A brown-haired woman sits behind a laptop smiling because she has learned how to improve her writing skills.

Improve Your Writing Skills with These 5 Epiphanies

The internet is full of advice about how to improve your writing skills. They all say roughly the same things—write frequently, read a lot, know your audience, seek feedback. And that’s fine advice, but it won’t help you with the nuts and bolts.

I’m nuts, and I’m here with a bucket of bolts for you. You’re welcome!

Writing has always been my thing. I’m naturally good at it. But before you let resentment bubble up in your heart, know this: I also work at it.

You’re not an artist unless you consciously and constantly choose to improve your grasp on the craft. And that’s why I’m going to share five little revelations that, over the years, have made me a better writer. And the good news is that they work no matter what you write, from blog posts to fiction.

How to Improve Your Writing Skills

Think about a time when you got something new.

I bought a 2015 Toyota Camry Hybrid a while back. It’s not the sort of sedan people notice. In fact, it’s kinda boring. (Sorry, Lola. You’re a great car. You’ll always be a showgirl in my eyes. Or a drag queen. You decide. Live your best life!)

A funny thing happened when I got my Camry. I started seeing them everywhere. Now that I was aware of the Camry, I noticed just how many of her siblings were on the road.

It’s kind of like that with learning how to improve your writing skills. Once you’re aware of the glitches that pop up in your (and everyone else’s) writing, you see them everywhere. When you review your drafts, they jump out at you. And then you have a lightbulb moment: This! This thing I learned now makes my writing better!.

So, here are five essential writing tips to help you level up your game.

1. Learn to fix wordy prepositional phrases

This one was huge for me when I first learned it. Let’s start by reviewing:

  • Prepositions are positional words—like over, under, around, through, across, among, with, at, of, and to—that describe the relationship of a word (usually a noun or pronoun) to another word, element, or clause.
  • Prepositional phrases contain the preposition and the object it relates to.

Take a look at this sentence:

Carla went to the store.

Can you spot the preposition?

It’s to. And to tells us where Carla went—to the store. So, to the store is the prepositional phrase. It contains the preposition (to) and the object it relates to (store.)

That’s a fine, straightforward sentence, right? It shows us just how important prepositional phrases are. Your writing is filled with them because they’re foundational in all writing.

But sometimes prepositional phrases are wordy. In excess, can make your writing cluttered, dull, and unclear. Take a look at these examples. I’ve highlighted the prepositional phrases.

Monique knew she was in a position to help.

Please refrain from speaking until such time as you are able to communicate calmly.

Those sentences sound formal, don’t they? If that’s what you’re going for, fine. But if you want your writing to sound more conversational, identify those prepositional phrases and see if you can adjust them.

Monique knew she could help.

Don’t speak until you can communicate calmly.

Prepositional phrases can also be a sign that you’re using passive voice. In most cases, look for the preposition by to identify passive voice.

Passive:
The ball was thrown by the pitcher.

Active:
The pitcher threw the ball.

Too many prepositions can also make your writing sound flat and uninteresting.

The caravan came over the top of the hill.

In this sentence, came is the verb. It’s not the most exciting verb, though, is it? Hmm. What’s a punchier verb to describe a caravan coming over — Wait, I’ve got it!

The caravan crested the hill.

Learn more about prepositions at Grammarly.

2. Easy on those “to be” verbs, buckaroo!

You use “to be” verbs like is, was, and are all the time—they’re basic and important. You can’t write without them. (Well, you could, but the result wouldn’t be pretty.)

As elemental as “to be” verbs are, it’s also easy to lean on them too much. And let’s face it, they aren’t very sparkly.

Maya’s neighbor was loudly yelling, calling her kids home for dinner.

Maya’s neighbor bellowed, calling her kids home for dinner.

Which verb has more impact, was or bellowed?

There were not as many cicadas in the trees as there had been yesterday so the woods were much quieter.

Fewer cicadas dotted the trees today, so a hush settled over the woods.

Start looking for opportunities to replace “to be” verbs like is, was, were, and are with something juicier. You can’t change all of them, but if you learn to choose verbs that are more specific and vibrant whenever the opportunity arises, your writing will shine.

3. About those -ing verbs …

Speaking of “to be” verbs, writers often pair them with ing words. And sometimes that’s a stylistic choice or even a necessary one. But sometimes it’s wimpy and wordy.

Bianca was walking on the beach.

Bianca walked on the beach.

Can you feel how was walking removes you, the reader, from the action just a little? If the police questioned you and asked where you last saw Bianca, you might say “She was walking on the beach.” But if you want to tell an intriguing story about Bianca, “Bianca walked on the beach” is a better choice because it doesn’t distance us from the action.

Her blue hair and easy swagger were fascinating to Marcus.

Her blue hair and easy swagger fascinated Marcus.

See what happens when you swap were fascinating for a single word: fascinated? The sentence feels slightly more active and less formal.

Of course, you won’t remove all of the “to be + -ing” instances from your writing. Just look for opportunities. When you see those -ing words pop up, take a moment to consider whether a simple edit would give your sentence more kick.

4. Adverbs are spice — don’t overdo it

Maybe you’ve seen those TikToks that feature some sedate craft like knitting. The screen flashes images of perfectly functional and attractive knitwear like hats, scarves, and sweaters. Then, the TikTok creator appears, wags a finger, and pretends to sprinkle something while the audio track says, “Add a little bit of … spice!”

And that’s when all hell breaks loose. Your concept of knitwear is gonna be shaken. What you see on the screen will make you say,

“Whoa, they knit that stuff? No way!”

Everybody likes a little spice now and then. You may need a fancy, flowing knit shawl that looks like gossamer butterfly wings from time to time.

But sometimes you just need a scarf.

When I edit, I often see writers use superfluous adverbs as intensifiers:

Hendrix is basically a guitar legend.

You can remove the intensifier to make a sentence more direct and less wordy. If Hendrix is a guitar legend in your eyes, you don’t need to use basically as a qualifier:

Hendrix is a guitar legend.

Then we have the adverbs people use to beef up wimpy adjectives:

Bob cried loudly when he discovered his succulent had died.

The adverb loudly modifies the verb cried. So maybe we can find a more potent verb that doesn’t need a modifier.

Bob wailed when he discovered his succulent had died.

And I’ll say it one more time—adverbs aren’t the devil incarnate, despite Stephen King saying “The road to hell is paved with adverbs.” Go ahead and use them when only a good adverb will do. But think of them as the scotch bonnet peppers in your coconut curry. A little goes a long way. Add too many and your dish becomes unpalatable.

5. Stop repeating yourself! Stop repeating yourself!

Redundancies happen. And they can be hard to spot.

I have a theory that writers create redundancies in the draft stage because they’re trying to work out what they want to say and exactly how they want to say it. Instead of stopping to fine-tune a phrase, they tack on another phrase that explains the previous one. Suddenly, they’re saying the same thing in several different ways.

Those are the high-level redundancies, the ones that happen at the paragraph or even the multi-paragraph level.

And then there are the tautologies—a pairing of words that mean roughly the same thing:

  • baby puppy (As opposed to an adult puppy?)
  • close proximity (There’s no such thing as “far proximity.”)
  • your own words (Who else’s words would your words be?)
  • adequate enough (“Adequate” already means “enough.”)
  • giving away free (Can you give something away for a cost?)

Redundancies can be challenging to sleuth out, but once you get good at it, you’ll notice them everywhere. And when you zap them, your writing will be better for it.