3 tips on word choice
Advice from an Editor #1
Novel in the Middle has been slumbering most of the year, but I have not been idle. Plans were in the works.
Today I am thrilled to announce a new addition to the blog: “Advice from an Editor.” This will be a continuing series written by my friend and colleague Bethany Lenderink, who happens to be a professional editor at a major publishing house. I’m so excited to add her voice to this site, especially as someone who has insider knowledge and deep personal experience.
“Advice from an Editor” will cover a number of the most common issues plaguing the novels that cross Bethany’s desk. My hope is that these tips may help you to avoid some of the pitfalls on your way to publication.
Bethany is also serializing her fantasy novel on Substack, for anyone interested.
JH
A writer’s eternal conundrum is word choice. Which word is interesting enough to capture readers’ attention? Which word feels most appropriate for this action scene? Did I describe his dark hair as “ebony locks” or “raven-colored locks”? (I’m looking at you, romance writers.)
Word choice is important because as writers, we’re not just building a scene. We’re setting a tone. We’re hinting at themes. We’re attempting to evoke a very specific response in our readers, and not just any words will do the trick.
But the problem is this: Picking a good word and picking the best word are different things, and as writers, we should always strive to pick the best word. Unfortunately, the more time we spend in a story, the more the line between good and best gets blurred, and eventually we lose the ability to be objective. Compound this with bad writing advice (“don’t use the passive voice;” “said is dead;” “you already used that word, pick another one”), and we’re faced with an epidemic of poor word choice.
Part of my job as an editor is helping my authors find the best words. Let’s take a look at the most common mistakes I see when it comes to word choice.
1: Creative Word Choice vs. Confusing Word Choice
I want to be clear about something: The purpose of a creative word is to tell readers exactly what you mean, not to confuse them further. Here’s an example—one I see far more often than I should: “I love you,” he susurrates.
What does susurrate mean? “A whispering, murmur.”1 You might notice that the Merriam-Webster Unabridged dictionary (which is the preferred dictionary of several publishers), doesn’t actually recognize susurrate as a word. That’s because according to the dictionary, susurration isn’t used as a verb. It’s a noun, meant to be synonymous with a whisper or a murmur. It’s most often used in literary fiction, lyrical essays, and poems to describe the sound of the wind moving through the grass or the gentle trickle of a brook.2
Yet, in at least one book a month, I see an author use it as a verb, meant to be an alternative choice for whispered or murmured.
If your word pulls readers out of the story, it’s not the best word.
Is it a creative word? Sure, if you consider creative to be synonymous with verbose. But the issue isn’t necessarily with the creativity; it’s with the confusion. A lot of your readers aren’t going to know this word. If they do, odds are that they know it by the traditional definition, not as a dialogue tag. Whatever the case, the word generates confusion, and its purpose shifts from providing a creative synonym for “whispers” to interrupting the narrative. And if your word pulls readers out of the story, it’s not the best word.
The best word is going to describe exactly what you mean and maintain the flow on the page.
2: Synonyms are almost never an exact match
This is the second most common mistake I see writers make. Many writers believe that two different synonyms mean exactly the same thing, but the reality is that even if the dictionary definitions match, dictionaries leave out a crucial element to the meaning of a word: connotation.
What is connotation? Connotation is the idea or feeling a word invokes in addition to its literal definition. Connotation, when utilized correctly, is what creates the tone of your writing. Let’s look at some examples.
Saunter vs. Stroll
Saunter and stroll are words I frequently see used interchangeably. Both mean to walk in a casual, leisurely manner. However, saunter has a connotation of arrogance or cockiness. You see a lot of male main characters in romantasy novels sauntering about. Someone who saunters does so with confidence (and probably a smirk, if we’re sticking with the tropes), and their almost lazy gait has had romantic heroines swooning for decades.
Stroll also means to walk in a casual, leisurely manner, but it lacks the same arrogance as a saunter. We see people in Victorian novels strolling through gardens and gentle old ladies in contemporary fiction strolling through their neighborhoods. Someone who strolls might do so with their hands in their pockets, whistling a happy little tune. They take in the sights and smells around them. To stroll is to walk with the intention of stopping and smelling the roses.
Pay attention to what your body does when you’re reading a sentence.
Pungent vs. Aromatic
Pungent and aromatic are also synonyms. Both mean to smell strongly of something. But while pungent implies a bad smell, aromatic makes us think of freshly baked bread or a field of flowers. Describe a woman’s perfume as aromatic and your readers will imagine their favorite scents. Describe it as pungent and we wrinkle our noses in discomfort.
I’ve found the best way to tell the difference is to pay attention to what your body does when you’re reading a sentence. How you feel and react physically can clue you in to the connotation your words have. Just remember, synonyms are almost always approximate, but rarely exact, matches.
3: It’s okay to repeat words
One of my authors refuses to use the same word twice on a page. In her historical fiction novels, many of the characters own horses, but they will never be called horses twice in a row. In one sentence it’s a horse, in the next it’s a stallion. Further down the page it’s a roan, and further still it’s a mustang.
Here’s the issue. A stallion is an intact, domesticated male horse. A roan is a horse with a distinct pattern mixing white and colored hairs in its coat and could refer to a male or a female horse. A mustang is a wild male horse. Three words. Three very distinct meanings. And all of them being used to refer to the same horse.
In creative writing classes, we’re often told to vary our word choice. I don’t disagree with this advice, but I do believe it often harms more than it helps. It’s good to vary word choice in the same way it’s good to vary sentence structure. We don’t want to read, “Sally swung at him with her sword and missed. She turned and swung her sword again, this time catching his arm. Then she swung again, her sword cutting deep into his stomach.” It’s boring. But we also don’t want to read, “Sally swung at him with her sword and missed. She turned and swung her rapier again, this time catching his arm. Then she swung again, her scimitar cutting deep into his stomach.” Because suddenly we have three very different blades in this paragraph, and now we’re questioning how many arms Sally has, to be able to fight with all three.
The best way to vary word choice is often to remove the word altogether. So the paragraph above becomes, “Sally swings at him with her sword. He ducks out of the way with a curse. She presses forward and tries again, this time catching his arm. As he tries to back away, she lunges and drives the blade into his stomach.”
See the difference? We have three different verbs for three different movements, and instead of throwing random swords into the mix, all we had to do was describe what part of the sword did the damage, because all swords have blades.
This is probably going to take more conscious effort on your part. I’ve found it’s helpful to write out exactly what I want to say without paying attention to varied word choice or sentence structure, and then go back and rewrite once I know what’s happening. Whatever you do, keep practicing. Eventually it’s going to feel more natural. (And your future editors won’t be hitting their heads against the wall begging you to call a horse a horse.)
As with any writing advice, there are times when you’re going to ignore all of this. Maybe you’re going to have a character who loves using twenty-point Scrabble words so you need to bust out the thesaurus. Maybe the narrator of your story speaks in an exaggerated way and you need all the funky verbs you can find. Maybe you’re using intentional repetition to build tension or drive a point home. All of that is okay. I’ve found the phrase, “rules were meant to be broken” has never been more true than in writing.
But remember that the purpose of writing is to effectively communicate an idea, and keeping these three points in mind will help you do just that.
Merriam-Webster Unabridged, s.v. “susurration (n.),” accessed March 14, 2024, https://unabridged.merriam-webster.com/unabridged/susurration.
Because of its growing popularity as a verb, particularly in the genres of romance or romantic fantasy (romantasy), more and more dictionaries are starting to include a verb form of the word, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume the unabridged dictionary will follow suit.