One of the surest ways to educate yourself about common writing pitfalls is to read other people's drafts, and then try to find the same infractions in your own work. Whether through workshops or private critique groups, you may find that you're more adept at recognizing structural problems in other people's work than in your own, especially when you begin. 

Don't waste time trying to figure out why. I've been guilty of all of the things I'm about to discuss, and probably will be again. Just try your best to apply what you learn.  

The writer who cares more about words than about story – characters, action, setting, atmosphere – is unlikely to create a vivid and continuous dream; he gets in his own way too much; in his poetic drunkenness, he can't tell the cart – and its cargo – from the horse. (John Gardner)

You're reading an interesting scene, a good one. The characters' stakes are high, and you're anxious to see who gets shot. And then you read something like, "But Dorothy wasn't the type of woman to liked having a gun pointed at her; in fact, her blood came to an urgent, trembling boil." 

Bang. The gun goes off, but it's the reader's concentration that's shot.  

Unless you're writing a spoof, try to avoid interrupting your story's action with an editorial or an internal monologue. It's analogous to a sword-wielding actor suddenly turning to the camera to explain his fencing strategy. When this happens on the page, it's just as obvious and unwanted -- an author intrusion that indicates no trust for the reader's sensibilities, a conviction that the reader must be told what's going on instead of shown.  Worse, it indicates a lack of confidence on the writer's part in allowing dialogue or action to convey the same sentiment in a way that advances a deeper understanding of the character, and in a way that will actually interest the reader.   

It's hard as a writer to relinquish that control, but these interruptions are easy to recognize once you know to look for them. Try to focus instead on what the character does or what she is feeling -- not what physiologically happens to her. Remember Dwight Swain's concept of scene and sequel. Focus your scene on the action, and the sequel on reflection and character development. Both should advance your story, and not state the obvious. Don't disturb the dream.   

Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader. Not the fact that it is raining, but the feeling of being rained upon. (E.L. Doctorow) 

You can take for granted that people know more or less what a street, a shop, a beach, a sky, an oak tree look like. Tell them what makes this one different. (Neil Gaiman)

The same holds true for describing physical -- or physiological -- actions or reactions. Analyze your writing for scenes in which your characters are "whirling around" or "turning their heads from side to side" or "hopping on one foot" or "dodging first one car and then another." Similarly, too much blood boiling, guts roiling, hearts pounding, sweats breaking, and knees shaking makes your characters sound like marionettes -- cartoonish and unrealistic, even freakish.

What your reader wants to know is what your characters are thinking and feeling and doing. The physiological expression of their emotion is a copout. We know what we feel like when we break a sweat, or the conditions that would make this happen to us. But in that respect it is a cliched human response. It's a stage direction, like waving ones arms in the air or pulling one's hair. 

We know what this means in cartoons. These kinds of descriptions come easily to us because there is a common understanding of what they generally mean within the human experience. But they are caricatures. They disrupt the flow of writing, and are used frequently because the writer doesn't know what else to say. This may be an indicator that the writer is not in complete touch with the characters. But what do they mean uniquely for your characters? What is it you're really trying to say? What is most important about the cartoonish action for your readers to understand? 

Eliminating these physical descriptions from the page will rejuvenate your writing and give your story's pacing a sense of immediacy. By all means, use these expressions as placeholders if you can't think of anything else in the frenzy of composition. But when you revise, eliminate them with a vengeance.  


...a really great novel is made with a knife and not a pen. A novelist must have the intestinal fortitude to cut out even the most brilliant passage so long as it doesn't advance the story. (Frank Yerby)

The most essential gift for a good writer is a built-in, shock-proof shit detector. (Ernest Hemingway)

I was reading a draft novel written by a friend and I was struck by the sudden reappearance of a character from the protagonist's past. I wrote in the margin, "This better go somewhere."

It didn't. But my friend -- transparently -- wanted the reader to think it would.

Hey, look over there! Something shiny!

Red herrings -- the tactic of introducing a person or activity that goes nowhere relative to your main plot -- is a device that most readers recognize because their built-in shit detectors are better than yours. Its sudden appearance is suspect, and if you later take it away or have it come to a dead end, especially with no explanation, there goes your credibility as a storyteller    

Ask yourself if it would be better to suggest -- or actually involve -- another character in a deception. Ask yourself how, from the beginning of your story, you can establish ambiguity or tension in a non-contrived manner. Rather than sudden appearances or re-appearances, can your red herring have a more constant or frequent presence on the page? Can he be suspiciously or conveniently "around" at critical moments? After key actions? Readers will suspect things, even if -- perhaps especially if -- you don't state them.

Try to establish these predicaments with the idea that you want your reader to return to your novel to see if you slipped up, or if they can "spot" the hint that things are not as they were led to suspect by your plotting. 

The movie The Sixth Sense provides a good example of this. Remember watching it the second time to see if you could spot the bullet hole in the shirt? 

The same holds true for unlikely lapses on the part of a character in an effort to allow certain things to happen. A detective doesn't notice that the light bulb outside his door is out before he's stabbed. As in Michael Clayton, Clayton doesn't notice that a bomber is getting out of his car when he's only several feet away -- no matter how engrossing the phonecall. These are easily resolved -- the detective can sense an unfamiliar darkness a split second before he's hit; Clayton could have been about to turn a corner onto the street where his car was parked, in full view of the accomplice.

These characters are smart, savvy people who are good at their jobs and deserve to be respected. They would notice things like this, and can simultaneously be jumped unawares.


When you write, try to leave out all the parts readers skip. (Elmore Leonard)

In one draft of a novel I read, each chapter was written from a particular character's point of view. With each subsequent chapter, the writer would restate, in exposition, some of the key actions or points that had been conveyed in the last point-of-view chapter for that same character.

Trust your readers. They will remember. Always move your story forward, not backward. If you think of a better way to say something, go back to the original spot and change it. 

This principle can also apply to writing that contains technical information. As with SHAKEDOWN, a balance must be struck between including too much technical information that doesn't matter, and enough such that people with your same subject knowledge or background will find the story's technical machinations believable. If your reader can skip this information without losing anything critical, and if your technically-minded readers believe in its plausibility, then everyone's happy and you've done the job.     

All quotes can be found on the following website. Attribution is assumed to be correct. 
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