Writers often argue about rules. “Do this.” “Do that.” “Never do this.” “Always do that.” “If you do this …” “If you do that …”

How Can You Decide What’s Valid?

Douglas MacArthur said, “Rules are mostly made to be broken and are too often for the lazy to hide behind.” MacArthur’s statement doesn’t flatter grammar fanatics. Are they truly lazy? obsessive? or maybe inflexible?

Read what follows, and then make your own decision. I’ve mentioned some of these rules in previous posts, but they deserve reexamination.

See also The Master List of So-called “Rules” for Writers.

Rule 1: Never Use Abstruse Words

Did abstruse make you pause?

The real rule is “Never use big words,” but big has more than one meaning, making it ambiguous. Big could refer to a long word such as supercalifragilisticexpialidocious or an academic word such as abstruse.

Abstruse: obscure, difficult to understand

Although abstruseness is often considered suitable for academicians, avoidance is preferable if you’re writing for the general public, children, or ESL students.

Do you need words such as the following? Know your audience. If necessary, review simpler options.

academician: egghead, Einstein, intellectual, professor

capricious: erratic, impulsive, quirky, unpredictable

contumelious (referring to behavior): abusive, derisive, rude, scornful

egregious: appalling, deplorable, dreadful, shocking

elucidate: clarify, clear up, explain, simplify

ennui: apathy, boredom, lethargy, tedium

erroneous: false, flawed, incorrect, wrong

flummox: baffle, bewilder, confuse, perplex

maudlin: emotional, mushy, syrupy, weepy

mellifluous: melodious, musical, sweet-sounding, tuneful

obtuse: dense, dopey, stupid, thick

penultimate: next to last, second last

polymath: genius, intellectual, prodigy, thinker

salient: important, main, notable, principal

substantiate: confirm, prove, show, uphold

ubiquitous: abundant, everywhere, inescapable, pervasive

umbrage: annoyance, displeasure, indignation, offense

vitriol: bitterness, contempt, disdain, hostility

Rule 2: Sentence Fragments Are Bad

What. Did. You. Say?

Did you understand the previous four words? They don’t confuse the brain, and they attract attention, especially in a separate paragraph.

However, phrasing like the following might confuse readers.

Ryder crept down the endless corridor. Tentacles probing walls and floor. Searching for anything that would dispel the darkness. A light activator. A discarded flash-probe. A laser-lance. A lightening of the gloom several spans ahead filled him with hope. Maybe he was nearing the end.

A better version might be:

Ryder crept down the endless corridor, tentacles probing walls and floor, searching for anything that would dispel the darkness — a light activator, a discarded flash-probe, a laser-lance. At last the gloom lightened several spans ahead, filling him with hope. Maybe he was nearing the end.

Both paragraphs contain the same number of words, but minor changes make the second one more coherent. Read your WIP out loud before deciding whether sentence fragments fit the situation and your writer’s voice.

Oh, is there any doubt that Ryder is an alien? Just a few non-abstruse words create a convincing world.

Rule 3: Never Start a Sentence With a Coordinating Conjunction

But why? Yet again I ask, but why?

Adding another layer of disregard for the rules, sentences that begin with coordinating conjunctions are also sentence fragments.

The seven coordinating conjunctions are:

For
And
Nor
But
Or
Yet
So

Need I say more? Or are you confused?

Mull over a few examples from well-known sources.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son …” ~ King James Bible [c. 1611]

“And let every other power know that this hemisphere intends to remain the master of its own house.” ~ John F. Kennedy [1917-1963]

“Nor can we call that ingratitude which is but the refusal to surrender to the merits of an individual the acquisitions of a nation.” ~ Edward Bulwer-Lytton [1803-1873]

“But if a man sitting still has not the power to remove himself, he is not at liberty.” ~ John Locke [1632-1704]

“Or else he would see a room in a rich house, where his friend lay asleep, dreaming and smiling at his dreams …” ~ Robert Louis Stevenson [1850-1894]

“Yet I love facts, and hate lubricity and people without perception.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson [1803-1882]

“So there’s another barrel of laughs from literature.” ~ Kurt Vonnegut [1922-2007]

These sources span several centuries, dispelling the myth that the tendency to break this rule is a misdemeanor of modern writers.

Yes, I disobeyed a couple of rules in this section. Slap my fingers and send me to my room. Please. I have a couple of good books there I’m dying to read.

Rule 4: Write Every Day

Wait. What? I’m not allowed to go to my best friend’s wedding?

Or stay in bed when I get the flu?

Or take a few days off to regroup?

Uh-uh. Nix this. Now.

Although some people swear by a strict daily writing routine, others say they dream up many of their best story ideas during a temporary hiatus.

During their break, they:

• take photos
• make videos
• save their dash-cam feed if they encounter an interesting event while driving
• record new ideas or potential changes to their WIP by texting themselves or jotting down their thoughts on whatever paper they can find
• concentrate on the sights, smells, sounds, and other sensory stimuli around them

Try a break when you feel burnout approaching. You’ll return to your WIP with fresh eyes and refreshed attitude — both conducive to better writing.

Consider the words of a renowned writer, inventor, painter, sculptor, scientist, and mathematician: “Men of lofty genius when they are doing the least work are most active.” ~ Leonardo da Vinci

Rule 5: Only Use Said to Attribute Dialogue

“What?” Susan said. “I’m not allowed to use a more appropriate word such as ‘asked’ or ‘inquired’?”

“That’s right,” said Ward. “And you’re not supposed to use words like ‘answered’ or ‘replied’ either.”

“Why?” she said. “When I ask a question, ‘said’ doesn’t make sense. Nor does ‘said’ make sense when I reply to one.”

Do you get the point? Even members of the only-use-said camp occasionally use other words. The excerpt would read better as:

“What?” Susan asked. “I’m not allowed to use a more appropriate word such as ‘asked’ or ‘inquired’?”

“That’s right,” replied Ward. “And you’re not supposed to use words like ‘answered’ or ‘replied’ either.”

“Why? When I ask a question, ‘said’ doesn’t make sense. Nor does ‘said’ make sense when I reply to one.”

Note the omission of a dialogue tag in the third paragraph. With a back-and-forth such as this one where the speakers are obvious, it isn’t necessary.

Even Stephen King, who says, “The best form of dialogue attribution is said,” uses words such as asked, responded, replied, told, scolded, whispered, muttered, etc. (See On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, [2000], and UR, [2009].)

Rule 6: Never Use Semicolons

Maybe the best way to evaluate this rule is to examine a sample paragraph:

Warren stumbled into the room, with a basket containing bananas, apples, oranges, boxes of crayons, pastels, chalk, all atop a stack of towels, paper, and napkins.

Does the basket contain all those items? Unlikely. Addition of a few semicolons would clarify the author’s intent:

Warren stumbled into the room, with a basket containing bananas, apples, oranges; boxes of crayons, pastels, chalk; all atop a stack of towels, paper, and napkins.

Even better:

Warren stumbled into the room, with a basket containing bananas, apples, and oranges; several boxes of crayons, pastels, and chalk; all atop a stack of towels, paper, and napkins.

Note the semicolons separating groups of items that are themselves separated by commas. The addition of two ands clarifies further.

Even Kurt Vonnegut, who hated semicolons, included a semicolon in A Man Without a Country and then said, “And there, I’ve just used a semicolon, which at the outset I told you never to use. It is to make a point that I did it. The point is: Rules only take us so far, even good rules.”

“Do not use semicolons” was Vonnegut’s first rule. He called these tiny symbols “transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely nothing.” But he broke his own rule. I don’t recall his explanation for why he hated them. Perhaps because they look so much like commas that they often confuse readers.

My advice: Learn how to use semicolons properly — and then avoid them.

See also The Master List of So-called “Rules” for Writers.