Consider your cadence
“Were you rushing or were you dragging?” —Terence Fletcher, Whiplash
Jazz band maestro Terrence Fletcher is one of the most terrifying on-screen villains.
Played by the ever-excellent J. K. Simmons, Fletcher bullies drummer Andrew Neyman (Miles Teller) throughout Whiplash. Arguably, the most memorable scene involves Fletcher throwing a chair at Neyman and then repeatedly asking him, “Were you rushing or were you dragging?”
In shock, Neyman replies, “I don’t know.”
Fletcher quickly steps toward Neyman and asks him to count in rhythm.
Then the teacher slaps his student in the face in tempo, asking, “Am I rushing or dragging?”
Defeated, Neyman answers, “Rushing.”
Fletcher screams in response, “So you do know the difference!”1
I believe you do too.
But I won’t slap you to prove my point.
How to quickly and easily bore your readers
Purdue’s Online Writing Lab (OWL) offers an example of structural monotony in “Strategies for Variation”:
Many really good blues guitarists have all had the last name King. They have been named Freddie King and Albert King and B. B. King. The name King must make a bluesman a really good bluesman. The bluesmen named King have all been very talented and good guitar players. The claim that a name can make a guitarist good may not be that far-fetched.
The first time I read that example, I thought, That sounds like a fourth-grader.
When that paragraph is read aloud, it’s easy to hear its monotony and repetition. The noun-verb construction occurs in every sentence, and the lengths of each sentence are similar.
Imagine reading even just a chapter like that? You’d throw the book across the room, think about leaving a one-star review on Amazon, and then think even that would be too good for the author.
Here’s the OWL’s suggested rewrite:
What makes a good bluesman? Maybe, just maybe, it's all in a stately name. B. B. King. Freddie King. Albert King. It's no coincidence that they're the royalty of their genre. When their fingers dance like court jesters, their guitars gleam like scepters, and their voices bellow like regal trumpets, they seem almost like nobility. Hearing their music is like walking into the throne room. They really are kings.
(For another example of varying sentence structure, see Gary Provost’s well-shared example at “Why is it important to vary sentence length in my writing?”)
I’d argue that the second bluesman example is overwritten, but when it comes to repetition, the problem has been eradicated. However, repetitive structure can strike even the most ornately written books, and sometimes in subtle ways.
Something is wrong here
I once edited a manuscript that suffered from an abundance of vague words like things, something, and sometime. The book was smart. The writing was mostly good. But the vague words, in addition to making me wonder what the point really was, left me tired because those words just kept reappearing. Eradicating them would solve a number of problems, including removing the repetition.
What’s funny is that I didn’t quite catch the issue on my first read. I knew something was off about the first few paragraphs, but it wasn’t until the second read-through that I placed my editorial finger on what was bothersome. The thing words were creating a host of problems, but because those kinds of utilitarian words are the kind we often gloss over, I missed them the first time—even in their abundance.
So, what’s the editing tip for creating a cadence that people want to read and won’t be put to sleep by?
How to fix your cadence
The best way to self-check your cadence is to have your computer read your work to you.
When an automated voice reads your text, you should be able to quickly tell if it will lull someone to sleep. In my opinion, the lack of inflection in automated voices is actually a benefit here; it forces you to hear only the cadence of your work.2
For more specific help, the OWL suggests alternating short and long sentences, as well as varying your sentence openings.
For instance, don’t always start with a noun.
For fiction authors, beware beginning too many sentences with he or she. While writing your first draft, such constructions can happen almost without notice.
These are good initial suggestions, but even when you employ them, you may find yourself going back to the same well each time in your effort to vary your structure. In other words, short-long-short-long is still repetitive.
Less experienced writers should look out for sentences beginning with “There is” or “There are.” For example, “There are three people in the room” is better off as “Three people are in the room.” If you’re ruthless about deleting “There is” and “There are” from launching your sentences, you should have clearer, stronger writing.
Most authors have author tics, i.e., certain phrases or words they use over and over. Likely, those are blind spots to the author. But when those verbal tics keep reappearing, it can lead toward creating a monotonous cadence.
Of course—and I’m perfectly biased in suggesting this—your best route to check your cadence is to hire professional help. An experienced, independent editor will bring fresh eyes to your book and an understanding of what makes for an engaging cadence.
And they very likely won’t throw a chair at you.
P.S. Join me, Dave Eggers, Evangeline Lilly, and dozens of other excellent teachers at the DFW Writers Conference if you can make it to Hurst Oct. 7-8. I’ll be teaching on nonfiction book proposals and atomic habits for nonfiction authors, and I’ll also be attending a number of classes because you can never learn too much about the craft and this business.
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About Better Writing with Blake Atwood
I’m Blake Atwood, a nonfiction editor, author, and ghostwriter. My literary claim to nominal fame is as an early developmental editor on Atomic Habits, but I’ve worked on more than 60 books, including a few of my own. If this was forwarded to you and you’d like to subscribe, please do so below.
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Fun fact: I’ve played drums since I was eleven. I still play today about once a month for my church. One day I may write about the similarities between drumming and editing (beyond cadence)—but today is not that day.
That said, AI voices are progressing rapidly and becoming much less robotic. For instance, I was somewhat impressed with the AI audio employed in the Project Gutenberg Open Audiobook Collection.