Why sometimes not finding the right word can make you a better writer

Capriciously recalcitrant hubris

For years (before I worked in publishing) I believed the right word was the big word. The one that would burst from the page with its own little firework display to show the world I paid attention, retained important vocabulary, and knew where to use it.

At about the same time, I started jotting down all the words I felt I should use more. Capricious. Words I perhaps didn’t fully understand but wanted to. Hubris. Words I could probably have put in a sentence but couldn’t explain to a child. Recalcitrant.

I haven’t looked back on many of these big words. Nor have I tried to crowbar them into any conversations or writing.

As it happens, I can communicate just fine without them!

In any case, some of them would stand out like a flamingo in a flock of penguins. All showy-offy, turning up at the wrong time, wrong place.

 

Use three words when one would do

But ignoring my list of big, right words doesn’t mean I’m going to limit my vocabulary or plonk any old word down when a little thought would conjure a beauty. There’s always room for refinement in writing. But it does mean I won’t be scattering flamboyant and pompous terms over a page just to try to sound intelligent.

These days I keep it simple.

People often think that using big words or complex phrasing gives a writer the air of authority and gravitas. It might well do, for some. But it’s more likely to bamboozle your reader, make them give up and click on the next offering. 

Take a gander at this:

Hilda is an ebullient sesquipedalian whose perfidiousness was the cynosure of excogitation at the recent conference for saxicolouses.

And now this:

Hilda is a fan of big words whose betrayal was the focus of long and in-depth consideration at the recent conference for those who live under rocks.

Now, as examples go, it’s clumsy and exaggerated. I just enjoyed ramming as many unfamiliar words as possible into one sentence! But I hope it makes a point. For just nine more little words, using a few simple terms and clear phrases, you can get your point across much more effectively. And without sounding like a pompous git.

Previous
Previous

Pulling my hair out: an alopecia story