15 Tips for Crafting More Interesting and Elegant Sentences
I’m currently wrapping up the spring semester of my life story writing classes. Thanks to a student request, for the past fifteen weeks I’ve been giving my students tips for writing stronger sentences. Here’s the final list.
Tip #1: Reduce Wan Intensifiers
On the very first page of the very first chapter of his book on writing, Dreyer’s English: An Utterly Correct Guide to Clarity and Style, Benjamin Dreyer addresses perhaps my greatest writing Achilles’ heel: “Wan Intensifiers.”
This is how the chapter begins:
Here’s your first challenge:
Go a week without writing
· very
· rather
· really
· quite
· in fact
And you can toss in—or, that is, toss out—“just” (not in the sense of “righteous,” but in the sense of “merely”) and “so” (in the “extremely” sense, though as conjunctions go it’s pretty disposable too).
Oh yes: “pretty.” As in “pretty tedious.” Or “pretty pedantic.” Go ahead and kill that particular darling.
And “of course.” That’s right out. And “surely.” And “that said.”
And “actually”? Feel free to go the rest of your life without another “actually.”*
If you can’t last a week without writing any of what I’ve come to think of as the Wan Intensifiers and Throat Clearers—I wouldn’t ask you to go a week without saying them; that would render most people, especially British people, mute—you will at the end of that week be a considerably better writer than you were at the beginning.
*“Actually” has been a weakness of mine my entire life, speaking and writing, and I realized that it was contagious the first time I heard my two-year-old nephew declare, “Actually, I like peas.”
As any recipient of my texts and emails knows, Wan Intensifiers are like air to me. My rough drafts are riddled with them. I’m busy trying to extricate most of them from the book I’m currently revising. I’ll allow just one per page. Baby steps!
My most-used Wan Intensifier is “really.” What’s yours?
Tip #2: Vary Sentence Length
Writing, like music, has rhythm. You probably have your own writing rhythm even without realizing it. One way to cultivate more rhythm and flow in your stories is to vary the length of your sentences. Long sentence after long sentence after long sentence, etc., can exhaust a reader, but it’s invigorating for a reader when long, well-crafted sentences are placed among shorter sentences. Absent the need to wade through a morass of long sentences, a reader has energy to savor the well-placed ones you do offer up.
Here's an example of long sentences paired with short sentences for impact, from Mary Karr’s memoir The Liars’ Club:
My sharpest memory is of a single instant surrounded by dark. I was seven, and our family doctor knelt before me where I sat on a stool in the kitchen, his glasses glinting in the hooded light. Behind him, Mother kept to the shadows, shaking, whether with anger or tears I couldn’t tell. I remember his two fists on my knees, the comforting smell of his wool suit, and his face close enough for me to see each gray pore. “Stop crying,” he said. “It’s just a belt buckle.”
The following is a breakdown of how varied sentence length in that passage leads to rhythm and flow:
A short, punchy, dramatic opening sentence draws the reader in:
My sharpest memory is of a single instant surrounded by dark.
A few longer, more detailed sentences follow, building the scene and adding sensory information and tension. The longer structure mimics the layered way memory floods in:
I was seven, and our family doctor knelt before me where I sat on a stool in the kitchen, his glasses glinting in the hooded light.
Behind him, Mother kept to the shadows, shaking, whether with anger or tears I couldn’t tell.
I remember his two fists on my knees, the comforting smell of his wool suit, and his face close enough for me to see each gray pore.
A very short last sentence adds a final emotional punch:
It’s just a belt buckle.
Tip #3: Prioritize Strong Verbs over Weak Verbs
If you have the luxury of editing and revising a story, the “to be” verbs—is, was, were, has, and had—are always ripe for improvement. Replacing them with more vivid and specific verbs will bring action and clarity to your writing.
Here are some examples of how to do that:
Weak: I was tired after the long walk.
Stronger: My legs ached, and my knees trembled, after the long walk.
Weak: I had a headache from the loud music in the restaurant.
Stronger: After two hours in the loud restaurant, a dull ache throbbed behind my eyes.
Weak: The house was old and creepy.
Stronger: The house felt damp even on sunny days, stinking with the sharp aroma of mildew.
Weak: My homeroom teacher was an angry person.
Stronger: Mrs. Kohls, my homeroom teacher, never declined an opportunity to announce that eighth graders are the worst people on the planet.
Weak: My sister had hazel eyes that everyone commented were her best feature.
Stronger: My sister’s eyes disarmed everyone she met with their many shades of jade and halo of bronze.
Tip #4: Trim Deadwood
“Trimming deadwood” is what writers and editors sometimes call the process of cutting excess words to make writing clearer, more concise, and more impactful. Every writer’s first and second drafts contain deadwood. The extra words are part and parcel of the creative process. Sentences with deadwood represent our speech patterns more closely than tightly edited sentences do, but we trim deadwood because it creates a more pleasant and less confusing experience for the reader. Trimming deadwood also minimizes word count, which writers who publish often need to do.
The following are some examples of how to fix sentences weighed down with deadwood.
Deadwood: The main reason why we stumbled was because of the result of the effects of alcohol.
Trimmed by making the verb stronger and eliminating filler words like “the result of the effects of”: We stumbled because we were drunk.
Deadwood: One benefit to panel discussions is that they often result in a larger audience than single-speaker events attract.
Trimmed by making the verb stronger and eliminating conditional words like “often”: Panel discussions attract larger audiences than most single-speaker events do.
Deadwood: The reason why she left was because she was tired.
Trimmed by eliminating redundant words: She left because she was tired.
Deadwood: She believed that he was lying.
Trimmed by eliminating an unnecessary “that”: She believed he was lying.
Deadwood: At this point in time, we need to make a decision.
Trimmed by rewriting a wordy construction: Now, we need to decide.
Tip #5: Correct Dangling Modifiers
Dangling modifiers are one of the most common mistakes I encounter in my editing life. They’re easy to spot and easy to fix once you know what to look for.
Take this sentence:
Running down the street, the book slipped out of his backpack.
Think about the subject-verb relationship of grammatically sound sentences. The subject does the action, right? For example, in the sentence “She cut her hair,” the subject is “she” and the verb is “cut.” She did the action of cutting.
Now, go back to the sentence:
Running down the street, the book slipped out of his backpack.
What’s the verb of the first part of that sentence? Yes, “running.” What’s the subject of that verb—what’s doing the running?
See what happens there? We know because we’re astute readers that there’s an implied subject in this sentence: either he or she or they are running. But that’s not what the sentence says. What the sentence says in its current construction is that the book is running.
A dangling modifier occurs when a phrase or sentence doesn’t have a clear subject, making it seem like the wrong noun (or nothing at all) is performing the action.
Here’s the sentence again with two possible fixes.
Dangling Modifier: Running down the street, the book slipped out of his backpack.
Fixed: Running down the street, he heard the book slip out of his backpack and fall to the ground.
Fixed: As he ran down the street, a book slipped out of his backpack.
The following are a few more examples of dangling modifiers with fixes.
Dangling Modifier: Hungry and frazzled after a long day of travel, the soup warmed her belly and calmed her nerves.
Was the soup hungry and frazzled? No.
Fixed: Hungry and frazzled after a long day of travel, she allowed the soup to warm her belly and calm her nerves.
Dangling Modifier: After rotting in the cellar for months, Grandma finally threw out the potatoes.
Was Grandma rotting in the cellar? No.
Fixed: Grandma finally threw out the potatoes that had been rotting in the cellar for months.
Dangling Modifier: After lifting weights for two hours, Netflix was a welcome distraction.
Did Netflix lift weights? No.
Fixed: After lifting weights for two hours, I distracted myself with Netflix.
Tip #6: Avoid Repetitive Sentence Openers
If we aren’t actively trying to do otherwise, most sentences in our first drafts tend to follow the standard subject-verb pattern. The subject-verb pattern looks like this (subjects and verbs in boldface):
I walked across the street to check on the stray dog.
We brought enough money to the movies for popcorn.
She couldn’t remember her own name after she hit her head on the low doorway.
There’s nothing wrong with subject-verb patterned sentences. They’re often the clearest way to get information across. But constructing paragraph after paragraph with sentences that all follow the same pattern creates a dull experience for the reader. A story with sentences that all have the same rhythm begins to sound like THUD, THUD, THUD. Vary your sentence construction and your stories will be more interesting.
Here's an example of a paragraph constructed with all subject-verb patterned sentences:
My family took a plane flight for the first time when I was nine years old. We traveled from Wisconsin to Florida for spring break. We didn’t have much of a travel budget back then, so we arranged to stay with family friends who owned a condominium a few miles from the beach in Naples. I remember exactly what I wore on the flight: brand-new coral-colored knickers with a matching striped boat neck top. People still tried to look nice for plane travel in 1979. I wasn’t scared to fly, just excited. My sister and I did Mad Libs, played cards, and drank cup after cup of 7-Up to pass the time.
Now, here’s the same story told with more sentence variety:
My family took a plane flight for the first time when I was nine years old. It was spring break, and as we didn’t have much of a travel budget, we arranged to stay with family friends who owned a condominium a few miles from the beach in Naples. Back then, in 1979, people still “dressed” for air travel, and I remember exactly what I wore: brand-new coral-colored knickers with a matching striped boat neck top. Was I scared to fly? Not that I remember, but I sure was excited. My sister and I did Mad Libs, played cards, and drank cup after cup of 7-Up to pass the time.
Our memories tend to naturally flow from head to page in subject-verb sentences. Don’t worry about variety in your first drafts—just let the words and your fingers do their thing. You can rearrange and rewrite later.
Tip #7: Notice the Power of Parallelism
Parallelism is the use of similar grammatical structures or patterns to create balance, rhythm, and clarity in a sentence or passage. Parallelism helps make writing more cohesive and easier to read.
Here I offer two ways of engaging parallelism to improve your sentences.
Use parallelism with intention to generate rhythm in your stories.
Public and motivational speakers often rely on parallelism. Think of MLK Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech. Many poems and powerful passages in literature do too. Pay attention to this technique in your reading life and it will make its way into your writing life.
Look for and correct parallelism mistakes when you’re editing your work.
The following are examples of parallelism mistakes and their fixes.
In Lists or Series:
NO: She likes biking, to jump rope, and jogging.
YES: She likes biking, jumping rope, and jogging.
(All verbs now have the same -ing ending.)
With either/or, neither/nor, not only/but also:
NO: He is either going to the gym or will hike in the hills behind his house.
YES: He is either going to the gym or hiking in the hills behind his house.
(Verbs in both "either" and "or" phrases now have the same -ing ending.)
In Comparisons:
NO: She prefers eating over to sleep.
YES: She prefers eating over sleeping.
(Both activities are now in the same -ing form.)
In Repeated Sentence Structures:
NO: We came, we saw, and we had a victory.
YES: We came, we saw, we conquered.
(The famous phrase uses parallel verbs in the simple past tense.)
Tip #8: Follow the Rule of Three
The rule of three is a writing principle that suggests ideas, words, or phrases presented in threes are more effective, memorable, and satisfying for the reader. The technique is often used in storytelling, speeches, and comedy.
Here’s an example of the rule of three used in life story writing:
My grandmother taught me three things: never to refrigerate a homemade pie, always to moisturize the face before bed, and how to peel a tomato.
This grouping of lessons from my grandmother adheres to the rule of three in the following ways:
It creates rhythm and balance.
It builds anticipation.
The final item carries extra weight or surprise. (Peeling tomatoes is a small, quirky surprise. I put it at the end because it’s the lesson from my grandmother that a reader would least expect.)
Here’s an example of the rule of three used for humor:
I knew the job interview was going downhill when the manager frowned at my résumé, raised an eyebrow at my salary expectations, and asked if I had any skills besides being a “people person” and a “Reddit expert.”
This grouping of reasons why a job interview went downhill adheres to the rule of three in the following ways:
The first two items set up a pattern with normal interview reactions, putting the reader at ease.
The third item subverts expectations with something unexpected or exaggerated. Who would put “Reddit expert” on a résumé?
The rhythm makes the story punchy and more memorable.
Tip #9: Use Similes and Metaphors
In her book Acetylene Torch Songs: Writing True Stories to Ignite the Soul, Sue William Silverman says this about metaphor:
Memory without metaphor is only that: a remembrance. But metaphor + memory = meaning
Similes and metaphors can strengthen our sentences by bringing more sharpness and emotional depth to them in the following ways:
Similes and metaphors make the abstract tangible
The stories we share in my life story writing classes involve emotions, memories, and reflections that can be hard to describe. A simile or metaphor turns an abstract feeling into something concrete.
Example using metaphor: Instead of saying, "I was nervous," you might write, "My stomach was a ball of wriggling worms."
Similes and metaphors create vivid imagery
Strong figurative language paints a mental picture for the reader, making scenes and emotions more memorable.
Example using metaphor: The clear summer night sky shimmered with the hope of a thousand promises.
Similes and metaphors deepen emotional impact
Similes and metaphors help readers feel the moment rather than just understand it.
Example using simile: Grief made itself a permanent part of me, like an extra limb that only got in the way.
Similes and metaphors reveal character and voice
Ideally, your choice of comparisons reflects your (or your character’s) personality, background, and worldview.
Example using simile: A farmer might say, "She was as persistent as flies on a cow," while a city dweller might say, "She was as impatient as an Uber driver in rush-hour traffic."
Similes and metaphors engage the reader’s own imagination
When you use similes and metaphors, rather than just recounting facts, you invite readers to connect their own experiences with yours. A reader might not relate to your experience of netting frogs in the swamp during June’s heat and humidity, but they might relate to how the heavy air stuck in your lungs like you’d swallowed a cotton rag.
Similes and metaphors show rather than tell
In contrast to an emotional state named as fact, which a reader will experience with their own bias, emotions expressed through simile and metaphor guide the reader to experience the emotion as the author intended.
Example using simile: Instead of a factual statement like "She was angry," you could engage the reader’s emotional imagination with a simile: "Her words snapped like dry twigs in a campfire."
Tip #10: Think Beyond Adjectives
When a writer attempts to add more descriptive language to a story during a revision or a second draft, they typically think of adding adjectives first. Adjectives modify nouns. The truck becomes the red truck. The dress becomes the silk dress. The umbrella becomes the broken umbrella.
Best not to use only adjectives to pump up your descriptions, though. Adjective upon adjective upon adjective puts a lot of weight on sentences, and the reader’s weary eyes wind up skipping over them. Take this adjective-heavy sentence, for example (adjectives in boldface):
Troy’s happy, energetic, young Latin teacher loves to play fun, engaging, competitive games when students finish their classwork because the teacher understands that worn-out, grumpy teenagers are still silly kids after all.
Nine adjectives. Exhausting, isn’t it? What would that sentence look like if we tried to convey the same level of description with fewer adjectives but more specifics and more action? Check out this version:
Troy’s Latin teacher—the one who rides a unicycle to school and does handstands between classes to stay energized—doesn’t let his students play on their phones when they’ve finished their classwork like other teachers do. Instead, he divides the class into teams, lays down some ground rules, and reminds the tired teenagers that you’re never too old to play games.
Instead of calling the teacher energetic and happy, I showed the ways he presents as an energetic and happy person.
Instead of calling the students worn-out and grumpy, I described how other teachers handle free time in the classroom—by allowing students to play on their phones. There’s tension and grumpiness baked into the topic of teenagers with phones.
Instead of calling the games fun, engaging, and competitive, I showed the teacher setting up some fun-sounding competition.
My descriptions became too long for one sentence, so I turned it into two sentences. I did keep the adjective “tired” because a well-placed adjective is a useful tool.
Tip #11: Reorder Words for Emphasis
First, I should admit that I don’t always follow this rule of writing or even fully understand it. I’m including it in this list because I’ve been told ever since high school that it’s important. There must be something to it!
Here's the idea: The most important or striking word or phrase should come at the end of the sentence because, in English, the end of a sentence is a natural point of emphasis—kind of like the punchline to a joke or the final note in a piece of music. It's the spot where the reader's attention lands and lingers.
Some reasons why experts say following this rule makes our writing more impactful:
We tend to remember the last thing we read or hear. Placing the most powerful word or phrase at the end increases its potency.
Building a sentence with the most impactful element at the end creates a sense of suspense. The sentence is more emotionally charged.
Flipping the expected word order can surprise and delight the reader.
Here are examples of adjusting word order for emphasis. I worked with ChatGPT on some of them because, like I said, following this rule isn’t natural for me. Chat wasn’t great at it either; teamwork was necessary.
Original: She told him the truth at last.
Revised for Emphasis: At last, she told him what he’d feared all along—the truth.
Original: He brought home something unusual from the market.
Revised for Emphasis: From the market, he brought home something unusual: a live chicken.
My preferred way of revising it, which only partially follows the rule: He brought home something unusual from the market: a live chicken.
Original: The painting caught everyone’s attention because of its color.
Revised for Emphasis: It wasn’t the subject or the size—but the color—that stole everyone’s attention.
Original: She found her grandmother’s necklace when she opened the box.
Revised for Emphasis: When she opened the box, gleaming back at her was her grandmother’s necklace.
I’d love to know what YOU think about this tip. Tell me in the comments.
Tip #12: Experiment with Alternatives to the Comma and the Period
How comfortable are you with using dashes and semicolons? How about ellipses? Parentheses? You don’t want to overdo it, but playing with punctuation in careful ways helps with nuance and pacing. When you move beyond the comma and the period, readers stay entertained and on their toes.
Let’s take a flat passage and enhance it with some variety in punctuation.
Flat passage:
She walked into the restaurant ten minutes late. The date she met on Tinder hadn’t arrived yet. She sat at the bar, ordered a Coke, and waited. Half an hour later, her date still hadn’t arrived. She ordered another Coke and a shot of bourbon.
Option 1 - Using dashes and parentheses for emphasis and intrusion
She walked into the restaurant ten minutes late to learn that—surprise, surprise—the date she met on Tinder hadn’t arrived yet. She sat at the bar, ordered a Coke, and waited. Half an hour later when her date still hadn’t shown up (how could this be happening again?), she ordered another Coke. This time, with a shot of bourbon.
Option 2 – Using semicolons for elegance and connection
Semicolons can take the place of “and” or “but.”
She walked into the restaurant ten minutes late; the date she met on Tinder hadn’t arrived yet. She sat at the bar, ordered a Coke, and waited. Half an hour later, her date still hadn’t arrived. She ordered another Coke; instead of stopping there, she asked the bartender to add a shot of bourbon.
Option 3 – Using ellipses for hesitation or emphasis
I wouldn’t advocate for using ellipses three times in such a short passage . . . I’m overdoing it here for purposes of the example.
She walked into the restaurant ten minutes late . . . only to find that her Tinder date hadn’t arrived yet. She sat at the bar, ordered a Coke, and waited . . . and waited. Half an hour later, when her date still hadn’t arrived, she ordered another Coke . . . this time with bourbon.
Tip #13: Show, Don’t Tell
Many of the earlier tips in this list offer ways of showing instead of telling in your storytelling. I mention the commonly quoted rule again here with its own tip to emphasize its importance and effectiveness. Showing rather than telling strengthens not only sentences but also stories and books.
As one more example, take this sentence:
I felt ashamed of my wet pants.
That’s telling. Telling is a clear and valid way of getting information across. But telling lacks intrigue. That’s where showing comes in. Showing turns your sentences from vehicles of information into full-bodied experiences for the reader.
When you’re figuring out how to add more show to your sentences, interrogate them. Ask who, what, when, where, why, and how questions and then use your answers to revise.
Why were my pants wet?
Why was I ashamed?
What did my shame look and feel like?
How can I express what my wet pants meant to me in a way that will put the reader in my shoes?
Consider this rewrite of the sentence with some added showing:
Still wet from having hung on the clothesline during the morning’s surprise rainstorm, my pants were heavy not just with water but also shame; they clung to my thighs like the poverty my family couldn’t shake off.
Tip #14: Pay Attention to Sentence Rhythm, Cadence, and Flow
The best way I know to work on the rhythm and flow of my own writing is to listen to the work read aloud, either by myself or someone else. I like to use the read aloud function in Microsoft Word 365 on my MacBook Pro. I choose the most robotic-sounding voice; if my sentences flow when spoken without emotion, they pass the test.
If your word processing software doesn’t have a read aloud function, you can download an extension for Chrome:
Many other read aloud software programs exist, so explore online.
Tip #15: Remember You Have a Unique Voice and Use It
We all need reminding that we—you, me, every one of us—have a unique writing voice. Honoring your voice is the number one technique that will draw readers to your writing, more than following any rule or using any recommended trick. Is it possible to improve your writing voice? Yes, it is. Reading and writing will improve your writing in every way, including by strengthening your voice. Practice, practice, practice. It’s important to work on improving your writing voice, though, not someone else’s. Use it, own it, learn to love it.