Today’s publishing market is a media-content glutton. Whether authoring fiction or nonfiction, we find ourselves churning out articles, posts, presentations, interviews, newsletters, and memes.
Credibility is everything. We want our words to ring true, relevant, and original. That’s how we grab a reader’s attention and make them want to read more, how we build an ongoing readership—how we become an established author with a following.
Full disclosure here: I’ve been called the cliché police by my editing clients. That’s because nothing will stamp you as unoriginal, bland, and of dubious authority as will the use of cliches that cast aspersions on your creativity and believability. Here are seven to avoid.
- “I’m not gonna lie”
Before you qualified what you’re about to say by suggesting there are times when you do lie, your readers assumed you to be a trustworthy source. Now they wonder why you had to say that, and whether it means that statements you don’t preface with “I’m not gonna lie” are untrue.
Gotta love Urban Dictionary’s definition of the phrase: “A term that when prefixed to a statement does more damage than good.”
Whether you’re trying to establish authenticity, reveal an endearing vulnerability, or defend yourself against an unpopular stance, a strong standalone statement will have more impact on your readers.
- “Trust me”
If you have to fall back on “Trust me” to gain the compliance or confidence of others, you haven’t taken actions or provided the information or perspectives that instill trust. Show, don’t tell us. Trust is earned, never an entitlement, a demonstration of integrity and engagement. There’s no shortcut directive for that.
- “. . . of all time”
Even the Big Bang 13 billion years ago doesn’t encompass “of all time” because what about the moment before the Big Bang? Time is infinite; human recorded history is only a few thousand years. How silly it sounds to classify something like television shows, football players, mobile apps, and running shoes as the best “of all time” when they’ve been around less than 100 years.
Describing something as “best” (top, greatest, whatever) needs no timestamp qualification. “Cherry Garcia is my favorite ice cream.” is quite clear.
- “Let that sink in.”
Using this junk phrase means you either didn’t use language clear enough to make your point, or you believe your reader lacks the intellect to know when you’ve made an important point.
It’s condescending. Let that sink . . . see what I mean?
- “I know this sounds stupid, but . . .”
Chances are no one thought you sounded stupid until you suggested it. They thought you sounded like an engaged thinker. Ask a question, make a statement, pose a thought—but own it. Project confidence.
- “Must ____!”
When I’m assaulted by must-read or must-have or must-do, I think of Deborah Kerr in The King and I when told she must go to the King at once. Tossing that fabulous yard-long red hair over her shoulder, she replies, “Indeed? And why must I?”
Must directives are particularly silly when they’re all but impossible. 100 Must-Try Christmas Desserts! 40 Must-Go Vacation Spots! 30 Must-Buy Gadgets!
This reader-writer Must-Take Nap!
If you can’t articulate the value of an object or idea, perhaps it’s not so vital after all?
- “At the end of the day”
Unless you’re referring to the actual evening hours or the end of a work shift, this verbal clutter indicates you don’t think the statement that follows it is strong enough on its own. Contrast “At the end of the day, the course of treatment doesn’t seem to be working.” with “The course of treatment hasn’t worked.”
Proper use: “At the end of the day, I reviewed the ten pages I’d written and rejoiced at finding them free of cliches."
Condensed from Ellen Notbohm’s fiction blog, The Writer by Starlight, 19 April 2022 https://ellennotbohm.com/writer-beware-seven-stale-cliches-that-weaken-your-writing/
