On writing well

The best writing is rewriting. Every sentence should earn its place on the page.

I've been thinking a lot about what makes writing effective. Not just grammatically correct or aesthetically pleasing, but genuinely useful to the reader.

Clarity over cleverness

The temptation to sound smart is the enemy of clear communication. When I catch myself reaching for a complicated word, I try to stop and ask: what am I really trying to say?

Most of the time, the simple word is better. "Use" instead of "utilize." "Help" instead of "facilitate." "Now" instead of "at this point in time."

The editing process

First drafts are supposed to be terrible. The magic happens in revision. I try to approach my own writing as if I were an impatient reader—someone who will leave at the first sign of confusion or boredom.

This means cutting ruthlessly. If a paragraph doesn't advance the argument, it goes. If a sentence is doing work that another sentence already did, one of them has to die.

Reading your work aloud

This simple practice catches problems that the eye misses. Awkward rhythms, accidental tongue-twisters, sentences that run too long—they all reveal themselves when spoken.

The goal is writing that flows naturally, that the reader can absorb without friction.