Whoever has gone through the ecstasies and agonies of writing an essay knows the satisfaction (and quite often the sadness) of finishing. When you have done all of is ultius safe the work of figuring out what you want to say, arriving at an arguable and interesting thesis, analyzing your evidence, organizing your thinking, and contending with counter-arguments, you may possibly believe that you have nothing left to do but run spell-check, print it out and await your professor’s response. But what spell- check can not discern is really what readers that are real think or feel if they read your essay: where they could become confused, or annoyed, or bored, or distracted. Anticipating those responses could be the working job of an editor—the job you are taking on as you edit your very own work.
While you proceed, remember that sometimes what might seem like a small problem can mask (be a symptom of) a bigger one. A poorly-worded phrase—one that seems, say, unclear or vague—may just need some tweaking to correct; nonetheless it may indicate that your particular thinking hasn’t developed fully yet, that you’re not quite sure what you would like to express. Your language might be vague or confusing as the idea itself is. So learning, as Yeats says, to «cast a cold eye» on your own prose isn’t just a matter of arranging the finishing touches on the essay. It’s about making your essay better from the inside (clarifying and deepening your thinking and insights) and through the outside (expressing those ideas in powerful, lucid, graceful prose). These five guidelines often helps.
Once we labor over sentences, we are able to sometimes lose sight for the larger picture, of how all the sentences sound when they’re read quickly one after the other, as the readers will read them. Once you read out, your ear will pick up a few of the nagging problems your eye might miss.
She was bothered by a single pea buried beneath the pile of mattresses she lay upon as you read your essay, remember the «The Princess and the Pea,» the story of a princess so sensitive. As an editor, you intend to princess—highly be like the tuned in to something that seems slightly odd or «off» in your prose. So if something strikes you as problematic, do not gloss on it. Investigate to uncover the nature associated with the problem. It’s likely that, if something bothers you just a little, it will bother your readers a great deal.
Are typical of your words and phrases necessary? Or are they just taking up space? Are your sentences tight and sharp, or are they loose and dull? Don’t say in three sentences what you can say within one, and don’t use 14 words where five will do. You prefer every word in your sentence to add as meaning that is much inflection as you possibly can. Yourself what «own personal» adds when you see phrases like «My own personal opinion,» ask. Is not that what «my» means?
Even small, apparently unimportant words like «says» are worth your attention. In place of «says,» might you use a word like argues, acknowledges, contends, believes, reveals, suggests, or claims? Words like these not only create your sentences more lively and interesting, they offer useful information: he or she said that thing; «said» merely reports if you tell your readers that someone «acknowledges» something, that deepens their understanding of how or why.
3. Bear in mind the concept of le mot juste. Always look for an ideal words, the absolute most precise and language that is specific to state everything you mean. Without needing concrete, clear language, you cannot convey to your readers exactly what you think about a topic; you can only speak in generalities, and everybody has recently heard those: «The evils of society are a drain on our resources.» Sentences such as this could mean so many things you intended that they end up meaning nothing at all to your readers—or meaning something very different from what. Be specific: What evils? Which societies? What resources? Your readers are reading your words to see what you think, what you need certainly to say.
If you’re having trouble putting your finger on just the right word, consult a thesaurus, but only to remind yourself of one’s options. Never choose words whose connotations or usual contexts you do not really understand. Using language you are unfamiliar with may cause more imprecision—and that can lead your reader to question your authority.
4. Beware of inappropriately elevated language—words and phrases which can be stilted, pompous, or jargony. Sometimes, so that you can sound more reliable or authoritative, or more sophisticated, we puff up this sort to our prose of language. Usually we only end up sounding like we’re trying to sound smart—which is a sign that is sure our readers that individuals’re not. Because you think they’ll sound impressive, reconsider if you find yourself inserting words or phrases. If your ideas are great, you should not strain for impressive language; if they are not, that language won’t help anyway.
Inappropriately elevated language can derive from nouns getting used as verbs. Most elements of speech function better—more elegantly—when the roles are played by them these were meant to play; nouns work well as nouns and verbs as verbs. See the sentences that are following, and tune in to how pompous they sound.
He exited the room. It is important that proponents and opponents for this bill dialogue about its contents before voting about it.
Exits and dialogues work better as nouns and there are plenty of ways of expressing those ideas without turning nouns into verbs.
The room was left by him. People should debate the pros and cons for this bill before voting.
From time to time, though, this can be a rule worth breaking, like in «He muscled his solution to the front associated with the line.» «Muscled» gives us lots of information that might otherwise take several words or even sentences to convey. And given that it’s not awkward to see, but lively and descriptive, readers will not mind the temporary shift in roles as «muscle» becomes a verb.
5. Be tough in your most sentences that are dazzling. While you revise, you may find that sentences you needed in earlier drafts no more belong—and these may be the sentences you’re most partial to. We’re all guilty when trying to sneak within our favorite sentences where they do not belong, because we can’t bear to cut them. But writers that are great ruthless and certainly will throw out brilliant lines if they are no more relevant or necessary. They already know that readers will undoubtedly be less struck by the brilliance than by the inappropriateness of these sentences and they let them go.