Avoiding Repeated Words

Too many repetitions of the same word in a short space, such as within a single paragraph or even withing a single sentence, can be distracting to your readers and throw off the flow of your prose. Take a look at the following example:

     The wall was too tall to climb, but only just; it was short enough to seem climbable but tall enough that a fall from anywhere near the top would kill you. Raek studied the wall carefully and realized that the top of the wall was covered in a slimy-looking green moss that would make climbing impossible. But if he couldn't climb it, how would he get over the wall? The wall was between him and the chalice. He had to get past the wall.

Notice how the words "the wall" get repeated over and over again? Six times in one paragraph. Some variation of the word "climb" appears four times as well. It feels awkward and clunky.

No matter how good the word is, too much will make your readers sick. Don't be a Trunchbull.

Cleaned up, that paragraph might look like this:

     The wall was too tall to climb, but only just: it was short enough to seem scalable but tall enough that a fall from anywhere near the top would kill you. Raek studied the wall carefully and realized that the top was covered in a slimy-looking green moss that would ensure that anyone clinging to the rock would lose their grip. But if he couldn't climb the wall, how would he get over? It was between him and the chalice; he had to get past.

This version is smoother, with just three uses of "the wall" and two of "climb."  Some of the repeated words were removed by heavily re-writing the sentence, some were simply not necessary to begin with and could be removed without changing anything else, and others were replaced with synonyms ("scalable" in place of "climbable").

That final method, using synonyms, is one of the easiest ways to avoid repetition:

     The manor loomed above her, at least three stories tall. The entire edifice was wreathed so thickly with crawling ivy that it was difficult for her to tell what the manor was made out of.

In this example, we've used edifice in place of manor in one spot, to avoid using the word "manor" three times in two sentences. The variety of descriptive words helps the prose to flow more smoothly.

The same thing can be done to avoid repeating a character's name too often. Take this example from Brandon Sanderson's Mistborn (emphasis added):

     "Fears?" Kelsier asked, turning to look up at Sazed. Despite Kelsier's above-average height, the Terrisman was still a good head taller. I'm not sure if he fears anything, Saze."

Notice how the author avoided repeating Sazed's name by referring to him as "the Terrisman." It is the same method of avoiding word repetition.

Some cautions:

Don't use too many synonyms

In the example above, we used edifice in place of manor. Here are a few other words we could possibly have used: building, structure, dwelling, residency, or mansion. But if you look at that example again, you'll notice that I chose to use the word "manor" twice rather than replace it with one of these words. Why?

Too many synonyms can become confusing to the reader; it becomes difficult for them to keep track of what they all refer too.  It also calls too much attention to the fact that you're trying to avoid repeating yourself, which can pull the reader out of the story. Usually, you don't want to use more than one synonym for a given word in a section. So in the first example, I might have described the manor simply as a building when the characters were far away and still approaching it. Then, when they have drawn close and I am describing the manor's appearance, I use manor and edifice, but no more than that. 

Make sure that it is clear what your synonym refers to

Another hazard of using synonyms is that they are not always as clear as the author thinks. We'll take the example of manor again. The Merriam-Webster dictionary lists the following words as synonyms for the word "manor":  castle, chateau, estate, hacienda, hall, manor, manor house, manse, palace, and villa.

The problem with most of these words is that they evoke a completely different image than the word "manor."  Take this example:

     Amy was relieved to finally leave the manor behind. As they drove away, she turned and looked out the back window as the palace vanished behind the trees.

That didn't work at all, did it? Using palace almost made it sound as though there were two buildings, as if Amy left one building and is now looking at another. Don't use synonyms unless it is clear what they're replacing.

One more caution on using synonyms as placeholders for a character's name (as in the Mistborn example above) can be found in this post.

Repetitive Sentence Structures

Many writers tend to prefer certain types of sentences over others. It’s not usually a conscious preference. It’s simply a particular format or type of sentence that comes naturally to a writer, one that they tend to use frequently because it is comfortable and instinctive. But it is possible for repeated use of similar sentence formats to make prose dull and repetitive. 

This is similar to the problem covered in this post, only now we're talking sentence structure instead of length. Here’s an example:

     Smiling, Raul opened the door to the house. With a gasp, Yasmin stepped inside, staring at the transformed entryway. Rose petals covered the floor and brilliant glass lanterns hung in rows from the ceiling. Taking her hand, Raul led the way along the rose-petal path.

There are four sentences in this example, and three of them follow a similar format: short opening phrase, comma, and the rest of the sentence. Try reading that out loud; it gets tiring, doesn’t it?

Which four-course meal looks more appetizing?
Sentence structure is like food; variety is usually preferable to repetition.

There is no hard and fast rule as to how much is too much when it comes to repeating sentence formats. Sometimes a paragraph can function just fine with several sentences of a similar style; other times, even just two similar sentences in a row will be too much. But it is safe to say that the more complicated the format of a particular sentence, the longer you should wait before using a similar format again.

The tricky thing about this problem is that it will be different for every writer. The sentence formats that come most naturally to me won’t be the same as the ones that come naturally to you. This makes it a bit harder to spot, since I cannot give you specific structures to look out for.

As is often the case with hard-to-spot problems, your best bet for this one is to gather together some discerning readers and ask them to keep an eye out for this problem. Reading your prose out loud will also make this problem easier to catch.

Once you’ve identified a repetitive passage, it will usually be pretty easy to fix. Here’s an edited version of our example above:

     Smiling, Raul opened the door to the house. Yasmin stepped inside with a gasp, staring at the transformed entryway. Rose petals covered the floor and brilliant glass lanterns hung in rows from the ceiling. Taking her hand, Raul led the way along the rose-petal path.

Simple, right? In this case, we only needed to alter one sentence to make the passage read more smoothly. Remember: repeated sentence structures grow bland and tiresome—try to get in the habit of varying things up regularly.

P.S.

Okay, I was wrong—I remembered one specific type of sentence structure that tends to get repeated frequently which you should look for. 

Be careful to avoid beginning a series of sentences with the same pronoun (or its possessive form). For example:

     Raul dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach. He didn’t know what was causing it, but he suddenly felt like he was going to vomit out entire organs. He crawled slowly into the bathroom. His muscles spasmed with the pain, slowing him. He groaned with the effort of moving. Finally, he reached the toilet. He lifted the lid with shaking hands and positioned his head over the bowl, but nothing came out.

See the problem? That paragraph had seven sentences; four began with the word “he” and one began with an introductory phrase followed by “he” as the subject. Plus, the second sentence was a compound sentence with “he” as the subject of the second portion and the subject of the embedded clause at the end. That’s seven phrases beginning with “he” across seven sentences. Keep an eye out for any series of sentences that all begin with the same pronoun.

Saying Things Twice

A common signifier of not-yet-professional writing is an author who consistently says things twice. This doesn’t mean that they repeat themselves verbatim; it means that they say something, and then they re-state it in a different manner. For example:

     Walking fast, she hurried to the door.

That’s rather redundant, isn’t it? We’re told that she’s “walking fast,” and then we’re told that she “hurried.” Those are basically the same thing. This sentence should just be shortened to “She hurried to the door.”

If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you know why redundancy isn’t a good trait for your writing to have. If you don’t know, here’s a link to the many posts that touch on redundancy and its negative effect on writing. To put it shortly: redundancy wastes your readers’ time and insults their intelligence.

This is a real line from an actual manuscript.

Here’s some more examples:

     “Turn in your badge and gun now,” I ordered, holding out my hand.

     Detective Mullens cursed under his breath. Reluctantly, he complied, handing me his badge and his gun.

See the repetition? First, we’re told that Mullens “complied.” Since we just read the order he was complying with, we know that this means that he handed over his badge and his gun. But then the writer goes ahead and tells us that’s what he did, anyway.

     “Okay, I’ll see you at noon tomorrow,” Julia said. She made a note of the meeting, writing it down in her planner.

Same situation—“made a note” and “wrote it down” mean the same thing. One of those phrases should be cut.

Now, you may remember the common writing advice “Show, don’t tell.” This novice writer’s habit of saying things twice often comes about because the author chooses to show and tell. Here’s an example that one of my teachers once pointed out in my own writing:

     For most people, the view from the lighthouse would have been very impressive. But Hero had seen far more than most people. He simply yawned and leaned against the railing.

First I told my readers that Hero had seen more than most people, and then I showed that through his actions. You are all smart enough to read between the lines if I simply show you:

     For most people, the view from the lighthouse would have been very impressive. Hero simply yawned and leaned against the railing.

Bam. Gone is the redundancy, leaving behind tighter, more efficient prose. All I needed to do was trust my readers to be smart enough to understand what I was showing them.

Another example:

     “Thank you for your help,” Jane said. She smiled, her expression happy.

Boooo. We all know that a smile is a happy expression, right? No need to re-state it.

Pictured: A Happy Expression

You all get the picture. Next time you’re editing, keep an eye out for any spots where you might have said something twice. When you find them, ruthlessly eliminate the redundancy.

Phrases to Avoid: "For a Moment"

While all of the examples of flawed prose that I give on this blog are taken from manuscripts that I have edited, I generally swap out significant words and make other alterations as necessary to ensure that none of the examples could be identified as coming from a specific work. The form of the sentence (and thus its flaws) are intact and still useful, but I have no desire to single out or cast aspersions on any specific authors.

Today, however, is an exception. The examples will be unaltered from their original form and I will identify the author . . . because the author was me. Yeah. While going over a short story that I wrote a while back, I came across this persistently-repeated problem, one that I have corrected in numerous manuscripts but which still managed to crop up in my own writing.

This problem is the phrase “for a moment” and several similar words and phrases that indicate that an action or event lasted for only a brief duration. Not every instance of this phrase will be bad, but look at these examples:

     For a moment, the wolf was silent and motionless. Then it began to growl softly.

     Vanya froze, staring at the bird. After a moment, it pulled its head from beneath its wing, revealing its shining jet-black eyes and beak.

     Vanya considered the offer briefly. “All right, I’ll get you some fruit.”

     The king studied Vanya for a moment with a bushy eyebrow raised. Then he shook his head.

     The wolf seemed to consider the matter for a moment and then shrugged its shoulders slightly.

     For a moment, he thought that he saw a figure in the shadows of the draw, but it was gone when he tried to look closer.

In each of these examples, the phrase “for a moment” and its variations are redundant. They either describe an action that is normally momentary by nature or they explain that an action is momentary when the fact that the action is followed by another action already implies that. Look at each of those examples again with the “for a moment” removed.

     The wolf was silent and motionless. Then it began to growl softly.

     Vanya froze, staring at the bird. It pulled its head from beneath its wing, revealing its shining jet-black eyes and beak.

     Vanya considered the offer. “All right, I’ll get you some fruit.”

     The king studied Vanya with a bushy eyebrow raised. Then he shook his head.

     The wolf seemed to consider the matter and then shrugged its shoulders slightly.

     He thought that he saw a figure in the shadows of the draw, but it was gone when he tried to look closer.

See how much stronger those become without “for a moment”? Wherever possible, remove this and similar phrases from your writing.

Note that “for a moment” isn’t always bad—sometimes, it’s simply the best way to indicate an action’s duration. Here’s some uses of it from the same story that weren’t so bad:

     Vanya didn’t believe for a moment that the fox had magical powers of any sort.

     The firebird looked surprised and then suspicious, but after a moment it began to devour the fruit with delight.

In the first example, the use of “for a moment” is justified by it being used in a very common phrase—“he didn’t believe for a moment that . . .”

In the second example, the phrase adds a beat to the sentence, a pause between the firebird’s being suspicious and its beginning to eat the fruit, that would not remain if the phrase were removed. The pause is important because it gives a realistic pacing to the firebird’s mood shifts and actions, and so the phrase is justified.

Go ahead and search through your manuscripts for the words “moment” and “briefly.” Try removing each instance of these words; if the sentence still reads smoothly without them, then they were redundant and should probably be removed.

Avoiding Synonyms in Adjective Pairs

Language has a natural flow and rhythm that can be difficult to understand and master. Even when we don’t realize it, this rhythm influences how we construct sentences and what words we choose. For instance, there have been many times where I used two adjectives instead of one simply because the sentence felt better with two.

     Dima was exactly what she’d been looking for—a clever and entertaining performer

instead of

     Dima was exactly what she’d been looking for—an entertaining performer.

You’ve probably had similar experiences. It is very difficult to define why the rhythm of a sentence can be improved with an extra word or two, but it is a tangible and important element of sentence composition.

I’m not going to try to break down the mechanics of sentence rhythm today (if ever, for that matter—that’s a difficult subject!), but I do want to point out a problem that frequently arises when writers adjust sentences for better rhythm. It appears most often in cases like the example I gave above, when writers include an extra adjective in a sentence. Here’s some examples:

     Lucy was always happy and cheerful.

     He’s so quick and speedy.

     You need to be sweet and kind to the patients.

     Look, I’m too tired and sleepy to think this through right now, okay?

What is the point of including two adjectives if they both mean essentially the same thing? It’s redundant and repetitive; and if you’ve been reading this blog for long, you know that we don’t like redundant repetition here.

This pops up in the work of almost every unpublished author I’ve ever edited. If you have two adjectives to describe one thing, make sure they’re not synonyms! Otherwise, there might as well be only one word. Don’t waste space saying something twice when you could be using that precious space to give your reader a deeper, more textured glimpse into the nature of this character, setting, or object.

Which do you think will be more vivid: a costume in crimson red and cardinal red, or a costume in red and blue?

Now, it’s possible to have two adjectives together that are very similar but still technically different:

     The building was dark and shadowed.

     His demeanor is just so serious and grim.

     We have to be smart and clever.

     I think she’s fun and entertaining. 

How similar is too similar? That’s a call you have to make yourself. Personally, I recommend playing it safe and keeping such adjective pairs as different as possible. But if you really feel that the distinction between “dark” and “shadowed” is important and that your audience needs to know that this object or person is both, then go for it. Give it to some readers and see if they understand the distinction (without you having to explain it). If they’re not getting it, then you should probably go for some words that are less similar. If they get it, then you’re golden.

"Looking With Eyes"—Avoiding Redundant Description

Here are some sample sentences from works I've edited:

1. Derek surveyed their surroundings with his cloudy gray eyes.
2. She kissed the envelope with her full lips, leaving a bright red lipstick mark behind.
3. He grasped the sword hilt in his shaking hands.

What's the problem here? Take a moment to look again.

The problem is that each of these sentences contains an awkward, redundant phrase. In example one, the phrase "with his cloudy eyes" is unneeded—how else would someone survey their surroundings, after all? In the second example, of course she kissed "with her full lips." That's the body part that kisses. In example three, we already know that he's grasping with his hands, so telling us that is redundant and unnatural.

So why do writers do this? If you'll look at our example sentences, you'll notice that each of the named body parts is preceded by an adjective: cloudy eyes, full lips, and shaking hands. These adjectives are the reason the authors included the redundant phrase. 

In example one, for instance, Derek is being introduced to the audience for the first time. The author wanted the readers to know that his eyes were a cloudy gray, but didn't simply want to say "Derek's eyes were a cloudy gray."  And that was a good goal—this is a more interesting way to find out what the character looks like—but you can usually do better than an otherwise-redundant phrase.

Here are some examples of how these sentences could be reworked.

Make the body part the subject of the sentence: Just about every sentence needs a subject, after all, so it's unlikely to be redundant.

1. Derek's cloudy gray eyes surveyed the surroundings.
2. Her full lips kissed the envelope, leaving a bright red lipstick mark behind.
3. His shaking hands grasped the sword hilt.

Give the body part something else to do: Add a phrase or sentence that further describes the action of the original sentence.

1. Derek surveyed their surroundings; the blinding light made his cloudy gray eyes water.
2. She kissed the envelope. Her full lips left a bright red lipstick mark behind.
3. His hands shook uncontrollably as he grasped the sword hilt.

Try to work the adjective in somewhere or somehow else: This can be the trickiest solution, but also often the most subtle and graceful.

1. Derek surveyed their surroundings. Lina studied his eyes; they were intense and focused as he searched, the same cloudy grey as the water beneath the boat.
2. She kissed the envelope, leaving behind full red lipstick marks.
3. He grasped the sword, trying to keep the point from wavering. It didn't work.

P.S.

Remember that specifying that a character performed an action "with" something is fine if it wasn't clear how the action was performed. For instance:

He sliced the steak with a worn shark-tooth knife.

This is a fine way to describe the knife. It's not redundant because there is more than one tool for slicing steak, so it's natural to explain what the character is using to slice.

Variety in Dialog Tags: What to Avoid

We discussed the two schools of thought on dialog tags last time; today we'll go over the kinds of dialog tags you should avoid. These fall into three classes: grandiloquent, repetitive, and non-dialog.

Grandiloquent

Grandiloquent means "overly high-minded, pompous, or pretentious, especially in language," and it is a condition that afflicts many new authors. My preferred term for this behavior is highfalutin. 

The amount of grandiloquence you employ should vary depending on what you're writing. If you're working on a very flowery, "literary" type of story, then you'll want to be a little more eloquent, as florid prose is a hallmark of that genre. In any other genre, however, you'll generally want to ensure that your prose calls as little attention to itself as possible—you want your readers to almost forget that they're reading and simply absorb the story, which they can't do if they have to stop and think over highfalutin language.

Here are some grandiloquent dialog tags that I often see crop up in novice writing:

"Dialog," he opined. < Just use said.

"Dialog," she queried. < asked, unless maybe the character is a computer.

"Dialog," I ruminated. < reflected, remembered, or recalled could all work here. 

"Dialog," it pontificated. < said, lectured.

"Dialog," John soliloquized. < said or reflected, depending on the context.

The line between being precise with your word choice and being too highfalutin is very fine—generally, I recommend leaning toward simpler language if you're ever in doubt.

Repetitive

Novice writers have a tendency to repeat themselves, and one way that they do this is often in dialog tags. Take a look at the following example:

"Welcome to the Nodsdown Fair!" the young woman greeted.

Here, the tag greeted is redundant—the dialog itself already made it very clear that the woman is greeting someone. The tag is only there to let us know who is speaking, so said would be more efficient here. Some other frequently-repetitive tags are cursed, pontificated, lectured, greeted, rambled, hinted, joked, agreed, elaborated, and explained.

Now, you might have noticed that some of those words can be found on my list of possible tags from the last post. Sometimes these words aren't redundant, and sometimes they are. It's an even finer line to walk than the grandiloquent line. Just be on the lookout for any redundant tags in your writing, and when in doubt—err on the side of simple.

Non-Dialog

The final type of dialog tag to avoid is tags that don't actually describe the manner in which the dialog was spoken. Take this example:

"I think I can do that," John smiled. "Give me the stick."

Smiled doesn't actually describe the dialog—you can't smile words. This kind of construction usually arises from writers who are trying to cut out extra words and go a little too far. Cutting out excess words is good, as long as the remaining words still accurately state what they're intended to. Our example can be rewritten in several ways:

With dialog tags:
"I think I can do that," John said, smiling. "Give me the stick."
"I think I can do that," John said with a smile. "Give me the stick."

Without dialog tags:
"I think I can do that." John smiled. "Give me the stick."
John smiled. "I think I can do that. Give me the stick."

Some other words that I often see used as tags which don't actually describe the dialog are: nodded, shrugged, blushed, snorted, and ground (as in "he said while grinding his teeth").

(I'll also mention laughed, coughed, scoffed, chuckled, gasped, sobbed, grunted, and cried. These can be acceptable, as they describe the sounds coming out of a character's mouth simultaneous to the dialog. No, we don't actually laugh words, but we can speak while laughing. But try to use these sparingly.)


I also want to place special emphasis on my personal, most-hated non-dialog dialog tags:

"Dan here couldn't hit a baseball if it was the size of a pumpkin!" Mike jabbed.
"Maybe I should practice with your head," Dan returned.

I hate "jabbed" and "returned." Don't use them, not ever. They fall into both the repetitive and the non-dialog categories; what's worse, they always tend to be attached to back-and-forth teasing that isn't nearly as clever as the author wants to believe it is. Please do not use these words as dialog tags.

P.S.

Many authors use the word sang to mean "shouted jubilantly." While this usage is not uncommon, it can be a little confusing; after all, it is possible to literally sing words. I recommend avoiding it.

Crowed can be used to mean the same thing, and I don't like it. There's nothing technically wrong with it; that's mostly just me.

Using Synonyms to Avoid Repetition

Previously, we discussed the need for avoiding the too-frequent repetition of words, and mentioned that you can use synonyms and descriptive words to this end. For example:

• The manor loomed above her, at least three stories tall. The entire edifice was wreathed so thickly with crawling ivy that it was difficult for her to tell what the manor was made out of.

In this example, we've used edifice in place of manor in one spot, to avoid using the word "manor" three times in two sentences. The variety of descriptive words helps the prose to flow more smoothly.

The same thing can be done to avoid repeating a character's name too often. Take this example from Brandon Sanderson's Mistborn (emphasis added):

• "Fears?" Kelsier asked, turning to look up at Sazed. Despite Kelsier's above-average height, the Terrisman was still a good head taller. I'm not sure if he fears anything, Saze."

Notice how the author avoided repeating Sazed's name by referring to him as "the Terrisman." It is the same method of avoiding word repetition.

Some cautions:

Don't use too many synonyms

In our first example, we used edifice in place of manor. Here are a few other words we could possibly have used:

Building

Structure

Dwelling

Residency

Mansion

But if you look at that example again, you'll notice that I chose to use the word "manor" twice rather than replace it with one of these words. Why?

Too many synonyms can become confusing to the reader; it becomes difficult for them to keep track of what they all refer too.  It also calls too much attention to the fact that you're trying to avoid repeating yourself, which can pull the reader out of the story. Usually, you don't want to use more than one synonym for a given word in a section. So in the first example, I might have described the manor simply as a building when the characters were far away and still approaching it. Then, when they have drawn close and I am describing the manor's appearance, I use manor and edifice, but no more than that. 

Make sure that it is clear what your synonym refers to

Another hazard of using synonyms is that they are not always as clear as the author thinks. We'll take the example of manor again. The Merriam-Webster dictionary lists the following words as synonyms for the word "manor":  castle, chateau, estate, hacienda, hall, manor, manor house, manse, palace, and villa.

The problem with most of these words is that most of them evoke a completely different image than the word "manor."  Take this example:

• Amy was relieved to finally leave the manor behind. As they drove away, she turned and looked out the back window as the palace vanished behind the trees.

That didn't work at all, did it? Using palace almost made it sound as though there were two buildings, as if Amy left one building and is now looking at another. Don't use synonyms unless it is clear what they're replacing.


One more caution on using synonyms as placeholders for a character's name (as in the Mistborn example above) can be found in this post.

Avoiding Repetition

Too many repetitions of the same word in a short space, such as within a single paragraph or even withing a single sentence, can be distracting to your readers and throw off the flow of your prose. Take a look at the following example:

     The wall was too tall to climb, but only just; it was short enough to seem climbable but tall enough that a fall from anywhere near the top would kill you. Raek studied the wall carefully and realized that the top of the wall was covered in a slimy-looking green moss that would make climbing impossible. But if he couldn't climb it, how would he get over the wall? The wall was between him and the chalice. He had to get past the wall.

Notice how the words "the wall" get repeated over and over again? Six times in one paragraph. Some variation of the word "climb" appears four times as well. It feels awkward and clunky. Cleaned up, that paragraph might look like this:

     The wall was too tall to climb, but only just: it was short enough to seem scalable but tall enough that a fall from anywhere near the top would kill you. Raek studied the wall carefully and realized that the top was covered in a slimy-looking green moss that would ensure that anyone clinging to the rock would lose their grip. But if he couldn't climb the wall, how would he get over? It was between him and the chalice; he had to get past.

This version is smoother, with just three uses of "the wall" and two of "climb."  Some of the repeated words were replaced with synonyms ("scalable" in place of "climbable"), some were removed by heavily re-writing the sentence, and others were simply not necessary to begin with and could be removed without changing anything else.

Now, sometimes repetition can be used to great emotional and poetic effect; but unless you're very confident in your use of it, you should avoid it as much as possible.


P.S.

This is one of the reasons I recommended that you avoid dialog tags as much as possible in this post. Dialog tags can get overly repetitive very quickly.