Overwriting With Too Many Unnecessary and Unneeded Superfluous Words

For those of you who didn’t notice, (and I hope most of you noticed), only one or two of those words were necessary to properly and clearly convey the topic of my discussion.

In the two words, “Superfluous Words”, was contained the information in all the other seven words combined. The definition of superfluous is: unnecessary, esp. through being more than enough: the purchaser should avoid asking for superfluous information.

I could have also simply used that single word – “Overwriting” to get my message across. Because the very definition of overwriting is the use of ANY unneeded/unnecessary words.

You wouldn’t say:

George slowly and sluggishly made his way down the street.
or:
Sheila was puzzled and confused about the entire situation.
or:
On Saturday mornings, Mike would inevitably and invariably wake up with a hangover.

Many writers – most of them unintentionally – repeat themselves.

So do your best to be on the lookout for redundancy in your writing. There’s no surer sign of an amateur.

Have you ever had someone tell you a story – a story you really want to hear? But they keep getting sidetracked on needless, silly details you could care less about? Then, to make matters worse, they stop every few seconds to say, “To make a long story short…”

This is what happens when the writer gets in the way of his story with too many words, overwrought narrative, or pointless dialogue. For example, have you ever come across the following?

As he stepped out his front door, Bill ran into his neighbor, Fred.
“Good morning, Fred,” said Bill.
“Good morning, Bill,” said Fred.
“How are you today?” Bill said to Fred.
“I’m okay,” Fred said.
“Good.”
“And how are you, Bill?” Fred said.
“I’m fine,” Bill answered.
“Good,” Fred said.
“Except for my knee,” Bill added.
“Is your arthritis acting up again?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. It’s rheumatism. Not arthritis.”
“I see,” Fred said.
(Sound of book falling from reader’s hands, followed by loud snoring.)

Greetings and small talk have no place in fiction. It really is okay – when writing dialogue – to cut the crap, and instead cut to the chase.

While words are the storytellers best friend, they can – like Frankenstein’s monster – turn on their creator.

If you’re writing fiction, you don’t always need dramatic settings filled with spacious skies and amber waves of grain. Sometimes it’s just a place. Like an old trailer in an old trailer park. Or a dank room somewhere.

As a reader, I personally could care less the species or genus of whatever shrub the scene is landscaped with. Nor do I care if the small, white, semi-fluffy, animal-shaped clouds passing languidly overhead are cumulonimbus.

Tell me the damn story. Lets get to the good part! Give me just enough details to get me out of MY world, and into your world.

Then get out of my way.

Because when you provide TOO MANY details, you run the risk of reminding me I’m reading a book.

I’ll stop wondering about this fascinating character I’m reading about, and start wondering who the hell wrote this book, and who allowed them to get away with it.

When proofing your book, always stop and ask yourself:

Does this word, sentence, or paragraph, further my story?
Would the reader even notice if I deleted it?
Why is it even there?
Does it take the reader deeper into the story, or does it distract or detract from the story?

This doesn’t mean you have to leave nothing but the bare bones.

There are varying opinions on how much is too much when it comes to providing details. Just beware that most readers today were raised in a world of microwave ovens, where everything happens in seconds or minutes. For better or for worse, readers want what they want, and they want it now.

NAMING YOUR CHARACTERS

Have you ever come across a book like this?

“My Queen, Sir Xanxfenqub’s troops are massing on the border,” Prince Elxizgrufkle said.
“Do we even have a battle plan?” Queen Zaqxuiglsy retorted.
“I’m well aware of our strategic shortcomings,” King Grubkinfelkin said, rising from his throne.
(sound of reader jumping out the window of his high-rise apartment.)

If your last name happens to be Tolkien or Martin, you might get away with giving your characters exotic, hard-to-pronounce names like this. And I stress the word “might”. But even George R.R. Martin populated his novels with fairly simple names like Jamie or Tyrion.

TOO MUCH EXPOSITION

Don’t you enjoy it when you read a passage like this:

Susie turned off her brand-new Android XG 5000, which she’s just purchased on sale the day before, then sat back in her greenish-grey antique Broyhill sofa, which her husband, Scooter, had inherited from his Uncle Karl, who’d recently passed away at the ripe old age of 96, after a long and productive life. Uncle Karl had fought in two wars, and had been a presiding president of the Local Chapter of the Venerable Moose Lodge 476, and he enjoyed a game of golf when the weather permitted….”

Such details may be fascinating to some.

However, most readers will be by now begin wondering when, if ever, something is going to happen in your book.

If any of the facts narrated above are relevant to the story, then by all means include them.

But keep the reader in mind, along with the following words: “To make a long story short…”

It’s okay to use more words if they serve a purpose in explaining a character or scene. If you want to better evoke some sensory experience, by all means use more words to assist you.

But always attempt to remain behind the scenes, like the Wizard of Oz, hiding behind the curtains and pulling the levers. Don’t let the reader become aware of your presence.

When reading fiction, the reader has suspended his disbelief (hopefully). If you’ve done your job properly, your reader is happily immersed in your story, and thoroughly enjoying him or herself. But when you try too hard, you alert the reader to your presence.

Do your best to avoid being detected.