Write, Don't Recite.

“Worn out phrases and longing gazes won’t get you where you want to go,”

John Phillips,”Words of Love” Mamas and The Papas

John Phillips was no doubt proselytizing when he wrote “Words of Love.” His wife, Michelle, was having an affair with Gene Clark of The Byrds, one of her many rock-sullied dalliances during their marriage that led to her eventual firing.

Phillips obviously saw a problem with worn out phrases. Nothing destroys a relationship like hearing the same words over and over again. Eventually they lose their sincerity (as Phillips realized when Michelle moved from Gene Clark to Denny Doherty, also of The Mamas and The Papas).

Lindsey Buckingham of Fleetwood Mac had a similar issue with bandmate (and romantic partner) Stevie Nicks. In his song “Go Your Own Way,” he accuses Stevie of “packin’ up, shakin’ up’s all you wanna do.” Interestingly, Nicks was having an affair with Gene Clark, too, before moving on to Mick Fleetwood, also of Fleetwood Mac.

Whether “worn out phrases” were the only cause of these carousel relationships is anybody’s guess, but it’s telling nonetheless. Nicks countered Buckingham’s “Go Your Own Way,” with her own song “Dreams.” The chorus is probably one of the best putdowns in music history: “Thunder only happens when it’s raining, players only love you when they’re playing.”

“Dreams” became Fleetwood Mac’s first and only number one song hit and noted in Rolling Stone for its “ethereal sincerity.” Nicks would have to agree with Phillips. Worn out phrases don’t get you where you want to go.

This is a good lesson for all of us, especially the way journalese seems to be everywhere in social media these days. I say journalese because it sounds like journalism and passes so easily for intelligent thinking.

Take Time Magazine with their lead article called “Trump Arrives In Israel.” The first sentence is enough to drive anyone to infidelity: “President Donald Trump has arrived in Israel, a visit aimed at testing the waters for jumpstarting the region’s dormant peace process.” I mean, who bothers “testing the waters” or “jumpstarting” unless you’re in a car or bathing?

Reaching for that obvious word or phrase isn’t just laziness, it’s a state of insincerity. I don’t think social media has made us insincere. I think we’ve made social media insincere. We’ve gotten to that repetitious stage of our relationships where the reader just ain’t feeling it anymore.

When Ryan indoctrinated me with those three mellifluous words, “Yeah, suck it!” my brain refused to process the command. “Isn’t that what I’m doing?” I thought.”

The above writer was probably being facetious using “indoctrinated” and “mellifluous.” Yet we’re still left wondering if her partner’s mellifluous encouragement is what sucks or the relationship itself. I mean, once you’re “processing commands” during sex, you need more than a lubricant.

We complain about readers being flighty. One minute they’re reading us, the next they’re reading someone else. There’s no loyalty, no sense of commitment. Could it be that we’re driving our readers into another’s post?

Personally, I’m more impressed with the raw honesty (even shallowness) of the woman on OkCupid who wrote:

“Just came out of a relationship. Kind of heartbroken. Not ready to date again yet, don’t know why I logged in here. I don’t want to start any new conversations with anyone. Maybe I just wanted to look at pics of cute guys. Yeah, I think that is all I want to do here right now. Don’t expect me to talk to you.”

The last line would give O’Henry a run for his money. “Don’t expect me to talk to you” is more than just a surprise. It feels abrupt, yet perfectly placed, like an afterthought you weren’t sure you’d use—but did, anyway. The same could be said of Mick Fleetwood’s odd drumming in “Go Your Own Way.” When Jeff Pocaro, drummer for Toto, asked how he arrived at such an unusual beat, Fleetwood said, “I don’t know, I’m dyslexic.”

All forms of art are filled with what seem like mistakes. They’re not. Each word, note or brush stroke is an artist giving them their freedom.

When Voltaire said “Originality is nothing but judicious imitation,” the operative word is judicious. When we grab the closest phrase, we’re not judicious anymore. We’re just lazy. We mistake flow for recitation.

Somewhere in the back of a reader’s mind they sense it. They feel the tired, cool escape method used by so many writers. As a creative director I worked with used to say, “So it’s been used before, it’s still a good line.” Well, that may be, but it’s still someone else’s good line — not yours. Probably not theirs, either.

Good writers continually want to change what we see and feel. Even a short travelogue, in the hands of someone like V.S. Pritchett, carries so many thoughts and imagery. Here’s an example of his handiwork in a piece written about Istanbul:

“Istanbul has meant so much to the imagination that the reality shocks most travelers. We cannot get the sultans out of our minds. We half expect to find them still cross-legged and jeweled on their divans. We remember tales of the harem. The truth is that Istanbul has no glory except its situation.”

The simplicity of Pritchett’s work is deceiving. Every sentence is hard won. “We cannot get the sultans out of our minds,” stays after we move on to the next thought. We hang around, loyal in the sense that we don’t feel used. That may be our greatest responsibility as writers. Nothing makes a reader feel used—or cheated—like old thoughts and template paragraphs strung together by words so common, they belong on a cereal box.

If you want a reader’s time and loyalty, reach a little further. Find your own words and phrases. If you’re wondering if you’ll even recognize something original, remember Stevie Nicks’ famous words at the end of “Dreams”:

“You’ll know, you will know.”

Robert Cormack is a freelance copywriter, novelist and blogger. His first novel “You Can Lead a Horse to Water (But You Can’t Make It Scuba Dive)” is available online and at most major bookstores. Check out Yucca Publishing or Skyhorse Press for more details.