Some really, totally, completely, basically, kind of helpful advice.

Really.

HACK RECAP: Last week’s Hack, The Trouble With Doubles, focused on curbing repetition in your writing by eliminating three kinds of doubles: doubled words, sentences that echo other sentences, and overlapping paragraphs.      

THIS WEEK’S HACK: This week, focus on cutting words that don’t add anything to your sentences. 

One of the quickest and most effective ways to improve your writing is to cut what you don’t need. This week, I want to share my list of the top ten words that rarely add value to your sentences: actually, basically, completely, essentially, generally, kind of (I know, this one is two words), practically, really, totally, and virtually.

Now before you protest, I’m not saying you have to cut all of these words every time you catch yourself using them. Sometimes a well-placed really is exactly what you need to soften your message. (Who among us hasn’t watched a rom-com character deliver a heartfelt  “I really like you” in response to an unanticipated “I love you?”) And if you’re practically finished using my phone, I’m going to be happy to hear the news that you’ll be returning it soon. 

But too often, these words take up space without pulling their weight. If you’ve read any “how-to” books about writing, you probably found a list of these words under the heading “unnecessary words.” I prefer to think of them as “words that often don’t add anything to your sentence and sometimes undermine your message—except when they work fine.” But that’s a mouthful. So let’s call these words “shoulder-pad words.” In most cases, shoulder pads don’t add value to an outfit, and in many cases, they make the outfit worse. But every now and then, they just work. If that virtually is Lady Gaga’s shoulder pads at the Super Bowl, then keep it. Otherwise, you may want to reconsider it.

Consider the basically meaningless role of basically in most sentences.

I see sentences like this one every day:

When we need to hire, we basically reach out to everyone we know in the industry and ask for recommendations.

When I read a sentence like this, I tune out that basically and focus on the main point in the sentence: When we need to hire, we reach out to everyone we know in the industry. Got it.

But if I’m just skipping over a word to get to the main point, I think it’s fair to say the word isn’t doing anything for the sentence. Is there an argument for keeping that basically? Maybe you stuck in that basically because you want to convey something like “we have a couple of hiring strategies, but this is the most important one.” If that’s the goal, though, the basically isn’t really doing the work. Do you want me to know you have other strategies? If so, tell me. Maybe you reach out to others in the industry by telegram on the third Saturday of each month, but only when the moon is full? If so, don’t keep that delightful information from me! Do you want to make it seem like you have other strategies, but not tell me what they are? Then tell me that you have multiple strategies. The basically isn’t doing the job; it’s just taking up space. It’s shoulder pads on a sweatshirt.

Consider the totally avoidable tonal problem presented by totally.

Imagine if you lodged a complaint about my writing advice. If I wanted to assure you that I am committed to your writing needs, I might send you this reply: “Here at Writing Hacks, we are totally committed to our customers.”

What’s your reaction to that totally? Presumably, I threw that in because I want you to know that I am really, really, completely, 100% committed to you. But does that make you more likely to think I’m committed to your writing needs? Could I just say, “Here at Writing Hacks, we are committed to our customers”?

In this case, I would argue that the totally is working against my message. I want you to know I am sincere—and that I care about your writing. With the totally, I sound like I’m trying too hard. Shoulder pads on a sweatshirt.

If you’re shaking your head here and thinking that you like the totally, fair enough. I have no doubt that you can make a compelling case for a tonally appropriate totally, a useful generally, or an effective essentially. But before you totally commit (see what I did there?) to your totally, ask yourself these questions:

• What are you trying to achieve with this word?

• If you cut it, does your sentence lose anything?

• If you keep it, will you water down your message?

If you have thoughts about “shoulder-pad words”—or your own inspired name for them—please share in the comments!