My current list of “words to check for”

Every writer has (or should have) one of these. You know you have nervous tics when you write. You know you’re going to repeat yourself and use the same word four times in three consecutive sentences. You know you’re going to use the word “just” eight hundred million times in any work, because “just” is the American fnord.

I started with a list of words from Self-Editing For Writers but as time has gone on, I’ve kept adding to and improving the list to make it much more about my writing. You may have a completely different list of tics in your own writing that you need to be aware of oh please god yes become aware of them now please please.

Here is my current list of words I have to do a search on to make sure I really want to use them. NSFW.

Am, is, are, was, were; also: there is/was/are/were

Using any form of the verb “to be” probably means you’re using a weak and passive construction, possibly in the dreaded and must-be-avoided-at-all-costs-unless-you’re-absolutely-sure passive voice.

I was walking versus I walked.

She was angry versus She stabbed the mo’fo in the face with a swordfish.

As with everything, there’s a place for it. Just make sure it’s the best verb for the job.

God, goddamned, Jesus, Christ
Shit, fuck, dammit, hell, and the other deadly seven

I am all for swearing and blasphemy in writing (and everywhere else, in fact). If those are the proper words to use at that moment. Swearing and blasphemy, even for atheists, are powerful words, to be used as weapons, and they definitely sting the reader every time they’re used. If they get used constantly, with no sense of their rhythm or power, I interpret that as the writer having lack of imagination, rather than being “edgy.”

Also, no two people swear alike. Make sure your characters are the same way.

Look

Writers tend to overuse the sense of sight. “She looked at him.” “He looked at the bag of guns.” “They looked at the flock of doves.”

Possibly, simply, really, totally, very, supposedly, seriously, terribly, allegedly, utterly, sort of, kind of, usually, extremely, almost, mostly, practically, probably, quite

So many writers have heard “Don’t use adverbs!” and don’t understand why. Because they’re weak, that’s why. They’re a shorthand way of getting the emotions of the scene across without doing some work.

-ing, -ly

After I’ve done all the big adverbs (above) I check for these. -ing verbs (gerunds) tend to weaken whatever they’re describing, which is great if that’s what you want. I was kind of thinking maybe we could go out sometime? versus You. Me. Here. Now. Floor. There’s a place for both of these.

Likewise, -ly adverbs need to argue their case. There’s probably a stronger and more visceral way of describing what’s going on than a nice, safe adverb.

Suddenly

On the “check this twice” list not only because it’s an adverb but because it’s very hard to make things happen suddenly. When things happen suddenly in real life, they’re terrifying and disorienting — what’s happening? What am I supposed to be doing?

When they happen in prose, they often aren’t happening suddenly (making use of this word a total lie). Or worse, they do happen suddenly throwing not only the character into confusion but the reader too. Whenever something happens suddenly in a novel and I’m disoriented, I often stop reading.

It’s either a case of using the completely wrong word…or disorienting the reader. Or I can rewrite the section involving “suddenly.”

Just

The “fnord” of American writing. It’s sprinkled through unedited prose like white space. I lost two pages out of a ninety-thousand word novel by doing a hunt-and-kill on “just.”

(I skimmed that Wikipedia entry and discovered a whole bunch about “fnord” I didn’t know or remember. The only part I remembered about it was “children in grade school are taught to be unable to consciously see the word “fnord”.”)

Well, oh, and, like

Boring. They’re boring in dialogue, they’re boring in narrative. Any character who says “Well” had better use it consistently (ie, they’d better be the only one who says it) and it had better be a nervous dialogue tic they have to telegraph they’re about to lie or something.

Actually, very, seemed, about

Boring! And more boring!

Moment, pause

Wait, why are we waiting? For anything? And if we are waiting (say, having a moment’s pause after fighting a dragon or something), I shouldn’t have to tell anyone about it. It should be obvious from the heavy breathing and crying and application of burn ointment.

Murmur

Murmuring is hard. Murmuring is damn near impossible. Murmuring is one of those things that happens only in novels. Avoid murmuring. At the very least, avoid it twice in the same book.

Smile, grin, nod, shake, sigh, glare, smirk

I lean on these action tics a lot. Sometimes they seem to be the only way my characters react. One thing they all have in common: they’re all face-centric. They’re boring, they’re overused, and they’re not enough. Not using them forces me to figure out some other ways to show how character reactions.

Actually, I don’t use “smirk” very often — that’s one of the words that annoys the crap out of me when I read it, so I want to make sure I hunt it down and kill it in my own writing.

“going to be” –> “will”

Why am I taking three words to say what one will? No, thanks, I am aware that it’s not a one-to-one substitution. But oftentimes I do a search on “going to be” and I find about thirteen better ways to phrase whatever it is I’m trying to say.

Pretty

The word “pretty” is extremely boring both as an adjective or an adverb. Your eye simply glides over the word. Why would you bother saying “She was pretty”? What does that even mean? Does that give you a mental image?

Pretty as an adverb is right up there with very. It doesn’t add anything. I was pretty tired versus I was tired. I am reminded of Mark Twain’s advice about using the word “very”:

“Substitute “damn” every time you’re inclined to write “very”; your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be”

(The way I usually phrase this is: “Use damn instead of very. It sounds better and the editor’s going to strike it out anyhow.” Same for “pretty.”)

Starting sentences with “And”

Why? Seriously, why? Yes, there are times when “And” adds something to the rhythm of the sentence. Not nearly as often as many writers seem to think, however. Make that “And” fight you for its very survival.

Starting sentences with “But”

See also: starting a sentence with “And.”

There’s another, deeper psychological reason not to use “But” at the beginning of a sentence, which is the same reason you should think twice about using it in real life. Whenever you use the word “but,” you are negating everything that came before. For example: “I think your latest manuscript was great, but adding kangaroos would make it edgier.” Let’s be honest, you have zero idea of what the person said after the word “but.” All that came through is that they really didn’t like your latest manuscript. The word “but” is dangerous. Avoid in real life, man.

“Of course” (particularly at the start of a sentence)

Waste. Of. Words. The characters had better not be telling us something we already know.

Things beginning (began, begun) or starting (started, start) instead of actually happening

Stop wasting time! Don’t have things starting, have things happening! Oy!

Your/you’€™re

For obvious reasons. Yes, check every single damn one.

It’€™s/its

For obvious reasons. Yes, check every single damn one.

Their/there/they’re

For obvious reasons. Yes, check every single damn one.

Lose/loose

Seriously? I don’t have this problem. Suck it, internet. Why is telling these words apart such a problem? These words sound totally different. They mean totally different things. What is your damned problem? Stop confusing them.

“€œI realized”

As with all things, this is fine in moderation. It’s when my characters realize something every other paragraph, rather than just, y’know, tell us about it, that I have a problem.

Honey

I found one of my characters was saying this all of the time, to lots of different characters. Unless “inability to remember names” is a plot point, this is annoying. Also, in real life, people don’t use people’s given names that much when talking to one another. They shouldn’t do it in novels, either.

Interesting

The worst word in the English language. Never use this.