Okay, folks, I’ve got something different for you today. Not only is it an interview, but … the author interviewed herself! Our mutual friend, Sara J. Henry, asked me if I’d be willing to host Jodi Compton to help her promote her new book, “Thieves Get Rich, Saints Get Shot.” I said yes, of course! Except … since I haven’t read the book, that made it tricky to come up with good interview questions. No problem, they said. She’ll ask the questions herself!

So, without further ado, let’s give a big Punctuality Rules welcome to Jodi Compton!

Thieves Get Rich, Saints Get Shot: A Q&A with the author! … and, um, by the author….

Q. Who are you? Where is Deb?

A. My name is Jodi Compton. Deb and I have a friend in common, Sara J. Henry, the author of ‘Learning to Swim.’ Sara brokered this deal in which I’d do a guest post for Punctuality Rules. I’m the author of four crime novels, the latest of which, Thieves Get Rich, Saints Get Shot, came out on July 19.

Q. So which have you written about, a cop or a P.I.?

A. Neither. My protagonist is in her early 20s, a failed West Point cadet, and is drawn into troubles not of her making. In Hailey’s War, she protected a 19-year-old girl from a mobster, nearly dying at the hands of one of his men when she was tortured for information.

Q. Good times! So what happens next?

A. Well, Hailey goes back to Los Angeles and falls into a role as the lieutenant of a rising Latina gangster, Serena “Warchild” Delgadillo, who played a significant role in the first book. The fun — lawless and amoral though it is — comes to an abrupt halt when suddenly it’s all over the news that Hailey killed two people in San Francisco. It’s definitely her they’re describing, but she hasn’t been anywhere near northern California. So she and Warchild head north to get to the bottom of things.

Q. If I know crime fiction, there’s a fine-looking guy as well, right?

A. Two. Hailey has a long-unrequited attraction with her cousin CJ, who is tall and lanky and sexy and unfailing decent to women, but unavailable to her because of the American taboo about relationships between first cousins. That’s why Joel Kelleher appears on the scene. Hailey’s initially attracted to him because he superficially resembles CJ, but he develops into a full-fledged character in his own right. He’s a cop, too, which is problematic, since Hailey and Warchild are working the other side of that particular street.

The physical similarity between Joel and CJ plays a small but important role in the third Hailey Cain book that I’m revising right now: Hailey calls Joel by the wrong name at an intimate moment, and that effectually ends the evening. In the following days, Hailey has to ask herself: Is this man real to me, or just a kind of methadone for my CJ addiction? Do I have the right to ask him for a second chance? Do I want to?

Q. Wait — you just said you’re working on the third Hailey Cain book, but earlier you called yourself the author of four crime novels. The math doesn’t add up.

A. Okay, yes: the first two were about a Minneapolis missing-persons detective, Sarah Pribek. Those were 37th Hour and Sympathy Between Humans. They’re a little more traditional than the Hailey stories, meaning that they’re police procedurals. A lot of people ask me if I’m going to write about Sarah again. The unsatisfying answer is, I really don’t know.

Q. Hailey is very Angeleno. Is that where you’re from?

A. No, I grew up east of San Francisco. And Hailey grew up east of Vandenberg Air Force Base, more than an hour north of L.A. If you look at a map of California, and see the westernmost “heel” of the state, that’s about where she’s from. The choice of L.A. as Hailey’s chosen, adult “hometown” grew out of an unrequited crush I have on L.A. It’s such a big, warm, freewheeling, pan-cultural place and, I think, unfairly maligned by outsiders. I go down there as often as I can. Whether I’ll ever live there, well, I’m really not sure.

Q. That’s the second time you’ve said “I really don’t know” or “I’m really not sure.” Would you describe yourself as more wishy or washy?

A. What’s the difference again?

Q. Uh, it’s, uh … Well, that’s all the time we have! I hope readers have really enjoyed this. Thanks, Deb and Sara, for this opportunity.

“Those of us who have been writing
fiction for a long time know how easy it is
to get caught up in the act of writing,
in the characterizations, structure, descriptions,
dialog, polishing of language, and—that
most hair-rending of all issues—whether or not
it’s ever okay to use words ending in -ly.
We wrack our brains over this stuff.
We read intensely for hours on end, taking notes,
researching how the greats handled it.
We lie awake nights and weep…”

I’ve been reading since I was three (says my Mom), and writing for almost as long. I’ve got literally thousands of books on my bookshelves. I read about writing; I write about reading; and vice versa. I studied writing in college, and probably have too many books on writing since I should be, well, writing.

Yet, I’ve never read another book quite like Victoria Mixon‘s The Art and Craft of Fiction: A Practitioner’s Manual. It’s like a Master’s class in fiction, all assembled inside one, handy-dandy cover (either electronic or paper).

This is not a book about punctuation or grammar. It’s not about the “rules” of writing. It’s not about the writer’s mindset, thought-processes, habits, or intentions. It doesn’t tell you how to write or how to find the time to write … though it touches on each of these.

What it does do, is tell you what you need to put together a well-crafted story that will hook your reader and drag them along for however long a journey you choose to take. It’s masterful in every sense of the word–because it is full of tips, tricks, secrets, and devices that belong to a true master.

“The only reason I know
for writing fiction is to tell stories.
And the only reason I know for
telling stories is the same as that for
telling jokes: to get to the punchline. …
The basic act of fiction is the art of telling a story.
You can—and will—spend far more hours
and energy on the craft of writing fiction
than you do on creating the story itself, but
the reason for writing a story remains the same: to tell it.”

Even those of us who live and breathe the written word, who pass our time going from story to story, can’t always grasp what makes some fiction sing and some fiction fall flat. We can tell when it works (hopefully), or when it doesn’t, but we can’t always put our finger on exactly what makes a seemingly well-crafted novel fail. Or why one that isn’t particularly well-written works anyway. I can listen to Mozart and know that I’m hearing a master, but I can’t tell you exactly what makes his chamber music so much better than Salieri’s. I can’t always specify what makes one author so much better than another–just that I know in my gut that it IS better.

That’s fine for a reader, but if you’re a writer, knowing the whys and wherefores is important. You might be lucky enough to throw together a masterful meal on your first trip into the kitchen, but if you want to write seriously, you’re going to need to be able to do it again and again and again … so you need to know HOW.

Well, Victoria Mixon does, and she graciously shares it with us. She not only points out what makes good writing GOOD, but she tells you how to do it yourself.

Again, I don’t mean that this is a normal writing book with general, good advice. There are lots of those (and you should read those, too). And while she does cover some of the nitty-gritty stuff like punctuation, and describing the difference between general editing and line editing, those are not the most valuable parts of the book.

This book tells you WHY one plot line works and another one doesn’t. It tells you how to make your characters breathe on the page–and how to keep your reader turning them. She explains the importance of plotting but not overthinking. The importance of having fun with your first draft, like when you were a kid and your imagination was untrammelled. She also stresses the importance of letting your manuscripts cool off between your first draft and your first re-read.

This book won’t automatically make you a better writer. It’s not filled with “Write Better Now” schemes, or a bullet-point list of things to do to make it to the bestseller list. Writing, good writing, is WORK, and you’re always going to have to work at it. But this book will tell you what to strive for.

“Never listen to anybody
who tells you not to love or hate anything
about your chosen art.
Love your work. Love every little bit of it you can.
Love the paper and pen nibs and keyboard,
love the punctuation and vocabulary and syntax,
love the alliterations and etymology and patois and
Great Vowel Shift of the fifteenth through eighteenth
centuries. Hate what really burns you up.
Throw yourself, like Camille, across the
fainting couch of literary aspirations.”

Better still, this book doesn’t read like some dry textbook. (Hence the scattered quotes through this review.) It’s lively and fun and brimming with life. Metaphors show off their colors, instructions are witty, and it ultimately feels like getting advice from your best, smarter-than-you friend.

“And this is why fiction is not just a craft, it is art.
Because art is about discovering the unknowable.
It’s about diving into that river of reality and fishing up
what you find, turning it in the sun to make the light
refract off it and show not just what it looks like,
but what it resembles, what it’s not, what it could be,
what it might be, what, in fact—in the alternate
universe in which we all simultaneously live
without even knowing it—it really is.

(In the interests of full disclaimer-ship, I will mention that this was a free review copy, but that does not change the fact that it blew me away.)

Want a look inside? Click here. Or go straight to Amazon.com and order a copy. It’s also available as an ebook PDF from Victoria’s site.

You won’t regret it.

It’s hard to be a writer. You spend your day staring at a blank computer screen searching for the words to fill it. It doesn’t matter if you’re writing a novel, poetry, an article for a magazine, a webpage, advertising copy, white pages … all writing is a risk.

A risk, you ask? Unless you’re inciting a riotous overthrow of the government, how can it be risky? It’s just a matter of putting words on a page. What’s hard about that?

The hard part is that it’s YOUR words. Yours, and nobody else’s. Your thoughts. Your ideas. Your turn of phrase. Even if you are writing copy for someone else, or shaping your sentences to the requirements of a specific magazine or type of publication–or a speech for someone else–you’re opening yourself up to criticism from all and sundry who think they know better. Writing is both an act of faith and an act of self-confidence at the same time. Faith that you’ll be read and appreciated, and self-confidence that what you have to say is worth your reader’s time and effort.

So, really, what’s intimidating about that?

Hmm. It got quiet out there.

Anyone?

Why, Joanna! Thank heaven you’ve come!

If you read Joanna Young’s Confident Writing blog (and you should), you already know how supportive she can be. Her goal in life seems to be wanting to see everyone write as well as she does–not in a nit-picky, grammar-laden way–but as someone who throws herself into what she writes. Every post on her blog glows with enthusiasm and a sense of pure joy in writing and connecting to her readers.

It’s really no wonder that she now has a book.

199 Ways to Write with Confidence: Because our Words Count is a slim book, the kind that easily slips into your bag so you can take it everywhere. Small though it may be, it is jam-packed with tips and words of inspiration to help you write with the conviction your thoughts deserve.

It’s so easy–especially when we are bombarded by words and thoughts all day long–to try to write how you think you’re supposed to write, how you’re expected to write … instead of How You Actually Write. Your own voice can be lost so easily when you try to follow other people’s rules, or agonize over grammar and punctuation, rather than what you need to say.

Writing is unique in that it’s very personal and yet meant to be public at the same time, and nobody wants to be laughed at for doing the “wrong thing” … and that is stifling to creativity and deadly to productivity.

Joanna’s book promises 199 ways to be more confident, and while I didn’t count them, I can tell you there are a lot of great tips in here to help you say what you want to say. How to develop a credible writing style. How to cut words to save the planet. (Gotta love that one.) A 60-second guide to engage your reader. Stuff like that.

The book is divided into four sections: The essence of confident writing, Confident business writing, Writing on the web, and Motivation, creativity and the writing process. Some of her old blog posts are repeated more or less verbatim, but some have been tweaked to fit the book’s format, and all of them are golden.

If you do read Joanna’s blog (because you DO, right?), you might be wondering if it’s worth your while buying the book–haven’t you seen all this already? And, well, the answer is that yes, you have, but not all tightly packed in this nice, logical sequence that you can take with you and easily flip through when feeling scared or alone in front of your keyboard.

Every writer needs confidence.

Isn’t it nice to know there’s someone who can help you find it?

(And, thank you Joanna for the review copy you so kindly sent me–full disclosure, you know–but, honestly, having read your blog for a couple years now, how could I possibly have been disappointed?)

Title: Writer Mama: How to Raise a Writing Career Alongside Your Kids

Author: Christina Katz

Publisher: Writers Digest Books, 2009

I’ve had a copy of this book sitting next to my computer for months now because I wanted to write a review for you, but ironically, I’ve been too busy and too distracted to actually write it. It’s gotten to the point of ridiculousness, though, and if I don’t write this review now, I’m going to forget all the things I wanted to tell you, so, here goes.

You already know, I’m sure, that a lot of people (women especially) are trying to make a living by writing these days. It seems like such a simple thing to do–you can sit at home with your kids and, with minimal access to email and the telephone, can earn money to help support your family.

It’s not as simple as it sounds, though, and while there are a number of excellent books out there with advice on how to freelance, this one focuses on how to do so while raising your children.

Which means that, in between solid tips about how to write a cover letter, or finding an article topic, you get tips for finding the time to write (during naptime, or when your kids are playing). Advice on connecting with other writers so you won’t feel isolated. A discussion on the pros and cons of using childcare. You know, tips that a non-parent doesn’t necessarily need–and can’t find in those other books.

Now, my only child is of the four-legged, barking variety, so a lot of the mom-related advice in here doesn’t really apply to me. Dogs are a lot more self-sufficient than a human child, and you can’t go to jail if you have to leave them at home on their own for a few hours, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t find some good advice in this book.

The writing focus leans strongly on the “write articles for magazines” side, and the author goes into detail about cover letters, relationships with editors, and how to find ideas. All solid advice that I’ve also read other places. But other books don’t have the helpful, friendly asides to help the stay-at-home-mom adapt her lifestyle to not just being a mom, but to being a freelance writer mom.

Quibbles? Honestly, content-wise I can’t think of any. I’ve read some freelancing books that go into more detail on some specific topics, but this touches on all the important ones I can think of. I like the friendly tone, and the frequent sidebars have some of the most creative tips.

My biggest quibble is actually the physical format of the book. First, there’s the odd, almost-square size that makes it awkward to fit in a pile of other books. The spine juts out from its mates, but it’s too short to match the others in height, so it doesn’t play well with the others on my crowded, double-decker bookshelf.

And while I like the teal accents in the pages themselves and find the font easy to read, and all, there are no section headers on the page to tell you which chapter you’re in, making it hard to flip through, looking for a specific page. (Yes, there’s an index, but sometimes all you remember is that it “Was in the section on editorial guidelines” and need to browse.) But, hey, if the worst thing I can say about the book is that I didn’t like the shape and wanted better signposts?

Definitely a book worth looking into.

You may remember Quinn Cummings from when she was a child star, paired up with Richard Dreyfuss and Marsha Mason in Goodbye Girl, or starring on Family . But these days, I know her best from her blog, The QC Report, which is funny and insightful, and always entertaining. I mean, seriously, did you know that she can write? And write well? I love the way she turns a phrase, love her sense of humor (and writing humor can be just as hard as acting it, yet she nails it every time).

Well! The exciting news is that she has a new book out, Notes from the Underwire: Adventures from my Awkward and Lovely Life.

The more exciting news? It’s wonderful. My copy came on Tuesday and, well, I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much at a book. As in, I was chortling with my hands over my mouth while I read it in bed, so I wouldn’t wake up the rest of the house. As in, my parents were complaining about the noise. It’s funny, though I should warn you a couple chapters made me sniffle instead of giggle. The blurb on the back describes her as “Erma Bombeck with an Edge” and that fits, beautifully.

I’ll give you one quote: “…Consort, on the other side [of the bed] had a more subtle approach. When we first moved in together, I offered him whichever side of the bed he wanted, and he chose. He swears he has never reconsidered his decision, but each night, once asleep, he longs for my side of the bed and he will achieve it, one patient inch at a time. Given eight hours, Consort will claim the entire bed to himself, leaving me a sliver of territory down by the footboard, at which point Lulabelle [the cat] will leap nimbly onto the bed and start inflating to the size and density of a keg of beer. Between Consort, the kid, and the cat, I was a modest nation with no natural borders staving off constant sorties from aggressive superpowers. I had become Poland.”

I can’t remember ever hearing the battle for bed space being compared to invasions by superpowers before, but that’s where the genius lies.

The even BETTER news? Quinn … I like to call her Quinn because we’re such close friends … (cough) okay, we’re not really, but I’m always excited when an author stops by. It makes me giddy. Anyway, she’s doing a blog tour and deigned to stop by here at Punctuality Rules to answer some questions.

So, welcome Quinn! And, here we go:

There’s the trite cliche of, “What made you decide to become a writer?” (Shudder)

It’s a personality quirk. When I’m in the middle of something weird or unpleasant, I get very happy because now I’ve got an anecdote. If I were social and gregarious, I’d just tell a few hundred friends and get the same sensation, but since I’m weird and solitary, I have to write the anecdote down instead. In short, I never decided to become a writer. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just a very long phase.

Or I could ask something really obscure like, “What was it like to be on Remington Steele and roller skate in a long, velvet skirt?” (Can’t help that one–it’s actually one of my all-time favorite episodes from one of my all-time favorite shows, and, well, Pierce Brosnan… are his eyes really that blue in person?)

He’s deathly handsome in person, he was lovely on the set, and I thank God I was a very good skater because that ramp I went down was mined with broken beer bottles and used condoms.

(Editor’s Note: Thank you. I’ve honestly wondered that for ages!)

How about, “Are you as entertaining in real life as you are in print?”

Thank you for thinking I’m entertaining. I think Consort would tell you I’m very funny, because he loves me. I, who am only fond of me, would note that I’m very moody and a little obsessive.

What’s your favorite kind of thing to write?

I wrote a couple of blogs where I translated a Latin textbook. Not surprisingly, they were kind of hard to do, but I thought they were funny. People prefer cat-stories, though.

(Editor’s Note: Wow, Latin translations? Really? Color me impressed.)

When you’re not chasing around after pets, family, or doing home repairs, what do you do to relax? Any hobbies?

Not exactly. I love crossword puzzles, podcasts about the economy and documentaries (Spent last night watching “Standard Operating Procedure,” the Errol Morris documentary about Abu Ghraib). I just outed myself as the dullest person on earth.

Is there anything about acting that you miss? Would you ever consider acting again? Doing a cameo?

I can’t imagine a circumstance under which that would happen but five years ago my imagination wouldn’t have concieved of Quinn with a book deal. So there you go. Imagination, zero. Life, one.

(Editor’s Note: Life is tricky that way.)

Favorite kinds of things to read? Books? Magazines? Funny? Serious? Fiction? Non-Fiction?

I’m pretty much non-fiction. Funny non-fiction, serious non-fiction, with great lashings of science.

Somebody already asked how often you’re recognized from Goodbye Girl or Family … are there ever times when you EXPECT to be recognized but aren’t?

Not really. It’s more like any time I am recognized, I think “Really? Still?” I keep figuring that’s got to be done by now.

(Editor’s Note: Of course, now there’s the new book and the book tour to revive interest… Which reminds me, I haven’t seen Goodbye Girl in ages…)

What’s your ideal way to spend a day?

Heretofore unread Sarah Vowell, David Sedaris and David Rackoff books at my side, a sunroom, an endless supply of iced tea, a child at a sleepover until midday when she comes home tired and inclined to read and hang out quietly and all three meals magically premade by someone who can actually cook.

What’s the most recent book you read that you loved? (So much easier than asking about a favorite book–and, theoretically, recent enough to be easy to remember.)

I say it’s all non-fiction for me, but I was given “Stories of a Marriage” by Andrew Sean Greer, which I found elegant and simple and damn impressive.

My dog would like to know what, if any, is your favorite dog breed, and how do you feel about Boykin Spaniels?

I just looked up Boykin Spaniels, because while I consider myself reasonably up to speed on spaniels, I had never seen a Boykin. I’m here to say they are my new favorite breed, being ever so handsome and noble.

(Editor’s Note: Boykin Spaniels ARE the best, but I’m widely considered to be biased.)

Are you enjoying the book-tour? Are the virtual hotels between blog spots comfy? Where might people find you physically signing books?

I actually am, although my typing injury is starting to awaken and look around. The virtual-hotels are quite comfortable, but they serve a very weak cup of virtual-tea. I am doing one reading tonight (July 11th) in Pasadena, California at Vroman’s Bookstore. Beyond that, nothing right now. But if that changes, the date will be noted at www.quinncummings.com

‘Consort,’ really? What were his parents thinking?
Consort is his nom de blog. It’s the official term for the non-royal husband of a queen and since I’m the least regal person I know, I thought it had, you know, irony. For the amount of people who have asked me where his family found the name, I think I confused irony with invisibility.

(Editor’s Note: I had suspected something like that…)

Summer camp obviously means a lot to you (or, your daughter, anyway). Did you go to camp yourself when you were a kid? Did you love it? Hate it?
It’s not summer camp specifically; it’s just that my kid really loves running around like a maniac in the summertime. Also, she likes watching me fill out camp applications. I never really went to camp, because by the time camp was an option, I was acting and the thought of spending an entire day inside, repeating the same lines over and over, sweating under hot lights, sounded much more fun than learning camp songs. It’s fair to say my kid and I are very different people.

I know that, in addition to writing, you also invented the Hip Hugger baby sling. Was your daughter really that heavy when she was a baby? Or you just needed wanted to share your brilliant idea with the world?
No, it was that I had Carpal Tunnel Syndrome while pregnant and while it politely goes away within hours of giving birth, it left me with some residual nerve damage which would be aggravated by the exact motion of holding a growing baby on my hip. I wanted something cute, I had a friend with design experience…nine months after we started designing it, we had The Hiphugger in our first store. We had planned to make me a couple, nothing more, but when I wore the first prototype to a store, women kept stopping me, asking me where I got it. We still sell a few here and there, but it’s not my first priority. But I am pleased to say that we designed a unique enough device that we have a patent.

Quinn, thank you so much for coming! This was FUN! Love the book … when’s the next one coming out?

I have a book called Civility: Manners, Morals, and the Etiquette of Democracy by Stephen L. Carter. It talks about the collapse of basic manners, how they have “become a casualty of our postmodern culture.” You already know that this is one of my favorite themes, and, in fact, I recommend this book quite a bit.

He opens the book with an analogy which has become a favorite of mine. About how, in the 19th century, people travelled in groups because only the very rich could afford to travel alone. He says,

“Well, of course: to travel so far together, packed shoulder to shoulder like chess pieces in their little box, everybody had to behave or the ride would become intolerable. Everyone followed the rules for the sake of their fellow passengers, and they did so, as one historian has noted, out of a spirit of self-denial and the self-sacrifice of one’s own comfort for another’s.”

There was, you understand, a sense of “we’re all in this together.” Everybody was crowded, everybody had to endure the same discomforts of travel, but everybody collectively gritted their teeth because that was the only way it was bearable, by working together to keep it as civilized as possible. He goes on to say,

“But nowadays we have automobiles, and we travel both long and short distances surrounded by metal and glass and the illusion that we are travelling alone. The illusion has seeped into every crevice of our public and private lives, persuading us that sacrifices are no longer necessary. If railroad passengers a century ago knew the journey would be impossible unless they considered the comfort of others more important than their own, our spreading illusion has taken us in the other direction. We care less and less about our fellow citizens, because we no longer see them as our fellow passengers. We see them as obstacles or competitors, or we may not see them at all.”

This is such a brilliant observation, don’t you think? How often have you walked down the street and seen other people listening to iPods, talking on cellphones, completely caught up in their own, private worlds? I often count myself lucky if they’re paying enough attention not to walk into me as they wander along. People go shopping in their pajamas; they think nothing of cutting in line. They meander across parking lots, never glancing over their shoulders to see if there’s a car coming. Because, of course, the world revolves around them. Not only are they not travelling with the rest of us, they’re riding a float in their own little parade, condescendingly waving to the crowd.

Not everyone does this, naturally. (I’m sure you don’t.) Most of the people I know have, at some time or another, shaken their heads when witnessing behaviors such as these, just because they’re not normal behaviors. In fact, many people do check for cars before stepping into a roadway, or thoughtfully hold doors for other people. It’s just the fact that these annoying, selfish behaviors seem to become more common all the time that’s so worrying.

Because, really, we ARE all travelling through this life together. Don’t we owe it to our fellow passengers to make the ride as easy as possible?

Dear Bloomsbury USA,

I’m just writing to tell you how disappointed I am in your copyediting and cover-design departments. I picked up a copy of your “How I Learned to Cook” by Kimberly Witherspoon and Peter Meehan at the bookstore the other day. The book itself looks interesting, though I haven’t had a chance to read it yet.

However, the title on the spine? The word “learned” is misspelled as L-E-A-N-R-E-D.

Now, the occasional typographical error can slip past the best editors on occasion. This is understood. But in the actual title of the book on the COVER?

So, so sad.

Yours,

Deb Boyken

Edited to add, in case you didn’t see the comment below, here’s the response I got:

Deb, you are right, it was a grievous error that we all regret. We have replaced every copy that any bookseller decided to return, and have corrected the mistake on future reprints.

To err is human….

Annik La Farge
Publishing Director, Bloomsbury USA

I doubt I’m the only person who has a collection of books on grammar and word usage, and I certainly hope I’m not the only one who reads them for pleasure. There are a huge number out there and, of course, some are better than others. Some are more accessible, some are more entertaining, some are dry, some are vivid . . . and then some are the kinds of tomes you prop under a two-year old so they can reach the kitchen table. Ultimately, though, the book I keep coming back to–and the only user’s guide I keep within finger’s reach at my desk–is The Elements of Style by William Strunk, Jr. and E.B. White.

It’s been a classic for so long. Literally generations have read through this book. It’s hard to mentally separate the authors’ names. In fact, the book is actually a 1959 revision by E.B. White of William Strunk’s 1918 original. It’s even been parodied, in 2007′s Spunk and Bite by Arthur Plotnik, and how often does a grammar book get that distinction?

I think that the reason this one is such a classic is because the writing is perfectly clear, the advice is solid, and it’s easy to find what you need. The Chicago Manual of Style, for example, is even more authoritative, but it’s huge and filled with almost too much detail. Lynne Truss’s Eat, Shoots, and Leaves and Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird are both wonderful books that are both informative and entertaining, but not quite so useful as reference books.

Now, Strunk and White (as it’s commonly called) is quite strict about some of its rules: don’t end sentences with a preposition, never start one with a conjunction, don’t split an infinitive. All rules (or suggestions) which common usage mostly lets slip these days. (How many non-writers do you know who even know what an infinitive is?) Its reputation is almost stodgy. A long list of rules and commands by two old, old men, you might think . . . and then you open it and start to read.

Now, it’s not a “readable” book in the same, conversational way of Truss and Lamotts’ books, but the quality of the writing is superb. E.B. White stresses simplicity in your writing, the importance of keeping your sentences crisp and active, and even in his explanations about when to use “lie” or “lay,” you can absolutely see the point. Who among us wouldn’t want to write as cleanly and vividly as E.B. White?

Then, of course, there’s the old adage that you need to know the rules to be able to break them. This should sound familiar because it seems to be one of my favorite themes. A writer can play with these rules, though, just as e.e. cummings played with capitalization, or Kent Haruf plays with quotation marks around his dialogue. It’s not that they did not know the rules, it’s that they chose to ignore them for effect. As Mr. Strunk and Mr. White say, “Style takes its final shape more from attitudes of mind than from principles of composition, for, as an elderly practitioner once remarked, ‘Writing is an act of faith, not a trick of grammar.’”

And that’s the point. Strunk and White is possibly the very best place you can learn the rules.