Repetitions, Adverbs, Weak Verbs: The Style Tics to Fix in Your Novel
Last updated: September 2026
Three habits show up in almost every first draft, no matter the genre or the writer's experience: repetitions, adverbs doing the verb's job for it, and weak verbs that keep coming back because they're always available. None of the three is fatal. All three are fixable once you know how to spot them.
Why these three tics show up in almost every draft
A first draft gets written fast, and speed has a cost: the brain reaches for whatever word is already loaded rather than searching for the best one. Repetitions, -ly adverbs, and verbs like "to be" or "to do" are the three most common symptoms of that speed, and all three get fixed on the reread, not by writing more slowly.
Repetitions: the most visible mistake
A word shows up twice in the same sentence, or three times in the same paragraph, and the reader notices before they even work out why the sentence feels off. The most common repetitions fall into three buckets: common nouns (the word "gaze" four times on one page), character names, and grammatical subjects ("she" opening every sentence in a paragraph).
Three techniques cover most cases. The pronoun, first: swap a name already mentioned for he, she, or an implied subject. The ellipsis, second: cut what can be cut without losing meaning, the way "she looked" doesn't need a third repetition in the example above. And restructuring the sentence, as a last resort, when neither of the first two breaks the repetition without the prose sounding forced.
One nuance worth keeping in mind: chasing a synonym at any cost isn't always the right call. A character named Mark stays Mark. Readers would rather see his name come back than suddenly find him called "the thirty-something" or "the gray-eyed man" purely to dodge a repetition — a reflex that shows the editing effort more than it hides it.
-ly adverbs: cut them or keep them?
The advice you hear most, "cut every adverb," is a simplification aimed at beginners. The real problem isn't the adverb itself, it's the adverb that duplicates a verb that's already precise, or one that patches a hole where a stronger verb belongs.
Whispering is already soft by definition; the adverb only restates something the verb already carries. The second case is subtler: an adverb compensating for a weak verb instead of a stronger one being chosen in the first place.
A rare, well-chosen adverb still earns its place. The warning sign is density: three -ly adverbs on the same page are worth rereading one by one to see which ones carry real information and which are just filling space.
Weak verbs: to be, to have, to do, can
To be, to have, to do, can, must, to go, to say, to seem: these are among the most useful verbs in the language, and that's exactly why they show up everywhere, including places where a more precise verb would tell the scene better.
The first version states the silence as a fact; the second lets it act on the scene. The difference comes down to a single verb, but it changes the sentence's rhythm and, across a whole chapter, how much the prose feels like it's moving.
That doesn't mean banning "to be" and "to have": they're essential verbs, and hunting them down everywhere would produce cramped prose, just as tiring to read as a text riddled with repetitions. The goal is spotting them when they pile up on one page, not eliminating them one by one.
How to catch these tics without hunting for them by hand
A slow, sentence-by-sentence reread is still the most reliable method, but it takes real time across a full manuscript, and the eye tires after a few chapters. Catching these tics while you write, instead of waiting for a separate editing pass, is what avoids that fatigue in the first place.
In Inkbound, the style assistant highlights repetitions, -ly adverbs, and weak verbs in real time, directly in the editor, while you draft. It isn't a grammar checker (that's a different tool, like Antidote or Grammarly): it catches style tics, not spelling or grammar mistakes.
Frequently asked questions
Should you remove every -ly adverb from a novel?
No. "Cut every adverb" is a simplification aimed at beginners. The real problem is an adverb that duplicates a verb that's already precise ("whispered softly") or one that patches a hole where a stronger verb belongs. A rare, well-placed adverb still earns its keep.
What are the most common weak verbs?
To be, to have, to do, can, must, to go, to say, and to seem show up most often. They aren't bad verbs on their own, but a text leaning on them in every sentence loses precision and rhythm.
How do you avoid repeating a character's name?
Alternate between the name, a pronoun (he, she), and, sparingly, a description ("the old man", "the young recruit"). Avoid forced synonyms just to vary things, though: readers would rather see "Mark" come back than have him suddenly called "the brown-haired thirty-something" for no reason.
Are repetitions always a mistake?
No. A deliberate repetition can create rhythm or emphasis (anaphora). The issue is the unintentional kind, the ones you only notice on a reread, which come from running short on available vocabulary in the moment, not a stylistic choice.
How do you catch these tics without rereading every sentence?
A manual reread is still reliable but slow across a full manuscript. Some text editors, Inkbound included, highlight repetitions, -ly adverbs, and weak verbs in real time as you write, so none of it gets pushed to a separate editing pass.