5 interesting and random things my Honours year taught me about writing

If you thought you understood all the secrets to the art of writing in the English language, then you should do an English Literature Honours degree to see how little you actually know.

Writing a dissertation of 15,000+ words under academic supervison gave me the unique opportunity to confront my own misunderstandings of writing. After all, they're basically training you to write something publishable. Read on to see the life-changing writing quirks and wisdom I picked up from my Honours year.

1. Starting a sentence with however is often inelegant

When my supervisor gave me feedback for my first draft, she highlighted one of the sentences where I used however as a conjunctive adverb at the beginning. She wrote "Starting a sentence with however is usually inelegant". It was genuinely baffled me, because I'd seen it in many pieces of writing like fiction, academic articles, and news articles.

Determined to understand why the sentence-starting however lacks refinement in the social world of writing, I ventured down into a rabbit hole of style guides, history, and grammarian debates.

In The Complete Stylist, Baker writes that for however, you should "Bury it between commas, or replace it with but or nevertheless" and that the "Initial however should be an adverb" to express the degree of something [1].

On the same note, The Chicago Manual of Style states that starting with however "is more ponderous and has less impact than the simple but", and "is more effectively used within a sentence to emphasize the word or phrase that precedes it" [2]. If you're using it at the beginning, then you should only do so if you mean to say "in whatever way"—otherwise, avoid it for good "euphony and flow" [3]. It's a stylistic choice, rather than a strict grammar rule.

To understand this argument, take a look at these two sentences:

1. However, the script Reginald wrote was lacking in passion.

2. The script Reginald wrote, however, was lacking in passion.

The contrast in the first sentence feels rather jarring and unsubtle. It interrupts the momentum of your reading. It's like you're going out with your friend who's walking behind you, and they suddenly yank your arm and make you walk in the opposite direction.

But the second sentence? It feels more as if your friend took your hand and gently nudged you to the other direction. It's elegant because the contrast is expressed without abruptness.

Now, let's look at the case where using however at the beginning of a sentence isn't inelegant:

1. However hard he trained, he still felt unqualified.

2. However she wrote it, she meant well.

These sentences use however to mean "in whatever extent". When you look at the mechanics, it reads more elegantly; it's not bound by a preceding full stop and a succeeding comma that renders it an awkward, interrupting entity. Your eyes still flow swiftly onto the sentence.

Most academics in the humanities adhere to this stylistic convention. There are other disciplines and style guides, however, where the inelegant use doesn't bat an eye. I respect it, because people have different writing styles. Even many great fiction authors start sentences with however. But when it comes to formal writing, the inelegant however sticks out like a sore thumb whenever I come across it.

2. The phrase "the masses" is pejorative

Again comes my Honours supervisor with her life-changing pen marks on one of my earlier Honours draft, where she circled "the masses" in a sentence and noted that it's pejorative.

In that particular sentence, I was writing that "the masses" are passive subjects within the spectacle conceptualised by Guy Debord. The phrase made sense in the context of my research, and I didn't think there was more to its meaning.

But under my supervisor's suggestion, I ended up writing a sentence to elaborate that people in general have become passive masses under Debord's theoretical framework—signalling that it is not me, the author, who actually thinks of the general population as "the masses".

I never realised "the masses" and "masses" carried negative connotations. I'd gotten used to seeing it casually in feature articles and in reviews that, for instance, describe a certain piece of media as something the masses can find solace in.

And I get why some people would use it. It's a pretty-sounding word and a seemingly suitable synonym for "people"—especially when you've written the word "people" and "general population" too much in a single text, or find them both too mundane, so you want to spice things up a bit.

But many words and phrases carry a historical weight we don't even know about. Using my G̶o̶d̶-̶g̶i̶v̶e̶n̶ academia-given research skills, I jumped into another wonderful investigation to find out why the phrase is pejorative.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines "the masses" as "the ordinary people, esp. as viewed in an economic or political context", while the earliest meaning of "mass" is "A dense aggregation of objects having the appearance of a single, continuous body" [4].

The meaning of the singular word implies that, fundamentally, "the masses"—when referring to everyday people—are nothing but faceless, indistinguishable blobs.

Moreover, throughout history, the elite referred to the lower classes as "the masses". They're the general population, akin to mindless sheep for the elite to exert control over. "The masses" are also those with "low socioeconomic status" who are often viewed to have poor taste and low intelligence [5].

So unless you want to sound either like an aspiring dictator writing a manifesto on fascism or a hoity-toity snob, please don't ever use the word "masses" when you're really just referring to the general population in a normal context (and not doing a Marxist-type analysis).

.

3. The unspaced em dash is superior

Perhaps it's controversial for me to suggest the unspaced em dash more "proper" than the spaced en dash, since different style guides suggest one or the other, with the former convention being American and the latter British and Australian. There isn't a hard, strict grammar rule on what's "correct".

Technically speaking, either dash is fine in academia, as long as you're consistent. I never really paid attention to the difference in dashes, until my supervisor provided me with a First Class Honours dissertation from her student in 2017. As I analysed their text closely, I hyperfixated on the fact that they used the unspaced em dash. Because it looked clean. Elegant. Unified.

This made me ultra-aware of how most of the texts I was engaging with—both fictional and academic—used the unspaced em dash. The beauty in this punctuation mark lies in its versatility and wonderful functions: It can behave like a colon, comma, or parenthesis. It can serve as a brief interruption to introduce relevant information, or provide emphasis to your point.

And it is most effective and pleasant when unspaced. Certain style guides claim that adding spaces around it creates too much of a visual gap in the text. While the unspaced em dash interrupts, its visual connection to the surrounding words makes the break in text look smooth and cohesive, allowing you to read the next part of the text more swiftly.

Excerpt from Right-Wing Women by Andrea Dworkin (1983). Look at the gorgeous way she uses the em dash!

Plus, the fact most style guides differentiate between the uses of the em dash, en dash, and hyphen supports the idea they shouldn't be interchangeable. The en dash is commonly used within dates, numbers, and capitalised names to signify "to" or "between". For example:

• The falafels are available 7:00 am–5:00pm.

• Read pages 111–560 to have a good cry.

• I'm catching the Brisbane–Sydney train.

The hyphen—the shortest dash of them all—is commonly found in certain types of compound words, as well as words with specific prefixes and suffixes. Here are some examples:

• There is nothing more eye-twitching than seeing a hyphen being used like an em dash.

• In mid-October, I'll visit my ex-fiancé's grave.

To me, these defined differences between the dashes is superior because I find them logical. Of course, it all comes down to personal preference, and I respect people's choice of whatever dash they wish to use. If a workplace style guide uses the en dash, then I'll adhere to it. In my personal writing, however, I'll always stick to respecting the established differences between the three dashes.

4. KILL YOUR DARLINGS!

Working on my Honours dissertation taught me that concision is key when it comes to writing. Of course, fiction is exempt from strictly adhering to this rule, since it's the genre with the most creative liberties.

Anyways, when it comes to the first draft of a written piece, I do my best to delete as much as I can, rather than adding more. My rule is that if your point can still stand without it, delete it. Even if you don't want to.

That funny metaphor you spent hours cooking up? Delete it. That rhetorical question you thought was a hit? Delete it. That extra paragraph that explains things even more? Delete it.

Wait after 24 hours and see if you're still pining after that deletion. If you've forgotten about it, then it's a sign that it was just extra, unnecessary fluff. And this applies to both the macro- and microscopic elements of your writing—from large paragraphs to a singular word choice.

Killing your darlings is quite freeing when you get used to it. Because great writing is clear. It gets to the point. And you should be okay with the possibility that it might require you to sacrifice a paragraph you spent hours working on.

4. You'll never be 100% satisfied with your writing, and that's okay

Perfect writing truly doesn't exist. Maybe you wrote something you thought was absolutely amazing, only to reread it two years later and nitpick the ways you would change it.

Time constraints, moods, knowledge, and life perspectives can reflect on your writing. Even if you write a masterpiece at your absolute peak, there would still be ways you can refine your text.

When I received feedback for the final draft of my thesis introduction, my supervisor wrote small suggestions to improve a paragraph that she deemed was excellent in the first draft. There is always room for improvement.

If your writing is clear, articulate, and surpasses the criteria of its genre, then it's good writing. You should still be happy with it, even if your future self would suggest changes. Writing is an ever-evolving practice, and that's why it's such a human craft.

[1] Baker, Sheridan. The Complete Stylist, 2nd ed. (New York: Thomas Y. Cromwell Company, 1972), 363.

[2] The Chicago Manual of Style, 17th ed. 5.204.

[3] ibid.

[4] Oxford English Dictionary, "Mass", accessed 2 June 2026, https://www.oed.com/dictionary/mass_n2?tab=meaning_and_use&tl=true#37718694.

[5] Dictionary.com, "the masses", accessed 2 June 2026, https://www.dictionary.com/browse/the-masses.