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AttendingtoStyle.pdf

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Adapted from material by the Odegaard Writing & Research Center: http://www.depts.washington.edu/owrc

Attending to Style

INTRODUCTION

Most of us know good style when we see it. We also know when a sentence feels awkward and

cumbersome. But it’s not always easy to say why a sentence–especially one that’s grammatically

correct—isn't working for us. We look at the sentence; we see that the commas are in the right

places; we find no error to speak of. So why is the sentence so awful? What's gone wrong?

When thinking about what makes a good sentence, it's important to put yourself in the place of your

reader. What does your reader hope to find in your sentences? Information, yes. Eloquence, yes.

But above all, a reader is looking for clarity. Your reader does not want to wrestle with your

sentences. She wants to read with ease. She wants to see one idea build upon the other. She wants

to see, without struggling, the emphasis of your language and the importance of your idea. Above

all, she wants to feel that you, the writer, are doing the bulk of the work, and not she, the reader.

In short, she wants to read sentences that are forceful, straightforward, and clear.

How do you manage to write these kinds of sentences? We hope to instruct you. The principles

below are drawn from Joseph Williams' Style: The Basics of Clarity and Grace. In this book, Williams

outlines ten ways to think about your sentences; if you want to improve as a writer, it’s worth

consulting the entire volume. For now, here are some of Williams’ key insights.

THE BASIC PRINCIPLES OF THE SENTENCE

PRINCIPLE ONE: FOCUS ON ACTORS AND ACTIONS

To understand what makes a good sentence, it's important to understand one principle: a sentence,

at its very basic level, is about actors and actions. Someone does something. The subject of a

sentence should point clearly to the actor—the doer—and the verb of the sentence should describe

the important action, or the something done.

This principle might seem so obvious to you that you don't think that it warrants further discussion.

But think again. Look at the following sentence, and then try to determine, in a nutshell, what is

wrong with it:

 There was uncertainty in President Clinton's mind about the intention of the Russians to

disarm their nuclear weapons.

This sentence has no grammatical errors, but it’s awkward. It lumbers along without any force.

Now consider the following sentence:

 President Clinton remained unconvinced that the Russians intended to disarm their nuclear

weapons.

We can point to the obvious differences, such as omitting the "there is" phrase, replacing the wimpy

"uncertainty" with the more powerful "remained unconvinced," and replacing the abstract noun

"intention" with the stronger verb "intended." But what principle governs these changes? The idea

that the actor in a sentence should serve as the sentence's subject, and the action should be

illustrated forcefully in the sentence's verbs: Someone does something. President Clinton remained

unconvinced. The Russians intended to disarm. Whenever you feel that your prose is confusing or

hard to follow, find the actors and the actions of your sentences. Is the actor the subject of your

sentence? Is the action a verb? If not, rewrite your sentence accordingly.

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Adapted from material by the Odegaard Writing & Research Center: http://www.depts.washington.edu/owrc

PRINCIPLE TWO: BE CONCRETE, NOT ABSTRACT

This principle follows from the recommendation to write with actors and actions. Instead of using

active verbs, student writers sometimes rely on abstract nouns: they use "expectation" instead of

"expect,” or "evaluation" instead of "evaluate.” Why use a noun when a verb would be more vivid

and concise? Many students believe that abstract nouns sound more "academic." But when you

write with a lot of abstractions, you end up putting yourself in a corner syntactically. Consider:

1. Nouns require prepositions. Too many prepositional phrases in a sentence are hard to

follow. Verbs, on the other hand, can stand on their own. If you need some proof for this

claim, consider the following sentence: An evaluation of the tutors by the administrative

staff is necessary in servicing our clients. Notice how many prepositional phrases these

nouns require. Now look at this sentence, which uses actors and actions, and is much easier

to read: The administrative staff evaluates the tutors so that we can serve our clients.

2. Abstract nouns invite the "there is" construction. Consider this sentence: There was

much discussion in the department about the upcoming tenure decision. We might rewrite

this sentence as follows: The faculty discussed who might earn tenure. The result, again, is

more direct and easier to read: we know exactly who discussed what.

In addition to these syntactic concerns, abstract nouns can obscure your ideas themselves.

3. Abstract nouns are, well, abstract. It’s hard to know what you mean by “her

expectations,” “his values,” or “the staff’s quality.” Using too many abstract nouns will make

your ideas feel vague and incomplete, as though you are naming a topic without saying

anything specific about it. Use concrete nouns and strong verbs to make your ideas precise.

4. Nouns and prepositions can hide your logic. Note how hard it is to follow the line of

reasoning in this sentence: Decisions in regards to the dismissal of tutors on the basis of

their inability to detect grammar errors in the papers of students rest with the Director of

Composition. Now consider this revision: When a tutor fails to detect grammar errors in

student papers, the Director of Composition must decide whether to dismiss her. You should

see how the abstract nouns force you to use opaque phrases like "on the basis of" or "in

regards to" (Who will regard what?). The second sentence is much clearer, relying on the

simple word “when” to illustrate the cause-effect connection.

The Exceptions: When to Use Abstract Nouns

Of course, writers will occasionally need to use abstract nouns. Sometimes, the abstract noun refers

to something that was stated concretely in a previous sentence ("these arguments," "this decision,"

etc.). Here, referring to the same information in a more abstract way produces cohesion between

sentences. In other instances, abstract nouns allow you to be more concise ("her needs" vs. "the

things she needed," “his decision” vs. “what he decided”).

In still other instances, the abstract noun is a concept important to your argument: artistic freedom,

romantic love, revolution, and so on. It will be vital for your paper to define this concept and provide

concrete examples—you can never assume that your reader shares your exact understanding of

something as big and abstract as “love” or “freedom.”

These exceptions are important to acknowledge. Still, if you examine your drafts, you’ll almost

certainly find that you overuse abstract nouns, and that omitting them from your writing will make

for clearer, more vivid prose.

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Adapted from material by the Odegaard Writing & Research Center: http://www.depts.washington.edu/owrc

PRINCIPLE THREE: BE CONCISE

First drafts are never concise. They use phrases when a single word will do, or offer pairs of

adjectives and verbs where one is enough. They often include redundancies, saying the same thing

two or three times with the hope that one of those instances will be relevant. Now, all’s fair in a first

draft, but when it comes to revising: Delete!

Do you need hedging adverbs like "actually," "basically," or "generally"? Isn't "first and foremost"

redundant? What is the point of "future" in "future plans?" How different are your “beliefs and

opinions” or “wishes and hopes”—can you just say “beliefs” or “hopes”? Delete, delete, delete!

Sometimes you won't be able to fix a longwinded sentence by deleting a few words; you'll have to

rewrite the whole thing. In these cases, start by finding your actors and actions. For example:

Plagiarism is a serious academic offense resulting in punishments that might include suspension or

dismissal, profoundly affecting your academic career. The idea can be expressed directly: If you’re

caught plagiarizing, you may be suspended or dismissed.

PRINCIPLE FOUR: BEGIN SENTENCES COHERENTLY, WITH FAMILIAR CONCEPTS

At this point in our discussion of style, we move from the sentence as a discrete unit to the way that

sentences fit together. Incoherence is a frequent problem in student writing, especially first drafts.

Professors often encounter papers in which all the necessary ideas seem to be there—somewhere—

but they are hard to follow. The sentences seem jumbled, as though they were cut and pasted in

random order. The line of reasoning is anything but linear, and the ideas fail to build on each other.

While coherence is a complicated matter, we have a trick that will help your sentences flow. As silly

as it sounds, we recommend that you "dress" your sentences like a bride in the old rhyme, with

something old and something new. Each sentence you write should begin with the old—that is, with

something that looks back to the previous sentence or the general topic of your paper. Then your

sentence should tell the reader something new, moving your ideas forward. If you do this, your line

of reasoning will be easy for your reader to follow.

While this advice sounds simple, it isn’t always easy to heed. Let's take the practice apart so that we

can better understand how sentences might be "well-dressed." Consider, first, the beginning of your

sentences—the coherence of your paper depends largely upon how well your sentences start. When

look at the beginning of a sentence, you have three things to consider:

1. Is your topic also the subject of your sentence? Usually, when a paper lacks coherence,

it’s because the writer hasn’t made sure that the TOPIC of each sentence is also the

grammatical SUBJECT. For instance, if I’m writing about Hitler's skill as a speaker, the

grammar of my sentence should reflect this: Hitler's skill as a speaker was more crucial to

the swift rise of the Nazi party than his skill as a politician. If I bury my topic in a subordinate

clause, it’s much harder to identify: The Nazi party’s rise to power, which came about

because of Hitler's skill as a speaker, was surprisingly swift. The principle here is simple: if

you’re making a claim about X, X should be the sentence’s grammatical subject.

2. Are the topics and subjects of your sentences consistent? For a paragraph to be

coherent, most of the sentences’ subjects should refer to the same person or concept. To

check for consistency, pick any paragraph in your current draft and list the subjects of your

sentences. Do the items on your list correspond to your main topic? For example, if you

wrote a paragraph about whales’ eating habits, do most of your sentences’ subjects refer to

“whales,” “eating,” “habits,” or pronouns replacing these nouns? Or are some of your

sentences about researchers, Sea World, and Jacques Cousteau? Of course, Sea World may

have a place in a paragraph about whales’ eating habits, but you’ll confuse your reader if it

winds up in the subject position too frequently; consciously or unconsciously, they will think

they’re learning not about whales or eating habits, but about Sea World.

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Adapted from material by the Odegaard Writing & Research Center: http://www.depts.washington.edu/owrc

3. Have you marked, when appropriate, the transitions between ideas? Coherence also

depends on how well you connect each sentence to the one that came before it. You will

want to make solid transitions between your sentences, using words such as however or

therefore. You will also want to signal to your reader whenever something important or

disappointing comes up, using expressions like it is important to note that, unfortunately,

etc. You might also need to indicate time or place in your argument. If so, you’ll use

transitions such as then, later, earlier, afterward, in my previous section, etc.

Be careful, however, not to overuse transitional phrases. Some writers think transitions can direct a

reader through an argument all by themselves. It’s true that sometimes a paragraph just needs a

"however" in order for the direction of its argument to make sense. But more often, the problem

with coherence doesn’t stem from a lack of transitions, but from the fact that the writer doesn’t

know how the ideas in adjacent sentences are related to each other. Don't rely on transitions alone

to bring sense to muddled prose. A therefore placed between two unrelated ideas doesn’t make

them related. In fact, it’s worse than using no transition at all: it will confuse your reader even more

by telling them to look for a relationship where no relationship exists!

PRINCIPLE FIVE: END SENTENCES EMPHATICALLY, WITH NEW INFORMATION

We have been talking about sentences and their beginnings, but what about the way sentences

end? If the beginnings of your sentences must look over their shoulders at what came before, the

ends of your sentences can forge ahead into new ground. Most of the work that each sentence

does—the new concept that that specific sentence adds to your paper—happens in the end, whether

that means the last three words or the entire predicate. Generally speaking, the beginning of your

sentence confirms your topic: the end of your sentence expresses a new idea about it.

It is the ends of your sentences, then, that must be clear and emphatic. To write emphatically,

follow these principles:

1. Declare your important idea at the end of your sentence. Shift your less important

ideas to the middle, keeping your topic and any transitions at the front.

2. Trim the ends of your sentences. Don't trail off into abstractions, don't repeat

yourself, and don't qualify what you've just said if you don't have to. Simply make your

point and move on. If you have more to say about that point, it can become the “old,”

familiar information at the beginning of the next sentence.

3. Use subordinate clauses for subordinate ideas. Put the important ideas in main

clauses, and the less important ideas in subordinate clauses. Rather than writing

Millennials are buying avocado toast instead of saving money for houses. Millennials are

people born between 1980 and 1995, embed the definition in a subordinate clause:

Millennials, who are the generation born between 1980 and 1995, are buying avocado

toast instead of saving money for houses.

4. Know where your sentences end. Compound sentences, especially those joined with

semi-colons, can make it hard for your reader to know which ideas to emphasize.

Consider this example: Interactive computer games teach children valuable skills; they

also encourage disturbing power fantasies. In this sentence, the fact that games teach

skills appears just as important as the fact that they encourage power fantasies, and

your reader would expect you to say an equal amount about both topics. On the other

hand, this sentence makes it clear that your paper will focus on how the games

encourage power fantasies: Although interactive computer games teach children

valuable skills, they also encourage disturbing power fantasies. And this sentence

emphasizes the emotional effect of those fantasies: Although interactive computer

games teach children valuable skills, they also encourage power fantasies that parents

may find disturbing.