
In Chapter 5 of *On Writing Well*, William Zinsser seems to present guidance that seems contradictory to itself. On one hand, he advises writers to focus on holding onto the reader’s attention and minimizing distractions, but then advises them to write for oneself, not for an audience. On a first reading, it can be confusing. How can one possibly write for oneself and yet care about holding onto the reader?
The key to it all is in knowing that to write for oneself doesn’t mean ignoring the reader altogether. It’s about putting your thoughts down and speaking in your voice, not working too hard to impress and try to fit a mold. Zinsser advises writers to have confidence in your individual voice; yet, no one wants to trudge through muddled, unengaging prose full of fluff. Ultimately, at its heart, writing is about communicating, and if your readers can’t make a connection with your words, then for what?
Other writers have shared similar feelings, too. In *On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft*, Stephen King advises one to write the first draft for oneself alone—venting out your thoughts with no regard for feedback. Yet, when moving into your second draft, he advises it’s time to start thinking about your audience. That’s when you work out your work, make your thinking clear, and remove whatever doesn’t make it any better. George Orwell, in *Politics and the English Language*, addresses a similar point, stating that effective writing must not only be direct, but simple enough for one to understand.
So, how can one follow Zinsser’s advice? First, start out and write freely in the beginning—fight off the temptation to overanalyze, to sound too smart. Then, in revising, stop for a moment and stand off: Is it clear? Would my fellow human understand me? Am I getting through to my reader? That’s how you can preserve your voice and make your work accessible to them at the same time.
Writing, in the end, is a balancing act. You don’t want to sell out your personality in a quest for approval, but it’s important to remember that a human will be reading your work. The best writing feels effortless, a conversation with a fellow human being. If you can strike that perfect harmony—true to yourself and your reader—then your work will speak with both your voice and theirs.