Having just read Stephen King's Fairy Tale in time for Halloween, it's appropriate to examine his asides on poor writing included in the book. (BTW, Fairy Tale is a good read with King's typical well-executed character development, plot, and a great finish to the story. But you have like the whole Grimm fairy tale genre before you read his take on it.) Stephen King doesn't tolerate anything less than crisp prose. When the story's hero, Charlie Reade, tries to read a book about the origins of fantasy and its place in the world matrix ("what a mouthful"), he can only scan it because: It was everything I hated about what I thought of as "hoity-toity" academic writing, full of five-dollar words and tortured syntax. Maybe that's intellectual laziness on my part, but maybe not. Later on, Charlie tries to focus on a particular chapter in the "origins of fantasy" book about the story of Jack and the Beanstalk but is put off by "t
Most lawyers draft contracts. That's what lawyers do. And they use perceived terms of art ("TOAs") because they want to be paragons of contract-drafting precision. But here is where the canker gnaws: the words that lawyers insert in their contracts as TOAs are actually not, potentially causing problems in clarity and interpretation. And as I've said time and again, these problems lead to disputes, and disputes lead to litigation, which is always time-consuming and expensive for the parties involved. Let's first define TOAs in the legal context. According to Professor Bryan Garner in his Dictionary of Legal Usage , TOAs have specific, precise meanings that are "locked tight" and based on legal precedent. But then there are the faux TOAs, "whose meanings are often unhinged." Expert contract drafters, Garner says, know that clear, simple drafting is less subject to misinterpretation than using TOAs that are nothing more than "mere jargon.