Writing reveals more than we think. Every word, sentence, and paragraph is a signal—a reflection of how we think, how we lead, and how we show up in the world. Strong writing doesn’t just convey information; it projects authority. It tells readers, “I know what I’m doing.” Poor writing does the opposite. It raises doubts, breeds confusion, and chips away at your credibility one unclear phrase at a time.
Over the last decade, I’ve written and edited over twenty books and guided more than 130 clients through the writing process. I’ve worked with entrepreneurs, executives, coaches, and creatives—all smart people with something to say. And I’ve learned this: credibility isn’t just earned through experience. It’s built word by word, sentence by sentence, page by page. When your writing lacks precision, readers hesitate. When it flows with clarity and intention, readers trust you.
Most people think credibility is about achievements. But on the page, it’s about structure, clarity, and tone. That’s why I’ve written this article—to show you the writing mistakes that silently erode your authority. You won’t find grammar nitpicking here. Instead, you’ll learn about the subtle yet devastating errors that instantly make readers question your professionalism.
Whether you’re writing a book, article, blog post, or professional email, the mistakes I’ll share apply. They cross genres. They appear in thought leadership as often as they do in client reports. And they’re easy to fix—once you know what to look for.
The Hidden Cost of Poor Writing
Overly Long Sentences
Missing, Unnecessary, or Disorganized Details
Using Words Unknown to the Audience
Too Many Abstract Words
Unparallel Lists
Switching Verb Tenses
Switching Persons
Change in Tone
Weak Transitions
Missing Punctuation
Strong Writing Is Intentional Writing
Credibility isn’t a bonus in writing—it’s the baseline. Whether you're trying to educate, persuade, or inspire, your message only matters if people believe you. The challenge is that most readers won’t tell you when your writing loses them. They won’t send an email explaining they stopped reading because your tone shifted or your sentences ran too long. They’ll just move on—and take their trust with them.
I’ve seen it time and again. A coach with life-changing insights, a founder with a powerful origin story, a leader with bold ideas… all undermined by basic writing issues. It’s never intentional. Most writers simply aren’t aware of how small choices—an awkward sentence, a misplaced transition, an abstract phrase—shape the reader’s perception.
That perception is everything. In writing, authority doesn’t come from volume or vocabulary. It comes from clarity. From structure. From intention. When readers feel you’ve taken the time to guide them well, they lean in. When they sense confusion, they step back.
This is the hidden cost of poor writing. It’s not just about missed engagement—it’s about missed opportunities. A weak article doesn’t just underperform. It makes people question your judgment. A disjointed chapter doesn’t just need editing. It makes readers doubt your expertise.
You don’t need perfect grammar to write credibly. But you do need control. When your writing flows with precision, readers trust that your thinking does too. And that trust is the foundation of everything else—persuasion, connection, and conversion.
Don’t write like it’s 1856. During the Victorian Era, seventy-word sentences were common, but not anymore. In today’s fast-paced world, overly long sentences are a credibility killer. They make your writing harder to follow, no matter how smart or experienced your reader is.
Long sentences demand extra effort. Readers must pause, backtrack, and decipher meaning—often more than once. While sometimes necessary for complex ideas, long sentences make reading unnecessarily difficult.
Long sentences signal to readers that you don’t respect their time. They imply your thoughts are scattered and that you lack succinctness. Complexity may be acceptable in academic circles, but in professional or nonfiction writing, it erodes trust.
Overly long sentences make you seem uncertain, unclear, and unprofessional. Strong communicators convey more by saying less. Long-winded writing reflects a lack of structure, discernment, and organization—all traits readers associate with inexperience.
Monitor your sentence length. The average sentence in modern English runs 15–20 words. Vary your sentence length, but avoid exceeding 40–45 words. Play with it—count your words for a few paragraphs and aim for variety.
Some sentences must be long to explain complex thoughts or create stylistic variety. Use them sparingly, like seasoning in a dish. Long sentences should be the exception, not the rule.
Overly Long Sentence
“While it’s true that the intricacies and nuances of the English language can be quite fascinating, particularly when one delves into the syntactical structures and various forms of punctuation, it’s crucial to acknowledge the importance of maintaining brevity and conciseness in one's writing, as excessively long sentences tend to overwhelm readers, hinder comprehension, and ultimately detract from the overall effectiveness and impact of the intended message.”
This 66-word sentence might pass in literary fiction but not in nonfiction or business writing. It confuses rather than clarifies.
Appropriately Long Sentence
“Effective writing requires a balance between the allure of linguistic intricacies and the need for brevity, ensuring that readers can easily comprehend and engage with the intended message.”
At 28 words, this sentence stays readable. It’s longer than average but clear and controlled.
Good writing isn’t just about ideas—it’s about delivering the right details at the right time. Without clear, relevant, and well-ordered information, your writing becomes vague or confusing. Readers can’t follow your reasoning, and your message loses impact.
When you omit key details, readers are left with questions. When you include too many, they get overwhelmed. And when details are out of order, the flow breaks down. In every case, readers struggle—and you lose momentum.
Details provide substance. They answer unspoken questions and clarify the meaning behind your ideas. When they’re missing or scattered, your writing appears careless or rushed. And when details don’t support your main point, they distract or confuse.
Lack of detail—or detail chaos—suggests you don’t fully understand your topic. That’s the kiss of death for credibility. Thoughtful, organized information shows that you’ve done the work. Disorganized writing, on the other hand, makes readers doubt your expertise.
Use question words as a mental checklist: Who? What? When? Where? Why? How? Identify the core idea, then fill in only what the reader needs to fully understand that idea. Order the details logically—from general to specific or chronological when appropriate.
Over time, structuring details becomes second nature. But in the beginning, be intentional. Practice outlining paragraphs before writing them. Read your sentences aloud and ask, “Does this make sense to someone who knows nothing about the topic?”
Weak Sentence with Missing or Disorganized Details
“The event was successful, and attendees enjoyed the food, drinks, music, and entertainment.”
This sentence is vague. What event? Where? Who organized it? The list of attractions is also generic, offering no vivid imagery or unique takeaways.
Stronger Sentence with Clear, Ordered Details
“The annual Gala Fundraiser, held at the Grand Ballroom of the Riverview Hotel, captivated guests with gourmet cuisine, a live jazz ensemble, performances by local artists, and a charity auction that raised over $100,000 for children's education.”
This version paints a specific, engaging picture. The who, what, where, and why are all present—without excess. It’s the kind of sentence readers trust.
Complex words may make you feel smart—but if your audience doesn’t understand them, you lose. Every unfamiliar term or jargon-filled sentence is a roadblock. Instead of drawing readers in, you push them away.
Many writers default to big words in an attempt to sound professional. But sophistication doesn’t come from complexity—it comes from clarity. If your reader has to pause to look up a word, you’ve lost their attention.
Using unknown words creates a gap between you and your audience. It says, “This isn’t for you.” That alienation kills connection and makes your writing inaccessible. In most cases, a simpler word communicates more powerfully.
You might think big words show expertise—but they often signal insecurity. True experts explain complex ideas in simple terms. If your readers can’t follow your writing, they won’t trust your thinking. That’s a serious blow to credibility.
Use language your audience already understands. Think about their level of knowledge, vocabulary, and context. If you must use a complex term, define it. The best writers make their message feel effortless to read—even when the ideas are deep.
If you’re writing for a niche audience—scientists, legal experts, developers—specialized language is fine. Just make sure it’s justified by your readers' knowledge level, not your desire to sound impressive.
Confusing Sentence with Unknown Words
“The scholarly paper delved into the fundamental merging of historical inclinations, shedding light on the intricate connections between contrasting phenomena in the context of modern socio-political discourse.”
This sentence is overloaded with jargon and abstract concepts. Most readers would stop halfway through.
Clear Sentence with Familiar Words
“The paper explored how historical patterns influence today’s social and political debates by connecting events from different eras.”
This version still communicates depth—but in a way that readers can absorb and engage with.
Many writers show arrogance and condescension by using every $100 word they know. Perhaps you too use too many complex words in your writing. And while you may not be arrogant, your audience may perceive you as such. Only use a $100 word when it’s the only word that conveys what you mean.
As a rule of thumb, if you can’t explain something to a child, you don’t master it well enough. True experts can simplify their ideas to the maximum without losing the essence of their message. If you can’t do that, remedy the situation instead of hiding behind $100 words.
When you use complex jargon—or simply words your audience doesn’t know—you’re putting a wall between you and your audience. Because they can’t understand you as well, your audience members can’t relate to you as much, which means they can’t trust you as much.
Your success as a communicator is measured by how well people understand you. If your audience doesn’t understand you, they can’t experience the fruits of your knowledge, story, or expertise. And because of that, they can’t find you credible.
Using unnecessarily complex language is a sign that you don’t know your audience well enough. If you get feedback that your writing is overly complex from a target audience member, go back to your audience and understand their level of knowledge and their reading level.
You may be writing something novel for fellow experts in your field. If that’s the case and you need to introduce new terminology, by all means, do it. If a word is novel, obscure, or unknown to your audience for a legitimate reason, it’s perfectly acceptable to use it—as long as you explain it.
“The scholarly paper delved into the fundamental merging of historical inclinations, shedding light on the intricate connections between contrasting phenomena in the context of modern socio political discourse.”
This sentence uses several big words and complex language, making it difficult for a wider audience to understand the intended message. The sentence may come across as pompous or unnecessarily complicated.
"The thoughtful analysis explored the essential combination of ancient tendencies, explaining the complex details of the contrasting events in present-day social and political discussions."
In this example, the sentence is rephrased to use simpler and more commonly understood words. The sentence conveys the same idea but in a way that is more accessible to a broader audience. Using familiar language helps readers grasp the message without feeling alienated or overwhelmed by unnecessarily complex vocabulary.
Abstract language makes your writing sound vague, intellectual, or even poetic—but it often weakens clarity. Abstract words lack imagery. They don’t anchor your message in the reader’s mind.
Words like “truth,” “freedom,” “honor,” or “growth” can mean wildly different things to different people. If your sentences lean too heavily on abstract language, readers can’t picture what you mean—or worse, they interpret it differently.
Readers crave specificity. Abstract words blur meaning. They dilute your message and force the audience to guess. Even powerful ideas fall flat when expressed in unclear or conceptual terms.
If your writing is vague, readers assume your thinking is vague too. That undermines your authority. Clear, grounded language signals that you’ve thought things through—and that you respect your audience’s time and attention.
Look for abstract words and ask yourself: can I make this more concrete? Replace vague terms with tangible examples or measurable details. Show the reader what you mean.
Some abstract language is unavoidable, especially in philosophical or academic writing. But even in those cases, the most effective communicators ground abstract ideas in relatable, real-world terms.
Abstract Sentence
“The concept of happiness is a subjective experience influenced by factors such as contentment, fulfillment, and well-being.”
Concrete Version
“Happiness looks different for everyone—it might come from achieving a goal, spending time with family, or simply enjoying a quiet walk after a long day.”
The second version offers specific, visual examples that make the abstract idea easier to grasp
Consistency in verb tense is a simple but powerful way to maintain clarity. When the timeline shifts without warning, readers get confused. And confusion erodes trust.
Writing often involves movement through time—recounting past events, reflecting in the present, or projecting into the future. But shifting verb tenses mid-sentence or mid-paragraph disorients the reader. It breaks the narrative flow.
Verb tense anchors your reader in time. If you switch from past to present without reason, readers have to stop and reorient themselves. This disrupts immersion and damages the reading experience.
Inconsistent verb tense suggests sloppiness. It makes your writing feel unpolished and rushed. When readers see inconsistencies, they question your attention to detail—and by extension, your professionalism.
Choose your tense deliberately. If you're telling a story that already happened, stick with the past tense. If you're offering commentary or instruction, the present tense usually works best. Just be consistent.
Occasionally, you may reference the present while recounting the past—especially when drawing a connection to current implications. This is acceptable as long as it’s done sparingly and with intention.
Inconsistent Tense
“I woke up early and made coffee. As I’m drinking it, my phone rings. My friend tells me about a party, so I decide to go.”
This switches between past and present without clear purpose.
Consistent Tense
“I woke up early and made coffee. As I drank it, my phone rang. My friend told me about a party, and I decided to go.”
The revised version stays in the past tense and creates a smoother, more professional read.
When you write a list, readers expect symmetry. If the items in your list don’t follow the same grammatical pattern, the sentence feels off—even if readers can’t explain why. This mistake is subtle but powerful in undermining clarity.
Parallel structure makes writing easier to read and understand. A list of mixed verb forms, nouns, or phrases forces the reader to pause and decode. That mental friction weakens your message.
Writing is linear. Readers don’t want to stop and reread a sentence because your list was inconsistent. An unparallel list creates confusion and signals that your writing hasn’t been carefully edited.
When your structure breaks down, readers notice—even subconsciously. A lack of parallelism makes your writing feel unpolished, which makes you look less credible. Professionals communicate with precision, and that includes sentence structure.
Stick to the same grammatical category when writing lists. If you start with verbs, keep using verbs. If you start with nouns, stay with nouns. This creates rhythm and flow.
There’s no caveat here. This is a universal rule across writing styles. Lists must be parallel—always.
Unparallel List
“On our vacation, we enjoyed swimming in the ocean, hiking through scenic trails, and the beautiful sunsets.”
Parallel List
“On our vacation, we enjoyed swimming in the ocean, hiking through scenic trails, and watching the beautiful sunsets.”
In the corrected version, every item in the list begins with a gerund, creating a smooth and consistent structure.
Point of view is the lens through which your reader experiences the writing. If that lens keeps changing, your message becomes blurry. Switching persons—first, second, third—mid-piece disrupts the flow and confuses the reader.
Imagine you’re being spoken to directly, then suddenly the writer shifts and refers to someone else entirely. You’re no longer sure who’s being addressed. This creates distance between the writer and the reader.
Each grammatical person sets a relationship with the reader. First person (I) is personal. Second person (you) is direct. Third person (they/he/she) is observational. When you shift between them without purpose, you break that relationship.
Inconsistent point of view feels disjointed and amateurish. Readers expect cohesion. Switching persons signals a lack of control over the narrative, which undermines your authority as the writer.
Pick a point of view based on your goal—and stick to it. If you’re telling your story, use first person. If you’re speaking to the reader, stay in second person. Avoid switching unless you have a clear reason to do so.
Literary fiction may experiment with shifting perspectives, but in professional, nonfiction, or instructional writing, consistency is king. Shifts must be intentional, not accidental.
Inconsistent Point of View
“At XYZ Company, we help you grow your business. Clients appreciate our fast service, and they always recommend us to others.”
This shifts from “you” (direct address) to “they” (speaking about others), breaking the flow.
Consistent Point of View
“At XYZ Company, we help you grow your business. You’ll appreciate our fast service, and you’ll feel confident referring us to others.”
The revision maintains second-person perspective throughout, keeping the reader engaged and involved.
Tone is your voice on the page. It’s how readers feel your presence—confident, casual, formal, friendly, or authoritative. A sudden change in tone disrupts that connection and makes readers question your intent or clarity.
Tone sets expectations. If you begin with a formal tone and suddenly drop into casual slang or humor, the shift feels jarring. Readers might wonder if you’ve lost focus—or worse, if you’re taking them less seriously.
Inconsistent tone breaks trust. Writing should feel like a continuous experience. If your tone changes without reason, your message starts to feel incoherent.
A sudden shift in tone suggests a lack of awareness about your audience and purpose. Consistent tone is a marker of professionalism. When it fluctuates, readers question your control and seriousness.
Decide on your tone before you start writing. Is your piece formal, conversational, or motivational? Stay consistent throughout. You can vary sentence length and energy—but not the emotional register or style.
If your writing includes dialogue or quoted material, tone may vary for characters or voices. But your authorial tone—the core narrative voice—should stay consistent.
Inconsistent Tone
“Our team demonstrates a high level of professionalism and expertise in every client interaction. By the way, we’re awesome at what we do.”
The informal phrase “by the way” and “awesome” disrupt the otherwise professional tone.
Consistent Tone
“Our team demonstrates professionalism and expertise in every client interaction, consistently delivering results that reflect our high standards.”
The revised version stays formal, aligned, and professional throughout.
Transitions are the glue that holds your writing together. Without them, even well-written sentences can feel disconnected and choppy. Weak or missing transitions make your writing hard to follow—and hard to trust.
Many writers focus only on the content of their sentences, forgetting that the relationship between ideas is just as important. If you don’t guide the reader from one idea to the next, you force them to do the heavy lifting.
Readers need cues to move through your argument or story. Without strong transitions, the flow breaks down. It’s like watching a film with missing frames—jarring and confusing.
When your writing lacks flow, it looks unprofessional and unpolished. Readers may not finish your piece. Worse, they may assume you didn’t understand your own structure. That hurts your perceived expertise.
Use linking words and phrases intentionally: “however,” “as a result,” “meanwhile,” “in contrast,” “next,” etc. Transitions clarify relationships between ideas and create momentum.
Highly skilled writers can sometimes reduce transitions through impeccable logical structure. But for most writers, especially in long-form content, strong transitions are non-negotiable.
Weak Transitions
“We researched the topic. We interviewed experts. We wrote the article.”
This sequence lacks flow or hierarchy.
Stronger Transitions
“After extensive research, we interviewed leading experts to gain deeper insights. With their input, we crafted an article that reflects the most current thinking.”
The second version guides the reader and shows how one step led to the next.
Punctuation may seem small—but it carries enormous weight. A single missing comma or period can completely change a sentence’s meaning, tone, and flow.
Punctuation tells the reader how to read. It indicates pauses, stops, connections, and emphasis. Without it, your writing becomes confusing. Readers are forced to guess what you meant.
Even one missing punctuation mark can cause misunderstanding. And when punctuation errors pile up, they interrupt reading rhythm and make your writing look careless.
Sloppy punctuation signals lack of attention. It reflects poorly on your professionalism—especially in nonfiction, business, or academic writing. If readers spot basic punctuation errors, they’ll doubt your attention to bigger details too.
Relearn the fundamentals. Use commas to separate clauses, periods to end complete thoughts, and semicolons to link related ideas. If you’re unsure, use tools like Grammarly or ask a trusted editor for help.
In experimental or artistic writing, punctuation rules may be intentionally broken for effect. But in most professional contexts, correctness matters.
Missing Punctuation
“The budget review was the first item followed by the marketing update the board also discussed new hires and expansion.”
This sentence runs on with no clear structure.
Corrected Version
“The budget review was the first item, followed by the marketing update. The board also discussed new hires and expansion.”
Now the sentence is clear, structured, and easy to read.
Credibility isn’t earned through big words or complicated sentences—it’s built through clarity, structure, and control. These ten writing mistakes may seem small, but they carry a heavy cost. They confuse readers, interrupt flow, and quietly signal that your thinking—or your process—isn’t sharp.
As a writing coach and ghostwriter, I’ve helped more than 130 professionals fix these exact issues in books, blogs, and business content. And what I’ve learned is simple: writing mistakes don’t reflect intelligence—they reflect habits. With awareness and the right tools, you can eliminate them and elevate your voice.
Your writing doesn’t just convey ideas. It conveys identity. The more deliberate you are with your words, the more your readers will trust your message—and the person behind it.
If you’re serious about improving your writing skills, stop editing only for typos. Start editing for credibility. Audit your past writing, watch for these mistakes, and commit to developing a sharper, more confident writing style.
And if you’d like help refining your writing process, let’s talk. At Trivium Writing, we coach writers, leaders, and experts who want their words to reflect their expertise—without compromise.