We’ve all seen authors use favorite words, expressions, or writing habits over and over — and over. Habit, perhaps. No thesaurus — or imagination. A personal schtick. So the reader gets to a point where every time we come across it, we wince. [A favorite mystery author of mine often uses a character’s full name in usage. So through an entire book, instead of John, Smith, Mr. Smith, Johnny-boy, etc., we get John Smith, every single time. I hate it] Variety is the spice of life and relieves the reader from repetition.
But what is good in some cases may not be so good in others. Writers often are not unaware of that, and the solution for many is to compulsively avoid reusing words, going to the exact opposite extreme. This can result in confusion and irritation, and can also strike the reader as just hilariously bad writing. And it is more common than you think.
UPDATE: I found another really good example when realizing that most writers are guilty of this with characters, and sometimes things, but almost never place names. I came up with one purely as an example of what it might look like. My imaginary author is writing a story that takes place in Paris. This author is one of the ones who hates being repetitive and will go out of his way to repeat a name. To him, a location is no different. He writes and publishes his story. Now, imagine you are reading it. It takes place in Paris, so you expect the city to be named fairly often, at least when important. Instead, you read Paris a few times. But what you get instead is this: He walked through France’s capital. or They found it romantic in the city of love. Perhaps you will read about how in the city of light, there is always a café open. Just when you are rolling your eyes, you get to They have lived in the country’s second-largest city for years. or alternatively They have lived in this historical city for years. All because they can’t stand the idea of using the word Paris a couple of dozen times in a 100k manuscript. Instead, the use the word “city” a hundred times!
Below, I work with two more examples. Both are abuse of changing words to avoid repetition. The main culprit they are avoiding is repeating names — characters, animals, and sometimes locations. Such writers use characters’ physical attributes, their job attributes, gender, and many other ways of referring to a character without using their name.
EXAMPLE ONE:
The blond man answered the phone. The tall man answered the phone. The surfer answered the phone. The man answered the phone. Writers are afraid to just say, Bill answered the phone. There’s no rhyme or reason for it. In these cases, the modifier has nothing to do with the action in question. Zero. Basic rule of writing: if the modifier has nothing to do with the action, don’t use it. His being blond, or tall, or a surfer, likely has nothing to do with his answering the phone or the conversation that will happen. If those details do matter, that is different of course. An adverb could instead be used, such as Bill answered the phone quickly or Bill answered the phone in a relaxed manner, which gives information as to his emotional state or the urgency at that moment. But that too can be overdone. At the end of the day, why not just use the name? And if you modify it, make it relevant. A trembling Bill answered the phone. Which presumably is proceeded or followed by what is making him nervous, thus it makes sense.
Why do writers do this? They like to change it up, so they aren’t boring themselves. That is what is really going on. Not fear of boring the reader, but of boring themselves. It is lazy, it stands out to the reader, and it can be horribly confusing. The examples above are part of this phenomenon, as the writer avoids just repeating the name Bill (or his pronoun) over and over.
EXAMPLE TWO:
Repetition avoidance can be more than just silly. It can actually be confusing to the reader, as they flip back and forth through the pages, trying to remember where they read who was a teacher, so that the sentence The teacher stalked out of the room, without a more immediate reminder, makes sense. It is important for writers to remember they are far more familiar with details of their own story and characters than the average reader, even ones actively reading at that moment.
Below is a sample situation that is written out three different ways in three paragraphs. First, though, is some background that was probably provided within the pages of the story somewhere, but not in this scene; you must have prior awareness or memory of these details or know where in the story to find them. Kostica is a blue dragon/human hybrid who will be conversing shortly with two humans, an unarmed diplomat named Marika and a warrior named Taryn. All three are female. [This scene is abbreviated, leaving out some details unimportant to this example, and all dialogue, also unimportant for this exercise. The three examples are deliberately over the top to make a point.]
The first paragraph uses the names constantly, to the point that the writer and readers are irritated and, yes, bored. The second paragraph is the writers who fall into the variety trap and remove all traces of names, going for modifiers, the opposite extreme. Readers can’t understand what is being written because there is no clarity. And even inexperienced readers know bad writing when they see it. The final paragraph, like Goldilocks, is basically perfect. It is what all writers should aim for. Some variety (key word: some. not a lot.) while losing no clarity of meaning or reference.
FIRST, THE OVERUSE OF NAMES PARAGRAPH: Kostica made tea and biscuits for her upcoming guests. Kostica changed into her dragon form before the guests arrived. Marika and Taryn entered. Marika’s golden hair reflected the sun as they entered the cave. Taryn stepped behind Marika and immediately unslung Taryn’s bow and heavy sword from her own shoulders. Taryn sighed in relief. Kostica settled onto a giant pile of hay as Marika hungrily grabbed some biscuits. Not particularly hungry, Taryn sipped tea sparingly. The three conversed about some important points. Kostica agreed with much that Marika and Taryn said, but Kostica was angry at other things. Marika argued with many of Kostica’s stances, while Taryn, in a good mood, agreed more with Kostica than with Marika. Marika left feeling unhappy, but Taryn left feeling positive about the meeting. Kostica decided to take a wait-and-see attitude.
Yes, this is deliberately extreme, for two reasons. First, this is what the writer is thinking in their heads, making sure they know who is doing and thinking what. That makes sense. It may never be written to paper like that and if so, is just an early draft. Second, variety-prone writers’ perceptions of how often they use the names is almost always greatly exaggerated: They see their writing as the paragraph above, even if it is nothing like that. If the story actually read like this, it would be irritating and boring. However, it does make sense: You know who is doing or thinking what. But nobody wants to read this, so the writer applies the Law of Variety. Only they go overboard, to the opposite extreme. They change a few instances of names to pronouns (always problematic, especially here where all three are the same gender). The rest of the names are changed to modifiers. NOTE: As stated above, these modifiers are mentioned somewhere in the story, but the left out detail in this scene does not include anything that would make the modifiers easy to understand. Here is a repeat of the sentences with the changes.
SECOND, THE OVER-RELIANCE ON MODIFIERS IN PLACE OF NAMES PARAGRAPH: The dragon made tea and biscuits while still in her non-dragon form and then changed into her non-human form before the guests arrived. The guests entered. The golden-haired woman’s hair reflected the sun as they entered the cave. The warrior stepped behind the girl and immediately unslung her bow and heavy sword from her shoulders. She sighed in relief. The oldest settled onto a pile of hay, as the unarmed diplomat hungrily grabbed some biscuits. Not particularly hungry, the armed woman sipped tea sparingly. The three conversed about some important points. She agreed with much the others said, but the scaly beast was angry at other things. The diplomat argued with the blue animal a lot. But the aggressive woman agreed with her more than with the official. The blonde left feeling unhappy, but the taller visitor was feeling positive about the meeting. The fire-breather decided to take a wait-and-see attitude.
If you are unable to understand what just happened, don’t feel bad. No one else would either. Writers do this sort of thing and know what they mean, and don’t see the confusion or silliness from the point of view of the readers. And yes, this is also extreme. But I cannot stress this enough: I have seen very similar examples. It is problematic on many fronts. Several more pronouns are added, and because they are all female (and all “she”), these pronouns need to be added carefully and sparingly to avoid confusion. As written, the reader struggles to identify which “she” is which. Then there are the modifiers. Having not read the full story, you know who the dragon, the diplomat, and the warrior are because I told you up above. Had I not, you wouldn’t have any idea who is whom. It isn’t explained in the narrative, it is just used. [To be fair, in an entire story, you probably would know by now, unless all the characters are making their entrance here.] And look at the effort to avoid names. Kostica is the dragon, non-dragon form, non-human form (and doesn’t that sound silly and confusing in the sentence that uses those), “she”, the scaly beast, the blue animal, and the fire-breather. Marika is the golden-haired woman (and later girl, so which is she?), the unarmed diplomat, the official, and the blonde. Taryn is the warrior, the armed woman, the aggressive woman, and the taller visitor.
Why refer to these three in so many different ways? You may think you are avoiding boredom from your reader, but you’re only avoiding boredom in yourself. I assure you, you are irritating the reader, who must now keep track of someone who is non-dragon while human, and human when she’s a dragon. Who must now keep track of whether Marika or Taryn is the blonde (like hair color even matters to this diplomatic meeting, or eye-color, or height, or most other modifiers used here). Who must figure out who is the girl and who is the woman–and when they realize its using both for a single person, they become more irritated, because a girl and a woman are not really interchangeable terms. And if a reader can’t figure out who is who among all the “she’s” and “hers”, or can’t remember who is in what business, lots of luck in figuring it out. Reading this excerpt has now become confusing, which subtracts from enjoyment.
As for hair or eye color, not only have needless modifiers been added which help cause confusion, they aren’t even always the same thing, i.e. synonyms. Gold hair and blonde hair might well evoke different things in readers’ minds. They are slightly different shades of the same general color. I’m reminded of Twilight author Stephenie Meyer, who used at least a dozen dissimilar synonyms for Edward’s eye color. Dissimilar, because yellow, gold, amber, ochre, freesia, etc. are all different shades, not true synonyms. And Meyer is one of the worst at overuse and incorrect use of modifiers.
Now let’s try this paragraph one more time. This time, we will use names and pronouns, and the occasional modifier without it being silly or overdone, and with total clarity of meaning. A couple of things have been moved or added for better clarity, as well, plus a tiny bit of variety. NOTE: There are many ways to accomplish this paragraph; what is below is just one.
THIRD, THE HAPPY MEDIUM PARAGRAPH, CHANGING A FEW INSTANCES WHILE STILL LEAVING TOTAL CLARITY. While in her human form, Kostica made tea and biscuits for her two upcoming guests, but for comfort she switched to her dragon form before those visitors entered the cave. Her guests arrived. First came the unarmed diplomat, Marika. Her golden hair reflected the sun as she entered. The warrior, Taryn, stepped out from behind Marika and immediately unslung her bow and heavy sword from her shoulders, sighing in relief. The dragon settled onto a pile of hay, as Marika hungrily grabbed some biscuits. For her part, Taryn wasn’t particularly hungry and sipped tea sparingly. The three conversed about some important points. Kostica agreed with much of what her guests said, but she was angry at still other things. Marika negotiated with her over a few points, but Taryn found herself agreeing with Kostica more than she did the diplomat. When they left, Marika wasn’t terribly happy, but the warrior was feeling positive. As for Kostica, she decided to take a wait-and-see attitude.
In this final example, it is very clear who is saying and feeling what. There is no confusion. Names are used, but not enough to be grating. Pronouns are used, but not enough to be confusing. Modifiers are used, but not enough to send readers flipping the pages to find the right references. That doesn’t mean the paragraph couldn’t be better written. It is here to demonstrate three ways of writing the exact same thing.
The point of this post is to get my readers to understand that clarity trumps flowery writing for the sake of variety. Your readers will thank you. Don’t avoid the names, and don’t rely on physical descriptors (which require the reader to remember who has what color eyes, hair, height, age, etc) or what the person does for a living (which is easier to remember, but not always). And don’t go insane over pronouns without being very clear who is whom (especially when there are two or more of the same gender, species, career, etc.). Keep it relatively simple. And the more characters and the more action, the simpler one should keep it.