What has that chunky-headed fish got to do with the art of good writing? There’s only one way to find out…
This fish (or one very much like it) appeared in David Attenborough’s TV series Blue Planet II. Now, I’d be quite happy to hear David Attenborough talking about the properties of drying paint. His tone of voice is at once soothing and authoritative – you know you’re in safe hands.
As with the narration, the rest of the programme exuded professionalism and skill at the highest level. Stunning camerawork, fascinating facts, glorious geography, wondrous wildlife and soaring, evocative music (still not sure how they got a full orchestra to play underwater…).
It was fabulous. Well, 99% fabulous.
All was going swimmingly (pun intended), when I began to realise I was the teensiest bit bored. Sir David had temporarily stopped enthralling us with details of fishy mating rituals, although the string section was still going. But here’s the thing: for how long can you watch a slightly dull fish on the pull, with no commentary, and remain interested?
Answer: not very long at all.
When the rest of the editing was so seamless, that little bit of over-lingering camerawork stood out.
What this brought home to me is how we take for granted the level of skill that goes into making anything work well. A TV programme, your car, the central heating, your favourite band… When everything happens the way you expect, you don’t stop to think how it got to be that way. You don’t consider the learning, practice, creativity, skill and experience that bring those things to the point where you, the consumer, can use or enjoy them. Until something isn’t quite right.
It’s the same with writing. Any writing.
Nobody notices good writing
Your favourite fiction books make you turn the pages just because the words keep you hooked. You want to know if Jim gets the girl, or Sally and the mysterious stranger fall off the cliff, or what happened to make Mrs Singh so scared of flowery curtains.
You’re drawn in from the first sentence, and you inhabit the world of Jim, Sally or Mrs Singh quite contentedly… unless something jars.
Perhaps you are suddenly confused about who said what in a long piece of dialogue. Maybe a character uses words that don’t sound like her usual vocabulary. Or there’s a sudden jump to a different viewpoint that you weren’t expecting.
Things like that can spoil the flow, as did a whole minute of watching a solitary bobbing fish in Blue Planet II.
When I say nobody notices good writing, I don’t mean it’s unappreciated. Just like BBC wildlife documentaries, you’ll know it’s good if you’re enjoying it. You want to keep on looking.
But as with anything that’s doing a great job, we only know it’s good because of the effect it has, not by thinking too hard about its components. Good writing keeps its intended audience reading. If it doesn’t, it has stopped working properly.
It will be just the same if you are writing for work, rather than producing the next fiction best-seller. Your business writing has a job to do, just like you. It has to reflect what you and your business are.
For example, if your words are crisp and efficient but informal, your clients won’t be saying, “Wow, I do like these crisp, efficient but informal words!” They’ll just be reading – getting drawn into your world until the words have done their job. They’ll feel in safe hands because the effect of the writing matches their expectations.
I don’t think I’ve ever quoted a Genesis song in a blog before, but hey, there’s a first time for everything… “If you’re walking home beside her, and the sun should turn to blue, and you keep on going ’cos you’re unaware, then you know that you are there.” (Beyond the Silver Rainbow)
So next time you fail to notice how good a piece of writing is, pause for a minute. Ask yourself what the writer or editor did to make it so unnoticeable. Consider what it took to get you to the end without thinking too much about individual words or structure.
And the moral for writers is: there’s always the potential for a ‘dull fish’ moment. Be on your guard!
Pernickety Kate likes nothing better than getting to grips with the nitty gritty of written language. If you’d like a fresh pair of eyes on your writing, please get in touch today!