There’s no nice way to tell a colleague he or she is using a cliché. But it’s something a conscientious copy editor must do from time to time.

Subtlety doesn’t work.

A few weeks ago I pointed out to a writer that “to be or not to be” has been used already, and it might not be an effective first sentence in the 21st century. I further pointed out that the same phrase was set to appear on the same page in the same edition of the paper, also in a lead sentence.

The writer’s response? To request that the other lead be changed. And that’s what happened.

But one “to be or not to be” lead still made it into print. Outcome: unsatisfactory.

My new approach, which I’m practicing in front of a mirror, will be more direct. “I respect you as a writer and as a person. But you are about to publish a cliché, and I think you can do better.”

Clichés are boorish party guests, loudmouthed and obtuse. They elbow their way into interesting conversations and then burp. They think they are clever. They think they are original. They are not.

I’ve written about my disdain for holiday-related clichés—of “tis the season” or “deck the halls” leads at Christmas, and of the inevitable “eggstravaganzas” and “eggsplosions” of Easter. I’m weary of Halloween events described as “spooktacular.” I’m braced this month to see “By George!” in at least one headline referring to Washington’s birthday.

I realize that people may disagree about what constitutes a cliché. My loathsome cliché might be someone else’s useful idiom. Writing is subjective. All that.

Still, if you write any of the following, I just want you to know that I respect you as a writer and as a person. But I think you can do better.

• “To be or not to be.” It was thought-provoking and original when Shakespeare wrote it. As your opening sentence, it’s neither.

• “Webster’s dictionary defines [something] as [something].” Dictionaries are useful, and if I need to know what a word means, I’ll use one. But if this is your opening sentence, I will read on only if
someone’s paying me.

• “At the end of the day” when you mean “in summary.” Are we all British now? (I do think this phrase is fine if you are referring to the actual end of an actual day. “At the end of the day, they went home.”)

• “Pawsitively” in headlines or stories about dogs or cats. Or any other made-up “paws” word. Or any “paws/pause” pun.

• “Occupy” in front of any random noun. How quickly this became not clever.

• “Her dream turned into a nightmare.” Ugh. (I’m not saying I haven’t used this one myself. I’m just saying that I respect myself as a writer and as a person, and I think I can do better.)

• “Over the top.” What does this even mean?

• “It’s all good.” No, it’s not.

• “Well-manicured lawn.” It was clever once. The first time anyone thought of it. Maybe.