The Devil's Writing Admonitions
Below are a list of words and phrases which the thoughtful writer ought to use only with great care.
- Very.
Adding very to verbiage is like adding water to whiskey. If a word doesn't have the kick you crave, dig around the cabinet until you find something stronger.
Instead of… Try… Very bad Horrendous Very horrendous Horribile dictu Very horribile dictu Maxime horribile dictu Very Maxime horribile dictu Bad - Perhaps the best…
A favorite technique of literary critics, this conditional superlative. It lends the writer—any writer, really—an air of authority along with a perfume of humility. Perhaps the greatest short-story writer using English. Perhaps the best novel of its kind. The phrase begs to be quoted on dust jackets and in “Praise For…” prologues, but few realize that Perhaps the best is really short-hand for “I've seen it mentioned in print on several occasions and can't think of any other examples.”
If you must use such vague hyperbole, you should at least delineate the extent of your knowledge:
Perhaps the best author in the language… in the opinion of this college-educated writer who regularly reads the New York Times Book Review.
Perhaps the best young novelist of his generation… assuming he says the same about me on my book-jacket.
Perhaps the greatest poet of 17th century England… although to be honest I didn't know he was 17th century or English until I looked it up online.
Perhaps the finest lines in all of literature… but I should say that English isn't really my “thing” and I'm taking this class on a pass-fail basis, and also I don't know any foreign languages.
- Enormity.
Unless you are referring to items on the McDonald's Super Size menu, it is incorrect to use enormity to describe something's magnitude. Enormity means “The quality of passing all moral bounds; excessive wickedness or outrageousness.” If you want to use a fancy word to describe a vast extent, refrain from enormity and instead use a word such as:
- Largesse
- Hugesse
- Bigitude
- Magna cum laude†
† only if your reader is classically educated
- Brunch.
Emily Post:
“Do not give encouragement to that single-headed, double-bodied deformity of language, ‘brunch.’ The word is an ungracious one which furthermore has a hurried lunch-wagon suggestiveness…” (Etiquette: The Blue Book of Social Usage, Ninth Edition, p. 489)
And Emily Post is right: brunch sounds like a meal that is dirty and quick, and whose participants probably pass the salt without the pepper and eat their eggs with ketchup. Instead of sullying your diction with the word brunch as if you were writing on a cheap napkin yanked out of a spring-loaded dispenser, I recommend merging lunch and breakfast into a graceful term that lacks such vulgar connotations: Leakfast.
- Up shit creek without a paddle.
A crude and tired colloquialism. Vague, too: does the phrase refer to a feces-rich tributary, or is it actually a proper noun written Shit Creek, and if so, where is this creek? Is it truly unnavigable without an oar?
If you must use such a juvenile trope to describe a dire predicament, try a fresh variation such as:
- Up shit tree without a ladder
Or:
- On shit steed without a saddle
Or:
- Atop Shit Peak without a camera
Or, for maximal effectiveness:
- Riding shit steed up Shit Peak for the purpose of climbing shit tree, but without a ladder, saddle, or camera!
- Quantum physics, Heisenberg uncertainty principle, Schrödinger's cat, etc.
Unless you are writing about quantum physics, avoid connecting your subject to quantum physics. You may think you are being profound, but in all probability you are badly informed. This admonition applies to physicists and English majors alike, but it applies ten-fold if you are writing about:
- Free will or consciousness
- Buddhism or eastern religions
- Modern art or World War I
Quantum physics is difficult to understand, and statements such as “The guns of August shattered the non-existent dice of Einstein's God” or “The Buddha understood the implications of Heisenberg better, in fact, than Heisenberg himself” will confuse, if not your reader, then certainly whomever your reader likes to discuss ideas with (spouse, co-workers, dentist, etc.).
Instead of describing physics you don't understand, try exploring the link between your subject and an easier sub-discipline of physics, such as:
- The speed of light
- Microwave ovens
- Remote controls (excluding so-called “universal” remote controls)
- Baking-soda volcanoes
Can Zen Buddhism be reconciled with microwave oven technology? Do baking-soda volcanoes count as modern art? Am I deprived of free will when I can't find the remote control? These are all very interesting essay topics which merit further exploration, and by avoiding quantum physics you avoid the risk of sounding like a moron.
- Niggardly.
Racially charged. Fortunately, the English language is rich with synonyms for niggardly, so instead of...
- He has acted most niggardly with regard to our financial dealings.
Try...
- That bastard jewed me down to peanut shells and cracker jacks.
Or...
- Can you believe it? I got gypped out of last week's payola and this week's lunch money!