So... I found this and now it keeps coming to mind. You hear about "life-changing writing advice" all the time and usually its really not—but honestly this is it man.
I love the lawyer metaphor, because whenever I see “John knew that...” in prose writing I immediately think “how? How does he know it?” Interrogate your witnesses. Cross-examine them. Make them explain their reasoning. It pays dividends.
First, let me preface this with something very important: you can treat all of this advice as SECOND-DRAFT ADVICE. It is so much easier to rewrite this kind of stuff once you have words on the page. Telling yourself the first draft is totally appropriate and acceptable.
What we’re talking about here are FILTER WORDS (and to some degree verbs of being). Yes, “thought” words are included. But so are “heard, saw, looked, tasted, smelled” etc.—most words having to do with the senses.
This isn’t black and white advice; sometimes you’ll use these words and that’s okay. They’re not WRONG. They’re just weaker. And they’re weaker because they create distance between the reader and the experience of the character.*
If you want your reader to feel like they’re experiencing the story right alongside the character, you want to cut down on filter words.
*This is particularly important with first person and close third POVs. The reader always knows whose eyes they’re seeing through and thoughts they’re privy to. So you don’t need to tell them “I saw X.” Or “I heard X.” Or “I thought Y.” You can just jump into the action/observation as it’s happening.
This is also where you want to pay attention to verbs of being.
“It was rainy.” Versus: “The rain pounded against the roof.” Or “The rain howled like an injured animal.” Or “The rain tapped against the window like an anxious lover.” All of these are inviting the reader deeper into the experience of the story by using stronger verbs and similes. And, at the same time, they stir feelings (instead of TELLING feelings). And feelings keep your reader engaged. Engaged readers keep turning pages; engaged readers become FANS.
The most valuable advice that Author Ex gave me through the years that we wrote together was this: the problem with all these filter words is that they create distance in the POV.
That means that when you read a line like
John saw that the curtains were open.
It immediately takes you OUT of the character's perspective and instead tells you what they experience as a secondhand observation.
You don't have to get fancy or purple with how you rephrase things like this. Not everything needs a ton of breathing room.
You wanna know what's perfectly impactful while keeping a tight POV?
Character who’d never in their life cry in front of others, being brought to tears they physically can’t hold back. But not just the quiet crying, either, like actual sobs that make their chest heave, and whimpering
✧ Looking at her felt like leaning too close to a dying fire, the heat muted, the flames gone, but the coals glowing red, alive in silence.
✧ Her eyes looked carved from autumn itself, every shade of red-brown leaf pressed together until you couldn't tell where the warmth ended and the shadow began.
✧ His stare was the color of brick still warm from the sun, solid, grounded, yet glowing faintly with stored heat.
✧ Brown, yes, but the kind that catches light and breaks into red, like whiskey swirling in a glass, sharp, sweet, dangerous all at once.
✧ There was iron in her gaze, iron laced with flame, the red inside it glinting like sparks buried in metal.
✧ His eyes were the shade of chestnuts roasted too long: dark on the surface, but split them open and the heart is burning, reddish, soft, alive.
✧ When she looked at you, it was less like being seen and more like being seared, her eyes branding every secret into memory with their copper-red heat.
⊹ Looking at her felt like standing in a wide, empty field. Nothing to hide behind, nowhere to go, just her gaze, steady and unrelenting, and you, small inside it.
⊹ His eyes carried shadows in them, soft ones, like clouds crossing over grass. You couldn’t tell if the storm was coming or already passed.
⊹ She had the kind of eyes you don’t notice at first, until suddenly you do, and then it’s too late, because now you’re lost in them, searching for landmarks that aren’t there.
⊹ His irises were the color of moss in shadow, the kind that clings to stone and never lets go.
⊹ When he looked at me, it wasn’t with eyes at all. It was with meadows. With skies so wide they swallowed the horizon. With places I hadn’t walked yet but suddenly wanted to.
✧ Her eyes weren’t simply blue; they were the kind of blue that belongs to water you can’t see the bottom of. Shallow at first glance, endless once you step too close.
✧ His gaze carried the weight of winter skies, that pale, aching blue you only get before the snow begins to fall.
✧ Blue that didn’t soothe, it burned cold, sharp as ice cracking beneath your feet.
✧ Looking at her was like staring into waves you know will pull you under, and letting them.
✧ His eyes weren’t glassy jewels; they were sea-glass, worn down by storms, carrying salt and history.
✧ She blinked, and it was like sunlight on open water, sudden, blinding, and gone before you could breathe.
✧ Crying isn’t pretty. It’s snot, blotchy faces, gasping for air, and red-rimmed eyes. Forget the single tear rolling down like in Hollywood.
✧ Anger often hides hurt. People lash out, slam doors, shout, not always because they’re just mad, but because they’re covering up fear or pain.
✧ Shaking is common. Stress dumps adrenaline into the system. Hands tremble, voices break, knees won’t stay steady.
✧ People go quiet, too. Not all breakdowns are screaming and sobbing. Some are dead silence, staring off, numb responses. Equally devastating.
✧ Exhaustion hits after. The “post-breakdown crash” is real ... headaches, sore eyes, complete emotional hangover. They’ll want to sleep for hours.
✧ Words get messy. Rambling, repeating the same sentence, stuttering, saying things they don’t mean. Emotions trip over themselves on the way out.
✧ Breathing changes. Short, shallow breaths, hiccupping gasps, or holding their breath without realizing. Sometimes it even feels like they’re choking.
✧ Embarrassment creeps in. Once the wave passes, a lot of people feel ashamed, apologizing or avoiding eye contact. Vulnerability often leaves guilt in its wake.
✧ Physical pain shows up. Tight chest, stomach aches, tension headaches. Because emotions don’t just stay in the mind , the body carries them too.
☽ "i don’t know how to talk about this without making it a joke."
☽ "i’m not used to people… staying."
☽ "can we just pretend i didn’t say that?"
☽ "i thought if i ignored it long enough it would stop hurting."
☽ "sometimes i rehearse being honest in my head and then never do it."
☽ "i literally have no idea how to ask for help without apologizing."
☽ "i didn’t know it was okay to feel like this."
☽ "do you ever get tired of pretending you're okay?"
☽ "what if i'm just too much and not enough at the same time?"
☽ "i only know how to be fine or silent."
☽ "i’ve never told anyone that before. please don’t look at me like that."
☽ "i don’t want to be alone, but being around people feels like too much too."
☽ "i don’t even know what i’m feeling half the time."
☽ "i’m scared if i let it out, i won’t be able to put it back."
☽ "i didn’t mean to make you worry. i just didn’t think it mattered."
☽ "every time i try to be vulnerable, my body screams abort mission."
Authors Note- hello yall!! this was originally gonna be two chapters, but I unfortunately wasn’t able to finish it before the reading rumble :,) but im posting it anyways but idc lmao. This was loosely inspired by Disaster by Conan Gray. This is a human au, and all the characters are over 21 and allowed to drink alcohol!!
@camelspit
”Yeah, I’ll be there in like- ten minutes Sophie! I’m driving there right now.” Dex lied, hurriedly grabbing his jacket off the coatrack by his apartment door.
“I sure hope so.” She replied over the phone. “Everyone’s already here dude.”
Dex groaned, saying a quick goodbye and hanging up before shoving his phone in his pocket. He rushed down the stairs of the apartment complex, sliding into the front seat of his car and starting the ignition.
The drive to the Vackers house was short, and traffic at this hour wasn’t bad. Dex let out a shaky breath, checking his hair in the overhead mirror.
“Relax.” He mumbled, shaking his head. It was just a small party with some friends.
And Fitz, but who cared? Dex didn’t.
”Dexy, hey dude!” He was immediately greeted at the door by Keefe. “Here, lemme just get this for ya.” He took Dex’s jacket, throwing it aside near some shoes.
Dex took the hint, sliding off his shoes and kicking them in the corner.
He took a quick look around the room and… wow. Biana and Fitz were rich of course, and there house made it very obvious. He wasn’t worried about that though, that was old news.
“Why’s there so many people?” Dex asked as Keefe put his arm around his shoulder and guided him to the kitchen.
Keefe shrugged, letting go to grab a couple bottles of beer. “Biana decided to go crazy and invite a bunch of people.” He said, cracking one open.
Dex frowned, hesitantly taking the bottle that was handed to him so he’d have something to hold.
“Where’s… where’s Fitz?” He asked once Keefe had a sip of his own drink.
“Why do you want to know?” Keefe smiled knowingly.
“It’s nothing like that.” He replied, shooting him a small glare.
Keefe laughed lightly and shrugged. “I dunno man, it’s not like I’m his babysitter.”
“You’re his best friend.” Dex said, raising an eyebrow.
“I know. Funny, right?”
Dex sighed, quickly giving up on that conversation and walking away before he had to deal with Keefe rambling about Sophie like he did every time he had alcohol.
After shoving his way through partying college kids he got to the living room.
Thank God. Sophie was there, along with Biana and Fitz. Dex froze, his heartbeat speeding up.
Fitz’s wavy hair looked as soft as ever, and he had a simple teal button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Teal was his color and he clearly knew that.
“Dex!” Biana grinned once she noticed him, eagerly gesturing towards an empty spot on the couch next to Sophie.
He smiled gratefully, sitting down and ignoring Fitz’s eyes on him.
“Did you see Keefe?” Sophie asked, sipping a can of Sprite.
Dex sighed and nodded, wiping his hands on his jeans to get rid of the perspiration from the beer bottle. “He found me as soon as I walked in actually. He was in the kitchen when I ditched him.”
“Typical.” Fitz chuckled.
Dex nodded, taking a nervous drink of beer. Gross. “So why’d you invite so many people?” He asked Biana.
“Why not?” She laughed. “They’ll be talking about this party for a while. It’s a nice popularity boost.” She said, messing with a strand of her hair as she talked.
Please, like she needed popularity. Did that crap even matter in college? Dex hasn’t bothered talking to many people on campus beside the friends he already had.
“Besides, my lovely brother needs to find a special someone, and this is the perfect place.” She grinned, ruffling his hair.
“Oh really?” Fitz gave her a look. “I don’t see you with a partner.”
Biana glanced at Sophie and looked down, her cheeks flushed. “Whatever.”
She grumbled. She stole Fitz’s drink, taking a gulp before slamming it down on the coffee table and pushing herself to her feet.
Dex raised an eyebrow, finally noticing her silvery tank top and the red skirt she had on. “I’ll go find someone right now.” She declared, walking off into the bunch of people.
Fitz chuckled, grabbing the bottle and putting it on a coaster instead.
Sophie sighed, also getting to her feet. “I’m gonna go make sure Keefe’s not getting up to anything stupid.”
Dex gave her a pleading look to not leave her alone with Fitz that she pointedly avoided. Dex scowled, taking a big drink of beer. He was going to need a lot more than this to make it through the night.
“So how have your classes been?” Fitz asked, sitting back on the couch.
“Decent.” Dex shrugged. “I have a study partner- Tinker. She’s helpful.”
Fitz nodded softly, swirling his bottle absentmindedly.
“How’s it’s been going for you?” Dex asked.
“Same as usual.” Fitz sighed. Dex nodded sympathetically. He knew Fitz hadn’t exactly wanted to go to college, but Alden hadn’t given him much of a choice. It was silent for what felt like an eternity, as Dex tried and failed to sneak glances at Fitz.
“Ugh, I see my sister.” Fitz sighed, and Dex followed his gaze to see her talking to a random guy with a clearly forced smile.
“I’m gonna go save her ass.” He said, nodding to Dex before walking off.
Dex scowled, finishing off his beer. “‘Come to the party!’ they said.” He grumbled, getting up. “‘It’ll be fun!’” He rolled his eyes, going back to the kitchen.
Surprisingly enough, Keefe was still there with Sophie besides him. Keefe lit up once he saw Dex, waving him over.
“Hey Keefe.” Dex said hesitantly, trying to determine how drunk he was.
“You good?” Sophie asked with a frown.
“I’m fine.” Dex said with a sigh, leaning against the counter.
“You don’t look fine.” Keefe giggled, poking his cheek. “Who pissed you off?”
“Keefe.” Sophie said, giving him a warning look before turning back to Dex. “Was it Fitz?” She asked with a frown.
Dex rolled his eyes at her pity. “Maybe.” He admitted.
“You need some alcohol!” Keefe declared. “It helps with the sadness.” He slurred knowingly, handing Dex a bottle.
Dex rolled his eyes, although he did have a drink.
Sophie noticed that, raising an eyebrow. “Tell me if you need a ride home.” She said, nudging his shoulder.
“I will.” He promised, hesitating before grabbing another bottle and going back to sulk on the couch.
“Dex?” A gentle shake on his shoulder made Dex sit up and rub his eyes.
“Huh…?” He looked up slowly, smiling when he saw Fitz leaning over him with a concerned frown. “Hey there.” Dex smiled weakly.
“I didn’t think you out of all people would get drunk.” Fitz said.
“Keefe’s idea.” Dex slurred, laying back down.
“Ugh, of course it is. Cmon, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch dork.”
Dex chuckled, not bothering to move.
“I’m serious.” Fitz said, straightening and crossing his arms.
Dex giggled at his serious pose, closing his eyes again. “You’re not my mom.” He yawned.
He heard Fitz’s sigh and ignored it.
“You’re lucky I’m here…” Fitz said, before carefully picking Dex up in a bridal carry.
“Ughh don’t touch me.” Dex said, burying his face in Fitz’s neck and relaxing at the familiar scent of his cologne.
He felt Fitz’s grip on him tighten before he started walking. “Just stop talking.” Fitz grumbled.
“Okay.” Dex replied lazily, content to relax in his arms.
Fitz eventually stopped, setting him down on a mattress.
Dex frowned, looking around and recognizing Fitz’s room. “Why not the guest room?” He slurred.
“Thanks to Biana, there’s probably kids in there making out.” Fitz huffed, sitting down next to Dex’s head.
“No funny business then. My mom won’ lemme.” Dex managed, turning onto his side and closing his eyes.
“I wasn’t planning on it.” Fitz snickered.
“Mhm. Whatever.” Dex mumbled. He opened his eyes after a moment of silence, looking up at Fitz quietly.
“What’s wrong?” Fitz frowned.
“You’re pretty.”
Fitz blinked at him, his widened eyes being the only thing showing his shock.
“Well you don’t have to just sit there.” Dex mumbled, frowning at Fitz’s hand that was lingering near his head.
“I thought you just said no funny business…?” He reminded Dex with a gentle smile. After a moment though his dark fingers moved, gently smoothing Dex’s hair.
Dex hummed approvingly, closing his eyes again. “I love you so much…” he said contently. Fitz’s fingers stilled, and Dex let out a small noise of protest.
“No you don’t.” Fitz said softly.
“Liar.” Dex grumbled, pushing his head up into Fitz’s hand.
“I think I know what im talking about Dex.” Fitz said, making Dex let out a sigh.
“Whatever. Just keep… doing this…” He said, putting a hand over Fitz’s.
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