The biggest lesson I have learnt in writing: simplify.

Simplify, simplify, simplify.

Omit unnecessary words. Avoid adverbs that add no useful meaning to its verb (“smiled happily”, “yelled loudly”). Don’t use a long word when a shorter one will do. You want to strip down each sentence to its core meaning, free of ambiguity or wasted breath.

But Eric, you might say, this style of writing looks awfully boring, and I’m rather quite exciting like Tolstoy or Dostoyevsky, so this does not apply to me.

It does.

While I am sure you have a wonderfully creative mind, you can only add style when you have built your prose on a clear, precise foundation. If your writing is messy at its core, adding style is like adding decorations to a house built on quicksand. There is no point in making the house look pretty. It’s going to crash and burn regardless.

Only once you have built a strong foundation, can you move onto decorating your work. You may experiment with punctuation, catch-phrases and tone. Maybe you love to use dashes or semicolons. Maybe you like writing At all costs, or Albeit and wish to include these in every piece. If you find appropriate ways to use these, then by all means.

But they must be hung on a solid base. And the best way to ensure a solid base?

Simplify, simplify, simplify.