Clichés are to good writing as McDonald’s is to fine dining. You don’t need to shun them altogether; occasionally they have their place. But overall, like fast food, the job they do isn’t worth the toll they take.
But what’s really so wrong with avoid like the plague? You know exactly what it means when I say it, and besides, I might be on a deadline. Why should I fritter away precious time trying to come up with something fresh and inventive when there’s this prefabricated, comfortably familiar turn of phrase available?
That’s the lure and the curse of clichés. They’re easy and they work, yes, but by definition, they’re tired and overused, even the new, trendy ones. They’re the earmark of the hack writer.
The irony is that clichés are victims of their own success. As trite and shopworn as they become, they were effective and brilliant when they were first coined. They flourish by expressing something universal in words and images that are memorable and original. There’s no such thing as an ineffective cliché, or it’s not really a cliché.
Clichés sometimes start as clever punchlines. About fifteen years ago, for a period of several months, it was funny to hear someone reply to an outburst of brutal frankness by dryly remarking, “So, what do you really think?” But now when I hear this, even though it’s still about as up-to-date as a cliché can be, I get a wee pain.
Same with “wait for it.” It’s become quite a favorite with the higher-brows among us. It signals the reader that something deliciously ironic or amusing or ridiculous is about to be revealed: “So they caught that sanctimonious Pastor Reynolds in a strip club last night, and he said he was just there to—wait for it—do some research.”
In closing, I’d like to try something either really instructive or really dumb…
Cliché Masterpiece Theater
My friend said in no uncertain terms: “Let’s cut to the chase. It goes without saying clichés are something you should kick to the curb, where the rubber meets the road. They stick out like a sore thumb. They spread like wildfire. If you want to be a good writer, don’t go there or you’ll be thrown under the bus. You’ll have your name dragged through the mud. It’s as plain as the nose on your face. That being said, at the end of the day, for all intents and purposes, the bottom line is that when you use them, all bets are off. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out; this isn’t brain surgery. It is what it is.”
“Tell me what you really think,” I quipped. I was just jerking his chain since I didn’t have a dog in this fight. But by the same token, you can’t have it both ways. I knew I had to step up to the plate. “Dude,” I intoned, “the long and the short of it is, anyone who thinks I’m not on the same page is barking up the wrong tree. It boggles the mind and it’s freaking me out. I won’t take it lying down.”
You have to get up pretty early in the morning to catch me using a cliché. So let’s get the ball rolling. Let’s get up to speed here. Let’s take the gloves off. Let’s pull out all the stops. Let’s push the envelope. Let’s circle the wagons and stop kicking the can down the road. We need to wrap our minds around this perfect storm and think outside the box. But, you kids: don’t try this at home.
In the court of public opinion, clichés are a double-edged sword. On the one hand, they make your meaning clear as a bell; but on the other hand, long story short, in a heartbeat you’re confronted by a bunch of strange bedfellows who are shocked, shocked! That doesn’t pass the smell test.
Left to their own devices, these Einsteins seem to be having a field day with all their bells and whistles. They should give it a rest. They need to get over themselves, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
After all is said and done, this could have been a teachable moment—but, nooo! They had to turn it into a witch hunt.
Well, to them I say, “Right back at ya!” I’m not trying to sell snake oil to these snakes in the grass—these weasels who want to let the cat out of the bag, free as a bird. So in no way, shape, or form am I throwing in the towel. I’m drawing a line in the sand. I’ll fight this tooth and nail. When push comes to shove, I’m not falling on my sword. I’m not going from the frying pan into the fire. I’m not taking the bait like some deer in the headlights. No way, José. That would be deja vu all over again.
I’ve been around the block, but even if you held my feet to the fire, I couldn’t make people put their money where their mouth is—that’s above my pay grade.
Creature of habit? No, I’m crazy like a fox. If they keep fanning the flames, they’ll be dropping like flies. I refuse to be the poster child for being behind the eight ball when the chips are down.
Well, I think I’ve run out the clock. It’s time for the fat lady to sing. There’s nothing more to say—zero, zip, nada. I have to get out of Dodge.
This grammar tip was contributed by veteran copy editor and word nerd Tom Stern.
Posted on Tuesday, October 8, 2013, at 1:39 pm9 Comments on Clichés Are Too Easy