Reducing Repetition and Redundancy in Your Novel
Make Your Writing Tighter, part 4
How to identify and remove repetition and redundancy in your fiction writing.
You might have heard the phrase ‘make every word count’. And you might have heard that ‘tight writing is good writing‘. But what do these phrases actually mean? What constitutes ‘tight writing’? What words might not be necessary? And what exactly is ‘telling twice’? Telling twice falls into two categories: REPETITION and REDUNDANCY.
There are four main areas where novelists fall into the trap of OVERWRITING, particularly when new to the craft:
– Over-direction
– Excessive timeline nudges
– Over-description
– Repetition and Redundancy (telling twice)
Many authors imagine scenes in their heads in a visual way. They see the characters as they move and interact. As a result, when they cast these imaginings into words they frequently over-describe the detail of what they are seeing. They underestimate the reader’s ability to work things out for themselves. In this final part of a four-part blog series, I offer a quick guide to understanding (and dealing with) the last of these issues – REPETITION and REDUNDANCY, OR TELLING TWICE.
1. Repetition
Repetition doesn’t necessarily mean repeating the same words. There are many (many!) ways to repeat yourself when writing a novel.
Punctuation
Firstly, punctuation. How can you repeat yourself using punctuation? See below!
“What?” she asked.
“What!” she exclaimed.
Both of these speech tags (she asked, she exclaimed) are repeating information already given to us by the punctuation within the speech marks (the question mark in the first example, the exclamation mark in the second). It’s not necessarily a bad thing – but if the speech tag isn’t required, then it’s better to leave it out. Let the punctuation speak for itself.
Have a look at this example:
Original: “That’s not—” She was interrupted before she could finish the sentence.
Edited: “That’s not—”
This is actually a TRIPLE tell. The em dash (—) is the punctuation mark to indicate that speech has been interrupted. Then the narrative states that she was interrupted. Then the narrative states that the interruption happened before she could finish her sentence. Where else would an interruption be?
This could quite simply stand as: “That’s not—”
Dialogue
Dialogue can quite often stand on its own, without the need for embellishment. But sometimes writers don’t trust their dialogue enough, and feel the need to back it up with a narrative explanation.
“I’m really worried about you.” David expressed his concern.
See the above example. It’s stating the same thing twice. First, the dialogue tells us that David is concerned. Then the narrative repeats the sentiment.
“I’m going to explain.” David felt the need to clarify.
Again, the speech, on its own, is perfectly sufficient. But there is a temptation to explain the speech within the narrative. In both the above examples, the dialogue/speech would stand perfectly well on its own, without a narrative explanation.
Adverbs
Lots of people (particularly editors) don’t really like adverbs. This is because adverbs can sometimes be used to strengthen a weak verb, when actually a stronger verb would have been a better choice. For example, “He stood up quickly” could be strengthened to “He jumped up”. But also, adverbs can be involved in a double-tell.
The snowflake floated slowly [can a snowflake float quickly?]
The man shouted loudly [can a shout be anything other than loud?]
The boy whispered quietly [can a whisper be anything except quiet?]
The athlete quickly sprinted away [is it possible to sprint in any other way?]
He briefly summarised the main points [can you summarise something in a lengthy way?]
In all of the above examples, the adverbs are unnecessary. They are effectively repeating the meaning of the verb. They add nothing except clutter.
Unnecessary Body Parts
Another example of a double-tell is when body parts are mentioned unnecessarily. He shrugged his shoulders (what else can you shrug?). He nodded his head (what else would you nod?). He clutched the papers in his hand (where else would you clutch them?). The default position is to clutch something in your hand. It’s possible to clutch something elsewhere, but unlikely. And if it’s being clutched anywhere except in your hands, then it’s fine to clarify. Maybe clutching a rose between your buttocks, for example.
Adjectives
The final example of a double-tell is where multiple adjectives – with almost identical meanings – are used consecutively.
The book was old and ancient.
The ground was firm and hard.
In the first example, old and ancient mean the same thing. Only one is needed. In the second example, firm and hard both mean the same thing. Again, only one is necessary.
2. Redundancy
She wore a blue-coloured sweater.
He placed the oval-shaped mirror on the wall.
In both these sentences, there is a redundant word. In the first example, the word ‘coloured’ is surplus to requirements. In the second, ‘shaped’ can be removed. So these become:
She wore a blue sweater.
He placed the oval mirror on the wall.
There is literally no change to the meaning of either of these sentences. Removing the superfluous words has no impact on the text. This is a classic case of redundancy.
Once you start looking for it, redundancy is everywhere:
They combined their winnings together. [Redundancy: together]
It was small in size. [Redundancy: in size]
He returned back to his seat. [Redundancy: back]
She was shorter in height than him. [Redundancy: in height]
That
I’ve heard of writing classes where students are instructed to revisit their manuscript and analyse every use of the word ‘that’. Although sometimes it’s necessary to include this word to maintain clarity, it can – very frequently – be removed completely. Specifically, when used in the following three situations.
1. After reporting verbs
He claimed that he didn’t know. [Becomes: He claimed he didn’t know.]
She suggested that it was wrong. [Becomes: She suggested it was wrong.]
She told me that she wasn’t going. [Becomes: She told me she wasn’t going.]
2. After adjectives
I’m disappointed that we aren’t going. [Becomes: I’m disappointed we aren’t going.]
He was sad that the party was cancelled. [Becomes: He was sad the party was cancelled.]
It’s unlikely that I will finish my homework. [Becomes: It’s unlikely I will finish my homework.]
3. As objects in relative clauses:
She loved the book that she’d bought. [Becomes: She loved the book she’d bought.]
He hated the book that he’d given her. [Becomes: He hated the book he’d given her.]
The tap that you fitted is broken. [Becomes: The tap you fitted is broken.]
Removing THAT in these circumstances definitely reduces redundancy, without affecting clarity. De-cluttering a sentence like this makes your writing infinitely smoother and more sophisticated.
In summary
Removing redundancy and repetition is ALWAYS a good idea. Even in the most literary novels, using words that mean the same thing adds nothing but clutter. Of course, there are words which are very similar but with subtly different meanings, and it’s completely acceptable to use these side by side – so long as the subtle differences are adding something, and that this is done consciously.
Repetition frequently happens when an author either doesn’t trust their writing to convey the correct meaning, or doesn’t trust the reader to comprehend, or both. The examples of repetition and redundancy that I’ve illustrated above will never help to make meaning clearer. Instead, they add words where words are not necessary. In this case, less (or fewer) is definitely more.
As a writer becomes more confident in their abilities, they will learn to trust their word selection, and trust their readers. They will learn to make every word count.