THERE IS A PROBLEM WITH THERE

 

Don't use the word "there." An easy rule to follow? Don't be too sure. If you are like most people, you probably haven't the faintest notion of how often you use this harmless-looking little five-letter word. Stopping its use may be almost as hard as stopping a nervous habit like doodling or erase nibbling. You don't even know you are doing it until somebody points it out to you.

 

The trouble with "there" has nothing to do with grammar or with "correctness" of any kind. It is a perfectly proper word, and it moves in the best of circles; you will find it in abundance in the work of the most distinguished writers. But the fact remains that it is one of the most insidious enemies a beginning writer faces in his/her search for style.

 

It is the enemy of style because it seldom adds anything but clutter to a sentence. And nothing saps the vitality of language as quickly as meaningless clutter. Look at this sentence:

 

There was something wrong.

Now look at the same sentence without the "there."

Something was wrong.

 

The greatest urgency of the second sentence should be obvious; of the two, it is the one more likely to convince you that something is really wrong. As a reader you are alerted by that direct, straight-to-the-heart-of-the-matter statement. Clutter it up with "there was" and all the strength oozes out of the sentence.

 

Sometimes you need only to cross out the word "there" and juggle the words slightly to create a better, more direct sentence. But this approach will not always work. What would you do, for example, with a sentence like this:

 

There was a fight.

 

If you cross out the word "there," you will not have the right words to make a sentence. Even after juggling, the best you can come up with is this:

 

A fight was.

 

And that doesn't make sense. Obviously, the trouble is not merely with "there" but with the two words, "there was." Remove both of them, and you are left with the one important element in the sentence--a fight. Ask yourself what verb would work with it, and you solve the problem.

 

A fight broke out

A fight developed.

A fight erupted.

A fight ensued.

A fight began.

A fight started.

 

Frequently, a sentence containing this construction will end in a prepositional phrase:

 

Somewhere there was the creaking

sound of the door.

 

Again, by taking out the "there was" you are left with something that is not a sentence. But you can make it into a sentence with remarkable ease by moving the object of the preposition so that it becomes the subject.

 

Somewhere a door . . .

 

Add a verb and you will have a sentence that says in four words what it took nine words to say when you used "there was":

 

Somewhere a door creaked.

 

 

 

You could have written, of course, "Somewhere a door made a creaking sound." But that is a waste of words; you are using four words (made a creaking sound) to say what could be said more crisply with one (creaked). One characteristic of a good style is the ability to pack as much meaning as possible, without loss of clarity, into as few words as possible.

 

Then there was a speech by Henry.

Then Henry spoke.

 

Suddenly, there was the sound of a motor.

Suddenly, a motor roared into life.

 

At midnight there was a break in the dam.

At midnight the dam burst.

 

Never underestimate the power of an active verb. And never underestimate the weakness of a pure verb (is, was, are, were, have been, had been, etc.), particularly when it is attached to the word "there." Pure verbs are simply verbs of being; they indicate existence and nothing else--no motion, no color, no sound. They turn sentences into mere snapshots of arrested movement, mere echoes of sound: "There was thunder and lightning." Active verbs, however, are verbs of doing; they turn sentences into motion pictures with sound and color: "Thunder crashed" (or roared or grumbled or muttered); "Lightning flashed across the sky" (or streaked or sliced or split or stitched or zigzagged).

 

Our language is rich with active verbs; they are available by the thousand, ready to carry any shade of meaning. Yet the sad truth is that we make far too little use of them. With all these riches in the bank, we continue to write like paupers. And the "there-plus-verb" habit is largely responsible. Only after you have conquered the habit will you begin to draw on the wealth of active verbs that can give your writing life and strength.

 

 

 

Sometimes, of course, a "there" is really needed, as in the sentence, "I was there" (meaning literally, "I was in that place"). The word "there," used in this strict sense, is probably the clearest and simplest way to express your meaning.

 

Nevertheless, for the time being try to avoid using the word "there."