One of underestimated tasks in nonfiction writing is to impose narrative shape on an unwieldy mass of material.

I try to make what I have written tighter, stronger and more precise, eliminating every element that's not doing useful work. Then I go over it once more, reading it aloud, and am always amazed at how much clutter can still be cut.

Noise is the typographical error and the poorly designed page...Ambiguity is noise. Redundancy is noise. Misuse of words is noise. Vagueness is noise. Jargon is noise.

The sound of the bat is the music of spring training.

Not every oak has to be gnarled, every detective hard-bitten. The adjective that exists solely as a decoration is a self-indulgence for the writer and an obstacle for the reader.

Decide what you want to do. Then decide to do it. Then do it.

All writing is ultimately a question of solving a problem.