Meaty Words

Words, nomenclature, jargon, dialect...

These are all great ways to get the point across, but we have all popped thirty synonyms into a two-page essay often enough, to know that without an audience to read your beautiful regurgitation of the same thought, you might as well truncate the work and leave it as a working title for your next children's picture book.

I cut meat for money. I cut stories for fun. There is usually one outcome when cutting anything, there is going to be less than when you started. So the readership always decides how many multisyllabic iterations your work is allowed. For all fiction, the most complex words should be left out. Keep the language real, no matter what langauge its in.

Writing tip:
For nonfiction, keep it real, same as fiction.
Childrens books really do need to rhyme.
The literary essay needs only one thing to make it outside of a classroom environment, clarity. The original thoughts of college students need work, anyway. There's no reason to make them sound smart too.
Technical writing has nothing to do with content. But is your indentation clear?
Making decisions about what word might really work, is an attempt to isolate your thoughts. Just say it, then write it down, then give it to someone with the intention to connect. You read, you write, you connect.

Writer or Typist

Budding writers often avoid the paying gigs.
But writers will write, while typists will rule the internet. The only place writers gain their reputation is from behind the emptied pen, and the stained page. As typists, we must also find our place in the world.
Readers have  a variety of taste and appreciation for a melange of skills, attributes, current events, and cat vines. The diligent typists and youtubers must sew the reputation of others, if they are to be known at all.
The rockstars of data streaming and food blogging are the ones who make the digital journey what it is, for every would-be overnight historian and ten-minute chef.
When the manuscript is finally mothballed, for review in six months, writers must turn their hats 180° around, put on the green visor, maybe, because even famous poets have got to eat.