From his post at the Poynter Institute for Media Studies in St. Petersburg, Florida, Roy Peter Clark has been teaching writing -- and writing about writing -- for more than three decades. Writing Tools: 55 Essential Strategies for Every Writer and Murder Your Darlings: And Other Gentle Writing Advice from Aristotle to Zinsser are among his nearly 20 classics on the craft of writing. In his new book Tell It Like It Is: A Guide to Clear and Honest Writing (Little Brown) Clark argues for the importance of “public writing” in an age of disinformation. He talks about writing, “civic clarity,” and more with John B. Valeri for The National Book Review.

Q: Tell It Like It Is takes its name from a song popularized by Aaron Neville. How does this serve as both an entry point and thematic element (or chorus, if you will) – and in what ways does referencing popular music exemplify the idea that messaging transcends print?

A: My writing desk at home is exactly six feet from a 100-year-old upright piano. Any direction I turn, I am working on a keyboard. There are countless connections between music and writing. Stories and songs are both compositions. They imagine an audience. They have a structure. They have a focus. They have a rhythm. They can tell a story.

As an old rock and roll piano player, I am attracted to the music out of New Orleans. Professor Longhair, Dr. John, and, of course, the Neville Brothers. Given the themes in my new book: candor, directness, taking responsibilities for what readers know and understand, the Aaron Neville song popped into my head. I played it on the piano. Then I listened to it on YouTube, making sure I got the lyrics right: “Tell it like it is, don’t be afraid to let your conscience be your guide.”

There it was, a direct statement about the value of direct statements. Many people have told me already that they like the title, that it is a message for our time, a time when too many people in power are telling it like it…isn’t.

Q: We’ve been living in times of great uncertainty and unrest – often inflamed by the media’s mixed messaging. How does the contemporary world climate serve as a touchpoint throughout your book? Tell us about a few of the current events (such as COVID-19) you reference as being illustrative of the problem.

A: This is the 20th book with my name on the cover, and the 7th in a row that I have done with Little, Brown as a publisher. All those books have focused on some aspect of writing, reading, grammar, language, journalism, and ethics. But Tell It Like It Is is the first book I have written with the urgency of a breaking news story.

To be honest, I had no interest in writing another writing book. I thought I had published everything I could say about the craft. But early in 2020, the pandemic hit hard, and, the world seemed to turn upside down. Suddenly, I was writing stories from quarantine. My new office was our dining room table. There was so much danger, so much suffering, so much confusion, so much uncertainty. I did what I usually do: pay close attention to the best public writers, to watch them work in the public interest, to study their work and the tools they were using. Over the next three years, we could add to the pandemic a number of other tumultuous problems and issues: the insurrection against the Capitol, climate emergencies, mass shootings, great social protests, inflation, the war in Ukraine, and, let’s bring this up to date, a banking crisis.

I knew we needed more good writing in the public interest, and I wanted to create a text that would support all public writers in their mission and purpose.

Q: Your target reader is the “public writer,” whether aspiring or accomplished. Please define what a public writer (or public writing) is. What are the standards such a scribe should strive for?

A: Over forty years of writing and teaching, most of my professional work has been with writers who identify themselves as journalists (reporters, editors, and those who teach them). They remain my brothers and sisters of the word. They are not enemies of the people, as corrupt figures have contended.  They are champions of community, democracy, literacy, and self-government. I live in Florida so I know they were first responders when Hurricane Ian hit us.

During the pandemic we have learned that journalists are necessary to help us figure things out, but they are not sufficient for the job. We need public writers from the worlds of science, economics, government, business, public policy, and many more. A sterling example is Siddhartha Mukherjee, the winner of a Pulitzer Prize for The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer. He does not work for The New York Times. He is “an assistant professor of medicine at Columbia University and a staff cancer physician at Columbia University Medical Center.” He is an oncologist writing about cancer and other aspects of biological science. He is not just writing for other cancer doctors; he’s writing for all of us. He is a public writer.

Since the Great Recession of 2008, many news organizations have shrunk in their resources; many journalists retired or were laid off. I argue that there is no such thing as a “former journalists.” The diaspora of those ex-reporters and editors include major players who now represent many of our key institutions, including schools, businesses, government agencies, non-profits, hospitals, airports, and many more. This book rejects the idea that these men and women of the word have gone to the “dark side.” It honors their continuing contribution to public understanding.

Q: To expand on that: One goal of public writing is “civic clarity.” How does writing simple differ from writing simplistic (or “dumbing things down”) – and what guidance would you offer to those who may have difficulty distinguishing between the two?

A: It’s not enough for public writers to find things out and check things out. They have an obligation to take responsibility for what readers know and understand. A bank fails in California. What is the best way to use plain language in the public interest? How do I help achieve a level of civic clarity in my writing to help worried citizens make reasonable decisions? How do I help minimize panic?

Those questions reflect some of the standards and practices of responsible public writing. But the higher goals of the craft can only be made manifest by a set of specific strategies. One of the most important was taught to be by my writing coach Donald Murray. How do I achieve clarity when the topic is so complex? “Use shorter words, shorter sentences, shorter paragraphs at the points of greatest complexity.”

Good reporters come to know too much, and that knowledge drives them to create paragraphs packed with jargon, information, and statistics. We call that “suitcase writing”: cram in all your stuff and sit on it until it closes. This book helps writers understand the importance of slowing down the information, giving readers the time to understand. The Brits call the period a “full stop.” Think of the period as a stop sign. If I want readers to move a little more slowly, I put a few more stop signs in the text.

Q: You make the argument that some writing demands that the writer not be (entirely) “neutral” but “engaged.” What is the distinction – and how can writers accomplish engagement in a responsible manner?

A: I don’t use the word “objectivity” anymore because it is so widely misunderstood. I prefer the word “neutral.” Journalists, for example, are often called to be neutral in their approach to certain stories. But just because they will want to be neutral about many things does not require them to be neutral about everything. There was no need, for example, for the reporters covering the January 6 insurrection to be neutral about the attack or about accusations that the presidential election was rigged.

Public writers are becoming more attached to the ethic of fact-checking, holding the claims of those in power up against the available evidence. There is a space between neutral reporting and advocacy, but it has been a space without a name. I am calling it “engaged.” I also invite every public writer and every news organization to identify in a transparent way their “distance from neutrality.” Where do they stand, as individuals and institutions?

Q: In addition to telling the reader what makes for clear and compelling writing, you also show this through a multitude of examples (taken from student journalists to Pulitzer Prize winners). Why is this combination of showing and telling often more impactful than showing or telling alone – and how should writers consider this when constructing their own stories?

A: When people ask me how I got so smart, I offer this answer: “I went to kindergarten. Twice.” This is true. I started school in New York City, but when we moved to Long Island, the brilliant educators there thought I needed another year in the minor leagues. It turns out, I was really good at Show and Tell. Or should I write Show AND Tell.

I love the idea that objects have stories hiding inside of them. The late New York Times reporter Jim Dwyer preached this lesson that he learned from an editor: “The bigger, the smaller.” After the terrorist attacks on 9/11, Dwyer wrote an astonishing series of stories, each one focused on a single object: a family photograph that fell atop the rubble, a window washer’s squeegee used to help folks escape from a stalled elevator, a Styrofoam cup in which one stranger gave water to another.

This is the lesson we inherited from the great work of semanticist S.I. Hayakawa: That language exists on a ladder. At the top are idea words, such as bravery, compassion, anxiety. Those are words we use to TELL. But at the bottom of the ladder are objects from the real world: a military medal, a pair of rosary beads, a 1956 Mickey Mantle baseball card.

When a writer only shows us the object, the reader wants to know what it means.

When a writer only tells us the concept, the reader wants a specific example from the real world.

Showing AND Telling.

Q: Tell us about the importance of storytelling. How can stories or anecdotes be used to enhance facts and figures that might otherwise come across as cold or calculating?

A: Public writers want to know how to make things interesting, so that readers will pay attention to things that may be boring or complex, but that readers really need to know. Stories are one way to accomplish that task. Stories are not about the transfer of information. They are about the expansion of our experience. Reports point you there. But stories put you there. Stories can show you a wife standing outside a hospital window, unable to enter the Covid ward where her husband is dying from the disease.

In miniature, the story appears in an anecdote, how the hurricane winds tore an old satellite dish on a neighbor’s house and sent it flying like a frisbee into my yard, landing about ten feet from where I was bent over trying to rescue our cat.

Reports include Who, What, Where, When, and Why.

Stories turn those into Characters, Scenes, Settings, Chronologies and Motives.

Scholar Brian Boyd argues that stories are essential to our survival, that they highlight the dangers and point us to the helpers.

Q: While the book is intended as a guide for writers, it can also be utilized as a resource for readers in respect to discerning truth from misinformation or propaganda. Please talk about this potential cross appeal and the benefits of having a savvy reading public.

A: I think it was Jefferson said he would rather have newspapers without government than government without newspapers -- but only if citizens were educated and engaged enough to read and understand them. One of the roles of public writers is to drive public education, from cradle to grave. Critical literacy is more crucial than ever in an era where bad players can spread disinformation and conspiracy theories using technologies that make it more difficult than ever to tell it like it is, and to understand what it really means.

John B. Valeri is a book critic, author, and host of the web series “Central Booking” who has written for CrimeReads, Criminal Element, Mystery Scene Magazine, The National Book Review, The New York Journal of Books, The Strand Magazine, and Suspense Magazine. His popular Examiner.com column, “Hartford Books Examiner,” ran from 2009 – 2016 and was praised by James Patterson as “a haven for finding great new books.” Visit him online and watch past episodes of “Central Booking” at JohnBValeri.com.