Kill Your Darlings
Any writer can put words on a page or a screen. But good
writers know which ones to kill.
Let’s look at five realms of redundancy.
Bureaucratic Speak: Here’s an example from a British
government report. “What I have said has demonstrated that it is very difficult
to find an answer to that question, but if pressed for an answer I would say
that, so far as we can see, taking it rather by and large, taking one thing
with another, and taking the average of departments, it is probable that there
would not be found to be very much in it either way.” How about, “It’s a
toss-up”?
Dead words: Words that are fine in speech kneecap our
writing: Very (I once had a student use “very” fourteen times on one
page), really, actually, etc.
Email: What could be cut in this exchange?
·
I’ve attached the agenda for tomorrow’s
meeting.
·
Thanks.
·
You’re welcome.
·
We’ll talk more then.
·
Sure.
·
Look forward to it.
·
Me too.
·
Take care.
·
And you.
Will someone strangle those two?
[I don’t text, so I am spared the horror of those
individuals who feel compelled to send a “like” to every text they receive.]
General Bloat [not to be confused with Major Disaster,
Corporal Punishment and certainly not Private Parts]: Some examples, with
possible solutions:
·
in the event that = if
·
regardless of the fact that = though
·
under the circumstances in which = when
Personal Bad Habits: We all have words with which
we’ve fallen in love, our darlings. They serve as default fillers when we’re
not writing thoughtfully. When I’ve finished a draft I’ll follow the writing advice
of whoever said “kill your darlings” (apparently Arthur Quiller Couch) and
launch a search and destroy mission against simply, just, and indeed.
Down with needless redundancy!
[300 words]
