Trimming the Fat: Cutting Unnecessary Words in Your Writing

As a short story and flash fiction author, I sincerely appreciate brevity and conciseness in storytelling. Crafting a powerful narrative in just a few pages, or even a few paragraphs, requires each word to pull its weight.

There’s an art to trimming the excess while still capturing depth, emotion, and character. I love the challenge of weaving a complete world within limited space, where every detail is intentional, and each sentence sharpens the story’s impact. For me, the beauty of short fiction lies in its precision, in saying just enough to resonate—and nothing more.

Here’s an example from a recent short story I wrote for a 2,000-word contest, The Baker of Bogwollow.

“But kind sirs,” Bran continued, rocking on his heels and slipping his thumbs into his waistcoat, “this is no ordinary pie box.”

Think of what I’m conveying in one sentence:

• The mannerisms of my character, Bran, and his tone and formality lend to his ability to charm people with words.

• A description of what he’s wearing.

• His action of slipping his thumbs into a waistcoat depicts confidence.

• Rocking on his heels conveys playful confidence in body language, maybe even a trickster persona, because it’s a stereotyped behavior.

• The dialogue creates suspense, pulling the reader along the story.

Saying less says more.

One of the biggest challenges for new writers is learning to spot unnecessary words that sneak into sentences, puffing them up without adding value. These filler words, phrases, or entire sentences might seem harmless, but they can make your prose bloated and slow.

Think of phrases like “in order to” when “to” alone will do, or “she thought to herself” when “she thought” says the same thing.

The problem with these extra words is that they often muddy the point and dilute the impact of your writing. Readers crave clean, punchy sentences that keep the story moving. If every sentence has fluff, readers can get bogged down, and your story might lose momentum.

The best way to cut unnecessary words is to edit with fresh eyes. Ask yourself: Does each word serve a purpose? Is there a more straightforward way to say this? When you find redundant phrases, try removing them and see if the sentence still makes sense—or even reads better. Trimming a few words often makes a line sharper and gives it more punch.

Writing is about finding that balance: include enough to paint the picture but not so much that readers feel weighed down.

Aim for clarity, word economy, precision, and flow.

R

Keeping Clothing Descriptions in Check for a Stronger Story

One common trap for writers is the urge to detail every item of clothing on every character.

I get it: fashion can reveal a lot about someone. However, if you go overboard describing exactly what each character is wearing, right down to the stitching on their boots, you might lose readers’ attention — fast.

Over-describing can stall the story and slow the pacing significantly if it doesn’t add much to the scene.

The goal isn’t to eliminate clothing descriptions; it’s to use them strategically.

Let’s look at an example.

Elaine walked into the tavern, her emerald green cloak sweeping behind her. The cloak had intricate golden embroidery along the hem and a deep hood lined with soft velvet. Beneath, she wore a fitted leather bodice dyed a rich burgundy, laced tightly up the front with black silk ribbons. Her sleeves were puffed at the shoulders, tapering down to her wrists, where she wore a set of silver bangles. Her trousers were deep brown, tucked into knee-high boots that had brass buckles and small, dark scuffs from frequent travel.

On the one hand, the author dives deep into description to give a sense of the character and their background. It’s meaningful to choose the words “leather bodice” and “rich burgundy” and sleeves that “taper” down to the wrists. Oh, the bangles, too, and the scuffs on the brass buckles of her boots. Nice!

All of these creative layers come to mind as we write physical descriptions, and they’re good stuff. But it’s kind of like Maid and Butler Talk — it’s a massive info dump that slows that story down. It’s just taxing to slog through such a weighty, descriptive paragraph to move the story along. It’s a hallmark of a new writer attempting to get everything about a character and front-load the description.

Ask yourself: does knowing that your character’s cloak is emerald with gold embroidery matter to the story now? Sometimes it does! If that cloak symbolizes status, wealth, or even a magical property, describing it makes sense. But if the details don’t serve the plot or the character, it might be better to leave them out.

When it comes to description, less is more.

Instead:

Elaine strode into the tavern, her emerald cloak swirling behind her.

Great! We see Elaine striding confidently into the tavern with a swirling cloak. Check! Perhaps later, we could introduce another facet, like:

Thymyral eyed the golden embroidery along the hem of Elaine’s cloak. “A merchant marine’s vestment,” he said, gesturing. “You’re a long way from Quisintine, stranger.”

That’s another descriptive layer moving the story along.

“You follow the ways of Maryn, the Sea God?” Father Bynard asked. He lightly touched Elaine’s silver bangles about her wrist. “Yes. I’ve heard tell of their practices, drowning elves and the like.”

Yet another descriptive layer that allows the reader to understand the context. The silver bangles are more than a fashion accessory to Elaine; they’ve got religious meaning, adding even more depth than the original paragraph. But if that’s the setup, here’s the payoff.

Thymyral looked away, disgusted. “I suppose zealotry is its own reward.”

Notice how I used the bangles to set up reaction, dialogue, and conflict. That’s a strategic move by me to help stage the emerging plot.

A few well-chosen details can say more about a character than a whole paragraph. Instead of listing every item in their wardrobe, pick one or two unique items that hint at their personality or mood.

For example, mentioning that your character has a worn leather jacket may suggest a rough past or a rebellious spirit. Readers can fill in the rest with their imagination.

So, when you’re tempted to spend three sentences on someone’s outfit, think about what truly matters. Does it matter at the moment? Can it be layered in at a later time? How does describing a particular garment relate to dialogue or action in the current scene?

Let your readers imagine the other details.

R

Who Is Horwich Cobbleberry?

Horwich Cobbleberry might be the most self-assured halfling to grace the Swindle & Swine.

Every Darkest Day, the hamlet of Pondaroak waits with bated breath to see if this audacious, well-dressed character will live to tempt fate again.

For seventeen years, he’s strutted into the inn, Keening Cup in hand, like the star of his show, delivering grand speeches and weaving tall tales about his adventurous ancestors.

He’s more than just a crowd-pleaser — Horwich embodies the spirit of a halfling who lives for the limelight. With a flashy dinner jacket, burgundy waistcoat, and silk lime-green ascot, he commands attention with his attire and confidence.

But Horwich’s tradition isn’t just about fun; he dabbles with danger, downing a drink from the Keening Cup. In the story, the Keening Cup is a mysterious and foreboding relic passed down through the Cobbleberry family for generations. Crafted from the wood of a blackthorn tree that grew over a witch’s grave, this cup is said to be cursed. It’s a central tradition for Horwich Cobbleberry, who uses it yearly in his annual toast on the Darkest Day.

Legend has it that drinking from the Keening Cup can summon a banshee — a wailing spirit who reveals how the drinker will die in the coming year. If the banshee does not appear, it’s taken as a sign that the drinker is safe from death for another year. To Horwich, this ritual is a bit of harmless fun — a way to show off his bravado and impress the townsfolk of Pondaroak. He’s convinced that nothing supernatural will happen despite the cup’s dark origins.

However, Elina Hogsbreath, the innkeeper, isn’t so sure. She sees Horwich’s ritual as a dangerous flirtation with forces beyond his control. Her concerns prove valid when the cup seemingly fulfills its grim legend, leaving Horwich with a terrifying vision of his mortality. The Keening Cup serves as both a literal and symbolic reminder that some traditions are best left untouched, especially when they tempt fate.

Horwich scoffs at the superstition, convinced he’s invincible. To him, it’s all a bit of harmless excitement — a means to charm and entertain his fellow villagers.

Yet, beneath the showy exterior, Horwich’s bravado may mask a more profound vulnerability. Elina Hogsbreath, the innkeeper, seems to sense the folly of his antics. She knows that when you play with the supernatural, there’s a chance it’ll answer back. Whether Horwich will ever take her warnings seriously remains to be seen, but as long as he’s breathing, you can bet he’ll return, ascot and all, to raise that cup high for another year.

R

Choosing Big vs. Small Words for the Right Impact

Okay. I’m writing this more for my benefit than yours, so bear with me. I have a lot of anxiety around this topic, as — my frequent readers would know — I love myself a $5 word.

The $5 Word

As writers, we have a vast toolkit of words — some simple and familiar, others long or archaic. The English language has around 1 million words — though estimates vary based on how you define “word.” This figure includes words from dictionaries, technical terms, regional dialects, slang, and historical and archaic terms no longer commonly used. The Oxford English Dictionary, for instance, a publication that aims for comprehensive coverage, includes around 600,000 entries, while more general dictionaries contain fewer, typically 200,000 to 300,000 words. English continues to grow as new words emerge from technology, culture, and science, and it borrows liberally from other languages, which means the count is constantly expanding!

Fantasy authors like me have a smattering of go-to $5 words that look cool on paper.

• Ensorcelled – meaning enchanted or bewitched. “The sorceress’s spell ensorcelled the knight.”

• Fain – meaning gladly or willingly, often used to convey desire. “He would fain take up his sword to defend his homeland.”

• Perdition – meaning a state of eternal punishment or ruin, often with a dark, ominous feel. “The cursed treasure would lead any who sought it to perdition.”

• Aegis – meaning protection or sponsorship, originating from mythological usage. “The hero fought under the aegis of the goddess herself.”

• Gloaming – meaning twilight or dusk, with a mystical, atmospheric connotation. “They journeyed through the forest in the fading light of the gloaming.”

Ooo! Aren’t they cool words?

Tiny Treasures

Maybe you might feel as I do.

Writers, as wordsmiths, often delight in unearthing obscure words — those hidden gems of language that carry shades of meaning, history, or emotion not easily captured by everyday vocabulary. Using a rare word is like sharing a small, shimmering treasure with readers; it invites them into a deeper layer of the story’s world or the writer's fascination with language.

When writers select words like “ensorcelled” instead of “enchanted,” it’s not just about vocabulary — it’s about evoking a certain mood, transporting the reader somewhere unusual and captivating. These words hint at secrets within the story, carrying connotations that enhance the setting, enrich the tone, or even deepen a character’s personality.

Obscure words give writers a chance to play with language, savor its texture, and share that joy with readers, who, in turn, get to enjoy the rare thrill of learning a word or being reminded of one.

It’s a subtle way for writers to connect with readers, offering them a gift that feels intimate, like a wink or a whispered secret. Like, “Here’s a cool word! Love this word! I love this word!” In that way, each rare word becomes more than just vocabulary — it becomes a shared experience, a tiny treasure passed from one lover of language to another.

Stroking Our Ego

Now, using one of these “$5” words, like “ensorcelled” or “gloaming,” can make an author feel chuffed (see what I did there?) because these words bring a certain depth, flair, and old-world charm to the writing.

Sliding a rich, archaic word into a fantasy story can feel like adding a secret ingredient that only enhances the setting, adding an atmosphere that feels special and immersive. Plus, using language that resonates with the tone of fantasy allows authors to create a unique voice and style that feels as magical as the worlds they’re building.

But when is it better to keep it simple? Is there a risk of alienating your readers if they don’t know or understand the word? It’s all about choosing the words that best serve your story and connect with your readers.

The Modern Reader

Hi.

My name’s Russell. I’m a writer. I’ve been on the sauce for forty years, and I, er, have an unrealistic perspective of the modern reader: I assume they’re like me.

I believe when readers encounter my cool $5 word, they’ll right-click it (please see the multiple layers of assumptions here) and ask for a definition. Because they’re curious, right? They, too, collect tiny treasures and want to know what they mean. They want to hold them in their palm, stare at them for a while, and coo, telling them what a pretty word they are.

Ensorcelled! You’re such a pretty word! Aren’t you a pretty word?

While exact figures vary, some surveys suggest that around 15-20% of readers will pause to look up a word immediately. In contrast, others will make a mental note and return to it if it significantly affects understanding. Generally, readers are more likely to look up words if they feel it will enhance their experience — like grasping a key concept in a fantasy novel or a mystery. This behavior suggests that 20 percent of readers are genuinely curious and appreciate language, significantly when the word enriches the story or setting.

Please note: the other 80% don’t.

Oh, the horrific feedback I’ve received from judges in writing contests that boil down to:

I didn’t know what this word meant, so I skipped it.

[Grasping my chest.]

I don’t know what’s going on. I’m sorry.

[Running my nails down the side of my cheeks.]

Couldn’t you have just said, ‘tie’ instead of ‘ascot’? Or ‘sword’ instead of ‘scimitar’?

[Silent screaming. No, really: there’s a difference!]

The Reality of the Modern Reader

Newspapers and most mainstream publishers aim for a reading level around 8th to 9th grade. This level ensures that content is accessible to a broad audience and balances readability with clarity and sophistication.

Writing at this level keeps language direct and engaging, making it easier for readers to understand quickly. That’s important for news, which readers typically consume in brief sittings.

Using big or unusual words can add flair and style, especially in fantasy or historical fiction, where specific terms create atmosphere.

Words like “empyrean” or “maelstrom” evoke images and sounds that bring a unique texture to your work. But there’s a catch: if readers constantly reach for the dictionary, they may lose focus and feel distanced from the story. Heck, it may even throw them out of the story.

Here’s an example from a recent contest entry, Sēng of Titan.

Its metallic features shadowed by a wide-brimmed dǒulì,
the robot’s crescent kick sent Rex Thorne crashing to the parched earth.

The word dǒulì is easily Googled. It’s a conical Asian hat. It’s a specific thing. I love that word! And in this contest, I used one word for “conical Asian hat,” so it’s quite economical, too. But guess what my feedback was like?

Yeah.

I really wanted to use that word, but in the end, 80 percent of my readers glossed over it. Without additional context in the sentence, they had no idea what it meant, disengaging them from the story in the opening sentence.

[Facepalm.]

On the other hand, small, straightforward words are easy to read and digest, letting readers focus on the plot and characters. For action scenes or emotional moments, small words keep the pace fast and accessible.

The Voice of the Author

I’ve also been accused of this one. A judge will say my voice as an author rings in a character's dialogue.

That’s not how the character would speak; you’re speaking through them.

[Ugh. But I was writing from the 1st personal perspective of a 19th-century steampunk scientist, you jerk! Am I a 19th-century Steampunk scientist?!]

Ahem. I digress.

Ensuring my characters aren’t parroting what I would say is an ongoing challenge. Would my character use a $5 word? It's hard to say, but I probably don’t want to make a frequent habit out of it. It dampens the believability of my character.

Talking Above the Reader

This was another lesson I took away from Sēng of Titan. It turns out people don’t know the moons of Saturn like I do. Titan’s in the title (yes, one of Saturn’s moons), but some of my readers didn’t see or understand it. So when I started talking about “the moon’s surface,” they thought I was suddenly referring to Earth’s moon and were seriously confused.

Even better, this line:

… the robot’s crescent kick sent Rex Thorne crashing to the parched earth.

My readers didn’t understand the term “crescent kick” and conflated “earth” with “Earth,” like they didn’t understand I was referring to the ‘ground’ and not the planet.

[WTF.]

And this line:

The robot lifted a bamboo dizi to play a breathy, drifting melody that stirred dormant nanoparticles suspended in the atmosphere.

Beautiful, isn’t it? Yeah, I was rather enamored by it, too. By context, the reader could tell a dizi is a Chinese flute if they didn’t look it up, and indeed, everybody knows what “dormant nanoparticles suspended in an atmosphere” are. Right? It’s so science fictiony!

[No.]

I mean, a part of me just wanted to lash out and blame peer-based judging for handing me ignorant, brainless people to judge my awesome science fiction story. Where’s the critical thinking? The locale is in the title! Look up what you don’t know! I didn’t capitalize ‘earth,’ so it’s not the planet? Don’t you understand what nanoparticulates are?! Duh?!

Responding like this would be a good way of missing the point by comforting my ego, wrapping myself in self-righteous indignation, and assuming all readers are like me.

This is a wrong assumption. It doesn’t serve me, and it won’t help me write better. I alienated my readers by talking above them, sending them down a road of confusion.

This was a peer-judged contest. I needed to convey meaning by writing the lowest common denominator.

It’s taken me decades to crawl out of my skin to realize this.

What’s the Best Approach?

I’ve come to feel the best approach is simplicity and balance.

Write in short, concise sentences with 8th-grade words.

Use short, stabby sentences to convey immediacy.

Use long, flowing sentences to create a sense of movement, something ethereal drifting in the wind, an idea that must have buoyancy.

Use vivid, specific words when they add something essential to the story, but don’t be afraid to lean on more straightforward language for clarity and flow.

And if an archaic word tempts you, make sure it adds to the scene without overshadowing it.

Experiment with your word choices and read your drafts out loud. No, really: read them out loud or have an AI read them back to you.

If it sticks in the mouth or chewy, something’s wrong. Your ideas aren’t fully baked yet. Sometimes, you may have to tuck your tiny treasures away for another day. They’re just not going to work to convey meaning.

Finally, I’ve learned that it’s not the reader’s job to divine meaning — that’s my job. You must prepare your manuscript for your intended audience and be mindful of talking above them. It would be best to meet them where they are instead of dragging them along like I wanted to.

You’ll soon find your voice and know when to go big or keep it small.

R

Avoiding “Maid and Butler” Talk for Realistic Dialogue

The monk and the knight huddled near the campfire, their voices low.

"As you know, Brother Aldric," the knight began, "Lord Bingleton, the man we’re after, has been siphoning the villagers’ gold and resources for his twisted ends.”

The monk nodded gravely. "Yes, Ser Edrik, he’s kept the people hungry and destitute. In fact, just last year, he seized the village granaries to feed his private soldiers.”

"And don’t forget," Ser Edrik added, "that Lord Bingleton secretly pledged his loyalty to the Dark King. He offered up the sacred relic of Saint Lysander, hoping it would grant him the king’s wicked blessing.”

"Of course," replied Aldric. "He even built that fortress on Hollow Hill, which, as you know, used to be a sacred site for the Order. He knew the ground itself would twist under his twisted twisty influence."

The knight frowned. "And yet he has guards everywhere, traps along the walls, and enchantments over the gates — all meant to keep us out. It will be no easy feat to reach him, let alone stop him."

Okay, cut!

Jeepers. Wow. Ahem. Where was I?

Oh, yes.

Maid and Butler Talk

If you’ve ever caught yourself writing dialogue that sounds too much like an info dump, you might be dealing with “Maid and Butler” talk.

Don’t panic! It’s a common affliction.

This term refers to a type of dialogue where characters tell each other things they already know purely for the reader's benefit.

Aside from Brother Aldric and Ser Edrik, imagine a scene where one character says:

“As you know, Sarah, we’ve worked together for five years here at Acme Corp.”

Ooo! That’s maid-and-butler talk!

Uh, yeah, real people don’t rehash shared knowledge like that.

It feels unnatural and can take readers out of the moment.

When characters say things only for the reader’s benefit, the conversation feels forced and artificial, breaking your story's flow. Readers want to be immersed in the world you’ve created, and when dialogue doesn’t ring true, that immersion is disrupted.

To avoid this, you must draw upon your powers as an author to find creative ways to show backstory or exposition without relying on stilted dialogue. Use context, subtle hints, and character actions to communicate important information naturally.

For example, instead of having a character say, “As you know, you’ve been my partner since college,” try showing their long history through shared memories, inside jokes, or even an old photo one of them keeps on their desk. These details allow readers to grasp the backstory without overt explanations.

Showing Versus Telling

Killing Maid and Butler Talk goes hand-in-hand with a concept often explored in writing: Showing versus Telling.

Instead of telling the reader directly about Lord Bingleton’s evil deeds in a way that feels like an info dump, the characters can reveal their feelings and shared history through their dialogue, non-verbal responses, and actions, allowing readers to experience the story.

When we say “show, don’t tell,” we encourage writers to immerse readers by letting them deduce meaning through character actions, dialogue, and subtle descriptions rather than spelling everything out. The writer creates tension and emotional depth by drawing readers into the story, engaging them directly with the story rather than explaining it at arm's length.

This approach enriches the narrative by letting readers interpret and connect with the story more deeply. It keeps them active participants, piecing together the story from natural, character-driven cues, and makes for a much more compelling reading experience.

Keep your dialogue realistic and engaging. Where you find Maid and Butler Talk, think about how you’re trying to take shortcuts to tell the reader something rather than show them. It might work in some instances, particularly in cramped stories with word limits, but where you can try to eliminate it.

R

Avoiding Passive Voice

One of the sneakiest pitfalls for new writers is the passive voice.

I wrote a little bit about the subject when exploring verbs last month, but today, I wanted to do a deep dive: active versus passive construction, and why it matters.

Okay. Active. Passive. Constructions. Blech. It all sounds so technical, but here’s the gist: in the passive voice, the action happens to the subject rather than the subject actively doing something.

For example, “The cake was eaten by the child” is passive, while “The child ate the cake” is active. It’s a small change, but there’s a big difference!

Contrasting Passive Voice Against Active Voice

Active voice is a sentence structure where the subject acts directly. This form is typically more precise, direct, and often more engaging, as it emphasizes the doer of the action. In active voice, sentences follow the format of subject → verb → object.

Here are some examples:

1. The chef cooked dinner. The subject (chef) is actively acting (cooking) on the object (dinner).
   

2. The dog chased the ball. The subject (dog) performs the action (chased) on the object (ball).
   

3. The team won the game. Here, the subject (team) is directly responsible for the action (won) applied to the object (game).

In contrast, the passive voice switches the object and subject, often making the sentence feel indirect: “Dinner was cooked by the chef,” “The ball was chased by the dog,” etc.

Passive Voice in Administrative Communication

Passive voice is commonly used in business or administrative language. While it gets a bad rap, it does serve a purpose. In these contexts, passive voice can create a neutral tone, soften statements, or keep the focus on actions rather than specific people or departments.

For instance, saying, “Mistakes were made in the project’s execution” instead of “The team made mistakes in the project’s execution” removes direct blame, making the language less personal and often more diplomatic. Passive voice can also emphasize the action over the actor, which is helpful if the “who” is less important than “what happened.”

That said, we don’t want our fiction or non-fiction stories to sound like business memos, do we?

Passive Voice in Prose

Too much passive voice can make writing feel vague or evasive, and it may lead to reader confusion or frustration if they’re unsure who is responsible for specific actions.

For balance, use passive voice intentionally and sparingly, mainly when neutrality or diplomacy is needed, but switch to active voice when clarity and directness are essential.

Why Does Passive or Active Voice Mater?

In prose, passive constructions can make sentences distant, dull, or confusing. Readers thrive on clarity and energy, and the passive voice weighs down your prose, causing readers to feel detached from the action.

Imagine writing, “The sword was swung by the knight,” rather than “The knight swung the sword.” The second choice is sharper, cleaner, and keeps your reader engaged. It has more energy — it’s immediate, it’s active — and that energy is what we’re after as authors.

Passive voices in fiction can drain energy and immediacy, making descriptions feel detached and characters seem less dynamic.

In storytelling, readers want to feel that they’re part of the action, seeing events unfold in real time. Passive voice, however, disrupts this flow by making events feel like they're happening in the background or after the fact, which can create an unintentional distance between the reader and the story.

For instance, if you write, “The treasure was discovered by the adventurers,” the focus lands more on the treasure than on the adventurers who found it. In fiction, where characters drive the narrative, this construction feels weaker. Switching to active voice, “The adventurers discovered the treasure,” puts readers directly in the moment of discovery, letting them experience the characters’ excitement firsthand.

Going back to administrative communication, another issue with passive voice is its tendency to blur responsibility and reduce clarity. If readers are trying to track action sequences, emotional moments, or crucial plot twists, passive voice can muddle who’s responsible for what, especially in complex scenes.

Take, “The spell was cast, causing the tower to collapse,” which leaves it ambiguous who cast the spell. In contrast, “The mage cast the spell, causing the tower to collapse,” centers the mage’s decisive role, tightening both the action and the stakes.

While passive voice has its place, especially for conveying subtlety or mystery, using it too often in fiction can make your writing feel less immediate, weaken character agency, and slow the story's pacing. An active voice keeps the action front and center, amplifying tension and giving readers the immersive experience they crave.

Spotting Passive Constructions

To spot passive voice, look for versions of “to be” (was, were, is) paired with past tense verbs. Once you find these, flip the sentence so your characters do the action directly. This brings clarity and energy into your storytelling, helping you convey movement and emotion.

The word “was” is often considered a red flag for passive voice because it’s frequently paired with a past participle (a verb ending in -ed, -en, etc.) to form a passive construction. In passive voice, the structure typically looks like “was/were + past participle,” which shows that the action is happening to the subject rather than being actively performed by it.

For example:

• Passive: “The letter was written by Sarah.”

• Active: “Sarah wrote the letter.”

In the passive version, “was written” makes the letter the focus, while in the active voice, “Sarah wrote” places Sarah as the primary actor.

Therefore, a good FIND/SEARCH on your document for “was” can help identify possible passive constructions.

AI can also help. You can paste a sentence into an AI, ask if it is passive, and rewrite it in active voice. You can even paste your entire chapter or short story and ask the AI to locate passive constructions. A real time-saver.

Let’s be clear. “was” itself isn’t always a sign of passive voice. It can also indicate past progressive tense, which describes an ongoing action in the past, like, “She was reading when he called.” In this case, “was reading” shows an active, continuous action.

But “was” is a good starting place to hunt down and root out passive constructions. Look for sentences where “was” or “were” is combined with a past participle, and the subject receives the action rather than performing it.

Noticing this difference can help you avoid passive constructions that weaken your prose and shift to active ones that give your writing clarity and momentum.

Conclusion

Cutting down on passive voice isn’t just about rules; it’s about making your writing come alive and bringing your readers directly into the action.

So keep a keen eye on those passive phrases. Your readers — and editors — will thank you!

R

Drop Hedging Words to Make Your Writing Stronger

One of the most common habits I see in new writers is the overuse of hedging words — those little fillers like “maybe,” “probably,” “seems,” or “kind of.”

In writing, hedging refers to using words or phrases that soften or dilute statements, making them sound less assertive or confident. These words often express uncertainty, caution, or vagueness.

Hedging words are a natural part of everyday conversations to soften statements, express uncertainty, or be polite. We say things like, “I think this might be a good idea” or “It’s probably a good approach” to avoid sounding too direct or overly confident. This conversational habit can seep into our writing, especially in first drafts, where we tend to write as we speak.

In prose, however, hedging words can weaken the impact of our storytelling. Words like “maybe,” “sort of,” and “kind of” make our characters sound hesitant or unsure, which can undercut tension and reduce the clarity of emotions or actions.

For instance, if a character “kind of feels scared,” readers are left questioning the depth of fear experienced by the character. Does the character truly feel scared, or are they unsure? Are they “maybe a little scared” or genuinely terrified?

As authors, hedging words dilutes your writing and weaken your message.

As readers, we only know what the author tells us, and if the author is uncertain, on the fence, unclear, or can’t communicate action or dialogue with precision, we feel it.

Cutting hedging words strengthens your story by letting your descriptions land with more impact. Readers can sense the difference, and a clear, bold choice pulls them in. Strengthening the prose often means choosing direct, clear words that convey precise emotions or actions, giving readers a more vivid experience without the haze of uncertainty. By stripping away the maybes, the kind ofs, the sort ofs, the probablies, the writing becomes more powerful, allowing readers to fully engage in the story without second-guessing the character’s intentions or feelings.

Keep an eye out for these kinds of words. When you find them, ask yourself if they’re necessary, and try the sentence without them. Nine times out of ten, you’ll find that your prose gains a sharper edge and communicates exactly what you mean.

As you gain confidence, you’ll find that your storytelling voice becomes more robust and more distinct — without uncertainty or extra fluff. Readers want to feel they’re in good hands, and a bold, decisive voice does just that.

Less hedging equals more power!

R

Using Caution with Split Infinitives

Writing about verbs, as it turns out, is a massive chore.

So there I was, writing a blog post about verbs, when I went to discuss split infinitives, transforming my 500-word blog post into a 2,000-word monster.

Therefore, I’ve broken out the topic into its own post. Like, yeah, again. Let’s not waste any time!

First — Infinitives

Just to recap from my discussion on verbs, the infinitive form of a verb is its most basic, uninflected form, typically preceded by the word to. It represents the verb in its purest state, without indicating tense, mood, or subject. In English, infinitives often appear as to + verb, such as to run, to eat, to write.

Examples:

• to run (infinitive)

• to speak (infinitive)

• to see (infinitive)

Uses of Infinitives:

1. As the subject of a sentence:

   • To read is my favorite hobby.

2. As the object of a verb:

   • She wants to learn French.

3. To express purpose:

   • I went to the store to buy groceries.

Infinitives can also appear without to, especially after certain verbs like can, must, and let (e.g., She can dance), and are referred to as "bare infinitives."

Common Pitfall: The Split Infinitive

Okay, a split infinitive is when we insert an adverb or word between to and the verb (e.g., to boldly go). While it’s not a hard rule today, and you can split infinitives when it feels more natural, keeping infinitives intact often sounds cleaner.

• Traditional: To go boldly into the unknown.

• Modern: To boldly go into the unknown. (This works just fine too!)

• He promised to quickly finish the report. (See how quickly separates the infinitive to finish?)

• They want to completely redo the project. (The infinitive, to redo, is separated by completely.)

Why the Fuss Over Split Infinitives?

The controversy around split infinitives stems from a long-standing rule in traditional English grammar. This rule was borrowed from Latin, where infinitives are single, indivisible words (e.g., amare for to love), so they can’t be split. They’re like solid Lego. You can’t cut a Lego brick in half! That’s absurd!

However, since English is a much more flexible language, this rule is not as hard and fast. For a long time, dusty grammarians (yes, there’s an excellent word) insisted on avoiding split infinitives, encouraging people to rewrite sentences so that to and the verb stayed together. In modern usage, split infinitives are more accepted, and the "rule" is often considered outdated.

When Using a Split Infinitive is Peachy Keen …

• When Using Them for Emphasis: Splitting the infinitive can add emphasis or create a specific rhythm that improves the sentence. Example:

  • To really understand the problem, you must look deeper.

Moving really changes the tone: Really to understand the problem or To understand the problem really feels awkward or changes the focus of the sentence.

• Natural Flow: Sometimes, splitting the infinitive sounds better. For example, the famous Star Trek phrase "to boldly go" feels much more natural and impactful than the alternatives.

… And When Using a Split Infinitive is Problematic.

• Clarity: Sometimes, a split infinitive can confuse the reader or complicate the sentence.
  

  Confusing: She decided to quickly, without hesitation, eat the last slice.

  Better: She decided to eat the last slice quickly, without hesitation.
  

• Formal Writing: Some readers may frown upon split infinitives if you write for a formal or academic audience. To play it safe, you might avoid them in these contexts.

How to Correct Split Infinitives

To correct a split infinitive, move the adverb or other modifying word splitting the infinitive (to + verb) so that the "to" and the verb stay together.

Example of a Split Infinitive:

• She wants to quickly finish her homework.

Correction Option 1: Move the Adverb After the Infinitive

• She wants to finish her homework quickly.

Correction Option 2: Move the Adverb Before the Infinitive

• She wants quickly to finish her homework.

Both options are grammatically correct, though option 1 typically sounds more natural in modern writing. The goal is to keep the sentence flowing smooth while maintaining the emphasis you want to achieve.

However, remember that split infinitives are often acceptable in modern English, especially if they sound more natural or improve clarity. It’s more about balance and the overall effect on readability!

Here’s some advice. Before submitting your work to a contest judge or a publishing editor, throw it scene-by-scene into an AI engine and ask it to look for split infinitives. Review each one. Maybe there’s a better way (a more direct way) to say something? Find out!

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Watching Your Intensifiers

Wow. Okay, this feels familiar.

So there I was, writing a blog post about verbs, when I went to discuss intensifiers, transforming my 500-word blog post into a 2,000-word monster.

Therefore, I’ve broken out the topic into its own post. Hot dog! Let’s get started.

Intensifiers

Adverbs can function as intensifiers, meaning they modify and enhance the meaning of adjectives or other adverbs. When used as intensifiers, adverbs emphasize or strengthen the degree or intensity of something, adding more punch to the description.

How Adverbs Act as Intensifiers

Modifying Adjectives: When an adverb intensifies an adjective, it alters how we perceive the described quality. It can either amplify or diminish the adjective’s impact.

• The food was extremely spicy. (The adverb extremely intensifies the spiciness.)

• She’s quite talented. (The adverb quite lessens the intensity but still highlights the talent.)

Modifying Other Adverbs: Adverbs can also intensify other adverbs, making an action feel more or less powerful.

• He drove very fast. (The adverb very intensifies fast.)

• She sings incredibly well. (The adverb incredibly enhances well.)

Examples of Common Intensifying Adverbs

• Very: The weather is very cold. (Very adds intensity to cold.)

• Really: She’s really excited. (Really enhances the excitement.)

• Too: It’s too late to start. (Too emphasizes that it’s beyond the acceptable point.)

• So: I’m so happy! (So amplifies the feeling of happiness.)

• Absolutely: He’s absolutely sure. (Absolutely reinforces the certainty.)

• Quite: The movie was quite enjoyable. (Quite moderates the enjoyment.)

• Extremely: That test was extremely difficult. (Extremely makes the difficulty stand out.)

• Barely: She could barely hear him. (Barely reduces the action, showing it was almost not possible.)

Negative Intensifiers

• Hardly: I hardly know him. (Hardly reduces the degree of knowing.)

• Slightly: It’s slightly chilly outside. (Slightly lowers the impact of the cold.)

Why Use Intensifiers?

Well, intensifiers allow you to:

• Emphasize certain details.

• Enhance emotions or actions in your writing.

• Clarify the strength or weakness of a description.

For example, instead of saying, “She’s happy,” saying “She’s incredibly happy” changes the perception and energy of the sentence, making it more expressive.

Abusing Intensifiers

Using them too often or too heavily — can weaken your writing and make it feel repetitive, overly dramatic, or imprecise. Here are some key problems related to overusing intensifiers:

1. Weakening Your Message

Overusing intensifiers can dilute the impact of your words instead of strengthening your writing.

Ursula Le Guin called them ticks in the prose!

For example, if you describe everything as "really important" or "extremely difficult," readers may stop feeling the weight of those descriptions. When everything is intense, nothing truly stands out. Here’s an example of overuse.

• The movie was really amazing, and the acting was incredibly good. I totally loved it.
  
  vs
  

• The movie was stunning, and the acting was unforgettable. I loved every moment.

2. Vagueness and Lack of Precision

Relying too much on intensifiers can lead to vague descriptions. Instead of showing exactly why something is "very bad" or "so beautiful," you're telling the reader in a general, unspecific way.

• The weather was very bad.
  
  vs
  

• The weather was stormy, with heavy rain and strong winds that knocked over trees.

3. Repetitiveness

When you overuse intensifiers, your writing can become monotonous. If every sentence is filled with words like very, really, so, or extremely, it can make the reader feel like you’re relying on the same tricks to amplify your point.

• She was very tired, and the house was really messy. It had been an extremely long day.
  
  vs
  

• She was exhausted, and the house was in disarray after such a long, grueling day.

4. Inflation of Emotion

Overusing intensifiers can make your writing feel overly dramatic or exaggerated, especially in emotional scenes. Constantly using phrases like "so sad," "absolutely terrifying," or "extremely happy" can make your story feel less genuine.

• He was so scared that he literally jumped out of his skin.
  
  vs
  

• His heart raced, and his hands trembled as he backed away.

5. Impact Fatigue

When you constantly use intensifiers, their impact diminishes. Readers start to expect that everything is "really" or "extremely" something, and the words lose their power over time. Instead of emphasizing key moments, it creates a flat, continuous tone.

How to Avoid Abusing Intensifiers

• Be Specific: Use strong verbs and descriptive adjectives to convey your meaning without relying on intensifiers.
  

• Use Sparingly: Save intensifiers for moments that really need an extra punch, rather than using them in every sentence.
  

• Show, Don’t Tell: Instead of saying something is “really amazing,” describe what makes it amazing.
  

• Vary Your Language: Avoid using the same intensifiers repeatedly. Mix it up with more precise or unique descriptors.

How do you spot an amateur author? Count the number of intensifiers (usually -ly words) used in a paragraph. :)

So here’s my advice. Before submitting your story to a contest or publishing editor, throw your work — scene by scene — into an AI engine and have it look for intensifiers. The results might surprise you in that, unconsciously, you’re constantly using intensifiers when a better verb or adverb would do.

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The Gallant Gerund

So there I was, writing a blog post about verbs, when I went to discuss gerunds, transforming my 500-word blog post into a 2,000-word monster. Therefore, I’ve broken out the topic into its own post for your pleasure.

I believe it’s warranted. Gerunds are great, but new writers tend to abuse them, so let’s explore what they are all about.

Gerunds

I love gerunds. Maybe … too much. I have to take special care not to overuse them.

A gerund is a verb that ends in -ing and functions as a noun in a sentence.

Instead of showing action like a typical verb, a gerund acts more like a thing or an activity.

For example:

• Running is my favorite hobby.

• Writing helps me express my thoughts.

In these sentences, "running" and "writing" are gerunds because they are being used as the subjects of the sentences (activities) rather than showing action.

Gerunds can also function as objects:

• She loves cooking.

• He avoided talking to the stranger.

Even though these words look like verbs, they're playing the role of a noun, showing what the subject loves or avoids.

Abusing the Gerund

Gerunds can be "abused" when overused or used awkwardly in a sentence, leading to clunky or unclear writing. Here are a few ways this can happen:

1. Gerund Overload

When multiple gerunds are used in a single sentence, it can become hard to follow or sound unnatural.

Example of overload:

• Running, swimming, and hiking are what I enjoy doing after working.

A cleaner version:

• I enjoy running, swimming, and hiking after work.

The sentence feels smoother when there aren't too many gerunds competing for attention.

2. Unclear Subject or Ambiguity

Sometimes, overusing gerunds can cause confusion about who or what is performing the action.

Example of ambiguity:

• Walking the dog while eating dinner can be tricky.

Is walking or eating tricky? And who is walking the dog — someone or the dog itself? To avoid confusion, it's better to clarify:

• It's tricky to walk the dog and eat dinner at the same time.

3. Awkward Sentence Structure

Relying too much on gerunds can lead to awkward sentence constructions that sound stilted.

Example of awkwardness:

• The playing of video games all day is frowned upon.

A smoother alternative:

• Playing video games all day is frowned upon.

The Gallant Gerund

Gerunds are exceptional — even gallant — because they possess a unique versatility.

1. They Can Be Dynamic Nouns: Gerunds have the elegance of transforming actions into entities. They let you describe an activity like running or swimming as if it’s a tangible thing, adding depth and movement to a sentence. Instead of just doing something, the action itself becomes the focus, like "Running is my passion." This flexibility makes gerunds stand out among nouns.

2. They Offer Effortless Flow: Gerunds can smoothly link ideas in a natural and fluid way. Their ability to maintain the energy of a verb while acting as a noun gives sentences a graceful rhythm, allowing your thoughts to flow without awkwardness. For instance, "He enjoys cooking and painting" carries an effortless blend of activities without feeling forced or heavy.

Gerunds bring both dynamism and balance, making them a gallant tool for creating expressive and fluid writing!

But as for abuse, if you find that gerunds are weighing down your sentences, try rephrasing them or using more straightforward verb structures to keep the flow natural.

And here's some advice:

If you’re submitting your work to a publishing editor or contest judge, take your story to ChatGPT (or an AI of your choice — I’m commercially agnostic around here) and have it identify all of the gerunds, scene by scene. The results might surprise you. They may be an unconscious crutch in your writing. It’s something an experienced judge or editor will catch.

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Finding the Right Vibe with Verbs

Verbs … move.

They’re the vibe you’re looking for.

Verbs are the action heroes of the writing world, giving your sentences life, energy, and motion.

Without them, well, your story’s going nowhere! And I mean literally.

Jimmy ___ by the fountain to ___ the water ___ across the surface.

Blech. What exactly is Jimmy doing with the fountain? What’s happening here? Where’s this turkey author taking me anyway?

Verbs move the story.

So, today, we're diving deep into the world of verbs. Whether you’re a newbie or just brushing up on your skills, this is your ultimate guide to mastering those action-packed words.

What Exactly Is a Verb?

In the simplest terms, verbs are words that show action or state of being. If your character is running, jumping, laughing, thinking, or even existing, verbs make it happen.

• Verbs are the engine that drives your story forward.

• Almost every sentence requires a verb.

Without verbs, you'd have a bunch of nouns just sitting there, like “Jimmy,” “the fountain,” and “the water.” And while that might make for an interesting art exhibit, it’s not the best approach to storytelling.

There are three types of verbs: Action, Stative, and Linking.

Action Verbs

These are your classic verbs. They describe what the subject of your sentence is doing. Action verbs are physical (like run, jump, write) but can also describe mental actions (like think, believe, dream). Action verbs give movement and create visual images. Example:

• Marcus runs down the street.

• Liora believes in the impossible.

See how those verbs bring the sentence to life? They let you know exactly what's going on.

Stative Verbs

Stative verbs describe a state of being or a condition rather than an action.

Unlike action verbs, which show movement or dynamic activities (like run, jump, write), stative verbs refer to situations, feelings, thoughts, relationships, or qualities that are more static and unchanging over a period of time.

Examples of Stative Verbs:

Verbs of Thinking or Belief: know, believe, understand, doubt, imagine, suppose.

• She knows the answer.

• I believe in your potential.

Verbs of Emotion or Feeling: love, hate, like, prefer, desire, fear.

• He loves chocolate.

• I hate waiting in line.

Verbs of Possession: have, own, possess, belong.

• They own a beach house.

• The book belongs to me.

Verbs of the Senses: see, hear, smell, taste, feel.

• I see a bird in the tree.

• This soup tastes great.

Verbs of Relationship or Identity: be, seem, appear, consist, include.

• She is my friend.

• The book seems interesting.

Stative verbs are usually not used in continuous or progressive tenses (-ing form). This is because they represent states or conditions that are not seen as having a clear beginning or end, unlike actions that can happen now. Example:

• Incorrect: I am knowing the answer.

• Correct: I know the answer.

However, some stative verbs can be used in continuous tenses when they take on a different meaning. For instance:

• Normal use (stative): I think you're right. (think means "believe" here.)

• Continuous use (action): I am thinking about what to do. (think refers to the active process of considering something.)

Why Are Stative Verbs Important?

Understanding the difference between stative and action verbs is crucial for using the correct verb tenses in your writing. Using a stative verb in the wrong form, especially in continuous tense, can make your writing feel awkward or incorrect. Stative verbs allow you to describe states of mind, conditions, and abstract concepts that make your characters and settings feel more complex and grounded.

Linking Verbs

Linking verbs don’t show action. Instead, they connect the subject of your sentence to more information about the subject. The most common linking verb is to be in all its forms (am, is, are, was, were, etc.).

Example:

• Simone is terrified.

• David was a hero.

Linking verbs help describe a state of being. They don’t do anything per se, but they help your reader understand more about your character.

Infinitive Forms of Verbs

The infinitive form of a verb is its most basic, uninflected form, usually preceded by the word to. In other words, it's the "to + verb" version, like to run, to write, or to eat. The infinitive isn’t tied to a particular subject, tense, or number — it’s the raw, neutral form of the verb. Example.

• To jump over the fence was a challenge.

• She wants to learn French.

• He needs to call his mother.

There are two types of infinitives:

A Bare Infinitive: Verbs without the to (e.g., run, jump). They’re often used after certain verbs like can, should, make, and let.

• I can run fast.

• She made me stay late.

A Full Infinitive: This is the classic to + verb form.

• He hopes to travel soon.

• I want to read that book.

When Do We Use Infinitives?

Infinitives can be used in various ways:

1. As a subject. To travel is my dream.

2. As an object. He loves to dance.

3. To show purpose. She went to the store to buy groceries.

Verb Tense: Why It Matters

Tense tells the reader when something is happening: in the past, present, or future. Choosing the right tense keeps your story clear and helps your readers stay grounded in the timeline.

• Past tense: He walked to the store.

• Present tense: He walks to the store.

• Future tense: He will walk to the store.

Most fiction is written in the past tense, but some writers experiment with present or even future tense to create a unique vibe.

Helping Verbs: The Sidekicks of the Verb World

Sometimes, verbs need extra help to fully convey what’s going on. Enter helping verbs, also known as auxiliary verbs. These verbs assist the main verb in expressing tense, mood, or voice.

Example:

• Liora is running toward the ship. (Helping verb is helps express that the action is happening right now.)

• Marcus has eaten the last slice of pizza. (Helping verb has shows that the action was completed.)

Helping verbs often include be, have, and do.

The Role of Adverbs: Modifying Verbs

Adverbs are words that modify or describe verbs (er, and other adjectives, or even other adverbs, but I digress.) They give us more detail about how, when, where, or to what extent something happens. They help clarify or intensify the action or description in a sentence. Most adverbs end in -ly (but not always).

Example:

• Marcus runs quickly.

• Liora sings beautifully.

Adverbs are like the spices of your writing. But be careful—too many adverbs can clutter your sentences. Instead of saying, “He ran quickly,” it might be better to say, “He sprinted.”

Common Questions Adverbs Answer:

• How? – He ran quickly.

• When? – She left yesterday.

• Where? – They looked everywhere.

• To what extent? – I'm completely exhausted.

Examples of Adverbs:

• Modifying a verb: She quietly opened the door. (How did she open it? Quietly.)

• Modifying an adjective: The cake is extremely delicious. (How delicious? Extremely.)

• Modifying another adverb: He ran very quickly. (How quickly did he run? Very quickly.)

Types of Adverbs:

1. Adverbs of Manner – Describe how an action is performed.

   • Example: She sings beautifully.

2. Adverbs of Time – Indicate when something happens or for how long.

   • Example: We'll meet tomorrow.

3. Adverbs of Place – Show where the action occurs.

   • Example: He searched everywhere for his keys.

4. Adverbs of Frequency – Explain how often something happens.

   • Example: I always forget my umbrella.

5. Adverbs of Degree – Show the intensity or degree of something.

   • Example: The movie was really good.

The -ly Rule

A lot of adverbs are formed by adding -ly to adjectives. For example:

• Quick → Quickly

• Careful → Carefully

However, not all adverbs follow this rule. Some, like fast, hard, late, and well, are adverbs without the -ly ending.

Adverb Placement

Adverbs can be flexible regarding their position within a sentence, but their placement can affect meaning or emphasis.

• Beginning of the sentence: Quickly, he ran to the store.

• Middle of the sentence: He quickly ran to the store.

• End of the sentence: He ran to the store quickly.

Notice how the meaning stays the same in each case, but the emphasis shifts depending on where the adverb is placed.

Watching Out for Adverb Overuse

While adverbs can add important detail, overusing them (especially -ly adverbs) can make your writing feel cluttered or weak. For instance, instead of writing "She spoke softly," you might choose a stronger verb like "She whispered."

Weak vs. Strong Verbs: The Writer’s Power Move

Strong verbs are one of the easiest ways to level up your writing.

Weak verbs are the ones that don’t pack much of a punch — words like is, are, has, and does. Strong verbs, on the other hand, are more specific and help paint a more vivid picture.

Weak verb:

• She is walking to the door.

Strong verb:

• She strides to the door.

See how the second sentence feels more dynamic? Strong verbs help your writing pop.

Choosing a better verb is a component of editing and proofreading. Sure, we can say Sally walked to the door, and there’s nothing mechanically wrong with that. However, if we’re trying to paint pictures with words, we must choose the best verb to describe the situation.

• Sally sauntered to the door.

• Sally sprinted to the door.

• Sally dashed to the door.

• Sally rushed to the door.

Each of these paints a very different picture.

How can you quickly distinguish an amateur writer from a pro? Everyone walks. Everyone whispers. Everyone falls. Everyone looks. Instead of editing their work to include the most robust verb possible, they’ll repeatedly reuse the same weak verbs. Watch for it.

A Quick Tip: Watch for Passive Constructions

We’ve all been there. You’re cruising along in your writing when suddenly — bam — you hit passive voice. Passive voice happens when the subject of your sentence isn’t doing the action. Instead, the action is being done to the subject.

Example of passive voice:

• The book was read by Marcus.

Active voice:

• Marcus read the book.

The active voice is more direct, more engaging, and generally preferred in fiction. If you want your readers to feel immersed in your story, aim for an active voice.

Put It All Together: A Verb-Driven Sentence

Let’s put everything we’ve learned together into a sentence. Here’s how to use action verbs, strong verbs, and adverbs to create a sentence that pops.

Weak sentence:

• She is walking slowly toward the door.

Strong sentence:

• She drags her feet to the door, hesitating before pushing it open.

Now, that’s a sentence that moves!

Wrapping Up

Verbs are the engine of writing.

They move your characters, set the pace, and bring your world to life.

Whether choosing between action, stative, linking verbs, or deciding if you need that adverb, remember that verbs are your secret weapon for writing stories that readers won’t be able to put down.

So, what are you waiting for? Go find the vibe in your verbs.

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Understanding Nouns and Pronouns

Nouns.

The word comes from the Latin word nomen, which means "name."

It entered English through Old French as nom before evolving into the Middle English term noun. In its Latin root, nomen refers to any name or designation, which fits perfectly with what a noun does — name a person, place, thing, or idea.

Nouns are the cornerstone in the structure of a sentence; every sentence must have a noun. Every sentence needs a noun (or something that acts like one) because nouns provide the "who" or "what" the sentence is about. Without a noun, there's no subject or object to anchor the action or description — essentially, there’s nothing for the verb to "happen" to.

Types of Nouns

1. Common Nouns are your everyday, general nouns that refer to people, places, things, or ideas. They aren’t specific or capitalized. Examples: dog, city, book.

2. Proper Nouns are always capitalized and refer to specific names of people, places, or things. Examples: Fido, New York City, The Great Gatsby.

3. Concrete Nouns are things you can see, touch, smell, hear, or taste — anything physical. Examples: apple, ocean, music.

4. Abstract Nouns refer to intangible things — concepts, emotions, or ideas you can’t physically interact with. Examples: love, freedom, anger.

5. Collective Nouns are nouns representing a group of individuals or things. Even though they refer to multiple things, they’re treated as singular. Examples: team, herd, flock.

6. Countable Nouns are nouns you can count. They can be singular or plural. Examples: cat/cats, pen/pens.

7. Uncountable Nouns: These nouns refer to things that can’t be easily counted. You often treat them as singular. Examples: water, sand, information.

The Weight of a Noun

The more specific the noun, the more weight it carries. With more weight, the more convincing it is, adding credibility to the writer’s voice. What word is more attractive and interesting?

• Mountain | Cliff

• Fish | Trout

• Wind | Breeze

• Plant | Japanese Maple

• Woods | Evergreens

Frequent use of generic terms rarely inspire. They may suffice by simply conveying a broad idea but aren’t good at conveying strong, mental pictures.

Here’s a generic sentence:

The man drove the car to the place.

Now, let’s rewrite it with stronger, more specific nouns:

The firefighter raced the SUV to the fire station.

And finally, even more specific.

The firefighter raced down Broadway in a Ford Explorer to the fire station.

The more specific the noun adds clarity and weight and paints a more vivid image. The reader can now picture exactly what’s happening. The more precise the nouns, the more your writing feels grounded, authentic, and engaging. That’s its weight.

Excessive Use of Nouns

Naturally, we could go overboard.

The firefighter in the bright red Ford Explorer with the oversized tires sped past the brick fire station near the crowded intersection on Broadway to the three-story warehouse engulfed in flames.

Yeah, too much — too much! Here, I’ve created a sentence overloaded with nouns. An excessive amount makes the reader slog through a verbal bog. Instead of specifics adding clarity, the excessive use of nouns creates an overflow of information akin to stuffing my mouth with three donuts at a time.

Let’s dig deeper. Here’s that list of generic nouns drilling down into very specific nouns.

• Mountain | Cliff | Buttes

• Fish | Trout | Brook Trout

• Wind | Breeze | Gale

• Plant | Japanese Maple | Sango-Kaku (a Coral Black Japanese Maple)

• Woods | Evergreens | Norway Spruce

As a reader, I like specifics. Specifics lend more weight to the author’s voice.

Rex Thorne spurred his Mustang, urging her to race faster to the edge of the butte.

With specific words, I can paint a more vivid picture. But look at this:

Timmy cast his net into the Battle Ground Lake to catch some Brook Trout for dinner.

Hmm. A couple of issues here:

• Do Brook Trouts live in lakes?

• If Battle Ground Lake’s real (It is!), do Brook Trouts live there?

• Are nets commonly used to catch Brook Trout?

• If my story is either 1PL or 3PL from Timmy’s perspective, is he smart / wise enough to distinguish a Brook Trout from, say, a Rainbow Trout?

There’s a balance, isn’t there? To be credible, the author must select nouns appropriate for the setting and the character’s lens through which we experience the story.

Finding the Right Noun

Well, that’s our job as authors. We should look for the most specific nouns we can use in our sentences to add credibility and increase reader satisfaction. Unlike political figures, we can’t create facts willy-nilly. We must research! But we must also be faithful to the character and try to perceive the world through their lived experience.

Using Pronouns

Pronouns are words we use in place of a noun. Common pronouns include he, she, it, they, we, and you.

They’re shortcuts. Pronouns are more accessible, less formal references to the noun we’re talking about. They also serve as tools to reduce repitition. For example, instead of saying:

Sarah went to the store because Sarah needed milk.

You can say:

Sarah went to the store because she needed milk.

The pronoun she replaces Sarah in the second part of the sentence, making it flow better. It’s less … chunky … in the mouth, isn’t it?

There are different types of pronouns, like:

• Personal Pronouns: I, you, he, she, it, we, they (referring to people or things)

• Possessive Pronouns: mine, yours, his, hers, ours, theirs (showing ownership)

• Reflexive Pronouns: myself, yourself, himself, herself, itself, ourselves, themselves (used when the subject and object of the verb are the same)

• Demonstrative Pronouns: this, that, these, those (pointing to specific things)

Pronouns are great because they shorten sentences and make prose easier to read.

Abusing Pronouns

It happens all the time. The writer gets so caught up in their story that they constantly refer to their character as a pronoun rather than a name. It happens. The trick is to spot excessive degrees of pronouns and substitute an actual name to help balance out the read.

However, mechanical problems with pronouns occur frequently. Here’s an example:

Sarah told Emily that she needed to leave.

In this sentence, it's unclear who she refers to — does she mean Sarah or Emily? The reader has to guess, which can lead to confusion. This is an example of an unclear antecedent. An unclear antecedent happens when it's unclear which noun a pronoun refers to. The antecedent is the noun that a pronoun replaces, and when the connection between the two is ambiguous, it can confuse the reader.

Here’s a corrected, pretty version:

Sarah told Emily that Emily needed to leave.

And here’s a corrected, ugly version:

Sarah told Emily that she, Sarah, needed to leave.

Yuk! It’s technically correct, but it leaves a pasty sense on the tongue, right? The problem of unclear antecedent happens so frequently — so frequently — it is the number one mechanical issue I gripe about when editing or proofing someone’s draft.

Conclusion

So there you have it. Nouns. Simple things, yet kind of complicated.

Over time, writers will develop an artistic flair, using specific nouns to create a story's mood, tone, or atmosphere. Further, over time, writers will lean on specific nouns as a crutch, often (unconsciously) repeating the same detail in different works. And, over even more time, authors start to catch themselves in their repetitive noun choices, perform more research, and make adjustments. Watch for these subtle behaviors in your own writing.

R

Mastering the Basics - Spelling, Grammar, and Punctuation

You’re an author.

You are Death, Life — a Creator of Worlds — and you’ve probably a slew of ideas racing around your mind.

Plots, characters, outlines, and timelines are all thrilling parts of the writing process and may consume your waking hours, but here’s the thing.

Before captivating your readers with a well-told yarn, you must nail down the basics.

To call yourself a writer, you must write and write well.

The Tools of Your Trade

Mechanics (spelling, grammar, and punctuation) are the bricks and mortar of your enterprise. They are your paint, brushes, chisel, and hammer. Words are the foundation that holds your writing together. You use them to paint vivid pictures, carve out meaning, and build connections with your readers. Great stories crumble to the earth without a solid grasp of mechanics.

As writers, when expressing our art, words are all we have.

There is nothing else.

What you remember from your 9th-grade English class is insufficient. Language is a fluid construct and is constantly evolving. If writing matters to you, and if you want your writing to matter to others, you will continuously be honing your skills. Writers work on mechanics all their lives.

Imagine showing up for an oil painting class, and you brought charcoal to work with. Delving deeper into that analogy, imagine a writer seeking publication is akin to a painter who shows up for an advanced oil painting class and doesn’t know the difference between sgraffito and impasto, feathering, blending, or glazing. Yikes. You’ve shown up ill-prepared because you lack fundamentals, the basic techniques.

Mechanics Are Tedious — Learn to Love Mechanics

So you might say practicing and improving upon mechanics may seem less glamorous than worldbuilding and storytelling, and you might be compelled to eschew my advice, thinking Grammarly or some other wiz-bang AI tool will be the magic pill that corrects your mechanical issues for you.

I’m sorry, but you're mistaken.

There’s no such thing as a magic pill.

If life hasn’t taught you that yet, you heard it from me first.

Like all things, you’ve got to put in the work.

In his book Outliers: The Story of Success, Malcolm Gladwell says 10,000 hours are needed (at a minimum) to become proficient at a skill.

Fellow writers and publishing editors expect a writer to grasp basic mechanics. They’re the essential tools in your toolbox. Otherwise, you’re the oddball out at the party, and ultimately, this is what you’re here for. Take mechanics seriously. Others do.

So the question becomes: do you want them to take you seriously? If you do, read on. If not, stop here and reconsider why you want to be a writer. You’ve got to love this stuff. Why are you here if you’re not impassioned to define a word, spell it correctly, and use it accurately every time? Trust me, your time’s better spent doing something else. There’s little fame or fortune in this business.

What Does It Mean to Be Thrown Out of a Story

Poor mechanics are the first issues that throw a reader out of a story.

Okay, so what does that mean?

Being "thrown out of a story" means that something in the narrative disrupts the reader’s immersion, pulling them out of the world the author has created.

A jarring spelling, grammar, or punctuation error forces the reader to stop reading. If you think about it, it’s like you’re riding a train, and suddenly, the train stops.

Heck, what happened? What went wrong?

When fully engaged in reading, readers get lost in a story, picturing the scenes, feeling the emotions, and connecting with the characters. But when a mistake or inconsistency occurs, it forces the reader to stop and re-evaluate, breaking the flow of their experience.

If a sentence is awkwardly structured or a comma is misplaced, it can confuse meaning, forcing the reader to pause to figure it out. However brief, that pause is enough to snap them out of the story's rhythm. It’s like hitting a speed bump while driving; it disrupts the smooth ride and makes you suddenly aware of the road again.

Fiction aims to immerse readers in the world you’ve built. When anything feels off, it risks "throwing them out" of the narrative, making it harder to re-engage and follow along with the same level of emotional investment.

Your goal as a writer is to prevent someone from being thrown off your train.

Publishing Editors

First, publishing editors are always right.

Swallow your pride. Don’t argue. It’s their publication, not yours. Stop fighting the wind.

Second, remember the first rule.

Third, if you’ve somehow forgotten the first and second rules, remember that the principal job of an editor is to verify that work is mechanically sound. It should seem reasonable that they don’t want their readers to have an unenjoyable reading experience. Nobody will publish illegible garbage, and who has the time to clean it up for you? Nobody. Who wants to convince you to clean something up? Nobody. Right. You’re catching on. They want to make that train ride as pleasant as possible.

Now, if an editor does return your manuscript for mechanical changes (remember the rules), think of their attention as a badge of distinction. It’s easy to dismiss someone; it’s harder to work with them. The editor might see promise in your material, so they took the time to request a cleanup because they thought the work mattered. Wow! What an honor! You weren’t round-filed. You were treated (gasp) like a professional.

So return the favor — do it! Clean up your mechanics and resubmit it, and if that same editor returns it to you again, remember the rules. Just do it. They’ve taken an interest, so learn something from the experience.

Breaking the Rules

While mastering mechanics is essential, there’s a time and place for breaking the rules to create a unique voice or style. Many authors bend or abandon conventions like grammar, punctuation, and sentence structure to capture a more authentic voice or evoke a particular mood.

Think of stream-of-consciousness writing, where punctuation might be sparse or erratic, reflecting thought's fast, often disorganized nature. Authors like James Joyce and Virginia Woolf are famous for using this technique, crafting a flow that feels natural, chaotic, or intimate, depending on the narrative’s needs. By breaking away from strict mechanical rules, writers can create a raw, unfiltered experience that draws readers deeper into their world.

However, breaking the rules successfully requires intention and control. It’s not about ignoring the basics but understanding them well enough to manipulate them effectively. Breaking the rules of mechanics can enhance the story’s voice, whether through run-on sentences that mimic a character’s anxiety or fragments that create a punchy, rhythmic narrative. Authors like Cormac McCarthy, who famously avoided quotation marks, create a minimalist, stark atmosphere that complements the tone of his stories.

But be careful — it’s risky. The key is knowing when to break the rules for impact, allowing the mechanics (or lack thereof) to serve the story rather than detract from it. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and every writer, judge, and editor will have an opinion on breaking mechanical rules to capture voice.

But Style Isn’t License

Let me help you.

Stop thinking this way.

You’re not that good.

Intentionally breaking the rules of spelling, grammar, and punctuation can create a distinct and creative writing style, but it’s not a free pass to disregard these conventions altogether. Successful rule-breaking is rooted in mastery; it comes from a deep understanding of how those rules work.

When writers deliberately bend or ignore mechanical norms, they achieve a specific effect: enhancing a character's voice, building a particular atmosphere, or conveying emotion. But it can backfire if done haphazardly, without care or purpose, leaving the reader confused, frustrated, or disengaged.

Breaking the rules effectively still requires respect for their role in clarity and communication. Readers need to feel grounded in the narrative, even if it is unconventional. If the writing feels sloppy rather than intentional, it risks alienating the reader or disappointing a publishing editor.

The key is to use these deviations sparingly and thoughtfully, ensuring they serve the story. Ultimately, creative writing isn’t about chaos; it’s about balance, knowing when to follow the rules, and when to push boundaries to enhance the narrative.

The Good News

The good news? Writing is a craft, and you can sharpen these skills every day!

• Write. Every day. It should go without saying.

• Read. All the time. That should also go without saying.

• Proofread others in your writing group.

• Volunteer for a contest or peer judging.

• Make yourself available to other writers to edit their work.

• Be kind and help others.

Every piece of writing is an opportunity to refine your mechanics.

It’s like polishing the lens through which readers experience your art.

Don’t waste another minute. Get out there, write, and write well.

R

Mechanical Notation in Writing

All this month, I’ve been writing about breathing in writing and pacing: using punctuation to control how your story is interpreted. Today, I’ll be delving into mechanical notations that help the reader distinguish how to interpret a piece of text.

Mechanical notations are symbols that allow the reader to comprehend a subtext surrounding the words printed on the page. They signal your reader to interpret the words or phrases you’re about to present in a specific way.

Key Differences Between Punctuation and Mechanical Notation

Function.

Punctuation structures sentences, controlling the reading flow and clarifying the relationship between words and clauses.

Mechanical notations manage the text itself, providing additional layers of meaning, formatting, or editorial insight without altering the grammatical structure.

Usage.

Punctuation is essential to the readability and grammatical correctness of sentences.

Mechanical notations are more flexible, often adding style, tone, or clarity to specific parts of the text.

Grammatical Impact.

Punctuation directly affects how a sentence is interpreted grammatically.

Mechanical notations don’t usually change the grammatical structure; instead, they add extra information, emphasize certain elements, or provide clarity.

You’re already familiar with them, but let’s cover them just in case you might need a refresher.

Parentheses ( )

Parentheses are like whispers in your writing. It’s like I pulled you aside and included some relevant information in a quiet, confidential way. They add extra info without interrupting the flow, but beware — overuse can make your text feel cluttered. Use them sparingly to keep your writing clean and impactful.

Brackets [ ]

Think of brackets as your editorial voice. They’re great for clarifying or adding context to a quote. They’re not for everyday use, but they’re handy when you need them, like adding your own thoughts to a character’s internal monologue. They carry the weight of authority.

Curly Brackets { }

The curly brackets { } are also known as braces, and are not commonly used in traditional fiction writing, but they do have specific applications in other types of writing, particularly in technical, academic, or programming contexts. However, they can occasionally appear in fiction writing for specific purposes. Common use cases:

1. Grouping Information: In technical writing or mathematical expressions, curly brackets are often used to group multiple items together. For example, in a mathematical set: {2, 4, 6, 8}.
   

2. Programming. In computer programming, curly brackets define a block of code or group statements together in languages like C, Java, or JavaScript.
   

3. Stylistic Choices. Some experimental or avant-garde fiction writers might use curly brackets as a stylistic element. For instance, they could be used to enclose a character’s thoughts, a list of emotions, or abstract ideas to set them apart from the main narrative.
   

4. Fantasy or Science Fiction Contexts. In genres like fantasy or science fiction, curly brackets might be used to represent a special type of language, code, or communication between characters, especially if the communication is non-verbal or telepathic. Example:
   

   The alien transmitted its thoughts directly into his mind: {Proceed with caution. The enemy is near.}
   

5. Creating a Distinct Visual Effect. Curly brackets could be used to create a visual distinction in the text, perhaps to indicate something out of the ordinary, such as a magical spell, a code being cracked, or a distinct part of a manuscript within the story.

Apostrophe ‘

Commonly used for contractions (can’t, won’t) or to indicate possession (John’s book). Apostrophes help keep sentences concise and show ownership or omission. Apostrophes can also be used to make letters or numbers plural in certain contexts, such as "Mind your p's and q's" or "There are two 7's in that number."

Quotation Marks " "

Quotation marks are your go-to for dialogue and highlighting specific phrases. They create clarity and structure in your narrative by outlining when a character begins to speak and ends speaking. They are used to enclose direct quotes from another source like, according to the author, "The sky was a brilliant shade of blue." Quotation marks can be used to enclose the titles of short works like poems, articles, short stories, or songs — "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe — and sometimes, quotation marks are used to draw attention to a specific word or phrase, often implying that it is being used in a non-standard or ironic way. Example:

The "expert" writer gave incorrect advice. That guy sucks!

Exclamation Points!

Excitement in a bottle! BANG! Zing! Wow! Exclamation points are perfect for showing strong emotions. But don’t go overboard. too many, and your writing starts to feel like it’s shouting at the reader. A little goes a long way. In fact, in my opinion, avoid using them at all in narration; save them for dialogue.

Question Marks?

These are the catalysts for curiosity. They’re essential for engaging readers and keeping them hooked. Questions can drive your plot forward, but overuse can make your characters seem indecisive and wishy-washy.

Understanding these tools can elevate your writing and help you communicate more effectively. Practice using them in your drafts, and soon they’ll become second nature.

R

#WritingTips #FictionWriting #NewAuthors

The Art of Breathing in Your Writing

This whole month, I’ve illustrated how to use punctuation to control pacing through breathing in your writing.

No, I’m not talking about literal breathing — although, I assure you, that’s important, too — but rather how the rhythm of your writing controls the pace, the pauses, and ultimately, the impact of your story.

Explaining Pacing in Writing

Pacing in writing refers to the speed at which a story unfolds, guiding the reader through the narrative at a rhythm that enhances the experience.

Pacing is a crucial element of storytelling because it controls the flow, influencing how readers perceive the events, characters, and emotions in your story. It’s like the heartbeat of your narrative. Fast pacing can build excitement and tension; slow pacing allows for reflection and emotional depth.

The key to mastering pacing is understanding how to use pauses effectively. Pauses are the breaths in your writing — they give your reader a moment to absorb what’s happening and prepare for what’s next.

Pacing Ideas and Concepts

1. Pacing and Genre.

Different genres have different pacing expectations. Action-packed thrillers often have fast pacing, with short sentences and quick transitions to maintain excitement and suspense. On the other hand, literary fiction might have a slower pace, allowing for detailed character exploration and thematic development. Understanding your genre’s typical pacing can help you meet reader expectations.

2. Sentence Structure and Pacing.

One of the most direct ways to control pacing is through sentence structure. Short, choppy sentences can create a sense of urgency, making the reader feel like things are happening rapidly.

He ran. The door slammed. Silence.

This structure conveys speed and tension. Conversely, longer, more complex sentences can slow the pace, encouraging readers to take their time and absorb the details:

He ran through the darkened hallways, the sound of his footsteps echoing off the cold stone walls — the door creaked shut behind him, plunging the room into an eerie silence.

3. Pacing through Dialogue.

Dialogue can significantly impact pacing. Rapid-fire exchanges between characters can speed up the pace, especially during arguments or high-stakes situations. Pauses between lines, indicated by ellipses or dashes, can create tension and slow down the pace, making readers hang on to every word.

4. Pacing with Action and Description.

Action scenes are usually fast-paced, with less description and more direct movement. They keep readers on the edge of their seats, racing through the narrative to see what happens next. However, to prevent exhaustion, action scenes are often balanced with slower-paced sections that provide descriptive detail, character introspection, or world-building.

5. Pacing through Chapter and Scene Breaks.

Where you choose to end a chapter or scene can also affect pacing. Cliffhangers create a quick, dramatic end, urging the reader to continue. In contrast, a chapter that ends on a reflective note can give readers a chance to pause and consider what they’ve read.

6. Varying Pacing for Impact.

Effective storytelling often involves varying the pace to maintain reader interest. A story that’s too fast all the way through can be exhausting, while a story that’s too slow can be dull. By mixing fast-paced action with slower, more contemplative moments, you create a dynamic rhythm that keeps readers engaged.

7. Pacing and Reader Emotion.

Pacing isn’t just about speed; it’s also about controlling the emotional impact of your story. A slower pace can give readers time to connect with characters and feel the weight of their experiences. A faster pace can heighten the intensity of action or drama. By understanding how pacing affects emotion, you can better control how your readers feel as they move through your story.

8. Pacing and Plot Development.

Regarding plot, pacing is about deciding how quickly events unfold and how much time you spend on different parts of the story. For example, a slower pace might be used to build suspense before a major plot twist, while a faster pace might be used to rush toward the climax. Balancing these elements is key to maintaining momentum and interest throughout your story.

Controlling Pacing With Punctuation

And now, we come full circle. Ellipses, periods, hyphens and dashes, em-dashes, en-dashes, colons, semi-colons, commas, and Oxford Commas.

Punctuation marks are your best friends when it comes to creating these pauses. A well-placed comma or a thoughtful em-dash can slow down the reader just enough to highlight a crucial point or create suspense. Ellipses … linger in the moment, feeling the weight of what’s unsaid. Periods are the full stops, giving your readers a chance to take a breath and process the sentence before moving on.

The beauty of using pauses is that it gives you, the writer, control over the reader’s experience by indicating to the reader when to take a breath. You can guide them through your story at the pace you want, rushing through action scenes or slowing down for heartfelt moments.

So, don’t be afraid to experiment with pacing. Play with pauses, vary your sentence lengths, and watch how the rhythm of your story transforms.

R

The Oxford Comma: Friend or Foe?

Ah, the Oxford comma! A tiny and rather misunderstood punctuation that causes a surprisingly big debate amongst editors.

Ye Olde Oxford Comma

The expression "Oxford comma" comes from its association with the Oxford University Press, a prestigious publishing house linked to the University … of Oxford. Duh.

The association dates to the early 20th century when the Oxford University Press’s style guide (often referred to as "Hart's Rules," first published in 1893 by Horace Hart, who was the Controller of the Oxford University Press) advocated for the use of the serial comma to avoid ambiguity in writing.

People thought the name was catchy, so yeah, here we are.

The term became widely recognized because the Oxford style guide insisted on this punctuation to ensure clarity in writing, especially in complex lists where the meaning could be ambiguous without the comma.

Cool. But What Does It Mean To Me?

If you’re a new author, you’ve probably come across the Oxford comma — sometimes called the serial comma — and wondered, "Do I really need this?"

Hmmm … maybe?

The Oxford comma comes before the "and" in a list of three or more items. Example:

I packed my bags, my camera, and my notebook.

Without the Oxford comma, it reads:

I packed my bags, my camera and my notebook.

Sure, it’s a small mechanical difference, but it translates to a world of difference in clarity and meaning.

Please consider this classic example:

I’d like to thank my parents, Oprah Winfrey and God.

Without the Oxford comma, it sounds like your parents are Oprah and God. That’s pretty awesome but probably not what you meant.

By adding the Oxford comma, it becomes clear that you’re thanking three separate entities:

I’d like to thank my parents, Oprah Winfrey, and God.

Hey, look, ma — it’s a list!

Okay, Brass Tax and Donuts: What’s the Technical Difference Between an Oxford and a Regular Comma?

A “regular comma” is any comma used according to standard punctuation rules, which includes separating elements in a sentence, such as items in a list, clauses, or adjectives. An example again:

I packed my shoes, my hat and my jacket.

You use an Oxford Comma in a list of three or more items. The Oxford Comma is the comma placed immediately before the coordinating conjunction (usually "and" or "or") in a list of three or more items. Vualla:

I packed my shoes, my hat, and my jacket.

Here, the Oxford comma is the one after "hat."

It’s more readable, wouldn’t you say?

Why Use It?

Well, some style guides require it, whereas others do not.

Style Guides that Prefer the Oxford Comma:

• The Chicago Manual of Style: Strongly advocates for the Oxford comma, especially in complex sentences, to ensure clarity.

• APA (American Psychological Association): Also recommends using the Oxford comma in academic writing to avoid potential confusion.

• MLA (Modern Language Association): Prefers the Oxford comma for similar reasons, especially in scholarly works.

Style Guides that Don't Require the Oxford Comma:

• AP (Associated Press) Style: Generally does not require the Oxford comma, except in cases where its absence would lead to ambiguity. The AP style is commonly used in journalism and by news organizations.

• The New York Times Stylebook: Follows a similar approach to AP, often omitting the Oxford comma unless it's necessary for clarity.

Editor Preferences:

• Clarity and Consistency: Many editors prefer the Oxford comma because it prevents misinterpretation and awkward sentences. They see it as a simple way to ensure that a sentence's meaning is clear.

• Style Guide Adherence: Editors often follow the preferred style of the publication they are working with, so their use of the Oxford comma might be determined by the house style rather than personal preference.

• Flexibility: Some editors adopt a flexible approach, using the Oxford commas when it adds clarity but omitting them when the sentence is straightforward.

While some styles don’t require it, and it’s not a hard rule, using the Oxford comma can often save you from potential confusion.

So, should you use the Oxford comma? My opinion: you should, yes, most of the time! It’s a simple way to keep your writing sharp and your meaning clear. Plus, it’s one of those small details that can set you apart as a careful, thoughtful writer.

R

#WritingTips #OxfordComma #NewAuthors

Behold! The Mighty Comma, Colon, and Semi-Colon

For weeks now, I’ve been talking about breathing in your writing.

Pausing and waiting — bridging ideas with dashes or slowing the reader down to emphasize something, like when something dark and sinister waits for them just around the corner.

Today, we’re talking about the most common nitty-gritty punctuation tools: the comma, colon, semi-colon, and period. These little marks can make a big difference in your writing, but they can also trip you up if you're not careful.

Let’s break them down in a friendly, no-fuss-no-muss way.

The Comma (,)

Think of the comma as the humble sidekick of punctuation. It's there to help you out, making your sentences clearer and your lists tidier. Use commas to separate items in a series:

I packed my bag with a notebook, a pen, and a sandwich.

They also help when you’re linking independent clauses with conjunctions:

Yeah, I wanted to write a novel, but I decided to write short stories instead.

The Colon (:)

The colon is like a drumroll. It introduces lists, quotes, explanations, or a punchline.

She had one goal: to become a published author.

Notice how it sets the stage for something important? When using colons, make sure what comes before it is a complete sentence on its own.

The Semi-Colon (;)

Ah, the semi-colon — oh man, I love these guys! Often misunderstood yet incredibly useful, the semi-colon is a bridge between closely related ideas. Think of it as stronger than a comma but not as final as a period.

I love writing flash fiction; it allows me to tell powerful stories with fewer words.

But the semi-colon is so much more!

• Clarifying Complex Lists: When listing items that include commas, a semi-colon helps avoid confusion.

  • Example: "The conference will feature talks by Jane Smith, an author; John Doe, a publisher; and Alice Brown, a literary agent."

  • Explanation: The semi-colons separate the list items clearly, preventing misreading.

• Balancing Lengthy Clauses: A semi-colon can balance lengthy clauses within a sentence, making it easier to read. For example:

  • Example: "He traveled the world searching for inspiration; she found hers in the everyday moments."

  • Explanation: The semi-colon maintains the balance and flow between the lengthy, related clauses.

Sure, semi-colons are super cool, but they’re often abused. Some writers (ahem, is it hot in here?) fall in love with the semi-colon and start using it everywhere. This can make your writing seem choppy or overly formal. Remember, it’s a special tool — a conjoining tool — and not a default punctuation mark.

• Misconnecting Clauses: A common mistake is using a semi-colon where a colon or comma would be more appropriate.

  • Example: "I bought a new laptop; because my old one was too slow."

  • Explanation: The second clause is not independent; a comma or a full stop would be better.

• In Lists Without Internal Commas: Using semi-colons in simple lists where commas suffice can confuse readers.

  • Example: "She bought apples; oranges; and bananas."

  • Explanation: Commas would work perfectly here, and semi-colons are unnecessary.

The Period (.)

The period is the full stop in your writing. It’s the punctuation mark that brings a sentence to a close. The period is simple and powerful; it lets your readers know that a thought is complete.

Writing is both an art and a craft.

It gives your readers a clear pause and signals that you’re moving on to a new idea.

Mastering punctuation marks can elevate your writing and make your sentences breathe. But then there’s the art of bending all of these rules to create a distinct, unique voice in your reader's mind.

Stream of Consciousness

Stream of consciousness is a narrative style that attempts to capture the flow of thoughts and feelings. Writers like James Joyce and Virginia Woolf often use punctuation creatively to mimic the inner workings of the mind, like:

• Long, run-on sentences: To reflect a character's unfiltered thoughts.

  • Example: "She walked along the beach feeling the wind in her hair and the sand beneath her feet and the sound of the waves crashing and the seagulls calling."

• Minimal punctuation: To create a sense of immediacy and immersion.

  • Example: "The night was dark and the road was long and her heart was heavy and she kept walking and walking and walking."

Ellipses and Dashes

Ellipses (…) and dashes (—) are powerful tools for creating pauses, breaks, and interruptions in dialogue and narrative. They can convey hesitation, suspense, or a sudden change in thought. For instance:

• Ellipses: Indicate a trailing off or an unfinished thought.

  • Example: "I just don't know if I can…"

• Dashes: Create emphasis or an abrupt shift.

  • Example: "She reached for the door — and stopped when she heard the noise."

Lack of Punctuation

Some writers, like Cormac McCarthy, are known for their sparse use of punctuation. This minimalist approach can create a unique, rhythmic prose that feels raw and immediate. For example:

• No quotation marks in dialogue: To blend dialogue with narrative seamlessly.

  • Example: "Are you coming with me he said She shook her head No I can't"

• Sparse commas and periods: To maintain a steady, flowing pace.

  • Example: "He walked through the desert the sun beating down the sand stretching endlessly"

Innovative Uses of the Semi-Colon and Colon

Writers like George Orwell and Kurt Vonnegut have used semi-colons and colons to great effect, creating emphasis and rhythm in their prose. For example:

• Semi-colon for dramatic effect:

  • Example: "He knew what he had to do; there was no other choice."

• Colon for emphasis:

  • Example: "There was one thing she feared most: failure."

Breaking the Rules for Voice

Sometimes, breaking punctuation rules can help convey a character's unique voice or the tone of a narrative. For example:

• Using commas for breathless narration:

  • Example: "And then, she ran, faster than she'd ever run before, because if she stopped, even for a second, it would all be over."

• Capitalization for emphasis:

  • Example: "He realized then that THIS was the moment he'd been waiting for."

Short, Stabby Sentences

And, myself, I’m a fan of the short, stabby sentence to create a sense of tension and drama. It’s the volleyball spike to end the game.

I’ve said enough.

Punctuation is a tool, and like any tool, its effectiveness depends on how you use it. By understanding and occasionally breaking the rules, you can craft prose that is uniquely yours, adding depth and emotion to your writing. So go ahead, experiment — breathe, and let your unique voice be heard!

R

#WritingTips #NewAuthors #PunctuationPower

Mastering the Ellipsis

Okay! The last time around, I walked you through using em-dashes in dialogue. This week, we’re still on the concept of pausing, but we will discuss the ellipsis.

An ellipsis, or ellipses in the plural, is a punctuation mark of three dots. It generally represents an omission of words or leaving something unsaid. It’s a hesitant or dramatic pause in dialogue, a trailing off, a natural conversational element.

You’re familiar with it. It looks like this: (...) unless you agree with the Chicago Manual of Style (CMOS), which suggests it should look like this: (. . .) — three dots separated by spaces.

“Jenny, there wasn’t a time where . . . I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

Did you catch the preceding space between ‘where’ and ‘I’m’? Yeah, that’s also CMOS. Coincidentally, CMOS also says there shouldn’t be a space when ending with punctuation. Here are some funky CMOS examples:

This ellipsis … is in the middle of a sentence.
This one is at the end. … Note the space after the period.
A comma precedes this ellipsis, … with similar spacing.
What do you mean? … More of the same.
But when punctuation follows …, close it up to the ellipsis.
Is that wise …? We think so.

Even more confusing, some word processors auto-transform an ellipsis into an ASCII character.

Mechanically, an ellipsis can capture hesitation and pause perfectly in dialogue. For example:

"Well, I thought we could go to the park . . . if you want."

See how it leaves the sentence hanging, inviting the reader to fill in the blanks? It's a subtle way to add depth to your characters and their interactions.

It’s a Trap!

That said, too many writers fall into a common trap: abusing ellipses.

Sure … it sounds natural … but when recreating … the sound of speech in their heads … the writer creates an abundance of pauses … that translates to too many dots on the page … or … becomes a truly lazy way … to connect sentences. Sometimes, you trail off for no reason …

It's easy to get carried away, but too many ellipses can make your writing seem fragmented and your characters overly hesitant or unsure.

It’s Clutter!

When I read a passage in a book, I don’t want to trip over things left on the floor, step around objects, or take a running jump to get to the conclusion of a paragraph. Ellipises are white noise gaps that don’t need to be present in every paragraph, thought, or monologue.

It's like cursing or too many exclamation marks — less is often more.

It’s Tedious and Trite!

Whether you’re writing for contests or not, I presume you want your writing to stand out. You don’t want it to feel amateur or stumbling, or, howdy-hum-dum boring. So, here’s my advice: don’t.

1. Avoid using the ellipsis.

2. If you must, use it very sparingly, and only in dialogue.

3. When using it in dialogue, imagine your character placing their thumb against their chin and staring thoughtfully out into space. Then, consider, Jedi: Is that the pause you’re looking for? Would an em-dash, comma, or semi-colon be more effective?

When writing a narrative, ellipses can indicate a time jump or an unfinished thought. They create a sense of mystery or suspense, but again, use them sparingly. A well-placed ellipsis can add intrigue, but overdo it, and your readers or a judge might find it distracting.

So, what's the takeaway? Use ellipses to enhance your dialogue and narrative, but don't rely on them too much. Keep your writing clear and concise, and your readers will thank you.

R

How to Use Em-dashes in Dialogue

The other day, I wrote about how em-dashes differ from commas and last week, I wrote about the distinction between em-dashes, en-dashes, and hyphens.

Today, let’s talk about how to use em-dashes in dialogue.

If you're new to writing or just looking to refine your skills, this little punctuation mark can add dramatic emphasis to your characters' conversations.

Interruptions and Cut-offs

One of the most common uses for em-dashes in dialogue is to indicate interruptions or cut-offs. It shows that a character’s speech is abruptly stopped by someone else or by an event.

• “I don’t think you should —”

• “No, you listen to me!”

Notice that’s not a hyphen (-), and, in this case, the em-dash clearly shows that the first character was cut off mid-sentence.

Sudden Changes in Thought

Em-dashes are also great for showing a character’s sudden change in thought or self-interruption. This can make your dialogue feel more natural and spontaneous. For instance:

• “I was just thinking — oh, never mind. It’s not important.”

Here, the em-dash adds a realistic pause, giving the impression of a natural, off-the-cuff conversation.

Adding Afterthoughts or Clarifications

An em-dash can introduce an afterthought or clarification, making the dialogue feel more natural and spontaneous:

• “He’s my brother — my half-brother, actually.”

Adding Emphasis

Sometimes, a character might want to emphasize a point or add an afterthought. An em-dash can help you achieve this:

• “I swear I saw it — a ghost, right there in the hallway!”

The em-dash highlights the dramatic reveal, adding a punch to the dialogue.

Creating Suspense

An em-dash can be used to create suspense by cutting off a character’s speech right before an important reveal:

• “I know who the killer is — it’s —”

Introducing a Sudden Realization

Use an em-dash to show when a character suddenly realizes something mid-sentence:

• “We could always — wait, did you hear that noise?”

Correcting Oneself

When a character starts to say something and then corrects themselves, an em-dash can help illustrate this shift:

• “We should meet at the — no, wait, let’s go to the café instead.”

Emotional Outbursts

We can use an em-dash to denote surprise and heightened emotional states:

• “I can’t believe you did that — how could you betray me like this?”

Give it a try. Experiment with em-dashes in your dialogue. They can add a lot of depth and realism to your characters’ conversations.

R

#WritingTips #DialogueMagic #NewAuthors

An Em-dash vs. Comma: What's the Difference?

Hey!

Last week, I wrote about the distinctions between an em-dash, an en-dash, and a hyphen.

But if you’re a budding writer and want to polish your prose, you've probably encountered a tedious mental debate: When should I use an em-dash instead of a comma?

These two punctuation marks can change the rhythm and clarity of your sentences, so let's explain them in a friendly, easy-to-understand way.

The Em-Dash (—)

The em-dash is like a sudden breath in your writing. An interruption. It creates a dramatic pause or an abrupt change in thought. It's longer than a hyphen and a bit more versatile. Use it to add emphasis or to insert additional information that you want to stand out.

The cake — a triple-layer chocolate masterpiece — was the highlight of the party.

Here, the em-dash makes the description pop, giving it extra weight and attention.

Also, you may wonder if there should be a space between the first and last words in an em-dash. In the previous example, you see I added an extra space between “cake” and “a,” and “masterpiece” and “was.”

Most American style guides, like The Chicago Manual of Style and The Associated Press (AP) Stylebook, recommend using em-dashes without spaces.

The cake—a triple-layer chocolate masterpiece—was the highlight of the party.

However, some style guides, especially in British English, recommend using spaces around em-dashes.

The cake — a triple-layer chocolate masterpiece — was the highlight of the party.

Ultimately, consistency is key. Pick a style and stick with it throughout your document. For most American English writing, it’s standard to use no spaces around em-dashes. The big takeaway is to do as you please but be consistent — avoid drawing attention to inconsistencies.

The Comma (,)

The comma, on the other hand, is the everyday pause of punctuation. It provides a gentle pause, helping to clarify the structure of your sentences and separate elements. Use it to list items, separate clauses, or add slight pauses in your writing. It indicates to the reader, “When to take a breath.”

The cake, a triple-layer chocolate masterpiece, was the highlight of the party.

In this sentence, the commas offer a smooth, flowing pause, giving the reader time to digest the information without any dramatic flair.

When to Use Which?

The key difference lies in the impact you want to create. Use an em-dash when you want to emphasize or highlight something important. It’s perfect for adding a bit of punch to your prose. Use a comma when you need a subtle, less interruptive pause. It’s ideal for keeping your writing clear and easy to follow.

Abusing the Em-Dash

Oh, good sir, nothing infuriates me more.

It’s totally possible to overuse the em-dash just like any other punctuation mark. While the em-dash is a powerful tool that can add emphasis, drama, or a sudden change in thought, relying on it too much can make your writing seem choppy or overly dramatic.

Here are a few ways em-dashes can be overused:

Overemphasis

Using em-dashes too frequently can dilute their impact, making every sentence seem overly dramatic or important, which can tire the reader.

Lack of Variety

Good writing often requires a mix of punctuation marks to create rhythm and flow. Overusing em-dashes can make your writing feel monotonous or one-note.

Confusion

Too many em-dashes can confuse readers, making it harder for them to follow your train of thought or understand the structure of your sentences.

Example of Overuse

The cake — a triple-layer chocolate masterpiece — was the highlight of the party — and everyone agreed — it was the best they'd ever had — even better than the bakery's famous cookies — which were also delicious.

Example of Balanced Use

The cake — a triple-layer chocolate masterpiece — was the highlight of the party. Everyone agreed it was the best they'd ever had, even better than the bakery's famous cookies.

Alternatives to Em-dashes

To avoid overuse, consider mixing in other punctuation marks:

• Commas for slight pauses and lists.

• Colons for introducing lists or explanations.

• Semicolons to link closely related independent clauses.

• Parentheses for adding supplementary information without the dramatic flair of an em-dash.

By mastering these tools, you'll be able to control the pace and tone of your writing, making your stories even clearer and more engaging. Rock on.

R

#WritingTips #PunctuationMatters #NewAuthors