Tone makes or breaks an editorial. (Symposium Secrets to Stronger Editorials).

The writer hoping to understand the key to persuasion often sets out in search of tone, voice, and theme. Discerning theme should be easy enough. It is, after all, the point of the piece. Savvy readers might find the intangible thing called "voice" in an editorial's emotions. Is the piece angry? Mourning? Frustrated?

But what exactly is tone? It's one of the more elusive concepts in writing. It operates covertly, lending inflection to an opinion writer's voice and infusing her theme with a little zing. In those ways, tone is easier to experience than it is to define.

So here's a stab at a definition. Tone is about how an editorial writer stands, not where he stands. Imagine not the emotion of voice or the fine focus of theme, but the attitude behind the words. As a strand of DNA in the genetics of writing, tone carries not just point of view, but posture. Push the metaphor a little further, make it more tangible, and the writer's tone becomes his body language.

It is the raised left eyebrow. The pursed lips. The shrugged shoulders. It is the dubious glance over the rims of the reading glasses. It's an essential part of persuasion and could do with a little more analysis if writers hope to get better at handling the tool. In that pursuit, let's imagine how the writer is standing as she delivers the day's editorial message. In no particular order, you'll find a few oft-used persuasive poses below.

Read enough editorials (or write enough), and you'll recognize these forms of editorial posture and dream up dozens more. It's good exercise. Analyze a few of your own editorials or those of a writer whose work you admire. Look for the tone. Give it a name and add it to your repertoire. Once identified, the tool is easier to control and employ.

That's important, because the wrong tone at the wrong time, directed at the wrong audience, can fall on deaf ears or, worse, backfire.

Stay with the body language metaphor a moment more. Readers watching with horror while riots rock their town are more likely to heed a Bugler than a Thinker. Readers grappling with the fiery death of a space shuttle's crew are not likely to be persuaded the next morning by the words of the Scowling Skeptic, no matter how much NASA might deserve to be dinged. A week later, though, the Skeptic's may be the perfect pose.

The Pulpit sermonizer is great in those moments when the newspaper must rise in the face of unquestionable evil or wrongdoing. But it's a stance best struck sparingly, lest the newspaper gets undermined by the credibility-killing label "ivory tower." And it's not especially effective when what's called for is a scowl or a word-borne wink.

The next time you're trying to figure out which tone's right for your piece, tap into the editorial's attitude. Use a little body language.

Stand up and assume your position.

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THE PULPIT PREACHER

The writer towers over the reader, waving above his head the tablets of Ultimate Truth. It is a posture of great passion and certainty, invoked in times when there aren't two sides to the story and the moment calls for such words as "surely," and "absolutely," and "without doubt."

THE SCOLDER

Equally unequivocating, the writer steps down from the pulpit to go toe-to-toe (or finger-to-face) with the reader, admonishing with words like "should" and "shan't" and "shame."

THE GREAT THINKER

This writer sits in a ponderous, knuckleson-chin squat, knowing from the first,, consider "to the last "weigh" that the point of the editorial is to put ideas into the public arena and get readers thinking before a debate collapses into finger-wagging and preaching.

THE SCOWLING SKEPTIC

Arms crossed, body angled, head turned so that the writer regards the reader from the corners of her eyes, the Skeptic nods knowingly and says, "yeah, right" and "of course." The preferred tools of persuasion here are sarcasm and ridicule.

THE BUGLER

Gripping the cavalry's bugle with one hand and waving the crowd to follow with the other, the writer rallies readers toward a decision already scouted out by the newspaper. Sprinkled with third-person pronouns, the Bugler's piece is sure-footed without being preachy and unwavering without waving a finger in the reader's face.

Keith Woods directs the reporting, writing, and editing program at The Poynter Institute, a school for journalists in St. Petersburg, Florida. E-mail [e-mail]