By Eliana Fulton
One of my favorite parts of understanding Old English through Shakespeare was learning how people used to insult each other. In high school, after reading Romeo and Juliet, my nerdy friends and I would say, “I bite my thumb at you sir!” Or simply place our thumb between our teeth jokingly.
Before Shakespeare and his not-so-subtle digs at the Rose Theater, there was another collision of great writers in Ancient Greece that also threw shade with their fancy words. Pytheas made one such remark that is still used as a common critique of authors today. The famous orator jested to Plutarch that Demothenes’ arguments “smelt of the lamp” or “smelt of lamp wicks.”
Dang! Sick burn, Pytheas.
Demothenes was known for not being able to make arguments without time to think about them. The joke is that he would stay up late with his lamp burning, so that he could write into the dark of night time. As he recited his writing, listeners could “smell” all of the time he spent compiling his arguments. In other words, Demothenes was a try-hard. Now, smelling of the lamp is synonymous with writing that was clearly overworked or required strenuous effort.
If you’re like me, you’re probably wondering, “When did putting in the work become a bad thing”? It’s not. There’s nothing wrong with using a lamp; the problem is all of us smelling it.
Imagine watching a ballet, and as the male dancer lifts the ballerina over his head, he lets out a loud grunt, and starts sweating profusely. He’s performing perfectly, but his grimace is making everyone in the audience squirm in their seats. That’s the best parallel I can make.
However, in writing, the effect of smelling the lamp is more of an eye roll. The readers can tell that the author cared more about sounding fancy than the quality of their writing. The product is forced and unnatural.
Tantamount Terminology
Most writers know the struggle of having too many tabs open on their browser as they’re writing, and one of these tabs is almost always devoted to a thesaurus website. Heck, I have a thesaurus tab open as I’m writing this blog post!
This is fine as long as you remember that readers aren’t whipping out their dictionaries at words they don’t know. They’ll either use context clues, skip over it, or, if it happens too much, give up on the book entirely.
An impressive vocabulary does not make you a better writer, it just means your ego is sticking out. Extensively uncommon vocabulary is unnecessary and out of place in most writing styles. This isn’t Scrabble, no one is keeping score.
The most notorious instance of needless synonyms is young writers grasping on to the “said is dead” mentality. English teachers need to stop teaching this little phrase. We all know that said is not dead, it’s invisible. If your reader is constantly paying attention to how your characters (or narrators) are talking and not on what they’re saying, you’re distracting them.
Let’s practice deflating this sentence that AI helped me write:
“Betwixt the benighted bastions of bygone bureaucracy, baleful bureaucrats bemoaned the banishment of banal banquets.”
Not only does it take me an extra three read throughs to understand what this sentence is telling me, it’s a heck of a tongue twister. The average reader would let this strange sentence go straight over their head. By replacing irregular words, this sentence becomes first read through proof.
“Inside the antiquated halls of a failing bureaucracy, downtrodden officials whined about the cancellation of their dull, routine parties.”
This second sentence makes much more sense, is easier to read, and has more emotion embedded within its vocabulary.
Poetic Flourish
At the same time, authors of prose sometimes yearn for a poetic ring in their writing. This purple prose often focuses on imagery and uses an excessive amount of adjectives, adverbs, and metaphors. It is characterized by long words and sentences that calcify the text.
When you prioritize extravagance or decadence, the readability of the section shifts to the back burner. In an attempt to be profound, the phrasing becomes unnatural and dense amongst qualifiers and descriptors.
Additionally, trying to emulate other authors or poets is disruptive to the flow of the narrative. Descriptive embellishments require a different voice than smooth storytelling.
Let’s regulate this sentence AI wrote for me:
“The moon, a celestial beacon of melancholic yearning, whispered its silver lament upon the trembling earth.”
This is pretty, but it’s over dramatic and sensual. Unless the moon is really important in the context of the story, that sentence focuses way too much on painting a nuanced picture of its actions.
“The moon cast a soft glow over the landscape.”
In this revised version, we are still illustrating the scenery without overemphasizing its qualities and importance.
Over Editing Dialogue
The dialogue in teen drama Dawson’s Creek smelled so much of the lamp, the show writers started making fun of it in the last seasons. I believe the line “Nobody actually talks like this— especially teenagers” was thrown into one episode. I mean, I couldn’t imagine a real teenage boy conversationally telling me that a movie is “an homage, with a heavy allegorical slant,” the way Dawson did, could you ?
A good actor can make us believe that they’re thinking of the dialogue themselves, but a good writer can create dialogue that doesn’t feel rehearsed. While you’re writing dialogue, keep in mind the age, education, and interests of your characters. I like to imagine their voices as people that I know. Maybe they use a certain phrase or slang in every other conversation, or they talk in short sentences. Dialogue is a whole separate process with its own great blog post.
Just keep in mind that your characters are having the conversation to learn something, not to tell the reader something. That’s your secret, underlying purpose.
Here is another example that AI wrote for us to practice with:
"Elizabeth, I must confess that I am deeply troubled by recent events," Charles said, staring into his tea.
Elizabeth set down her cup carefully. "Ah, yes, you are referring to the unfortunate incident involving Mr. Hargrove, are you not?"
That is a performative conversation that stinks of the lamp. There is heavy plot exposition, and an ultra formal tone that feels formulaic, impersonal, and stiff. There’s no rhythm moving the conversation. This writer is focusing on inserting information, not creating momentum to move the story forward.
"I can't stop thinking about last night," Charles muttered, swirling his tea absently.
Elizabeth sighed. "Hargrove really did it this time."
This version, although still not perfect, feels much more natural. The conversation flows from line to line in a smooth and logical pattern that reveals new information without shoving it down our throats.
Pseudo-Philosophical Digressions
Where did we come from? Where do we go? I don’t know, ask Cotton-Eyed Joe.
Philosophy isn’t particularly fun to read when it’s intentional, so although there is a time and place for existential observation, out of place it smells lamp-ish. Attempts at sounding philosophical usually result in pretentious or unoriginal takes on cliches. If the idea is a natural conclusion that you or your characters came to as the result of an event or circumstance then great. However, if you are forcing an insight, your readers can tell.
This isn’t really a situation that you can mend through line editing. The best case scenario is finding a way to show and not tell your reader the insight through a thematic lesson.
Just for fun, let’s look at the “Vague Existential Musing” AI wrote as an example of what not to do:
"What is time, if not the endless echo of a moment ungrasped? We chase shadows of possibility, blind to the now, shackled by the illusion of choice in a cosmos that neither hears nor cares."
This quote sounds like it should be impressive, but it’s not very helpful or concrete information. It reminds me of some unconfident spoken word poet, hoping that no one can see that beneath the infinity scarf and knit beanie, they don’t know much about poetry.
Academia and Jargon
My favorite thing about Neil DeGrasse Tyson is that he wants his science to be accessible to most people. If I want to learn more about astrophysics, I can pick up one of his books, and somewhat understand what he’s talking about.
Academic language is difficult to comprehend and even more difficult to write well. It relies on being inaccessible to the general reader instead of communicating discoveries and concepts. Organization and clarity are more important than professional language. Trying to make something hard to read is the definition of smelling of the lamp (I’m looking at you textbook authors).
At the same time using industry jargon or niche vocabulary words works to narrow down your audience. Advertisers and PR managers know that jargon is out and slang is in.
For our final AI sample, try to interpret this very simple jargon heavy phrase:
“Her subjectivity is constituted through interpellation within hegemonic discursive formations."
It may seem like you need to take some sociology, statistics, and psychology classes, but you do not. This person needs a writing tutor to help them simplify their explanations.
“Her identity is shaped by dominant social narratives.”
All Clean
Writing, like dancing, doesn’t come naturally to anyone. It requires practice, and, sometimes, it requires burning the midnight oil. Smelling like the lamp is a sick burn, and ridding yourself of that smell can feel difficult and uncomfortable. Hopefully trimming back on areas where we try to sound smarter than we need to be, we can make our writing smoother so it smells like success.
To make writing sound effortless, you have to make an effort and come to peace with not being perfect. At the moments that the words aren’t coming to you and you have to force yourself, take your hands off the keyboard and return to that part of the draft at a different time.
In the wise words of Victoria Justice, “Writing is like farting, when you push too hard it’s most likely sh*t.”