“On Reading On Writing Well”

                I live in the world of fiction and I don’t ever apologize about finding fiction truer than non-fiction.  Truly, I have never seen the human condition as adequately detailed in a memoir as I have in A Light in August or The Awakening.  But this book by William Zinsser has me wondering if William Faulkner and Kate Chopin pulled back the curtain for me to see such beautiful and disgusting truth because they understood and applied many of Zinsser’s rules for writing non-fiction to their works.  I read The Awakening for the first time during a summer in the Swiss Alps and, after five minutes of reading Chopin’s book, the mountains disappeared from my porch view.  I heard crickets.  I felt  mosquitoes nibbling around my neck.  I was in south Louisiana.  Zinsser dedicates Chapter 13 to writing about a place.  My favorite advice of his is “[I]f a phrase comes to you easily, look at it with deep suspicion; it’s probably one of the countless clichés that have woven their way so tightly into the fabric of travel writing that you have to make a special effort not to use them” (118).  Too many towns tend to be “nestled” and villages are too often “quaint.”  Have we ever seen an unnestled town in the hills?  There are neither quaint villages nor nestled towns in The Awakening, but Grand Isle, the beach village where Edna learns to swim and, hence, gain her independence is “delicious.”  Chopin uses “delicious” many times and because of that I often perceive independence and locations that foster independence as “delicious” too.  “Find details that are significant,” explains Zinsser.  I believe Chopin did and now I think I better understand why I so love her book.  She knows how to write about place.

                I would suggest placing On Writing Well next to your bed, under the novel you’re currently reading.   It serves me best when it is a 15 minute nightly read.  One topic to adequately digest is perfect for me.  Too much more and it becomes a textbook  read.  My all time favorite section?  Page 119 when Zinsser offers us two haunting paragraphs about place, specifically Banyan Street, written by Joan Didion.  After reading it, I realize I could never write with her fearless confidence with the written word.   Magic.  Delicious magic.