crispina kemp

I’m reading the final book in an 8-book series, and to be this far through a series you know I’m enjoying it. Except for one niggly detail. The choice of a word.

And that word sparked this week’s post.

Annoying words

What was that annoying word?

Jog, which in this book alternates with trot, and that’s as bad.

Problem is, these joggers and trotters aren’t keep-fitters, or horses. They’re spaceship crew hurrying to their various stations. They don’t rush, they don’t dash. Or fly. They don’t hasten. They jog. Or trot. It makes me think of joggers jogging along a suburban street. For me it doesn’t work in the given situation. It kicks me out of the story every time I encounter it. But I’m a great fan of the writer, and it’s a strong plot with believable characters, so I stick with it despite the author’s annoying word choice

While on the subject of word choice, let’s look at the words that editors and writing gurus consider troublesome

Redundant words

Examples:

• Sit down.
• Stand up.
• Free gift
• Added bonus
• Close proximity
• Armed gunman
• True fact
• Past history
• Plan ahead.
• Run quickly.
• Unintentional accident
• Absolute certainty
• Advance warning
• Audible click
• Divide it up.
• Early beginnings
• End result

[Interesting to note that WP wanted to correct my word list!]

I’ve lifted these examples from Collins Good Writing Guide, 2003. It’s a massive tome that’s proven invaluable to me. It contains everything a writer needs to know, from punctuation to grammar to untangling confusing words, and more. Reading my own work, I can see that I often ignore it. Nobody’s perfect.

Apart from the fact these words aren’t needed, a writer’s use of these redundant words (pleonasms) snaggles the reader’s eye and slows the pace. Worse if the reader is as pedantic as me for it’ll kick them right out of the story. Bye-bye reader.

Strangely, few of those ‘writing craft advisors’ I’ve so far encountered on You Tube mention pleonasms as something to be avoided despite most of them are editors. They’re more focused on demonising weak words

What are weak words?

Words that do nothing to aid the reader’s understanding of the prose despite the writer might believe them essential. But isn’t that what pleonasms are?

Adverbs fall into this category, although no one denies that some adverbs are needed. Example already given is run quickly. How about shout loudly? Whisper quietly?

As you can see, these adverbs are redundant – as are most adverbs, but not all.

Then there’s what I’d call fluff words.

In fiction writing, these include repetitive descriptions, repetitive ruminations, repetitive dialogue. Repetitive anything.

I could continue, ad infinitum, being boringly repetitive. But I respect my readers.

Let’s move on to another class of words that all conscientious writers are strongly advised to remove. Filter words.

What is a filter word?

It’s any word that stands between the reader and the protagonist. Examples:

• She could smell the smoke.
• His mouth felt like the bottom of a budgie’s cage. His fault for overindulging last night.
• She heard the bells ringing far too loudly.
• Too late to avoid her, he saw her coming towards him.

They’re sensory words. And they’re lazy words.

To rephrase:

• She sniffed the air. Was that wood smoke, or a barbeque?
• He grimaced at the foul grittiness that lingered in his mouth. His fault for overindulging last night.
• She slammed her hands over her ears. Those bells were far too loud this morning.
• He glanced around for an easy escape. Too late, she’d already seen him.

But hey, I hear you say, that’s the long way of doing it. Oh yes, so it is. It’s showing, not telling, and it draws the reader tight into the protagonist’s world. Immersive.

Additionally…

Weak verbs v strong verbs

Example:

• The writer is advised to get rid of the weak passive voice and replace it with the active voice.
• Following the advice given, the writer replaced the weak passive voice with an active verb.

The passive voice robs the protagonist of his agency, makes him the victim and often requires the word ‘by’.

• It was a tradition that every year the 10-acre field would be scythed by the farmer’s eldest son.
• It was a tradition that every year the farmer’s eldest son would scythe the 10-acre field.

While on verbs, I’d like to add this one…

Imperfect tense

In other words, to be + ing verbs.

Examples:

• He was racing. She was smiling. He’s thinking.
• He raced. She smiled. He thinks.

Getting rid of to be + ing not only reduces wordcount better than a weightwatchers diet but speeds the reading.

Rhythm

Apart from ramping up the wordcount, and annoying pedantic readers (me), thus losing readers, what is wrong with these weak words and filters that they must be demonised?

We could say pacing. But rhythm is the more accurate word.

Rhythmic prose draws the reader in. No stumbling, no trudging, the reader glides. It is a beautiful thing. I’ve heard it called poetic cadence. And so it is.

In conclusion

Despite how certain writing gurus phrase those shalt nots and shall do’s highlighted in this post, none can be counted as a hard unforgiveable rule. They’re guidelines, no more than that.

There are times when a weak verb tops a strong verb, when an adverb is essential, and when a filter IS required. For clarity. For rhythm. Used with intentionality for the greater pleasure of our reader.

I thank you for reading.

What words annoy you when reading? As always, I’m happy to receive your comments 💖