Become a better writer in 2 simple steps

The young reporter walked into the office where his boss waited, like you wait when it takes a long time to be served at a restaurant.

"Sit down," the boss grumbled, pointing to a chair with his right index finger.

The reporter swallowed hard. The kind of swallow that hurts your Adam's apple. He sat down.

"You're probably wondering why you're here," the boss declared.

"I have no idea," the reporter stammered.

The editor sat back in his cheap, leather chair and raised his feet onto his chair, putting his legs at about a 12 percent angle to his hips, which is pretty steep. Maybe 9 percent would be more accurate.

"I wouldn't bring you in if it wasn't something important," the editor groused. "This isn't about things that can get you fired, it's just a few things that you need to know. They will make you a better writer."

The reporter felt relief, like when you get a letter from the Internal Revenue Service, but it's a contest entry, not an audit. Although the IRS doesn't run contests.

"That's good news," he whispered. "Really good."

The room got quiet. As quiet as a room gets when no one is speaking and you hear that weird noise that sounds like air moving around inside your head.

"It's about a writing style. You need to make some changes," the editor pronounced. "You do a good job on most thing, but you have two huge problems."

The reporter was concerned.

Libel? Spelling? Sloppiness? A tendency to end five consecutive sentences with a question mark? Something else?

"I don't want to be guilty of making the same mistakes over and over," the reporter disclosed. "What's wrong?"

The editor looked over his glasses at the reporter, which was tough because he had his glasses on his forehead. He had to slam his chin into his chest so hard that it bruised both.

"Your first problem is word choice," he growled. "There's nothing wrong with finding a good word and using it over and over and over."

The reporter sighed. Then he nodded his head, which is always confusing because when an author writes that someone nods their head, some readers aren't sure if that means side to side or up and down. But "nod" means up and down, while "shake" means side to side, despite the fact that it's possible to shake up and down.

"So what's wrong with my word choice?" he queried.

"It's mostly when you do interviews. You have a tendency to–"

"Interrupt people?" the reporter articulated.

"No. It's not that, it's that you often–"

"Don't let people finish their thoughts?" the reporter announced.

"No. Stop interrupting. The problem is more basic than that," the editor shouted.

In the newsroom, people stopped working. Like a strike, but without the passion.

"I think the kid reporter is getting set straight," a veteran reporter harrumped to his co-workers.

"I hope not," squeaked a sensitive reporter, who squinted her eyes because she was sensitive to light, too. Even though the light was as weak as wet tissue paper.

"Here's the problems," the editor explained. "You never use the word 'said.' You go out of your way to use other words, but you never use 'said.' You should always use 'said.' "

"I understand that," quipped the reporter, in a way that reminded everyone of springtime in Paris, although they didn't know why. "What's the other problem?"

"You over-describe things that readers don't care about, sometimes using ridiculous similes."

"I understand," agreed the reporter, nodding his head up and down, like a man watching a yo-yo competition. "I'll work on it."

Everyone asserted that those were good ideas.

Brad Stanhope is a former Daily Republic editor. Reach him at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.