10 Clichés That Need to Die Already

 

Alright, strap in. Last time we talked about why clichés are the intellectual equivalent of Styrofoam packing peanuts. This time we’re naming names. I’m dragging the usual suspects out into the daylight. And I’m not giving them a cigarette and a blindfold. They’re going down.

Here are 10 of the most overused, overbaked, and underwhelming clichés clogging up American English writing:

1. “At the end of the day”
   No one has ever said this phrase and then followed it with anything profound. Spoiler alert: the end of the day is usually just you eating cereal in your underwear.
   
   
2. “Only time will tell”
   Wow. How brave of you to put all your narrative chips on the single least helpful concept in existence. Next time, just write: I’ve got nothing.
   
   
3. “The calm before the storm”
   Oh really? Did you think of that all by yourself, Captain Barometer?
   
   
4. “Avoid it like the plague”
   The problem here is that people don’t avoid plagues. We’ve seen the news. They argue about them on Facebook.
   
   
5. “Every cloud has a silver lining”
   Except when it doesn’t. Sometimes a cloud is just a big wet bastard that ruins your picnic.
   
   
6. “The tip of the iceberg”
   So majestic. So Titanic. So played out. Stop acting like you’re Leonardo DiCaprio dangling off a door.
   
   
7. “Plenty of fish in the sea”
   There aren’t. We overfished. Have you seen the state of the oceans? Maybe just tell your heartbroken friend, Yeah, dating sucks.
   
   
8. “Low-hanging fruit”
   Congratulations, you’ve turned laziness into an agricultural metaphor. Just admit you wanted the easy option and move on.
   
   
9. “The writing on the wall”
   Here’s the writing on the wall: stop using this phrase.
   
   
10. “It is what it is”
    This is the king of useless clichés. The linguistic equivalent of shrugging until your shoulders fall off.

Clichés are linguistic zombies. They look like words, they shuffle along, but they’re already dead. If you find one in your writing, don’t pet it. Don’t feed it. Put it down.

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Up Next → Clichés—Sometimes the Joke’s on Them

Plot twist: I don’t hate all clichés. But you’re going to have to read this one to find out why.

← Back to Part 1 Why Writers Should Avoid Using Clichés

Start at the beginning if you want to hear me rant about why clichés are literary twaddle.

 

Why Writers Should Avoid Using Clichés (Even Though It’s Easier Said Than Done)

 

The thing about clichés is that they’ve already done all the heavy lifting. They come pre-packaged with a bow, like a grocery store cake. You know it’ll taste like sugar, but you’ll forget it the second you swallow. That’s the problem. Clichés don’t stick. They don’t bruise, sting, or leave a mark. They slide right off the brain like a fried egg on a Teflon pan.

Writers, especially new ones, love to hide behind clichés the way nervous speakers hide behind a podium. They’re little parachutes for when your imagination decides to take a coffee break. And yes, we’ve all done it. We’ve all leaned on them because they feel safe, familiar, universal.

But safe doesn’t make anyone keep turning pages. Familiar doesn’t make a line hum inside someone’s chest three days later. A cliché is like reheating leftovers in the microwave: sustenance, sure, but no one’s licking the plate.

The real juice of writing comes from making the reader see it differently. Not just cold, but cold in the way your knuckles ache before the snow comes. Not just tired, but tired like your bones are begging for a bed that doesn’t exist. These are the details that snag people. That tattoo themselves in memory.

Clichés are basically the graveyard of originality. If you’re dragging one into your work, ask yourself: What am I actually trying to say? Then dig deeper. Scratch until you bleed a little. You’ll find something truer, sharper, more unsettling. That’s the stuff readers are starving for.

Because if writing is about connection, clichés are the static on the line. Clear them out, and your voice finally comes through.

________________________

Up Next → 10 Clichés That Need to Die Already

Think you don’t rely on clichés? Let’s see if your favorites make the hit list.

 

Clichés: Cheap Tricks and How to Kill Them

Part 1: Why Writers Should Avoid Using Clichés (Even Though It’s Easier Said Than Done)

Blurb: The thing about clichés is they don’t leave bruises. They’re safe, polite, disposable … and that’s why they’re poison for writers. In this first post, I pull the plug on why clichés are lazy shortcuts that sand down your voice until it’s as smooth and forgettable as elevator music.

Read Part 1 →

 

Part 2: 10 Clichés That Need to Die Already

Blurb: Let’s get specific. In round two, I drag the worst offenders into the spotlight: from “at the end of the day” to “it is what it is.” Spoiler: they don’t survive the encounter.

Read Part 2 →

 

Part 3: Clichés—Sometimes the Joke’s on Them

Blurb: Plot twist: sometimes clichés work. Not often. Not without restraint. But when you twist them for humor, when you use them to make a character sound human, or when you let one land with a wink, they can actually earn their keep. This finale is about knowing when to break my own rules.

Read Part 3 →

 

Why I Never Niched Down

 

Every other day on LinkedIn, someone’s shouting about how you have to niche down if you want to succeed as a copywriter. Pick a lane, they say. Specialize, they say. Be the "go-to" in SaaS for dentists who run on solar power, they say.

And every time I hear it, I can’t help but think: Nah.

Niche down? It doesn't align with my curious nature. And curiosity is one of my strengths. Niche down? Never have. Never will.

And I’ve done OK.

As a copywriter: I don’t need to spend a decade buried in the widget-making industry to write killer copy about widgets. I need to ask the right questions. I need to listen. I need to pay attention to what the audience cares about, what the brand promises, and how the product solves a problem.

I get up to speed fast. Research like a detective with a deadline. Sniff out the story.

And then I write words that make people lean in, click, sign up, buy.

And that’s true whether the client sells software, sandwiches, or shirts.

In fact, too much industry knowledge can be a curse. Because when you’ve marinated in the same industry stew for years, you start dragging around a suitcase full of preconceived notions, biases, and "best practices." You stop asking questions. You stop being curious. You stop seeing things fresh.

And fresh is where the magic happens.

Of course (before someone in pharma or finance comes for me) some industries have rules, regs, and legal landmines that can’t be ignored. You need to know 'em. But that’s different from being so entrenched in an industry that you can’t see it from the outside anymore.

Great copy isn’t about parroting industry jargon. It’s about connecting with humans. It’s about clarity. It’s about relevance. And none of that requires me to live and die in a single niche.

So no, I never niched down. And I never felt the need.

Because I’m not here to be the copywriter who knows everything about one tiny sliver of the world.
I’m here to be the copywriter who knows how to get people to pay attention.

And that skill?

That travels.