OxfordCommaLover

What is a weasel word or filler word?

Filler words add bulk to your writing without adding meaning. For example, if you’re writing in a rigid first or third person PoV, there’s rarely any need to write, “He saw that the light was on.” You can just write, “The light was on.” You lose zero meaning by cutting out the “he saw that.” The reader already know who is looking at the light because we know whose head we are observing events from. Another common form of weasel word is an interjection in the midst of a sentence - the friend who first introduced me to the concept explained it as, “our brains don’t know exactly what comes next so it just puts a word in as the mental equivalent of a pause or ‘um.’” And that explanation contained (at least) two such words - “exactly” and “just,” both of which could be cut from that sentence without impacting the meaning. Time words are also often filler words - there are few times where you actually need to say “in a moment;” context usually communicates the sequence of events clearly.

Also be on the lookout for long phrases that can be replaced by a single word - for example, “cut down on” and “reduced” are synonyms. Using a single specific word, provided it’s not too obscure a word, is often a better choice.

Cutting out weasel/filler words gives your writing more punch and immediacy; bulky, unnecessary extra words form a filter between your reader’s experience of your writing and the visceral experiences that you, as a writer, are trying to communicate. Reducing their usage really strengthens a story.

Different authors have different filler words they are prone to. What counts as a filler word will also depend on context, writing style, personal preference, etc. This is especially true when writing dialog - one character’s weasel word is another’s regular way of talking. Still, there are many words that if I see them in my writing, I pause and think, “okay, do I really need that word there?”

I’ve seen a lot of posts that list specific types of weasel words (ie, filler nouns versus nonsense adverbs) but I’ve never just seen a comprehensive list of words to look out for - words that, while they won’t always be filler words, are often unnecessary and should be scrutinized when writing. 

General things to remember:

Be declarative. Avoid constructions like, “it seemed like” in favor of constructions like “it was.” This is your story. Be firm. Be bold. Be confident.

Be wary of adverbs. Generally speaking, an adverb is worth using if you’re subverting the meaning of the word being modified, and unnecessary if you’re reinforcing the meaning of the word being modified. “She smiled maliciously” is a good adverb use, because saying someone smiled in no way implies they’re being malicious; “she smiled kindly” is not a great adverb use, because smiling is generally kind - this kind of usage could still be appropriate but only depending on context and character. For example, if you’ve established that your character is rarely kind, it might be important to specify that this particular smile is atypical for this character. But in most contexts, “she smiled kindly” is redundant and kindly is a weasel word that should be cut.

Interjections such as “wow” and “like” and “sure” in dialog are often weasel words, especially if they are repetitious with what comes after. For example, if one characters says, “Would you like to go to the mall?” and another replies, “yeah, that’d be awesome” you can cut the word “yeah” without impacting the meaning at all. Also, if you have a character nod or shake their head, there’s literally zero reason to also have them say “yes” or “no.” Pick either the word or the gesture. Yes, casual repetition like that is how people actually speak but it doesn’t make for strong writing. Ages ago I read a great article about this that has, sadly, been lost to time. The gist of it was, think of every phone call in every movie or TV show you’ve ever seen. In a “real” phone call, we start with hello and small talk, but on screen, they never waste time with that, they launch right into significant dialog because seconds are precious on screen. When writing fictional dialog, try to do the same - you don’t need to put every nuance of real-life conversation in, just enough to establish tone, and then focus on what the characters are trying to communicate. Even if your character hems and haws a lot, putting in “uh” every sentence or two is incredibly tiresome to read. Remember how quickly a reader will consume your work and give readers credit for their memory. Put in enough to convey the idea of a normal conversation without slavishly reproducing how people really talk. (this honestly could be its own entire post, but this is at least a start on the topic with a focus on how it relates to cutting out unnecessary words…). Basically: if you’re writing a conversation and having the characters say “hello” will a. be assumed and b. add nothing, don’t write it.

Passive voice introduces more unnecessary words than active voice. Compare: “I fed the cat” vs “the cat was fed by me.” Words are added, the sentence is clunky, and would anyone actually…say the second? Like ever? This is not to say “don’t use passive voice.” Passive voice has functions, and occasionally using the clunkier construction will also help with varying up your sentences and keeping your writing interesting. But use it thoughtfully and wisely.

Often, weasel words will be different in narrative versus dialog. When deciding what counts as a weasel word, always keep in mind the tone, education, world view, and attitudes of your Point of View character or that of the person speaking. One character’s weasel word is another character’s voice. (Sorry, I know this contradicts some of the above - I never said this was easy. :) )

Redundant usage can turn a word that wouldn’t usually be a weasel word into a weasel word. This is especially true of adverbs ( “she slammed the door loudly” is redundant, and many other adverbs in place of “loudly” would be equally redundant, given everything implied by the word “slammed.”) For another example, “The powerful man lifted the heavy stone with an impressive show of strength” has multiple levels of redundancy - which you choose to keep is up to you but you don’t need to specify that he was powerful and it was heavy and that lifting it was impressive and that it was a show of strength. All four suggest the same thing, so only one is needed. “The man lifted the stone with a show of strength” conveys the same meaning, or you can find other ways to add the nuance without being repetitious, such as, “Muscles bulging with effort, the man lifted the heavy stone.” Same idea, less redundant - gives an idea how the man reacts, and thus more subtly communicates that the stone is heavy instead of beating the reader over the head with “HAVE I MENTIONED THE ROCK IS HEAVY?”

Specificity is your best friend. Don’t be vague if you can be specific. Don’t generalize when you can be specific. Don’t hedge your bets (“it was kind of like…”) when you can be specific. If you want the reader to understand and believe the thing…just say it.

Here’s a list of some common weasel words and phrases. If an entry is in bold it means I have provided a further explanation below the list. (having explanations integrated in the list made it clunky and hard to read)

A: about; absolutely; accordingly; actually; additionally; again; all; already; also; always; and; “as a matter of fact;” “as far as I’m concerned;” at least; at most; “at the present time/at the end of the day;” audible

B: back; basically; to be ~ing; to begin; “being ~”; to believe; both; briefly; but

C: certainly; clearly; closely; completely; “cut down on”

D: definitely; down

E: each; either; entirety; even; exactly; extremely

F: fact; fairly; to feel; finally; “for all intents and purposes;” “for the most part”

G: “going to do ~”

H: to hear; hence; herself/himself/themselves/myself; his/her/their/my own

I: ignored; “in a moment/second;” in addition; increasingly

J: just

K: kind of; to know

L: like; literally; to look

M: maybe; momentarily; mostly; much

N: nearly; no; “not long after;” now

O: obvious; of; often; once more; only

P: pretty; probably

Q: quite

R: rather; to realize; really; right

S: to see; seriously; silently; slightly; so; some; somehow; somewhat; “soon after;” sort of; to start; still; suddenly; surely

T: that; then; to think; though; thus; together; totally

U: to understand; up

V: very; virtually

W: to wonder

Y: yes

Explanations:

audible: eg, “the door closed with an audible click” versus “the door closed with a click.” if your character heard the noise, it’s already audible. Using both is redundant.

to be ~ing: eg, “I’ll be going to prom” versus “I’m going to prom.”

to begin: eg, “They began to sing” versus “They sang.”

“being ~”: eg, “they were being active” versus “they were active.”

to believe: eg, “I believed I’d found the perfect dress” versus “I’d found the perfect dress.”

to feel: eg, “She felt the pain as the needle pricked her” versus “The prick of the needle was painful.”

“going to do ~”: eg, “we’re going to try to go to the park” versus “we planned to go to the park” versus “we went to the park”

to hear: eg, “He heard her say his name” versus “She said his name.”

herself/himself/themselves/myself: can often be cut if it’s clear that the action being done applies to the PoV character.

ignored: eg, “he was annoying, so I ignored him.” “To ignore” means “refuse to notice or acknowledge.” Having a character say they ignore something is to have them explicitly notice or acknowledge the thing in question. While it can work contextually, it often reads weirdly. 

to know: eg, “I know we talked about this” versus “We talked about this.”

to look: eg, “They looked and saw the sunrise” versus “They watched the sunrise.”

no: see “yes,” below.

of: eg, “I jumped off of the ledge” versus “I jumped off the ledge.”

once more: that an action or behavior is repeated is usually obvious from context, and language explicitly indicating a repeat is best used to lampshade that the repeat was intentional by the author instead of accidental

pretty: eg, in the sense of “the sky was pretty clear,” not in the sense of “she was pretty.”

to realize: eg, “I realized there was no solution” versus “There was no solution.”

said nothing: there are a lot of similar constructions to this (eg, “didn’t reply,” “couldn’t answer”) and they’re almost all unnecessary. Unless you’re aiming to lampshade the silence, it’s better to indicate that someone said nothing…by simply not having them say something.

to see: eg, “I saw the man jump over the fence” versus “The man jumped over the fence.”

silently: eg, “she padded silently across the room” versus “the padded across the room.” If something is silent, it’s best communicated by simply not having the thing make a sound.

to start: see “to begin,” above.

that: in many contexts “that” adds no meaning. For example, “She wanted to know that he cared” versus “She wanted to know he cared.”

to think: eg, “She thought he looked cool” versus “He looked cool.”

to understand: eg, “He understood the water was wet” versus “The water was wet.”

very: there are some excellent lists of synonyms for “very + ~word,” single words you can use, eg, “very big” versus “enormous.” Here’s one such list.

to wonder: see “to think,” above.

yes: this is a strange one, but frequently in dialog it’s not necessary to have a character explicitly say yes or no - it’s often clear from context - and including the yes/no reply and then giving an explanation that reiterates that is often clunky and unnecessary

References and Further Reading:

10 Filler Words to Cut From Your Writing

297 Flabby Words and Phrases

43 Words You Should Cut From Your Writing Immediately

How to Condense Without Losing Anything Useful

Thesaurus.com

Remember, this is not meant as a hard and fast list of “words to not use.” Writing is about context; in some contexts these will be the correct words to use, and in others, they will be inappropriate. The key to dealing with weasel words is to make sure you use them at times they add meaning to what you’re writing and to cut them when they do not add meaning. Learning to recognize the difference is difficult and takes time, but gets easier with practice and is well worth getting good at. One of the quickest ways to really improve your writing is to read it with a critical eye, learn to recognize which of the above you over use most (everyone has different ones they tend towards…mine are “though” and “just.”) So go to it - read those sentences, figure out which words add meaning and which don’t, and pull out the red pen!

Words to describe combat scenes. (Found it on pinterest, that is why I couldn’t reblog directly)

• Adverse means detrimental and does not mean averse or disinclined.

Correct: “There were adverse effects.” / “I’m not averse to doing that.”

• Begs the question means assumes what it should be proving and does not mean raises the question.

Correct: “When I asked the dealer why I should pay more for the German car, he said I would be getting ‘German quality,’ but that just begs the question.”

• Bemused means bewildered and does not mean amused.

Correct: “The unnecessarily complex plot left me bemused.” / “The silly comedy amused me.”

• Disinterested means unbiased and does not mean uninterested.

Correct: “The dispute should be resolved by a disinterested judge.” / “Why are you so uninterested in my story?”

• Enormity means extreme evil and does not mean enormousness. [Note: It is acceptable to use it to mean a deplorable enormousness.]

Correct: The enormity of the terrorist bombing brought bystanders to tears. / The enormousness of the homework assignment required several hours of work.

• Fortuitous means coincidental or unplanned and does not mean fortunate.

Correct: Running into my old friend was fortuitous. / It was fortunate that I had a good amount of savings after losing my job.

• Homogeneous is pronounced as homo-genius and “homogenous” is not a word but a corruption of homogenized.

Correct: The population was not homogeneous; it was a melting pot.

• Ironic means uncannily incongruent and does not mean inconvenient or unfortunate.

Correct: “It was ironic that I forgot my textbook on human memory.” / It was unfortunate that I forgot my textbook the night before the quiz.

• Luxuriant means abundant or florid and does not mean luxurious.

Correct: The poet has a luxuriant imagination. / The car’s fine leather seats were luxurious.

• New Age means spiritualistic, holistic and does not mean modern, futuristic.

Correct: He is a fan of New Age mindfulness techniques. / That TV screen is made from a high-end modern glass.

• Noisome means smelly and does not mean noisy.

Correct: I covered my nose when I walked past the noisome dump. / I covered my ears when I heard the noisy motorcycle speed by.

• Parameter means a variable and does not mean a boundary condition, a limit.

Correct: The forecast is based on parameters like inflation and interest rates. / We need to work within budgetary limits.

• Simplistic means naively or overly simple and does not mean simple or pleasingly simple.

Correct: His simplistic answer suggested he wasn’t familiar with the material. / She liked the chair’s simple look.

• Tortuous means twisting and does not mean torturous.

Correct: The road through the forest was tortuous. / Watching their terrible acting for two hours was a torturous experience.

I dream of the day when I won’t have to look at this fucking chart….

I saw this in a reblog from @omgitsthatgingergirl​ and I’m ridiculous, so I totally tried it immediately. I entered the following:

***** Cas stopped again. He rolled his head and raised his arms partway in a gesture of complete exasperation.

Dean noticed his wings mirrored the arm gesture exactly. They also arched a bit and seemed to bristle. It looked shockingly Cas-like and it occurred to Dean that those weren’t just things growing out of Cas’s back. Those wings actually were Cas - the real Cas - perfectly expressing the same defensive fury and shitty attitude currently coming from the angel’s vessel. Dean knew he’d think it was really cool if his friend weren’t being such a dick.

“IF…there were something I needed to tell you, I would tell you. There isn’t. I’m fine. Now can we please get inside before someone or something spots us?”

Dean sighed in disgust and shook his head. “Yeah. You’re fine. Got it.” He spat the words out, more frustrated with the angel than he had been in a very long time. He was the one to restart their march toward the bunker. His stride was just as fast and angry as Cas’s had been. *****

And the algorithm, which I’m sure is rigorous and scientific and highly objective, said “You write like Stephen King” And I’m totally claiming it. This is mine, now. I write like a fabulously successful professional writer! Fight me!

It’s highly likely I’m gonna spend at least another hour messing with this thing, because there’s something wrong with me, and my need for validation as a writer is somehow fed even by bullshit like this.

I found an excerpt that was written entirely from a very worried and concerned Sam’s POV and it came back with Stephenie Meyer (i.e. author of Twilight)

That is just…lol  Omg…that is delightful. Like…who the hell am I? I’m a blunt horror writer when it’s Dean or Cas, but when it’s Sam, apparently I bust out my inner emo girl. I am dying over here. Send help.

© (c ) copyright 1990-2011 Rebecca Sinclair

casafrass replied to your post “Hello! It’s me again. Gosh, so I’m feeling a little lost with this…”

Yes, this helps lots! I wasn’t sure how close the story needs to be to either one… guess it all depends, then. I tend to overthink, when what I should really do is just write. Thanks again!

@casafrass had a great point here, I bet lots of y’all can empathize - I know I sure can! I think of ol’ Jenna up there in that gif, partly because it speaks to my warped sense of humor but also because I thought - wow, what I’d pay to see that first draft. And children’s book, so it’s thematic. (Y’all please don’t write about baby hookers - I’m *so* gonna get in trouble with @littlegreenplasticsoldier and @deandoesthingstome if you do.😆)

In any event, you’re right - I heartily believe trying out ideas, even ones as nutty as Jenna’s, is what’ll get us to the goods. Once you see it “on paper”, as it were,  you’ll intuitively know what to start trashing vs. what to keep, to start fleshing out. Picturing stuff in our minds is the starting point, yet something about getting eyes on the situation (a.k.a. - “seeing is believing”), having that tangible experience, often makes it “click” better *.

So, a tip from me personally to y’all? If you’re indecisive and/or find yourself hitting walls?

Try pounding out some bullet points of things you for sure want to include (like how you want it to begin and end) and/or knocking out some scenes you for sure want to include (dialogue, something specific you want your characters to see, etc.) first, then see if the rest starts to fall into place around them.

If you’ve never drafted a story this way? Give it a try. It might not be a trick you’ll use regularly in the future, but at least you’re getting stuff out of your head and organized, uncorking it, letting it breathe. - Nash

You may have heard that titles don’t matter, and that they won’t make or break your career.  Whoever told you that is either grievously uninformed or a filthy liar.

A title must do the following:

Capture attention.

Pique curiosity. 

Be unique. 

Be memorable.

Encapsulate the theme of the story.

End world hunger.

Okay, maybe not the last one.  But you get the idea.  

Like cover art, your title can determine whether or not anyone will actually read your book.  Also like cover art, you probably shouldn’t name it like a twelve-year-old with a DeviantArt account. 

But how do you check off such an extensive yet vital list of criteria?  Well, being the magnanimous individual that I am, I’ll tell you.  

Let’s take a short journey through five of my personal favorite approaches:

1.  Use metaphor.

(GIF source.)

Some of the most memorable and iconic titles are derived from metaphor, allegory, and simile.  If you have a metaphor that encapsulates your book’s theme or tone, consider using it for your title.  

When done correctly, these will also provoke interest from prospective readers, as they will have to read your book to put the metaphor into context.

Examples:  

The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger

Life of Pi, Yann Martel

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith

100 Years of Solitude, Gabriel García Márquez

Of Mice and Men, John Steinbeck

To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee

Lord of the Flies, William Golding

2.  Ask a question.

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Is there a fundamental question your book is asking?  (There probably should be, but that’s a topic for another day.)  If so, consider presenting it to the reader from the get-go.

These questions can be existential or personal, metaphorical or literal.  But they should make the reader want to know the answer.

Note that you can get creative about this.  A question doesn’t have to be one you ask the reader, but one you provoke the reader to ask themselves.  Like, “Did this author really spoil the ending with their title?  I’ll have to read and find out!”  As you’ll see in the titles below.  

Examples:  

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick

Are You There, God?  It’s Me, Margaret, by Judy Bloom 

Where’d You Go, Bernadette? by Maria Semple

Skippy Dies, by Paul Murray

John Dies at the End, by David Wong

3.  Invoke a character’s voice.

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Ask yourself how your protagonist or viewpoint character would choose to title their story.  

Ask yourself who this person is.  Are they an angsty teen?  A plucky optimist?  Self-conscious?  Ironic?  Morose?  Sassy?  

Your viewpoint character should essentially control the tone of your novel, and the title should be reflective of such. 

Examples:

My Big Nose and Other Natural Disasters, by Sydney Salter

Everything I Never Told You, by Celeste Ng

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?  (And Other Concerns), by Mindy Kaling

Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro 

4.  Utilize the setting, or a memorable place, object, or event.

(GIF source.)

Is there a place, object, or event at the heart of your story?  Maybe its a restaurant that is to your ensemble what the Central Perk is to the cast of Friends, a stuffed animal or piece of jewelry that serves as the story’s MacGuffin, a book that holds the secrets to the protagonist’s identity.  

Or maybe it just, for one reason or another, perfectly encapsulates the tone and philosophy of your story.  

I seem to be partial to this one, because it’s how I chose to name three of my novels:  An Optimist’s Guide to the Afterlife (named after a book handed out to the recently deceased), General Tso’s Chicken From Outer Space (named after a Chinese food restaurant in a UFO hotspot town), and Diner at the End of the World (named after a diner frequented by Eldritch Horrors.) 

Examples:

‘Salem’s Lot, by Stephen King

The Road, by Cormac McCarthy

The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, by Douglas Adams

Jurassic Park, by Michael Crichton

Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett 

The Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien 

5.  Introduce the protagonists (but get creative about it.)

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In ye olden times, an opulence of great literature popped up that was named after specific characters.  Think Anna Karenina, Oliver Twist, David Copperfield, Don Quixote, The Great Gatsby, and Jane Eyre.  You can still do this–lots of authors still do, and it works great if you have a particular cool or quirky name–but in an already saturated market, it’s probably a good idea to put a twist on it.

I’ve observed three ways to go about this.  First, you can introduce the main character and major conflict/theme of your story. 

Examples: 

Simon Vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, by Becky Albertalli

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, by Benjamin Alire Sáenz

The Miseducation of Cameron Post, Emily M. Danforth

Approach number two:  introduce the readers to the group of people your story is about.

Examples:

The Help, by Kathryn Stockett

American Gods, by Neil Gaiman

The Twelve Tribes of Hattie, by Ayana Mathis

The Vacationers, by Emma Straus

Crazy Rich Asians, by Kevin Kwan

And approche trois, name the title of a main character, particularly if it’s memorable and plays a large part in the story.

Examples:

The Giver, by Lois Lowry 

The Obituary Writer, by Ann Hood

The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, by Laurie R. King

The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien

The Martian, by Andy Weir

These are just a few of my favorite methods of naming stories!  To my followers, I invite you to add more, and to share your own favorite titles.

Other sources:

How to Come Up With the Perfect Title For Your Novel

How to Choose Your Novel’s Title:  Let Me Count 5 Ways

7 Tips to Land the Perfect Title For Your Novel

How to Find Good Titles For Your Novel

How to Name Your First Novel

How to Title Your Novel

Alternative words

Here’s some questions I’ve been answering for my MCs during my character development phase! Feel free to add on your own

What do they each have to lose?

What does it mean for each of them to be in love? (Most useful for romance genres)

What are they attracted to?

How’s their family life?

How’s their social life?

What do they like about each other? (What attracts them to each other in the first place, and then what makes them stick around?)

What’s their sexual and romantic history?

What are they skilled in?

How’s their school experience? (Most useful for YA and NA)

What are their hobbies?

Are they an introvert, extrovert, or ambivert?

Are they right brained, left brained, or balanced?

What are their most prevalent strengths and weaknesses?

What are their goals and dreams?

What are their fears and insecurities?

What do they believe in?

I try my hardest to keep my reader inserts as generic as possible. Which is hard. I mean, my fingers are flowing along writing about “Y/N tossing her hair over her shoulder” - but wait. What if my reader has short hair? What if she has a ponytail? What if she has alopecia? 

It’s hard to please everyone. Not one single person is the same. Someone told me the other day that people of color can’t blush visibly. Ever since, when I’ve wrote that the reader was “blushing”, I’ve changed it to something like “her cheeks heated” or “her skin felt flushed”. Because it’s the same physical function but I get it, with darker skin, you can’t see it as much.

These things play on my mind a lot. I don’t want to make anyone feel left out. But you also gotta think… there’s over 7 billion people in the world. Everyone is different. Not everyone “pads” their feet, some people can’t help but stomp. Personally, I’ve got a tooth missing at the front of my mouth, but when the reader “smiles brilliantly”, I have to overlook it. I don’t smile. I look like gappy mcgappyson.

I absolutely agree with both sides of the argument, trust me. It’s frustrating that every reader is not me. Because I’m craving the fantasy. And at the same time, it’s very frustrating that I cannot tailor that fantasy to every single person who reads it.

I’m gonna tag a few people who I’d be interested hearing from on this:

Prompt: I was the blunt instrument they chose to use when tact failed.