It’s not a visceral hatred. I consider you to be like a nasty habit, was. I lean on you like a little writer crack pipe, or a nasty gambling addiction.
I’ll write, and you passively creep in, unnoticed. She was this. He was that. There was this. Was was was.
I’ve struck you down. I eradicated you from chapter 1. The stain of passive voice has shifted! It is now awkward voice. What’s wrong with passive voice? Weak writing? Wazzat? Who decided these rules, anyway?
If you haven’t figured it out, I read a top 10 stuff you’re doing wrong in your indy writing OMG!!11 post. I read down it, and I’m all smug, like you do, saying, “nah, I don’t do that. I’m freakin’ perfect. My stuff don’t stink. What are these guys sayin’? Was. Who writes in passive voice?”
As a precaution, strictly a precaution, no reason to panic, I ran a search on “was” in my manuscript.
Aw. Um. Good thing I didn’t tell anyone my thoughts on this, because I’m a passive using fool. LOOK AT ALL THOSE INDIRECT VERBS! The place is crawling with passive language. I blotted out a few extra non-threatening wases just because they looked like unwashed gremlins who’d sneak in a snack after midnight, in the bathtub, and repopulate my novel. The horror! The horror!
My goal is to write as well as Josef Conrad. I, after all, am a native speaker of English. He learned it when he was an adult. I can do better, surely. ;D