Draft No. 4: On the Writing Process

Shortly after I started my first editorial job (as opposed to writing only), my boss gave me a copy of Blundell's _The Art and Craft of Feature Writing_. (I'm still grateful, Peter.) Ever since, Blundell's book has been on my short list of most-useful books for writers because of its practicality and encouragement. As Blundell pointed out, a good feature writer can make ANY subject interesting -- even, say, oranges, about which (Blundell pointed out) John McPhee wrote an entire book. Now, Blundell's #1 spot on my writer's bookshelf has been replaced by McPhee's own book about the writing process. (Though really, get both.) McPhee is a brilliant writer -- as evidenced by his ability to keep a reader's attention all the way through a 60,000-word New Yorker article, and to make those readers keep turning pages on any number of non-fiction books. He also is a superb instructor. The book covers such topics as structure, progression (in what order you present events), dealing with editors, elicitation (such as how to take notes while the source is staring at you; "display your notebook as if it were a fishing license," he suggests), frames of reference, and fact checking. Nobody taught me these things; I had to learn all of them from experience. Now you don't have to. Oh my, that sounds like a college course (and I guess it is, since McPhee has a long professorship at Princeton). But this is fun, engaging, full of "oh wow that's a good idea" practicalities. I wish I had a buck for every time I said, "McPhee captured that idea so much better than I ever could." Case in point: "The lead -- like the title -- should be a flashlight that shines down into the story. A lead is a promise." Or the advice that, when you can't find the end of a piece, look back upstream. "Run your eye up the page and the page before that. You may see that your best ending is somewhere in there, that you were finished before you thought you were." (As an editor with nearly 20 years of experience, now, I call affirm that some authors keep writing well after they're done. Fortunately they have me and my red pen.) McPhee has plenty of praise for the editors who guided him and anecdotes that made me smile. Shawn breaking in new writers, "but not exactly like a horse, more like a baseball mitt." The idea that "editors are counselors and can do a good deal more for writers in the first-draft stage than at the end of the publishing process." The copy editor and fact checker in the urgency of an issue closing including McPhee's article about geology, leading to him commenting, "so many rocks were flying around in my head that I would have believed Sara if she had told me that limestone is the pit of a fruit." I said aloud to the book: I want to be the kind of editor who is worthy of this kind of admiration and appreciation. (I have a long way to go.) Can you tell I love this book? I really do.

John McPhee has arguably questioned my belief in the genre I've chosen, and my work couldn't be better. His "creative nonfiction" tells us that what might be best is not by making something up but by making the most of what we have. How was I introduced to this? Required reading for a Stanford's Continuing Studies programme I'm currently taking, called "Writing the Globe: Crafting the Personal Travel Essay", led by the talented Peter Fish. Fish chose Draft No. 4 as the main text for the course, but we are also reading selections from The Best American Travel Writing 2020 and other writers like Rahawa Haile, whose short story "Sidra" can be found in the collection The Good Immigrant: 26 Writers Reflect on America. Others I bought were: I purchased The Best American Travel Writing 2020 guest edited by Robert Macfarlane, which reviews weren't as good as other editions, so I picked up the first edition of the Best American Travel Writing series as well, guest edited by Bill Bryson, the man who wrote A Walk in The Woods and then felt like I had enough supplementary text to take this giant leap into nonfiction. I should have bought some work from John McPhee himself, but he does a good job providing excepts of it throughout the book; you won't be disappointed. If I were you and you were hard-picked on buying a John McPhee book, I'd pick Oranges as an additional text to Draft No. 4. He brings it up a lot throughout, and I'd say if you really wanted to dive deep, then this would be just the one to do it with. "The sex life of citrus is spectacular. Plant a lime seed and up comes a kumquat, or, with equal odds, a Seville orange, not to mention a rough lemon or a tangerine." - Oranges I wonder if McPhee has ever tried durian? Essential information: Published in 2017, the book is 192 pages long and was written by the American writer John Angus McPhee, considered one of the pioneers of creative nonfiction. A term I was only recently introduced to, it differs from other nonfiction in that, although also rooted in fact, its prose is meant to entertain. McPhee won the Pulitzer Prize in 1999 for Annals of the Former World, a book about North America's geological history, which was researched and written over two decades beginning in 1978. If you haven't realised it already, this guy is hardcore. McPhee is known for having had a long career at The New Yorker, and he tells many interesting stories throughout Draft No. 4 about his tenure there. I liked the story of Eleanor Gould and her "Gould Proof" the most: "Eleanor Gould, who, in 1925, bought a copy of the brand-new New Yorker, read, and then reread it with a blue pencil in her hand. When she finished, the magazine was a mottled blue on every page - a circled embarrassment of dangling modifiers, conflicting pronouns, absent commas, and over-all grammatical hash. She mailed the marked-up copy to Harold Ross, the founding editor, and Ross was said to have bellowed. What he bellowed was "Find this bitch and hire her!"" What's interesting about that quote is that she was only nine. You must read the book to learn more about her and the "Gould Proof." McPhee, 91, currently still has a post at The New Yorker, and according to his Wiki profile, since 1974, has been a Ferris Professor of Journalism at Princeton University. What's it about? Draft No. 4 evolves from different essays on the writing process that have appeared in The New Yorker and are composed here in eight chapters that outline as a whole the process of writing a finished piece for publication. Progression Structure Editors & Publisher Elicitation Frame of Reference Checkpoints Draft No. 4 Omission "Progression" deals with the subject, primarily the person or people you will write about and how you will construct the piece around them. He perfectly uses his 1969 double profile "Levels of the Game" as an example, and I only wish he included more of it. Ten years later, Levels of the Game became a book of his, which it seems is a pattern, in that his New Yorker pieces usually are seeds for larger endeavours like Oranges was. "Structure" starts with many paragraphs on how "your last piece is never going to write your next one for you. Square 1 does not become Square 2, just Square 1 squared and cubed." However, it is mainly about the chronology and theme of the piece and the tension between them, noting that chronology usually wins. But McPhee throws in a hell of a lot of information on how not to make a piece chronological and gives examples of his work in graph form. He gets precise! My favourite quote about structure of his is this: "Readers are not supposed to notice the structure. It is meant to be about as visible as someone's bones. And I hope this structure illustrates what I take to be a basic criterion for all structures: they should not be imposed upon the material. They should arise from within it." And that last line sums up what the chapter "Structure" strives for, how to find the format of your story within your data. It's technical and dense, but you will be all the better for reading it. "Editors & Publisher" gives you a gist of the business process that I knew not much about, and McPhee makes it an exciting read. I like a quote that he takes from English dramatist Ben Jonson: "Though a man be more prone and able for one kind of writing than another, yet he must exercise all." This a quote I myself should take heed to. "Elicitation" is about the interview itself, and you will learn a lot from it and may read things you might not want to hear. For how "Whatever you do, don't rely on memory." I want to be someone to live in the moment and not have a notepad and paper, but I guess this is impossible according to McPhee, and he agrees that "In the way that a documentary-film crew can, by very presence, alter a scene it is filming, a voice recorder can affect the milieu of an interview." But tough luck. I myself need to learn this, and over time, I will. McPhee reminds you to remember your role and that you can't have it both ways. Overall, "Elicitation" offers some great examples from McPhee's illustrious career interviewing people, and you will be rewarded by hearing about his story of Richard Burton, among others. "Frame of Reference" is a chapter on the things and people in writing you choose to infer to in order to advance its relatability. This chapter is where the book picks up speed and where it went from, in my opinion, a 3 airplane book to a 4 airplane book, my rating system on my blog. I found it fascinating how common points of reference dwindle over time and the difficulty it is for a writer to find something that can withstand the ages. I also liked this one fact I learned about the etymology of the word "posh": "The most expensive staterooms were on the port side, away from the debilitating sun. When they [the English people who went to India during the Raj] sailed westward home, the most expensive staterooms were on the starboard side, for the same reason... starboard out, starboard home." Port out starboard home. Draft No. 4 is filled with tiny facts like this, and although I probably heard this one before in my travels, it was nice to be reminded of it. Although I did google it and its origin can be debated. McPhee also critiques other writers in this chapter, such as Maureen Dowd and Frank Bruni, the latter talking of our "collective vocabulary." This starts the climax I think of Draft No. 4, and I began not to put it down. "Checkpoints" is all about fact-checking, and "If a writer writes that Santa Clause went down a chimney wearing a green suit, the color will be challenged, and the checker will try to learn Santa's waist measurements and the chimney's interior dimensions." McPhee brings up some interesting stories of his own run-ins with fact-checkers at The New Yorker, and you will be delighted to hear about the one that revolves around the air sac of an American eel. Chapter "Draft No. 4" is relatively simple because it's about revisions and drafts. That's all I'll say, but McPhee makes some great points about using dictionaries and thesauruses: "The value of the thesaurus is in the assistance it can give you in finding the best possible word for the mission that the word is supposed to fulfill." He then goes on to tell of his mistakes, which are most illuminating, especially the one about the arctic. "Omission", the final chapter, is short but sweet. But it stresses that writing is all about selection, which is something that this writer must learn when writing book reviews. I liked a quote that he attributes to George Plimpton, "Anything you know you can eliminate and it only strengthens your iceberg." My praise and critique: McPhee tells us that what might be best is not by making something up but by making the most of what we have, and I've been pondering those words since I read them. Although it took a while to get into and started off with some graphs/diagrams that I was not expecting, I treasured it. And after writing a third of this review, I realise now how valuable the information was. I'm excited to take what I learned and apply it in the course I'm taking. I've been a fiction writer up till now, but that fiction, surprisingly, has all been based on fact. Why have I found the need to add in the superfluous? Is it superfluous, or is it needed, or can I find a balance where my imagination still reigns free? I don't know. But what I do know is that McPhee paints the process of writing a finished piece for publication well, and that's what Draft No. 4 is all about. My critique would only be on the first few chapters and my not understanding them well enough. THIS COULD BE ENTIRELY ME. But I felt the diagrams in the "Structure" chapter were still confusing, and I felt like a math student trying to understand an equation. I'm terrible at math, but I did understand something, so I'm giving McPhee some credit. Let's just say they take a second reading. I'm giving it (4 airplanes) in that this book had everything I was looking for and then some. I didn't know what to expect, so I was pleasantly surprised. If I compared it to champagne, it isn't Dom, but it's definitely better than Veuve. The writing is superb and has a unique creative style; I would reread it. Like I said, in some sections, you might actually need to reread to get the whole meaning of it, and that's ok. Would I recommend it? Buy this and be a better writer for it. It is not something you read once, and it's priceless information for any writer, whether a poet or a creative fiction writer like myself. Put it on your bookshelf or Kindle and refer to it time and again when thinking about structure and, above all, omission. Who is it for? If you've stumbled this far into this review, this book is obviously for you. It's easier to say who the book isn't for. It's not for the lazy writer. It is not for someone who doesn't understand that writing is one of the most challenging professions. It's not for someone not willing to do the work, and luckily, in Draft No. 4, John McPhee helps us in more ways than one to make our job as writers a little bit easier. Thank you, Mr McPhee. What I listened to while reading it: Jako Diaz

John McPhee has been writing, and teaching writing, for decades. He ranks among the most capable and experienced writers in the world and richly deserves all the accolades heaped upon him. He also, in my experience, ranks among those rare and cherished correspondents who squeaks when squoken to: write to him, rationally, and this busy man answers, kindly. His new book, the most recent of more than thirty, is a primer on writing well, based significantly on the writing course he has been teaching at Princeton for many years. It includes scores of fascinating and insightful anecdotes based on his brave globe-trotting work in writing his signature long nonfiction, comprising articles (some for Time, mostly for The New Yorker) that were turned into books because of their length. He divides the work into logical sections and only his treatment of editing and final assembly, in this era of modern word processing, strikes a discordant note: 1980s technology has been far transcended in speed, cost and convenience. He delves deeply into the thorny fact-checking issue and here he scores brilliantly. The New Yorker devotes intense effort in this vital area. But McPhee fails the reader in one significant area of publication, which he claims undertakes scrupulous fact checking: The Atlantic. I can be quite specific. The Atlantic published a scathing review by the late Christopher Hitchens of Lord Jenkins’ biography of Winston Churchill. Hitchens, not always encumbered by facts, claimed, among other things, that Germany had no intention of invading England in the late 1930s and early 1940s. In fact (“fact checking”) Hitler had created and funded Operation Sea Lion for just this purpose, and photoreconnaissance by British PRU (Photo Reconnaissance Unit) Spitfires showed more than 1,500 invasion vessels in the ports of Northern France. The Atlantic, advised of this gross factual error, did not deign even to reply, though the facts were available in scores of reliable places. You want to believe them today? The polished elegance of McPhee’s prose results from meticulous attention to detail, down to the simplest individual word usage. Just the process of reading this book will give any writer the true sense of verbal mastery, clarity of expression and the essential need to examine every word we write. McPhee is the eternal master and we are all his students.

If you want to learn about a subject and how to master it, why not learn from someone at the top of their profession? John McPhee is a professor of journalism at Princeton, writes for The New Yorker and has published thirty books. As a guide to the writing process I found Draft No. 4 to be insightful, illuminating (without being pedantic) and helpful. McPhee’s writes with humility and humor without getting up on a high horse. I have written two non-fiction books and am looking to write more and his book has motivated me to pursue my projects with more vigor. I thought as a new writer that I was in a minority being overcome with self-doubt. McPhee explains that (in his view) real writers are those that doubt themselves and are often discouraged and in a state of despair. He points out that if you lack confidence and struggle with writing that you must be a real writer, and conversely if you describe yourself as someone who “loves to write,” that you are probably delusional. I’m not sure if he intended this to be humorous or not but I found it to ring true, (although I both love to write and struggle.) The subtitle of the book reflects the contents more accurately, “On the Writing Process,” although Draft No. 4 is catchier and refers to his suggested ratio of writing to editing, that is, his advice to get something down on paper and then keep editing. He states that he has a finished product after his fourth draft, although I normally do quite a few more revisions. In spots the book has a little bit of an inside baseball feel, although delightfully so if you love the written word, as he gives insights into what makes The New Yorker such an esteemed publication and the neverending tussle between a writer and copy editor. For me, the lasting parts of the book are the truisms that he identifies: even though you may write for only 2-3 hours a day, your mind is working 24 hours a day: while you are sleeping, driving, and puttering around your subconscious mind is looking for words or phrases to help your prose. Also, how he highlights or brackets words that aren’t exactly right and then goes back during editing and searches for more perfect words and for clarity. As he says, “. . . there is elegance in the less ambiguous way.” Draft No. 4 takes its place on my bookshelf next to my dictionary, Strunk & White, the Chicago Manual of Style and a thesaurus. Writing is a solitary and often lonely process and McPhee lets you know that you’ve got company. His book feels borderline illicit, like he is taking some of the mystery out of the writing process and he (thankfully) lets you in on some of the secrets. I wish it were longer than 192 pages, I could have devoured more.

John McPhee is one of the best nonfiction writers around. In Draft No. 4: On the Writing Process, he reveals so much about how writers get their stories told and putting the words on the page. This book celebrates effective writing and the worlds of editors, proofreader, publishers, and readers. The book is filled with humor and great lessons about the daily work of writers, especially about curiosity and deep listening. What a delightful book!

This little book is a real delight to read! It’s filled with wonderful stories. Some are really fun, while others might be a bit confusing—for instance, the story about Steve Jobs and Bill Gates. When Steve Jobs accused Bill Gates of stealing his idea, Bill responded jokingly, “Well, Steve, there is more than one way of looking at it. I think it’s more like we both had a rich neighbor named Xerox, and I broke into his house to steal his TV set, only to find out you had already taken it.” The title of the book beautifully reflects its content. “Draft No. 4” subtly suggests that writing involves numerous revisions, encouraging us to appreciate the writing journey. Meanwhile, “John McPhee on the Writing Process” clearly shares his own approach to crafting his work, offering us valuable insight. He used examples to demonstrate how writing structure can vary depending on how one views and organizes it. Sometimes, this can be confusing. You might wonder what he’s talking about. It may seem like it’s written for journalists, but the same thought process can be applied when writing an email. However, if you’re seeking writing tips, this might not be the right book for you.

As a High School student in Casper, Wyoming, 65 years ago, I had to write some essays which included drawing up a formal outline first and then letting the outline direct the writing process. I never could do that. I had to write first and then write the outline last. I got John McPhee's book "Draft No. 4. WOW, he talks about how to organize your work. His method is far superior to any that I have seen. This is the advice from the best writer and is what I should have been doing all along. The whole book is aimed at making writing easy and fun. The book is superb, but has ONE MAJOR FLAW. This book is 65 years too late. Don't tell McPhee this, but I am writing a SPEECH using his writing book as guidance. It makes the creative process fun.

This is a superbly written guide to writing creative non-fiction. It is also an entertaining memoir of McPhee's writing life, especially for The New Yorker magazine. Their are eight chapters, each formerly published in The New Yorker, on topics like Structure, Frame of Reference, and Omission, Many of these contain useful technical advice about writing creative non-fiction. All eight chapters contain interesting, and often humorous, personal anecdotes and observations. He even offers a little encouragement to writers trying to write. The book is 192 pages long and I wish it had been twice as long just so that I could have lingered in McPhee's enjoyable company. Fortunately he has published many other books that I will start re-reading now. Highly Recommended!

It has certainly motivated me to work harder. Gather a lot more relevant information to do even a small piece of factual writing. It amazed and inspired me to read how much time and effort great magazines like Time and The New Yorker invest in checking the facts before a piece is allowed to be published.

This man is a clever writer and puts his story into useful ideas. Hard to put down

The book is for slightly advanced learners of the writing process and best suited for feature writers

This book is more about McPhee's life as a writer than it is a book of advice on writing. Not exactly practical, but – like everything McPhee writes – interesting reading.

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