William Zinsser, R.I.P.

(photo from WilliamZinsser.com)

William Zinsser was, by all accounts, a brilliant writing teacher. And because he wrote books on the subject, he will continue to be a brilliant writing teacher, even now that his physical body has died. It was just yesterday, May 13th, that he passed. I found out this morning, thanks to my husband's daily trolling of the New York Times headlines.


"I feel like I've spent a lot of nights in bed with that guy - well, you have, anyway," my husband said, alluding to the Zinsser standbys in my pile of nightstand books. His famous manual on the craft of writing nonfiction, On Writing Well, is my go-to handbook when the voices of self-doubt derail my writing intentions. It reminds me of the many good ways to proceed. And always leaves me grateful for his clarity and conviction.

I used to feel satisfied with my early writing, and resisted being taught. My writing voice was tight and sassy, and I liked the raw emotion in it. Like my music. In high school and college, I played bass guitar in a band without ever having taken a lesson. It was fun, full of youthful energy. Now that I've lost most of my punk rock badass attitude, I can admit that I play bass like someone who's never taken a lesson: limited, brimming with unrealized potential.

I appreciate the power of good writing. It's what I want to do. I've studied the craft with a number of inspiring teachers, and have workshopped my essays and manuscripts, always wanting to "go deeper" and improve. I can't count the times William Zinsser's name has come up during my writing education. Suffice it to say, his books are recommended often. By everyone.

I hope that Mister Zinsser rests in peace, as the impact of his legacy lives on and on.