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Practice and improve writing style.
Improve your writing style by practicing using this free tool
Practice makes perfect, sure, we all know that. But practice what?
If you do not have a good writing style, and you keep writing in that same style, then, it does not matter how much you write. At the end, you will still have that not so good writing style.
Here's how you improve
You practice writing in the style of popular authors. Slowly, but surely, your brain will start picking up that same wonderful writing style which readers are loving so much, and your own writing style will improve. Makes sense?
Its all about training your brain to form sentences in a different way than what you are normally used to.
The difference is the same as a trained boxer, verses a regular guy. Who do you think will win a fight if the two go at it?
Practice writing like professionals!
Practice writing what is already there in popular books, and soon, you yourself would be writing in a similar style, in a similar flow.
Train your brain to write like professionals!
Spend at least half an hour with this tool, practicing writing like professionals.
Practice and improve your writing style below
Below, I have some random texts from popular authors. All you have to do is, spend some time daily, and type these lines in the box below. And, eventually, your brain picks the writing style, and your own writing style improves!
Practice writing like:
- Abraham Bram Stoker
- Agatha Christie
- Arthur Conan Doyle
- Charles Dickens
- Ernest Hemingway
- Hg Wells
- Jane Austen
- Mark Twain
- Rudyard Kipling
Type these lines in the boxes below to practice and improve your writing style.
“It is this, mon ami! That I can build card houses seven stories high, but I cannot”—thump—“find”—thump—“ that last link of which I spoke to you.”
And little Cynthia? Did she suspect? She looked very tired and ill, I thought. The heaviness and languor of her manner were very marked. I asked her if she were feeling ill, and she answered frankly:
“I have numbered them, 1, 2, 3. Will you describe them to me?”
“That may have been done some time ago,” I interrupted.
I don’t know what possessed me. Her beauty, perhaps, as she sat there, with the sunlight glinting down on her head; perhaps the sense of relief at encountering someone who so obviously could have no connection with the tragedy; perhaps honest pity for her youth and loneliness. Anyway, I leant forward, and taking her little hand, I said awkwardly:
The man I had seen on the bed upstairs stood there facing us, gleaming with a faint ghostly light. There was blood on his lips, and he held his right hand out, pointing. Suddenly a brilliant light seemed to proceed from it. It passed over Poirot and me, and fell on Mrs. Maltravers. I saw her white terrified face, and something else!
He suited the action to the word, demanded and was accorded a private room. We three followed him, puzzled and uncomprehending.
“Thank you, Mrs. Havering. Now what time was it that this man arrived?”
“One moment; have you ever seen among the effects of Mr. Opalsen a card like this?”
“Évidemment,” said Poirot, not disconcerted. “As Mademoiselle is positive she did not leave the room——”
“Impossible! The housekeeper was with her when the shot was fired.”
Japp I found at the Matlock Arms, and he took me forthwith to see the body. Harrington Pace was a small, spare, cleanshaven man, typically American in appearance. He had been shot through the back of the head, and the revolver had been discharged at close quarters.
“Ah, yes—I was going to ask you what you thought about that beard?”
While it was clear that the woman herself could not have committed the crime, since at the moment the shot was fired Mrs. Havering was with her in the hall, nevertheless she must have some connection with the murder, or why should she suddenly take to her heels and bolt?
“It must have been just before nine o’clock. We had finished dinner, and were sitting over our coffee and cigarettes.”