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It’s not that I’m against acronyms. It’s just that I think they’re often unnecessary. I mean, how much more work is it to hammer out “also known as” on the keyboard than “AKA,” which sounds like an illegal firearm or a sound you would make when a bug flies into your mouth? And really, is it that difficult to write “politically correct”? Do you really have to replace it with “PC” – especially when PC has another meaning?” I could understand all this if we were painstakingly carving our words into stone with hammers and chisels. But we’re not.

Many other acronyms are just plain stupid. Take “TEOTWAWKI” for example, which stands for “the end of the world as we know it.” There are two big problems with TEOTWAWKI: First, it takes longer to sound it out and write it down than it takes to write out the entire phrase. Second, most people would read it and say, “What the [ED] is that?” (By the way, “ED” stands for “expletive deleted.”) Another gem in the genre is “IYKWIMAITYD,” which is short for “if you know what I mean and I think you do.” Who’s going to memorize that one?

There are certain acronyms, however, that I do endorse. They fall into two categories. The first includes acronyms that, if spelled out, would be crude and lewd. Examples of these are “SOL,” “CYA,” the much-loved “SOB,” and the lesser known but attention-getting “SNAFU” and “FUBAR.” (Don’t ask me why abbreviating bad words makes them less bad, but it does.)

The other category of acceptable acronyms includes those that stand for words no one would know how to spell unless they had a dictionary on hand or were grade school spelling bee champions. These are usually foreign words. Examples are “AD” (anno domini), “MO” (modus operandi) and RSVP (répondez s’il vous plaît).

Having said all that, I should point out that one kind of writer should go ahead and embrace acronyms of all kinds: the text messager. People who are forced to use keyboards the size of postage stamps to communicate should take any shortcuts they can find.

I was just reading All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy. It’s a wonderful book and he’s an incredible writer. But you don’t have to read too far into the novel to realize he breaks just about every rule in existence, and does so boldly and repeatedly. Here are two sentences from the book:

The boy who rode on slightly before him sat a horse not only as if he’d been born to it which he was but as if were he begot by malice or mischance into some queer land where horses never were he would have found them anyway. Would have known that there was something missing for the world to be right or he right in it and would have set forth to wander wherever it was needed for as long as it took until he came upon one and he would have known that that was what he sought and it would have been.

The sentences are way too long. The second sentence lacks a subject before “would have.” There is no internal punctuation – no commas where there should be a half dozen at least.

Here’s another excerpt:

He’s not jealous.
That’s good. That’s a good trait to have. Save him a lot of aggravation.
What does that mean.
I dont mean nothing. I got to go.
Do you hate me?
No.
You dont like me.

Did you notice the absence of an apostrophe in “don’t”? McCarthy doesn’t use apostrophes in “don’t,” “can’t” and certain other common contractions throughout this book. Did you notice the absence of a question mark after “What does that mean”? Also, you probably noted that he doesn’t use quotation marks to enclose dialog.

And yet, in the hands of this master writer, those rule violations are okay. In fact, they somehow enhance the book.

Does that mean you can take the same liberties? Of course not. Wait until you’re an accomplished author with publishers clambering to buy your work. And even then, make sure your violations add something to your writing rather than hurting it. They say rules are made to be broken, but if you don’t break them skillfully, intelligently and at the right time and place, they will break you.

Whether you’re writing a novel or a sales letter, you have to get into the “zone” before you can give it your best.

The zone is that place where you are completely absorbed in what you are writing – where time ceases to exist. When you slip into the zone, the world’s noise and motion melt away. You find that you are no longer trying to write. Instead, something is being written through you.

That thing that is “you” – your mind, brain, heart, soul, body and whatever other elements comprise you – has unchartered power and possibilities. When all the aspects of “you” come together to focus on writing, miracles occur.

If you have been in the zone, you know what I’m talking about. Is it a miracle that time doesn’t just slow down or stop, but actually ceases to exist for you – that when you come out of the zone you are shocked that the sun has gone down when it should still be high in the sky? Is it a miracle that when you read what you wrote while in the zone, you realize you were writing at a higher level than your skills and talents could take you?

In a television program about Beethoven, Leonard Bernstein showed a series of the composer’s handwritten musical notes for his renowned Fifth Symphony and played parts of them. It was obvious that the main melodic theme was not quite “there.” Then Bernstein showed the next sheets Beethoven wrote. Whereas the previous sheets looked like melodic war zones written by a madman, filled with violent scratchings and crossings-out, the writing on the sheets of that next version – the one that became the symphony we know today – was perfect and calm. No changes. Nothing scratched out.

It was as if, after all Beethoven’s work and frustration in finding the perfect version of the melody, the clouds had parted and there it was – just as it was always meant to be. Bernstein said, “It was as if God had telephoned it in directly to him.”

That’s the zone.

When you get into the zone, you will tune into something inexplicable – something that will allow you to write as you could never write outside that wonderful space or state.

How do you access the zone? There’s the rub. It’s not easy for most of us. You have to work to be there. You have to earn the presence of your muse.

Drugs? Alcohol? NO! They might help you loosen up, but they won’t take you to the true zone. They may stimulate you in the short term, but they will eventually ruin you. They drag you into a dangerous counterfeit state that may masquerade as the zone, but isn’t.

There are better ways to access the zone – methods that are healthy and sustainable. The beneficial effects of these methods actually grow and compound themselves as time goes on, unlike the effects of drugs and alcohol, which diminish over time, requiring more and more to deliver less and less.

People are not creative because they take artificial stimulants – they take artificial stimulants because they are creative and their creative temperaments make them vulnerable to those poisons. Don’t short-circuit your creativity and your life by making the same mistake.

Here are some healthy, sustainable and powerful ways to summon your muse and get into the zone:

• Listen to music. Music is a drug – a good drug – for many people. It can mask out the commotion around you. Be careful what music you use, however. Stephen King wrote his books with hard rock music blaring. (Go figure.) But most of us will need less intrusive music, perhaps slow classical or new age music, or even recordings of peaceful environmental sounds. Even “white noise,” which masks out other sounds and envelopes you in silence, might be right for you. Ah, the music of the spheres …
• Close your eyes. Watch the inner surface of your eyelids for a while. The mere absence of visual stimulation can help you get into a state where you can access the zone. When you’re ready to write, you’ll have to open your eyes, of course, but if you’ve entered the zone, you will see only what you are writing.
• Take a walk. Friedrich Nietzsche once said, “All truly great thoughts are conceived by walking.” The human body is a walking machine, but few people in developed countries spend much time walking these days. That’s not good – not only physically but mentally and emotionally as well. Take a walk and see what happens. It doesn’t even have to be a long walk.
• Focus on an object. We look at things all the time. But how often do we really see them? One proven method for getting into a state where you can slip into the zone is to stare at an object and keep staring. It can be a candle flame, a pen, a rock … whatever. As you look at it, think only about what you are seeing. Let all other thoughts slip gently away from you. See it. You won’t know what I mean by this, and you can’t know how powerful this simple exercise can be, until you do it intensely.
• Breathe deeply. In our frantic, hectic lives, so far removed from nature, we often forget to breathe as we were meant to breathe: deeply. Ancient sages told us that to really breathe deeply, you have to inhale all the way down to your toes and exhale completely through the crown of your head. Try this for five minutes and (if you don’t hyperventilate and slump to the floor) you will feel how wonderful strong, simple breathing can be.
• Count your breaths. Closing your eyes and counting the breathes you take forces you to slow down and focus on something within you. If you do this well, you will leave the craziness and worries of the world behind and find a place of stillness and self-restoration.
• Meditate. I saved this for last because it is actually what all the other methods help you do. For the writer, meditation is the portal to the zone. The act of meditating places you at the door. Your good intentions as a writer who wants to tap into the unlimited potential on the other side of that door will open it … if your muse feels you are worthy.

I’m only half joking about your muse. The fact is, you have to do everything you can do to be worthy of entering into the zone. You have to develop your skills, polish your talent, do your homework, and be willing to throw some time, blood, sweat and tears at it. Beethoven and other creative geniuses have proven how difficult and elusive it can be to achieve worthiness.

But it is worth it. One minute in the zone is worth it. That’s something no one will believe until they’ve been there.