The Chrono-synclastic Infundibulum

The chrono-synclastic infundibulum came from the fertile mind of Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. It's a place or time when/where everything becomes one and everyone and everything is right. It was one of Vonnegut's ways of poking at excessive human pride and the limits of our knowledge.

From Vonnegut's Sirens of Titan:

“When I ran my space ship into the chrono-synclastic infundibulum, it came to me in a flash that everything that has been always will be, and everything that ever will be always has been.” He chuckled again. “Knowing that rather takes the glamour out of fortunetelling—makes it the simplest, most obvious thing imaginable.”

It gives some dimension to Vonnegut’s life advice: “I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don’t let anybody tell you different.” 

So, you might ask, "Scott, if this is a blog for copy and content writers, why are you quoting from a novel published in 1959?" 

Because I want you to consider picking up and reading it ... or Slaughterhouse Five or Player Piano or Welcome to the Monkey House or any of Vonnegut's work. 

Good writers are good readers.

In addition to improving your writing chops by reading Vonnegut, you can also benefit from the advice he offered to other writers. As writers we strive to write clearly and concisely, editing our early drafts with dispassionate vigor. Here's his advice on that:

As for your use of language: Remember that two great masters of language, William Shakespeare and James Joyce, wrote sentences which were almost childlike when their subjects were most profound. “To be or not to be?” asks Shakespeare’s Hamlet. The longest word is three letters long. Joyce, when he was frisky, could put together a sentence as intricate and as glittering as a necklace for Cleopatra, but my favorite sentence in his short story “Eveline” is this one: “She was tired.” At that point in the story, no other words could break the heart of a reader as those three words do.

Simplicity of language is not only reputable, but perhaps even sacred. The Bible opens with a sentence well within the writing skills of a lively fourteen-year-old: “In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.”

It may be that you, too, are capable of making necklaces for Cleopatra, so to speak. But your eloquence should be the servant of the ideas in your head. Your rule might be this: If a sentence, no matter how excellent, does not illuminate your subject in some new and useful way, scratch it out.

And, have you read Vonnegut's 8 rules for writing? If not, here the are. If so, read 'em again.

1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
   
   
2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
   
   
3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
   
   
4. Every sentence must do one of two things—reveal character or advance the action.
   
   
5. Start as close to the end as possible.
   
   
6. Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them-in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
   
   
7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
   
   
8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To hell with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.

Finally, what better way to end a blog about Kurt Vonnegut than with what he called his 1st rule:

"First rule: Do not use semicolons. They are transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely nothing. All they do is show you’ve been to college."