What Makes Good Writing? (Revisited Again)

Originally posted August 1, 2019 | Reflecting on a 2011 post

This reflection goes all the way back to January 26, 2011. And as I reread it now, I still think it’s mostly on the mark. Not long after writing that original post, I read Wired for Story by Lisa Cron, which added a new dimension to how I think about good writing, and more importantly, what makes a good book.

There's a distinction here worth teasing out. Good writing and a good story aren’t always the same thing. You can have a novel with prose so crisp it crackles, yet the story leaves you cold. Or vice versa, you can stumble into something that’s clunky and awkward on the sentence level but still keeps you up all night turning pages. (Think Dan Brown)

According to Lisa Cron, it’s the story that wins. And honestly? I’ve found that to be true, up to a point. If the writing is truly bad, it becomes a speed bump (or a brick wall). But if the story is strong enough, most readers will forgive the occasional rough edge.

Of course, it’s still a gift when someone can turn a phrase so deftly it makes you stop and say, “Wow.” Laini Taylor comes to mind. Daughter of Smoke and Bone had some truly stunning prose in the first half. (The second half was a different vibe, but that’s a conversation for another post.)

Then again, some of my favorite moments as a reader are the ones where I realize I haven’t noticed the writing at all, because I was so immersed in the experience. That’s always my goal, for the prose to disappear and the story to take over.

I’m not convinced anyone can be taught to be a great writer, but you can absolutely learn the craft of writing. That’s the lifeline you cling to when the muse is off vacationing somewhere in the south of France. (Mine tends to disappear without leaving a forwarding address.) If you want to write for more than a hobby, you can’t wait around for inspiration. You need tools, habits, and a healthy disregard for your own excuses.

A while back I downloaded a free copy of The Last of the Mohicans on my iPhone Kindle app. I’d read the whole series in my younger years and remembered it being awe-inspiring. And the characters and setting are still impressive, but oh, the prose. Heavy. Overwrought. Dense enough to qualify as a new building material. From a modern author’s perspective, it’s hard to get through.

It made me wonder, has writing ruined reading for me?

I fly jets for a living, and commercial flights aren’t relaxing anymore. I know what every strange noise means. I know what shouldn’t be happening. It’s hard not to overanalyze. Reading’s a bit like that now. I notice craft. I spot structural issues. If the writing’s only so-so, my tolerance isn’t what it used to be. My Did Not Finish rate is out of whack now.

Would Cooper get published today? Probably not, not in that form. He’d get the classic “your characters are vivid, your setting is immersive, but this just doesn’t align with our editorial vision.” Translation: “Love the vibes, hate the prose.” But was he a poor writer? No. Context matters. The classics broke ground in their day, even if they don’t meet today’s expectations for clarity, pacing, or accessibility.

Language evolves. So do readers.

Today’s readers are more educated and live in a faster-paced world. We want our stories digestible and engaging, and preferably without a thesaurus. Most of us can recognize good prose when we see it, and I deeply appreciate it when an author makes me feel a scene rather than just read it. But even that is subjective. Some readers prize grammar and structure. Others want smooth readability and cinematic storytelling.

So…what sells?

Should that be part of your equation as a writer?

Maybe. Maybe not.

In the end, you have to write for you. Trying to squeeze your square novel into the round hole of traditional publishing, or trends, or expectations, is a recipe for frustration. Write what you love. Write in your voice. And if you don’t know what that voice is yet, don’t worry. You’ll find it.

2025 Update: Still True, Maybe Truer

Revisiting this post six years later, I find myself nodding along. The core truth still holds, voice and story are what last. Craft matters, but voice connects. And connection is what most readers are chasing, whether they know it or not.

I’ve read (and written) more since then. My tolerance for clunky prose? Still low. But I’ve also softened a bit. I’ve come to appreciate sincerity over style in certain moments. Sometimes a rough gem is still a gem. Sometimes the polish scrubs the soul right out of the story.

If you’re a writer, keep going. If you’re a reader, thank you. And if you’re both, welcome to the club. We have strong opinions and coffee stains on everything.