There are certain defects my writing tends to have. At first, either I don't notice them, or I think I've fixed them and I haven't, or I feel utterly hopeless and stupid and egotistical even for trying. (Feeling that way doesn't mean you are, but I'm sharing the feelings.)
Over time, most of them I can spot and fix.
Common defects:
- I'm so confident about my grammar that I've really stretched it
- The sentence is too long
- I've said this in a way that's so ordinary that I now believe it was too obvious even to say
- Hedging against being seen as too facile, that is, after my efforts to be ultra-clear, I make too little effort to de-academicize, or, worse, I puff up my language semi-intentionally
- There are too many syllables in this phrase
- In an effort to be fresh, I've used a metaphor or analogy or word that seems pretentious or precious - it stands out, but not pleasantly
- Too many fucking qualifiers
- Too many fucking adverbs
- Saying "like" as often as I and others do in speech doesn't make this writing conversational, it makes my tone curiously slobbish and complacent
- Sure I can justify a tangent, but it's going to sound like rationalizing and maybe it is
- I talk about myself too much, and admitting "I think" and "I suspect" so often actually makes the impression worse, not better, because it keeps pointing back to Numero Uno
- My paragraphs don't have topic sentences, and I break them up by feel too often, rather than sticking to a clear thought for each, or, can you imagine, actually writing from an outline
- I bury the lead - my introduction would make even a ghost impatient
- My thinking is abstract, and I'm not actually very good with examples
- For all that I talk about arguing with solid evidence, I don't provide many citations at all