Slim Sentences, Plump Paragraphs

Want to know how to make your writing work better? Here’s a few easy tips for writing a book!

In my last post, I mentioned that most people tend to gravitate toward similar writing mistakes. While I still maintain that using dull verbs makes me cringe the most, I’d say abrupt paragraphs have clinched the second highest slot. Few things burn me more than when I read a paragraph that cuts off before it truly finishes.

Imagine reading a book where every paragraph just stops. Something like this:

She wandered through the damp forest, stepping over twisting roots and crushing mushrooms underfoot. Something cried out ahead—a strangled, furious scream. Palming her staff, she crouched and ducked behind a tree. Footsteps squelched against the forest floor, and fog curled around the tree. She had always gone to bed at ten.

Do you have any idea how many times I see paragraphs like that in a month? Every day, at least five times. I’m not exaggerating.

You might wonder what that last sentence is doing there. It introduces a new thought, and then just kinda leaves it to hang there, unfulfilled. Why is it relevant that she went to bed at ten? We can almost infer that it implies she’s not supposed to be out in the forest this late, but that’s a big burden to shove onto a reader’s shoulders. Why is it the reader’s job to make sense of this paragraph? It shouldn’t be. When you write, you ought to target your prose to an audience with an average reading comprehension. Even the savviest readers will burn out if you include too many paragraphs like that one.

So what could we do to repair this unfortunate paragraph? Well, that sentence is begging us to expand. We could easily get away with one or two clarifying sentences, and then we’d have the option to leave the paragraph with a final thought or end on a physical action—or we could even remove that sentence and return to the tense, yet complete, series of actions that established the paragraph. Either way, the paragraph needs to end on a complete thought. Whether that thought is verbal or mental—heck, even dialogical—the paragraph MUST conclude with a clear, concise idea.

Sometimes, you can get away with cutting a paragraph off early. Like this!

Other times, you need to put a little more effort into bringing your ideas to a close. I generally advise my authors to simplify their sentences and err on the side of thicker paragraphs. The generic “hamburger model” of a paragraph that most of us learned in school might seem simplistic, but when it works, it works well. Repeated too many times, however, it will fall flat. As with all things, variety matters most—and when you’re cooking with paragraphs, you’re the chef. You are responsible for your prose. It all comes down to the choices you make—even when you’re working with an editor. So get out there and do your best to fix those janky paragraphs! Using these tips for writing a book every day, you’ll polish that manuscript in no time!