The goal of good writing, I believe, is writing as little as necessary.
Good writing isn’t long, detailed, monologues of grand ideas wrapped in little gift boxes of pre-screened words carefully tied together with phrases sculpted by a surgeon’s fingers. The goal of writing is to slash these boxes apart, to grab words with your bare, muddy, hands and piece them together crudely on a board for all to see.
I believe something that is “written well” is something that everyone with a primary-to-immediate level of education can understand and access. I believe stories should resonate with the mechanic and the engineer, with the schoolteacher and the professor, with judges and thieves.
Because stories are what unites us all, and words are what strings minds together with other minds and bind us in our most beloved, shared stories. What use, then, is it to separate people as sheep from goats, as the high-minded and the low-minded?
Good writing unites rather than segregates.