. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books.

Nina Munteanu Writing Coach

Embracing Simplicity as an Interbeing

Simplify Your Writing