How to unfuck your writing
You’re probably sick of the same stale writing advice.
If so, I’ve got good and bad news for ya.
The Bad News
Always start with the bad news.
The internet is infested with writing “gurus” who prey on new writers by selling the same recycled courses that promise a precise, creative, and profitable pen but leave you confused, overwhelmed, and broke.
The best courses might teach you how to write clickbaity headlines, build sketchy marketing funnels, and use ChatGPT to “10x your productivity,” but none of them will help you become a better writer
These courses aren’t writing courses. They are marketing courses for writers, which might help you get a little more attention but will not help you keep it.
The Good News
Despite most “writing” courses being a waste of money, there is a wealth of free writing advice that’s a lot better than 99% of the paid stuff out there. That’s because good writing advice doesn’t sell.
If you want to be a good writer, you have to write until your joints ache, your hair turns to ash, and your grandkids have grandkids.
That, my friend, is the best writing advice there is.
The second best is to learn from the greats whose wisdom lives in stories, letters, essays, journal entries, and notes they left behind.
So, if you want to craft better sentences, study the best writers. And every aspiring writer should study George Orwell, the mind behind 1984, Animal Farm, and the famous essay “Politics and the English Language.”
Politics and the English Language
In “Politics and the English Language,” George Orwell, with surgical precision, diagnoses the sickness plaguing modern prose.
Orwell writes, “A man may take to drink because he feels himself to be a failure, and then fail all the more completely because he drinks. It is rather the same thing that is happening to the English language. It becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts.”
Lazy thinking breeds sloppy writing, and sloppy writing breeds lazy thinking . This is a vicious cycle that, if left unchecked, will continue until there’s nothing left to write — or think — about.
But Orwell also offers a way out.
“Modern English, especially written English, is full of bad habits which spread by imitation and which can be avoided if one is willing to take the necessary trouble.”
This is how Orwell suggests you sharpen your pen.
Or, in more colloquial terms, this is how you unfuck your writing.
Be Clear
Vagueness weakens your writing.
Confident prose is a byproduct of a precise pen and a clear mind.
“The writer either has a meaning and cannot express it, or he inadvertently says something else, or he is almost indifferent as to whether his words mean anything or not. This mixture of vagueness and sheer incompetence is the most marked characteristic of modern English prose.”
Good writing isn’t smart. It’s clear.
Be Creative
If your writing is creative but unclear, your writing is not creative.
“A newly invented metaphor assists thought by evoking a visual image, while on the other hand a metaphor which is technically ‘dead’ (e.g., iron resolution) has in effect reverted to being an ordinary word and can generally be used without loss of vividness. But in between these two classes there is a huge dump of worn-out metaphors which have lost all evocative power and are merely used because they save people the trouble of inventing phrases for themselves.”
Flex your creative muscles.
“By using stale metaphors, similes and idioms, you save much mental effort, at the cost of leaving your meaning vague, not only for your reader but for yourself.”
But don’t get carried away.
Clear first. Creative second.
Be Concise
Good writing is clear. Great writing is concise.
What’s wrong with the sentence below?
“The general consensus of opinion is that in the majority of instances, people tend to agree with the proposed idea.”
It’s fluff. It says a whole bunch of nothing.
Here’s a better version:
“Most people agree with the idea.”
In just six words, I said the same thing, and I kept your attention.
Don’t waste your reader’s time. As Orwell said, “If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.”
Kill your darlings.
Remember the 3 Cs: Clear. Creative. Concise.
And if that isn’t enough to turn you into a decent scribbler, Orwell wraps up his lecture with a handy checklist.
4 Questions Great Writers Ask Themselves
Orwell writes, “A scrupulous writer, in every sentence that he writes, will ask himself at least four questions…”
What am I trying to say?
What words will express it?
What image or idiom will make it clearer?
Is this image fresh enough to have an effect?
Figure out what you want to say and say it.
If writing is thinking on paper and clear writing is hard, then clear thinking is hard.
So, to clear things up, Orwell encourages writers to ask two more questions: “Could I put it more shortly? Have I said anything that is avoidably ugly?”
In a world where content — and advice — is mass-produced, Orwell reminds us good sentences aren’t written; they’re crafted.
Use this advice to move your pen with purpose. It’ll clarify your thinking, sharpen your writing, and deepen your message.