In the world of writing, style often gets the spotlight. In fiction or nonfiction, business or inspirational, reviewers often tout the same handful of virtues. Readers praise eloquence, discuss metaphors, and quote lyrical turns of phrase. Writers chase voice, rhythm, and flair, believing that a unique style is what will make their work stand out.

It isn’t.

I know, I know. If readers, reviewers, and writing experts all exclaim over style, surely style alone is enough to elevate a book to bestseller status? In a perfect world… and I think we all know how that phrase ends. If your reader doesn’t understand what you’re saying, it doesn’t matter how beautifully you’ve said it. Content is the cake. Style, and all the beautiful, lyrical words that go with it, is the icing. I’ve been known to lick the icing off my cupcakes, but I’d never bring a bowl of icing to a birthday party and expect my guests to praise me.

We’ve all picked up a book that was nothing more than a bowl of icing. Maybe it was a fantasy romance with beautiful, evocative imagery, like the Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. The beautiful prose and rich descriptions might’ve kept you patient, but at some point you realized you were 80% of the way through the book and a dozen plotlines had yet to deliver anything of substance.

Perhaps it was a self-help book that left you nothing but empty words of encouragement. Maybe it was a how-to book. After devouring it cover to cover, you realized you still had absolutely no idea what you were doing. All the important facts and techniques were lost in quippy one-liners and funny stories.

Reading shouldn’t feel like a game of Where’s Waldo. Writers can only expect their audience to be patient for so long. Build your prose around your content, and never add more words than you need to get your message across.

Clarity is the foundation of all effective communication. Without it, even the most stylistically rich writing collapses under its own weight. It’s the difference between a message that lands and one that gets lost its own cleverness. By prioritizing clarity, you can become a better, more successful writer.

Stylish writing is often praised because it feels impressive. But if it doesn’t convey a clear message, all that style becomes self-indulgent. In the writing world, this is often known as purple prose.

At its simplest, purple prose refers to writing that is excessively ornate, overly elaborate, or emotionally inflated. It is the kind of prose that draws attention not to the story or characters but to itself. The term originates from the Roman poet Horace’s phrase purpureus pannus- a purple patch- meant to describe writing that is excessively showy and incongruent with the rest of the work. In contemporary usage, it refers to passages that are more concerned with aesthetic flourish than narrative utility.

Purple prose is almost never born of laziness. It usually stems from an earnest desire to be good, to be literary, to make readers feel something profound. It’s particularly common among newer writers who are still discovering their voice and who, understandably, conflate complexity with quality. These writers aren’t trying to obscure meaning; they’re trying to elevate it.

The problem arises when the language becomes the star, pushing aside character, plot, and pacing. Many readers love beautiful prose, but we look for beauty that serves the story, not distracts from it. If a sentence makes a reader pause to admire its structure at the cost of immersion, then it’s worth asking: is this moment serving the book or my ego?

Purple prose thrives in genres that allow for emotional or descriptive extremity. It’s particularly common among romance, fantasy, and historical fiction books, although it also plagues certain types of nonfiction like self-help and writing advice. There’s a place for rich, evocative language in fiction and nonfiction alike, but even the most lushly rendered fantasy realm benefits from restraint, clarity, and rhythm. Overwriting muddies what could otherwise be magical.

Read this sentence:

The cascading tapestry of chromatic ineffability bathed the moment in spectral possibility.

It sounds poetic. It might even make you pause, but what does it actually mean?

Now look at this version:

Colors danced across the room, blurring the line between what was real and imagined.

It’s still evocative, but it’s also clear. You can see it, feel it, understand it. That’s the sweet spot: where style serves clarity, not smothers it.

The best writing uses style to enhance meaning, not replace it. For more information on purple prose, check out Purple Prose, Literary Herpes.

As a writer, you live inside your work. You know your subject, your characters, your themes. You understand what each paragraph means beyond what it says. Your reader doesn’t have that luxury. They only know what’s on the page.

If your writing is vague, ambiguous, or overloaded with flourishes that obscure your point, you’re not being mysterious. You’re being unclear. Unclear writing puts all the burden on the reader to decipher your meaning.

Readers don’t want to do that work. They’re not lazy; they’re busy. The world is saturated with options for entertainment. If they’re confused, they’ll move on. By prioritizing clarity, you can limit the number of readers who put your book down because they’re just too tired or confused to keep going.

Remember, your job isn’t to impress readers with your vocabulary.

Whether you’re writing a novel, a how-to guide, or a business email, clarity signals respect for your reader. It tells them: I’ve thought carefully about what I want to say, and I’ve taken the time to say it clearly for you.

Unclear writing does the opposite. It suggests the writer either doesn’t fully understand their own ideas, or they don’t care if the reader does.

That erodes trust.

Especially in nonfiction, like journalism, education, marketing, readers need to know they’re in good hands. If they have to read a sentence three times to understand it, they may begin to doubt the content itself.

Clear writing says: You can trust me. I know what I’m talking about. I’ve got you.

Let’s be clear about clarity.

Clarity is not about dumbing things down. It’s not about avoiding big ideas or complex topics. It’s about expressing those ideas in the most accessible, accurate, and effective way possible.

You can explain quantum physics with clarity. You can write about trauma, grief, politics, or philosophy with clarity. Clarity doesn’t trim nuance from the page; it makes the nuance comprehensible.

The mark of a skilled writer is their ability to make the reader feel smart because they understand something new. In nonfiction, the result is obvious. A reader read a book on black holes, and now they can impress their girlfriend, professor, or grumpy grandfather with their new knowledge.

In fiction books, the ability to make a reader feel smart is a massive draw. Think about George R. R. Martin’s famous series A Song of Ice and Fire. The complex politics at play aren’t just interesting. When readers understand the political maneuvering and the consequences that arise, they feel smart. It’s a little ego boost wrapped in an engaging story. If Martin chose to prioritize Cersei’s snide comments over clarity, the entire story would suffer.

A beautifully written paragraph that no one understands is just a mountain of artistically arranged icing. It may be impressive to look at, but readers will be disappointed when they cut into it and realize there’s no cake.

When clarity is your compass, everything about your writing improves:

• Structure becomes cleaner.
• Sentences become sharper.
• Arguments become stronger.
• Emotion becomes more accessible.

Clarity amplifies your voice and makes your style much more impressive. Why? Clarity frees your style from confusion. It makes your metaphors hit harder. It makes your imagery more vivid. It makes your voice stand out.

Think of great stylists like Toni Morrison, George Orwell, Zadie Smith, and James Baldwin. Their writing is rich with personality, rhythm, and elegance, but it’s never unclear. They say what they mean, and they do it with authority.

If you want to be a clearer writer, here are a few practical steps:

• Know what you want to say before you say it. Lack of clarity often starts with lack of clarity in your own thinking. Outline your ideas. Know your message.
• Use simple, specific language. Avoid vague words like “thing,” “aspect,” “various,” “utilize.” Say exactly what you mean.
• Cut unnecessary words. Wordiness muddies meaning. Read your sentences aloud. Trim the fat.
• Favor active voice. Active constructions are usually clearer and more direct.
• Use examples. When explaining complex ideas, use metaphors, analogies, or stories to ground the abstract in the concrete.
• Revise with the reader in mind. Don’t just ask if it sounds good. Ask: Will this make sense to someone who doesn’t already know what I know?

Clear writing is generous writing. It puts the reader first. In a world saturated with noise, distraction, and endless content, clarity is a form of kindness. It’s also a form of power. The clearest message is often the one that’s remembered, shared, and acted upon.

So yes, develop your style. Find your voice. Hone your craft. Go out and write with confidence. Just be careful not to drown in your own cleverness.

Clarity creates connection with readers. A pretty sentence can add to your books value, but style can’t stand alone. Bake your cake, then add the icing.