Get Elmore

The sun is shining brightly as I sit down tiredly at my orange desk. Little wisps of white clouds pockmark the blue sky. According to my Yahoo weather app, Columbia will be overcast and in the 80s. My desk has some Bauhaus influence—you can see how it’s put together and what keeps it standing. A dictionary, an AP style guide and Erica Grieder’s “Big, Hot, Cheap, and Right: What America Can Learn From the Strange Genius of Texas” rest collectively behind my laptop screen. Lawrence Wright’s “The Looming Tower,” an awesome tome written sparingly, rests assertively on my nightstand. I can’t put it down! Other books rest pensively on my book shelf, waiting to be read. “Read me!” they plead. “I can’t right now y’all!” I confide. My bed—well, let’s just say it ain’t made and I ain’t fixin’ to do so. Suddenly, all hell broke loose. I just remembered that I had to write a blog post for Advanced Reporting! Timidly, I searched for a topic. I was barely half awake at this point. I was wearing a white Mizzou shirt and lime-green athletic shorts, which, rather embarrassingly, were hand-me-downs from my 6-6 younger brother. I am, if y’all haven’t guessed, not 6-6; with shoes on I’m probably 5-10, and not even a lean or mean 5-10. I have brown hair and blue eyes, and my nose might be a tad big. Anyway, enuff yabberin’, all this is prologue to what I wanted to write about: Elmore Leonard’s 10 rules of writing (you can find his explanations for them at the link).

1. Never start with the weather

2. Avoid prologues

3. Only use “said” for dialogue

4. Don’t use adverbs

5. Avoid exclamation marks

6. Never use “suddenly” or “all hell broke loose”

7. Avoid patois, such as y’all

8. Don’t over-describe people

9. Don’t over-describe places or things

10. Don’t write in large, block paragraphs

I would add another rule (from, yes, “This Is Spinal Tap”):

11. There’s a fine line between clever and stupid.

J4450: Endings

Endings.

Writing endings is one of the hardest things to do. When done correctly, they perfectly wrap up a story and leave readers feeling satisfied. When done incorrectly, they come off as sappy and leave readers with an incomplete feeling. Also, they can be nonexistent (which is the worst).

I have some experience with this last one. I wrote a story earlier this semester that won’t be published until Monday, but the important part about it for this post is the ending. Well, there really isn’t one. It just kind of peters out. I mean, it’s a good story (if I do say so myself), but a good ending wouldn’t have hurt.

To achieve that good ending, a lot of strategery must go into it. Planning is a must so it doesn’t come off as sappy or cliche. One of the best examples was Seth Davis’ recent profile on Indiana Hoosier Cody Zeller for Sports Illustrated.

The profile starts out with Zeller’s nickname (Big Simple) and how he got it (he’s a fundamentally sound basketball player — he keeps things simple). The profile ends, you guessed it, with Zeller’s nickname (“Keep it simple, Big Simple”). Nice.

One of the nicest endings I’ve ever read was from the book Get Shorty by Elmore Leonard. I don’t remember it exactly, but I’ll do my best. The main character, Chili Palmer, a member of the mob, goes to Hollywood to do some business and write a script.

Dark comedy ensues. At the end, Chili is having a conversation with the his producer about the script and says something to the effect of “Who knew this ending thing was so hard?” or “How the hell are you supposed to end it?” Clever, Elmore, clever.

The line perfectly wraps up the plot of the novel while also ending the novel itself on a high note. That’s what great endings can do — leave a reader satisfied with your work.

The end.