Filter Out Those Filter Words in Your Writing

I think it’s time to talk about filter words. I feel that filter words are sneaky. I look around and see them everywhere. I wonder if they’re unnecessary, because they seem to clutter up our writing. I remember how easily they can slip into our writing yet how hard they can be to delete. Yes, I believe it’s time to talk about tightening up our prose by ruthlessly cutting out filter words.

Or, to put it another way (deleting those filter words):

Let’s talk about filter words. Those sneaky imps are everywhere, cluttering up our writing. They slip in easily and are hard to delete, but ruthlessly cutting them can tighten up our prose.

See what I did there? “Filter words” are phrases that announce that the character is about to feel, think, remember, or sense something. Do we really need to have that announced, or can we clever readers tell it’s happening by what’s going on in the scene? At least 90% of the time, they are completely unnecessary.

These phrases that warn us a character is about to think or feel something are often called filter words because the author uses them to filter the action through a character’s senses, which puts an extra step of distance between the reader and the action. I’ve also heard them referred to as “throat clearing” phrases, where the author takes a moment to hem and haw before getting around to the real action in the sentence.

Filter words can slow down a scene, drain the energy from a snappy moment, or blunt the sharp edge of that tension you’ve been working so hard to build. Anything that unnecessarily slows down a sentence is a point where a reader may lose interest, which is the cardinal sin for writers.

If a character is experiencing a memory, there’s seldom a reason to warn our readers that she is remembering it. We can usually tell. Here’s an example:

“Lila remembered how her mother’s kitchen had always smelled like Pine-Sol. Even now, she always thought if a kitchen didn’t smell like Pine-Sol, it just didn’t feel clean.”

The phrases “Lila remembered” and “she always thought” aren’t adding anything to this scene. We can tell immediately that Lila is remembering this experience and that’s she’s thinking about it now. After all, she’s the main character in the scene, and we’ve been with her all along. Without those filter words, the sentences can be stronger and more impactful:

“Her mother’s kitchen had always smelled like Pine-Sol. Even now, if a kitchen didn’t smell like Pine-Sol, it just didn’t feel clean.”

Have we lost any meaning by deleting the filter words? No. Is the language tighter and stronger without the extra weight? Yes.

Let’s look at another example of how filtering phrases can deflate an action scene:

“Bart thought he could smell smoke drifting through the air-vent.”

If we get rid of the first filtering phrase (“Bart thought”), we get:

“Bart smelled smoke drifting through the air-vent.”

While this is a little better, we are still filtering the action through the character’s observations, rather than letting the action just happen. In this case, it might be stronger to let the smoke take center stage instead of Bart’s nose:

“Smoke drifted through the air-vent.”

Now we’ve got something short and sweet that packs a punch. Announcing that Bart was about to smell something slowed down our sentence. By deleting the filter words, we let the smoke hit us all (Bart and his readers) at the same time.

A common filter word is “look” or some variation thereof, such as “He looked,” “She saw,” or “They noticed.” Here are some examples:

Filtered: “David looked around and noticed the coffeepot was leaking.”

Tighter: “The coffeepot was leaking.”

Filtered: “They watched as the sunset painted the sky in rose and peach.”

Tighter: “The sunset painted the sky in rose and peach.”

Filtered: “I glanced at the knife shaking in his hand.”

Tighter: “The knife in his hand was shaking.”

Filtered: “When she saw Bob’s face, Tanya realized she was about to get fired.”

Tighter: “Judging by Bob’s face, Tanya was about to get fired.”

Look through a few pages of your story. Can you find any filter words that can be cut to form more powerful sentences that send us directly to the action, tension, or heart of the scene? The biggest culprits will likely be words that announce someone is thinking, seeing, noticing, or remembering something.

In the meantime, I think I’ll look around for some lunch. I feel like I might be getting hungry. It seems like nachos sound good. Or, to put it a different, unfiltered way: I’m hungry, and these nachos aren’t going to eat themselves.

[Photo by Cristina Gottardi on Unsplash]

Kelley J. P. Lindberg