I’m a Professional Editor and This Is My Biggest Writing Pet Peeve

I’ve been a professional editor for almost ten years now.

And let me tell you something — the longer I do this job, the more I realize that most writing mistakes aren’t about grammar or spelling. They’re about instinct.

Grammar tools can fix typos, AI can polish sentences, but no app on earth can stop a writer from making this mistake — the one that drives me absolutely insane.

And once you notice it, you’ll start seeing it everywhere.

The Sneaky Habit That Kills Good Writing

Here it is: overexplaining emotions and thoughts.

Writers love to make sure the reader “gets it.” So they write things like:

> “I was really angry because my friend lied to me.”

> “I laughed so hard because the joke was hilarious.”

It’s innocent. It’s logical. It’s also lazy.

The problem isn’t that it’s wrong. The problem is that it drains all emotion from the sentence. You’re telling me how to feel instead of letting me feel it myself.

That’s not writing — that’s instruction.

Stop Explaining, Start Showing

There’s an old rule every editor repeats like a broken record:

Show, don’t tell.

It’s not just a cute phrase. It’s the difference between writing that sticks and writing that slides right off the brain.

Let’s compare:

> “I was nervous during the interview.”

> Okay, cool. You were nervous. Everyone’s nervous in interviews.

Now try this:

> “My palms were sweating so much I almost dropped the pen.”

See that? You didn’t say “nervous,” but I felt it anyway. That’s showing.

The first version talks about the feeling. The second one puts me inside it.

And that’s what great writing does — it pulls you in without announcing what it’s doing.

Why Writers Overexplain (Even the Good Ones)

Let me guess — you overexplain because you’re scared your reader won’t “get it,” right?

Every writer does that at some point. It comes from a good place — you care about clarity. But the irony is that clarity doesn’t come from explaining everything. It comes from trusting your reader.

When you leave a little space for the reader to interpret, they don’t get confused — they get curious. They lean in.

Think of it like flirting.

If you tell someone everything about yourself on the first date, there’s no mystery, no spark. But if you drop hints and let them fill in the blanks, that’s where the connection happens.

Good writing works the same way. You don’t want to dump everything. You want to invite discovery.

Even Taylor Swift Does It — But You Probably Can’t

Now, don’t get me wrong — even pros break this rule sometimes. Taylor Swift does it in her lyrics, and somehow it works because, well, she’s Taylor Swift.

She writes:

> “Green was the color of the grass where I used to read at Centennial Park.”

It’s not grammatically perfect. It’s stylized. It feels intentional.

But most people can’t pull that off without it sounding awkward.

You can break rules — but only after you’ve mastered them.

If you’re still learning to write tight, clean prose, start by cutting the fluff. Cut every “I felt,” “I was,” and “because I was.”

Then look at what’s left.

If the emotion still lands, you’re doing it right.

Edit Like You Mean It

When I edit my own drafts, I go on what I call a “felt” hunt.

I search for every sentence that starts with:

“I felt like…”

“I was really…”

“It made me feel…”

Then I delete them. Brutally.

At first, my writing feels empty. But when I reread it later, it’s tighter, cleaner, and oddly more powerful.

Because here’s the secret: emotion doesn’t come from the words “I felt.” It comes from what you describe.

> Don’t say, “I felt betrayed.”

> Say, “He looked me in the eye and smiled while lying.”

That one sentence says more than a paragraph of explanation ever could.

The Pet Peeve That Changed My Writing Forever

Once you spot this habit, you’ll start seeing it in every piece of writing — blog posts, captions, novels, even your old texts.

It’s sneaky, and it’s everywhere.

But if you can train yourself to stop overexplaining — to trust your reader, to show instead of tell — your writing will instantly stand out.

Not because it’s louder, flashier, or fancier.

But because it feels real.

And that’s what people remember.