You’re an author.

You are Death, Life — a Creator of Worlds — and you’ve probably a slew of ideas racing around your mind.

Plots, characters, outlines, and timelines are all thrilling parts of the writing process and may consume your waking hours, but here’s the thing.

Before captivating your readers with a well-told yarn, you must nail down the basics.

To call yourself a writer, you must write and write well.

The Tools of Your Trade

Mechanics (spelling, grammar, and punctuation) are the bricks and mortar of your enterprise. They are your paint, brushes, chisel, and hammer. Words are the foundation that holds your writing together. You use them to paint vivid pictures, carve out meaning, and build connections with your readers. Great stories crumble to the earth without a solid grasp of mechanics.

As writers, when expressing our art, words are all we have.

There is nothing else.

What you remember from your 9th-grade English class is insufficient. Language is a fluid construct and is constantly evolving. If writing matters to you, and if you want your writing to matter to others, you will continuously be honing your skills. Writers work on mechanics all their lives.

Imagine showing up for an oil painting class, and you brought charcoal to work with. Delving deeper into that analogy, imagine a writer seeking publication is akin to a painter who shows up for an advanced oil painting class and doesn’t know the difference between sgraffito and impasto, feathering, blending, or glazing. Yikes. You’ve shown up ill-prepared because you lack fundamentals, the basic techniques.

Mechanics Are Tedious — Learn to Love Mechanics

So you might say practicing and improving upon mechanics may seem less glamorous than worldbuilding and storytelling, and you might be compelled to eschew my advice, thinking Grammarly or some other wiz-bang AI tool will be the magic pill that corrects your mechanical issues for you.

I’m sorry, but you're mistaken.

There’s no such thing as a magic pill.

If life hasn’t taught you that yet, you heard it from me first.

Like all things, you’ve got to put in the work.

In his book Outliers: The Story of Success, Malcolm Gladwell says 10,000 hours are needed (at a minimum) to become proficient at a skill.

Fellow writers and publishing editors expect a writer to grasp basic mechanics. They’re the essential tools in your toolbox. Otherwise, you’re the oddball out at the party, and ultimately, this is what you’re here for. Take mechanics seriously. Others do.

So the question becomes: do you want them to take you seriously? If you do, read on. If not, stop here and reconsider why you want to be a writer. You’ve got to love this stuff. Why are you here if you’re not impassioned to define a word, spell it correctly, and use it accurately every time? Trust me, your time’s better spent doing something else. There’s little fame or fortune in this business.

What Does It Mean to Be Thrown Out of a Story

Poor mechanics are the first issues that throw a reader out of a story.

Okay, so what does that mean?

Being "thrown out of a story" means that something in the narrative disrupts the reader’s immersion, pulling them out of the world the author has created.

A jarring spelling, grammar, or punctuation error forces the reader to stop reading. If you think about it, it’s like you’re riding a train, and suddenly, the train stops.

Heck, what happened? What went wrong?

When fully engaged in reading, readers get lost in a story, picturing the scenes, feeling the emotions, and connecting with the characters. But when a mistake or inconsistency occurs, it forces the reader to stop and re-evaluate, breaking the flow of their experience.

If a sentence is awkwardly structured or a comma is misplaced, it can confuse meaning, forcing the reader to pause to figure it out. However brief, that pause is enough to snap them out of the story's rhythm. It’s like hitting a speed bump while driving; it disrupts the smooth ride and makes you suddenly aware of the road again.

Fiction aims to immerse readers in the world you’ve built. When anything feels off, it risks "throwing them out" of the narrative, making it harder to re-engage and follow along with the same level of emotional investment.

Your goal as a writer is to prevent someone from being thrown off your train.

Publishing Editors

First, publishing editors are always right.

Swallow your pride. Don’t argue. It’s their publication, not yours. Stop fighting the wind.

Second, remember the first rule.

Third, if you’ve somehow forgotten the first and second rules, remember that the principal job of an editor is to verify that work is mechanically sound. It should seem reasonable that they don’t want their readers to have an unenjoyable reading experience. Nobody will publish illegible garbage, and who has the time to clean it up for you? Nobody. Who wants to convince you to clean something up? Nobody. Right. You’re catching on. They want to make that train ride as pleasant as possible.

Now, if an editor does return your manuscript for mechanical changes (remember the rules), think of their attention as a badge of distinction. It’s easy to dismiss someone; it’s harder to work with them. The editor might see promise in your material, so they took the time to request a cleanup because they thought the work mattered. Wow! What an honor! You weren’t round-filed. You were treated (gasp) like a professional.

So return the favor — do it! Clean up your mechanics and resubmit it, and if that same editor returns it to you again, remember the rules. Just do it. They’ve taken an interest, so learn something from the experience.

Breaking the Rules

While mastering mechanics is essential, there’s a time and place for breaking the rules to create a unique voice or style. Many authors bend or abandon conventions like grammar, punctuation, and sentence structure to capture a more authentic voice or evoke a particular mood.

Think of stream-of-consciousness writing, where punctuation might be sparse or erratic, reflecting thought's fast, often disorganized nature. Authors like James Joyce and Virginia Woolf are famous for using this technique, crafting a flow that feels natural, chaotic, or intimate, depending on the narrative’s needs. By breaking away from strict mechanical rules, writers can create a raw, unfiltered experience that draws readers deeper into their world.

However, breaking the rules successfully requires intention and control. It’s not about ignoring the basics but understanding them well enough to manipulate them effectively. Breaking the rules of mechanics can enhance the story’s voice, whether through run-on sentences that mimic a character’s anxiety or fragments that create a punchy, rhythmic narrative. Authors like Cormac McCarthy, who famously avoided quotation marks, create a minimalist, stark atmosphere that complements the tone of his stories.

But be careful — it’s risky. The key is knowing when to break the rules for impact, allowing the mechanics (or lack thereof) to serve the story rather than detract from it. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and every writer, judge, and editor will have an opinion on breaking mechanical rules to capture voice.

But Style Isn’t License

Let me help you.

Stop thinking this way.

You’re not that good.

Intentionally breaking the rules of spelling, grammar, and punctuation can create a distinct and creative writing style, but it’s not a free pass to disregard these conventions altogether. Successful rule-breaking is rooted in mastery; it comes from a deep understanding of how those rules work.

When writers deliberately bend or ignore mechanical norms, they achieve a specific effect: enhancing a character's voice, building a particular atmosphere, or conveying emotion. But it can backfire if done haphazardly, without care or purpose, leaving the reader confused, frustrated, or disengaged.

Breaking the rules effectively still requires respect for their role in clarity and communication. Readers need to feel grounded in the narrative, even if it is unconventional. If the writing feels sloppy rather than intentional, it risks alienating the reader or disappointing a publishing editor.

The key is to use these deviations sparingly and thoughtfully, ensuring they serve the story. Ultimately, creative writing isn’t about chaos; it’s about balance, knowing when to follow the rules, and when to push boundaries to enhance the narrative.

The Good News

The good news? Writing is a craft, and you can sharpen these skills every day!

• Write. Every day. It should go without saying.

• Read. All the time. That should also go without saying.

• Proofread others in your writing group.

• Volunteer for a contest or peer judging.

• Make yourself available to other writers to edit their work.

• Be kind and help others.

Every piece of writing is an opportunity to refine your mechanics.

It’s like polishing the lens through which readers experience your art.

Don’t waste another minute. Get out there, write, and write well.

R