Like other writing coaches, I have often called out the use of “was” in literary works. Its passivity robs sentences of story impact. The common advice is that writers conduct global search and destroy missions to rid writing of those three letters in favor of something stronger—an action verb, a structural overhaul, anything with more panache. The editing mechanism is akin to how you might come at adverbs.

I have come around. Slightly.

“Was” isn’t a flaw in itself. It’s neither villain nor virtue. It is a tool. The art is knowing when to let it stand and when to demand more of yourself. In literary prose, the question isn’t “Is was wrong?” but “What do I need this sentence to do to advance the story?”

Here are some thoughts on how to address the problem.

When “Was” Works

Factual Matters. Use “was” when the sentence includes pure factual content rather than dramatizes an event.

“He was the first elected committee chair.”

“The apartment above was for lease.”

Here, “was” performs a proper grammatical function: linking subject to predicate. The sentences do not try to animate; they convey information. Replacing “was” with something more powerful would distort tone or inflate importance.

Orientation and Context. Use “was” to anchor the reader in time, space, or circumstance before action unfolds.

“The escape route through the alley was narrow and debris-ridden.”

“It was that time of day before the scorching sun took over.”

In these cases, “was” situates the reader. It frames the environment or moment without competing with the action that follows.

Evaluative or Interpretive Judgment. Use “was” when the sentence delivers interpretation, assessment, or distilled insight rather than depicts behavior.

“Her loyalty was beyond reproach.”

“It was the betrayal, not the failure, that endured with her.”

These sentences do not describe action; they reveal judgment or understanding. Converting them into action might dilute their authority or overdramatize the insight.

Tonal Restraint and Rhythmic Control. Use “was” when simplicity, gravity, or understatement strengthens the prose and its beats.

“That was enough.”

“This was truth.”

In these moments, the power lies in the expressed stillness. “Was” allows the sentence to land without flourish. The restraint is intentional.

Each of the above examples are context-dependent. They could be revised to read without the use of “was,” but that might defeat the expressive purpose.

When “Was” Fails You

Strong prose favors power verbs. “Was” becomes a problem when it substitutes for action or when it tells readers what to think or feel instead of allowing them to experience the story without being spoon-fed.

Static vs. Lived Moments. The classic is “he was angry,” which merely reports. Better to say something like “he pounded the conference room table and stormed out of the meeting.” Or instead of “the President was tired,” you might say “the President bobbed chin to chest throughout the staff meeting.” Both uses of “was” are grammatically correct, but do not provide visuals to engage readers.

Creating Scenes. Sometimes “was” summarizes rather than depicts scenes. If the “interaction with her ex-husband was difficult,” don’t tell, show why.

Enhancing Scenes. “Was” can be static rather than sensory and flatten an otherwise active moment. Compare the weak “the crowd was loud” with the stronger “the crowd surged and shouted, voices colliding and competing.”

Compression for Rhythm. In early drafts, it’s easy to overlook how rhythm and cadence shape the reading experience and heighten emotional impact. Often, “was” softens the prose unnecessarily. Compare: “It was in that moment that he finally understood” versus the sharper, more immediate “He then understood.”

Monotony. How many times does “was” in your writing appear in paragraphs? Maybe you can defend each separately, but read them aloud to see if collectively they dull the reading.

Authentic Character Voice. Is use of “was” consistent with how your characters think and express themselves or are they wont to use fragments, sharp expressions, or vivid images?

Starting a sentence. Many writers start sentences with “There was” or “There were.” For example: “There was a shuffle behind them” or “There was a time when people kept their fly bottoms fastened.” So wrote John Steinbeck in East of Eden. The rub is that starting a sentence that way delays action and stalls momentum. With apologies to Mr. Steinbeck, consider these alternatives: “Behind them, something shuffled” and “Back then, people kept their fly bottoms fastened.” The former is more suspense-driven, the latter more voice-driven.

Summary

When testing use of “was,” ask whether it states a fact or misses opportunity to advance and dramatize story.

Look for hidden agency. Are you obscuring who is doing what?

Does the scene call for immediacy?

Listen to the rhythm: does “was” provide a useful quiet beat or does it flatten the prose?

Distinguish between summary and scene. Efficiency may serve one but dilute the other.

Importantly, revise the sentence and see what happens. If replacing “was” sharpens clarity or force, make the change. Otherwise, let the word stand.

Finally, be ever mindful, rules are important, but they are dispensable in the sound discretion of the writer.