Self-Editing: Topics
What is a filter verb? It’s any verb that happens entirely inside a character’s head. Wait, but don’t we want to be inside our character’s head? Isn’t that good fiction writing? In this case, no. Hold on, and I’ll explain. First, let’s start with a sample list of filter words so you can see the types of verbs I’m referring to.
Thought Words Sense Words Emotion Words Others
believe hear like experience
decide see love feel
know smell want seem
Can you see how these verbs all happen inside a character’s head with no outside action? Filter verbs create the dreaded “telling” of a story instead of showing it. To clarify, I’ll use a few filter verbs in some sentences.
Telling Sentence Using Filter Verb Showing Sentence Using Action Verb
Sam saw the car crash into the lake. The car crashed into the lake.
Audrey heard the doorbell. The doorbell rang.
Zuri noticed that the woman wore pink lipstick. The woman wore pink lipstick.
Russ disliked the child’s constant complaints. The child’s constant complaints grated on Russ’s last nerve.
In the telling sentences with filter verbs, the reader is being told what happened instead of living the moment vicariously with the character. If you think this doesn’t matter, reconsider. Once I bought 2 books and read them back-to-back; the first I loved and the second never really engaged me. Since their quality seemed equal—well-written, grammatically correct, professionally formatted, solid plots, and appealing covers—I examined them to see what made the difference. The engaging novel averaged 2 filter verbs per page while the unengaging one averaged 9.4 filter verbs per page. The problem consisted of too much telling via filter verbs.
With that being said, do not work so hard to remove a filter verb that you convolute your writing. A few filter verbs will not ruin solid writing as the above anecdote illustrates. When self-editing, check for filter verbs and try to reduce them to only a couple per page. The easiest way to do this is to use the “find function” of your word processing program, for example Control F in Word. I take my list of filter verbs and search for each one, then I remove or reword them. In the first three examples above, I simply removed the filter verb. In the last sentence, I reworded it. As you read, write, and edit, create a list of filter verbs that you encounter. Include synonyms. For example, if you add notice to your filter verb list, include alternatives such as noted and observed.
Besides allowing readers deeper into the character’s head, removing filter verbs also often tightens the writing. The first three “Showing Sentences” above contain between one and three fewer words than the telling versions. Writing also benefits from filter verb removal by strengthening the verbs. The examples above illustrate this principle, changing from saw to crashed, from heard to rang, and from disliked to grated. The showing sentences, well, show, because they create a picture in reader’s minds by employing specific, evocative verbs.
The words in the “Other” list do not always serve as a filter verb; it depends on the syntactical construction of the sentence.
Verb Used as a Filter Verb Used as an Action Word
Will felt happy. Will felt inside the box for any remaining items.
Lucy finds her chickens endearing. Lucy finds the chicken’s last hidden egg.
In the filter verb samples, no outward movement occurs, but in the action samples, motion occurs: Will moves his hand around inside the box, fingers exploring, arm stretched out. Lucy bends over and grabs the egg. When self-editing, search for “other” words as feel and find, then decide on a case-by-case basis whether the word works as a filter or an action. As a hint, filter verbs usually dual as linking verbs, too.
For an in-depth discussion of filter verbs, more tips on how to remove or change them, and when to use or not use filter verbs, please see Exceptional Writing, Volume 2, Foundations.
Helping verbs, also called modal or auxiliary verbs, support the main verb to show tense, mood, permission, and possibility. Think of “is running” (present continuous tense) compared to “will have run” (future perfect tense) compared to “had run” (past perfect tense). The helping verbs clarify tense (when the action happened), for example “will” designates a future event while “is” indicates a current event.
Including the helping verb “may” before the main verb shows possibility or permission. Think of “It may rain” (possibility) and “She may have a cookie” (permission). The modal verb can indicates ability in such sentences as “Aimee can sing beautifully” or “Ben can type fast.”
If these helping verbs, well, help, why do we want to edit them out? When we include needless helping verbs, they clutter instead of clarify writing. Most often, these excess helpers come in the form of continuous verbs. Let’s look at some examples:
The children are playing outside.
The children play outside.
The guerillas are throwing down their weapons and fleeing into the forests.
The guerillas throw down their weapons and flee into the forests.
The sentences without helping verbs (in this case indicating a continuous tense) are stronger. I advise writers to inspect each helping verb, especially the continuous tense (to be + –ing verb), to see if discarding it and choosing the plain verb strengthens the sentence. This serves a dual function: not only to remove the clutter, but to also often eliminate another boring to be verb.
Helping verbs include these words:
Am/are/is/was/were
Be/being/been
Have/has/had
Can/could
Shall/should
Will/would
Do/does/did
May/might/must
Ought/ought to
Use the find function on your word processing program to search each of the helping verbs in the list above. Examine them for necessity and ax those not pulling their weight.
For more examples and tips on removing useless helping verbs, see Exceptional Writing: A Step-by-Step Guide for Indie Authors, Volume 2, Foundations.
Nominalizations occur when writers turn a verb or adjective into a noun, for example sad become sadness (adjective into noun) or analyze morphing into analysis (a verb into a noun). When writers then use some other verb in place of the altered one (usually to be, overused, or filter verbs), problems arise—this weaker verb choice obscures the real action. Examples work wonders to clarify meaning, so I will illustrate the idea:
I saw a flicker of light in the dark. (9 words)
The police commissioner gave a report on the precinct’s improved statistics. (11 words)
Did you find the verbs changed into nouns? If you found “a report” and “a flicker,” you’re on the right track! Instead, simply use flicker or report as the verb:
A light flickered in the dark. (6 words)
The police commissioner reported on the precinct’s improved statistics. (9 words)
By nominalizing flicker and replacing it with the weaker filter verb saw, the writer buried the real action of that sentence. The same problem occurred in the second sentence, except the writer employed the overused verb gave. To write clearly and to ramp up action and interest, we can remove the nominalization. Which main clause creates a better picture in a reader’s head, I saw or a light flickered?
Here are a few more examples to illustrate how turning a nominalized form (noun) back into a verb works for to be verbs as well as for overused verbs and filter verbs.
Mother Teresa was a blessing in other people’s lives. (See to be verbs.)
Mother Teresa blessed other people’s lives.
Feeling healthier and more energetic is motivation for eating gluten-free. (See to be verbs.)
Feeling healthier and more energetic motivates people to eat gluten-free.
Here are a few more to cement the idea.
Trevor gave a slide presentation. (See overused verbs.)
Trevor presented the slides.
The orb made several revolutions. (See overused verbs.)
The orb revolved several times.
The dog let off a growl and leapt at me. (See overused verbs.)
The dog growled and leapt at me.
A side benefit to removing nominalizations—besides strengthening the verb—is writing tight. Notice that each nominalization rewrite requires fewer words.
The problem with overused verbs stems from triteness. Writers employ the word so much that readers become immune to it, and it means nothing. Let’s look at the overused verb to make as an example. Here are just a few ways we (over)use this verb.
make an appearance make out make it across
make a deal make of make a fuss
make a scene make off make the most of
make (someone) angry make for make up
make (something) a reality make do with make out of
make a motion make it through make off with
Some other overused verbs include come, do, give, go, have, step, take, turn, use, or any verb an author personally overuses. I once edited a manuscript where the author used pulled close to 100 times in the story, yet never once tugged, yanked, hauled, dragged, fished, drew, heaved, or jerked.
When self-editing, utilize your word processing program’s “find function” to search out overused words like make—or made if you write in past tense. When you find them, try to reword to a fresher, more engaging word. I’ve included samples to get your editing juices flowing:
Make an appearance could become plain appear or morph into a verb like emerge, pop up, or show up.
Made up could become imagined, created, fabricated, fictionalized, concocted, fashioned, formulated, or any number of fresher verbs, depending on context.
Made off with could change into stole, absconded, pilfered, or snitched, depending on context, but not took since that’s also an overused word.
Overused verbs often also appear (not make an appearance) as nominalizations (the process of turning a verb or adjective into a noun), which you don’t want either. I’ve included a few instances of nominalizations via overused verbs here:
Overused Verb as a Nominalization Corrected Nominalization Using Fresher Verbs
The orb made several revolutions. The orb revolved several times.
Trevor gave a slide presentation. Trevor presented the slides.
Rachel made a gesture for the driver to go. Rachel gestured for the driver to go.
Removing overused verbs will sometimes correct a nominalization problem before you even self-edit for that. As an added bonus, removing nominalizations through overused verbs tightens writing, always a plus. The last two examples just above contain fewer words after eliminating the overused (and nominalized) verb.
Parallel structure is an intentional repetition that creates linguistic balance by using congruent grammatical elements. This repetition can occur within a sentence, over the course of several sentences, or throughout a longer work.
Did I say repetition? Isn’t that a cardinal sin of writing? Yes, but that’s accidental repetition or repetition of unmeaningful parts, whereas parallel structure is intentional replication of important components. The linguistic balance created by parallelism makes writing clean, clear, concise, and impactful.
Accidental repetition might look like using the word all twice in the same sentence or employing the word katana twenty-four times within several paragraphs about a fight between two samurai. When self-editing, check for these types of errors and correct them. For example, if I’d used all twice in one sentence, I’d change one to every. If I’d accidentally used katana twenty-four times in three paragraphs, I might replace some with the word blade, some with weapon, and some with sword.
Now, what about intentional repetition, called parallel structure? Did you notice how I repeated the phrase some with in the last sentence of the paragraph above? Using some with was not a result of accident; I used it to create linguistic balance to make the writing clean, clear, concise, and impactful. Oh wait, I used parallel structure again with clean, clear, concise, and impactful. Note how I employed only one adjective each. I didn’t pen, really clean, super clear, concise, and impactful because my elements would be uneven—two with an adverb-adjective combination and two with a single adjectives.
The most important place to check for parallel construction is within a series, like the two examples in the previous paragraph. Note also the series of prepositional phrases ending the first paragraph. I purposefully attempted parallel construction, though it’s not perfect. So, don’t stress if you can’t generate completely congruent elements; just aim for as close as possible. By doing so, you help readers anticipate what’s coming (important for flow) and understand the writing (important for reader retention).
Some elements English can balance linguistically include nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs, phrases, clauses, and sentences. Here are a couple of examples to help you get the feel of it.
Parallel adjective phrase: Our professor was usually fun but occasionally unpredictable.
Nonparallel adjective phrase: Our professor was usually fun but got unpredictable on occasion.
Parallel nouns: The judge’s sentencing addressed both justice and mercy.
Nonparallel nouns: The judge’s sentencing addressed both justice and the idea of mercy.
If you need more information on parallel structure or would like to learn about special types of parallelism, please see Exceptional Writing: A Step-by-Step Guide for Indie Authors, Volume 1, Flow or the free material under Resources for Teachers on this website.
Hint: Read your work aloud. Accidental repetition errors become more pronounced (pun intended) and easily found. If something sounds off, but you’re not sure what it is, check for accidental repetition first.
Don’t confuse linking verbs with passive voice. Though both prove problematic when overused, they are different snags in writing. We could consider linking verbs “passive” since no action occurs, but verbs are one of the eight parts of speech, whereas passive voice is a type of syntactical construction where the writer takes the direct object and moves it to the subject position.
Regular Construction Passive Voice Construction
Jared ate the doughnuts. The doughnuts were eaten by Jared.
José presented the trophies. The trophies were presented by José.
Julia kicked the ball past the goalie. The ball was kicked past the goalie by Julia.
In each passive voice case, I took the direct object of the first sentence (doughnuts, trophies, ball) and turned it into the subject of the second sentence. This generates several problems. First, we have to add a boring to be verb (were, was) to create passive construction, and we want to avoid as many to be verbs as possible. Second, we have to add the preposition by to indicate who really accomplished the action, and any excess words—like the two we just added to make passive construction—bog down our writing. Third, this construction distances the reader from the writing, basically barring the reader from deeply experiencing the story, which goes against the writer’s mantra, “Show; don’t tell.”
Passive construction follows this pattern:
To be verb + past participle verb + preposition (usually by, but not always)
The past participle verb derives from a verb’s base form; for example, regular verbs such as kick or present become kicked and presented. Irregular verbs take several different forms, such as eat, which becomes eaten, or spend, which becomes spent. A preposition, one of the eight parts of speech, is a word that precedes a noun, pronoun, or noun phrase and expresses a relationship to another word or element in the clause, as in the girl on the stage, Rheese arrived after lunch, or he sits at the table.
The sentences in the passive list above comply with this pattern. I’ve broken down two of them.
were + eaten + by (were = to be verb, eaten = past participle of eat, by = a preposition)
was + kicked + by (was = to be verb, kicked = past participle of kick, by = a preposition)
Unless you are using passive voice with intent (see Exceptional Writing, Volume 2, Foundations for reasons a writer might wish to employ passive voice), remove it from your writing. Passive voice is not fancy or erudite; it is boring and wordy. To eliminate it, simply reverse the writing, placing the subject where it belongs: as a direct object. Then place the performer of the action where it belongs, as the subject.
Passive Construction Reversed to Regular Construction
The party was thrown by Gabriel. Gabriel threw the party.
The picture was painted by Sophie. Sophie painted the picture.
Writers pen two types of fragments: accidental and intentional. Intentional fragmentation can generate moments of power, voice, authenticity, and/or a relaxed writing style. However, accidental fragmentation, especially excessively used, can create choppy flow, reader confusion, poor writing, and loss of impact.
We speak in fragments all the time, so they’re fine in dialogue as long as the conversation is not comprised entirely of fragmentation—no one can follow that. Please limit fragments in narration because if we use too many, when we want one for impact, it fizzles instead of punches—it’s just one more fragment floating in a sea of them.
If we use too many fragments, the flow becomes choppy, almost frenetic. If that’s what you’re aiming for, perfect. If not, use sentences. Astute readers, and most readers are astute, will discern writers who don’t know the difference between a sentence and a fragment and will lose respect for the author. After all, how can the reader respect writers who don’t know what they’re doing?
As far as voice, fragments can create realistic, relatable, comedic, or interesting effects, but too many create a narrator who can’t really put words together. So, carefully control how many fragments you use.
Any time a writer pens a “sentence,” meaning it’s punctuated with a capital letter at the beginning and has end punctuation like a period or question mark, it should also contain both a subject and a verb, and it should make sense on its own; otherwise, the author has created a fragment.
Sentences Fragments
Get out! (understood subject you) Out!
I love pizza! It’s my favorite! Pizza! My favorite!
No, I don’t have a dog. No, no dog.
Who are you talking about? Who?
They’re so stupid. Duh.
As you can see, the fragment list on the right creates fun flavor. We definitely want to pen interesting and engaging stories, newsletters, books, and articles. Fragments can aid in that effort, but don’t depend on them to do all the heavy lifting. Save them for moments of humor, emphasis, or impact. Like sprinkling pepper on scrambled eggs, too much spice will ruin the dish.
During one of your many (hopefully) self-editing rounds, check for fragments—sentences that are missing either a subject or a verb, or even both! Remember to also ensure that that subject-verb combo also makes sense on its own. This article explains why you should limit fragments, but if you need more information on how to find a fragment, please see Exceptional Writing: A Step-by-Step Guide for Indie Authors, Volume 1, Flow or peruse the free help under Resources for Teachers here on my website.
To be is the infinitive (unconjugated) form of the verb be. When conjugated for person (first, second, third, singular/plural) or for tense, to be takes several forms:
be are
being is
been was
am were
No matter the form, they are all to be verbs, which fall under the linking verb classification. They are not classified as action verbs. Let me repeat that: they are not classified as action verbs. Action verbs show movement and include ideas like run, skate, or tackle. Linking verbs, on the other hand, indicate a state of being or simply link two ideas together. Some verbs can serve both as an action and as a linking verb, depending on how they’re used.
Action Linking
He found his keys under the chair. I find grammar lessons interesting.
I smelled the lily and got pollen up my nose. The cookies smell delicious.
On the left, movement happens, for example, leaning over the flower and sniffing. In the counterpart sentence on the right, nothing happens. The cookies don’t smell anything. The verb smell simply links the two halves of the sentence together, indicating their connection or relationship.
When self-editing for verbs, note how many to be verbs you have on a page. Why should you do this? Because no action occurs with to be, and to engross readers, something should happen in your writing, especially stories, whether fictional or not. When I edit, especially new or self-published writers, I usually find an excess employment of to be verbs. By excessive, I mean 15 to 20 on each page. Boring. You don’t want dull verbs; you want engaging verbs. So, try to remove and reword most of the to be verbs. Though not always possible, especially for nonfiction, aim for 2-3 per page (this page has 5, not including examples). Below I include samples from my own edit of this page’s first draft.
Removing to be verbs
Before After
Though it is not always possible, I aim for 2-3 per page. Though not always possible, I aim for 2-3 per page.
On the right, nothing is happening. On the right, nothing happens.
Rewording to be verbs
Before After
To be verbs are dull. You don’t want dull verbs.
…which is classified as a linking verb. …which fall under the linking verb classification.
Note: Don’t worry about to be verbs in dialogue; rather, strike them from narration. Don’t convolute your writing in the effort to remove to be. A few to be verbs won’t ruin solid writing.
Transitions keep readers oriented and engaged. They also reduce readers’ cognitive strain and encourage them to keep reading. We can categorize transition words by function, such as addition, cause-and-effect, or time, or by part of speech (conjunctions, adverb, or preposition).
With the push to simplify writing by using only short, simple sentences, we are losing vital aspects of reading such as flow, clarity, and enjoyment. The problem with short sentences: they cannot hold complex ideas. The problem with too many short sentences back-to-back: the flow becomes choppy, sounding like an easy reader for children learning to read. So, look at your writing. If you have more than 3 short sentences (14 words or less) in a row, consider combining a few.
As an example, let’s say I found this in my writing:
The fans became unruly. The officials stopped the game and cleared the stands. Many people complained that they wanted their money back. That did not happen. Stadium workers could not know which attendees had been unruly.
Writing five very short sentences (the longest with 10 words) creates the problems I mentioned above. The story is choppy (read it aloud if you cannot see the flow issue) which strains the enjoyment of it. Additionally, readers must piece together the story causing them that cognitive burden I mentioned earlier, which hinders clarity. Such writing doesn’t connect up the complex ideas.
Let’s combine the short sentences using both “categories” of transitions. Here I classify them as parts of speech.
The fans became unruly, so the officials stopped the game and cleared the stands. Afterward, many people complained that they wanted their money back, but that did not happen because stadium workers could not know which attendees had been unruly.
In this case, I used conjunctions—the coordinating conjunctions so and but as well as the subordinating conjunction because—and an adverb, afterward. Now the choppiness is gone, the complex ideas reveal themselves, and the mental strain disappears because readers don’t have to puzzle out the meaning.
We could also go at the problem by using transition words with certain functions that you desire. (You can find lists of transition words, also called signal words, on the Internet or in my book Exceptional Writing: A Step-by-Step Guide for Indie Authors, Volume 1, Flow.)
The fans became unruly, and as a result, officials stopped the game and cleared the stands. Naturally, many people complained that they wanted their money back, but that did not happen because stadium workers could not know which attendees had been unruly.
Here I use the cause-and-effect transitional phrase as a result; the transition word naturally, which signals emphasis/certainty; the transition word but, which signals contradiction; and the cause-and-effect transition word because.
Read either of the rewrites aloud compared to the original choppy version, and you will hear how much more pleasant the story is.
Hints: Don’t go overboard on transitions. Too many sounds just as bad as too few.
When studying authors whose flow is pleasant and easy to read compared to writers whose work is choppy, I found that those writers with fewer than four signal words per page (not including and since it’s so common) were difficult to read. Good authors averaged 6-7 per page and the ones I found impressive went up to 12+ per page. Please keep in mind, this study was small, informal, and based on my opinion of “good, better, and best” writing.
Adverbs are words that describe verbs, adjectives, or other adverbs. Because this page concerns verbs, I’ll limit the discussion of adverbs here to those that describe verbs.
Since editors currently discourage adverbs, we want to avoid them (adverbs, not editors), so first, we must recognize an adverb. Without taking a grammar class, how do people find the adverbs in their writing? Here are a few simple clues. I’ve underlined the verbs being modified and italicized the adverbs, so you can find them more easily.
How to recognize an adverb:
An adverb tells more about a verb, specifically, when, where, how, and to what extent.
When—The children played yesterday.
Where—The children played outside.
How—The children played nicely.
To what extent—The children played very nicely.
Many adverbs have an –ly ending, such as strongly, happily, drastically, hurriedly, quickly.
Adverbs can often be moved around in the sentence.
Yesterday, the children played outside.
The children played outside yesterday.
Of course, we can’t avoid when and where in stories. How could we write a story if we eliminated all when and where words because they’re nasty, bad, to-be-avoided adverbs?
When agents and editors denounce adverbs, what they really mean is adverbs that describe how and to what extent, not when and where. So now that we still have free rein over half our adverbs, let’s discuss the ones we do want to remove—the how and to what extent words. Let’s start with a few verb + adverb combinations: strongly dislike, strongly condemn, and strongly suggest. To what extent do I dislike? Strongly. To what extent do I condemn? Strongly. How do I suggest? Strongly.
Editors want us to avoid writing like this because, despite the word strongly, the writing is not strong. It’s not precise either, and writers should pen powerful, specific images. Instead of modifying the verb dislike with an adverb to tell how or to what extent, select a word that means strongly dislike all by itself, such as hate or abhor. Instead of strongly condemn, find a word that means that all by itself, like berate, lambast, castigate, or blacklist (as in editors blacklist adverbs). Instead of strongly suggest, choose urge or insist.
To easily check for unneeded adverbs, use your word processor’s “find” function, inserting “ly” since many of the adverbs modifying how or to what extent end in “ly.” Examine the adverb to see if you can replace both it and its accompanying verb with a single, more specific word.
For a more in-depth discussion, examples, and tips, see Exceptional Writing: A Step-by-Step Guide for Indie Authors, Volume 2, Foundations.
The easiest way to vastly improve any writing is to use strong, active, evocative verbs. First, by strong I mean verbs that are not overused to the point that the verb has become almost invisible, much like the verb said in a dialogue tag. In that case, writers want the verb to go unnoticed. However, just about everywhere else (because we can always find exceptions), writers, even nonfiction authors, want strong verbs. Think of the difference between made a face and scowled. Made a face uses the weak verb to make, simply meaning it’s overused to the point of numbness or banality.
Second, writers need active verbs. Let’s use the same example as above. Which has more action, made a face or scowled? A few more examples should clarify the idea, so think of the difference between played and jumped rope. Which one contains more action? How about pulled compared to tugged, hauled, or yanked?
Third, writers want evocative verbs. Once again, let’s take the examples above. Which conjures a more specific picture in your head: made a face or scowled? How about played and jumped rope—which one creates a more detailed image in your mind? Think about the verb to walk. If a character in your book walks, that paints a picture for readers, so to walk is a solid choice. However, a more precise verb—such as stride, sidle, or shuffle—evokes a more specific picture in readers’ heads. Go for specific.
When self-editing, carefully examine each verb for strength, action, and evocation. The following list includes the problem verbs (meaning they lack strength, action, or evocation) that I often encounter when I teach, edit, or judge writing contests or book awards.
To be verbs
Passive verbs
Filter verbs
Overused verbs
Adverb + verb
Helping verbs
Here in these self-editing pages, you can find a discussion of each of these problem areas. Go to the specific page for more detail on why the verbs in the above list create problems and how to fix sentences containing these dull, overused, or unevocative verbs.
Self-editing for excess words sometimes proves difficult because we think all our darlings are important. Not so. A good way to tighten writing—which almost always improves it—is to look at it clinically. Use the following list as a guide. If it’s on the list, evaluate whether the word or phrase pulls its weight. Sometimes a word might fit the chopping block list, yet you can keep it if it adds voice, characterization, mood, flow, or style. Otherwise, chop, chop!
It was/there was construction
Passive voice
Filter verbs
Multiple prepositions
Concluding prepositional phrases
Filler words and phrases
Dialogue filler words (interjections)
Adverbs and adjectives
Infinitive phrases
Begin to/start to
Nominalizations
Repeat words, phrases, or actions
Relative clauses
I don’t have room to discuss all these ideas here, but you can find many elsewhere on my website under Resources for Writers or Resources for Teachers. If you need more help on any of these bullet points, I also discuss them in my book Exceptional Writing: A Step-by-Step Guide for Indie Authors, Volume 1, Flow. With that said, these are the easiest excess words to remove, and now you know what to look for!
Hint: I use a simple trick to reduce my word count. I give myself an artificial limit. For example, if I have an article with 1,000 words, I restrict myself to 950. When I force such limits on my work, I quickly find the deadbeat words and eliminate them.