In reading Kushiel’s Mercy, the sixth Kushiel book by Jacqueline Carey, I noticed a repetitively-used adjective.

Homely.

In American English, “homely” means someone unattractive. The character in question, Kratos, is a retired wrestler with a homely face and a squashed nose. Oh, and did I mention his homely face? Because Carey does. Repeatedly. Last night I read the last third or so of the book and came across it several times.

I caught those three usages of “homely”, and I’m sure I missed several others. Overall she used the word 13 times in the book, 12 of them in the American fashion and once in the British fashion (to mean “comfortable, like a home”) So maybe it’s not that much repetition, but it still seems unnecessary. Once is fine. Twice is okay. Three times? Twelve times?

I know what Carey is trying to do: she wants us to remember that Kratos is not beautiful like the D’Angelines — or even many of the others in the book who are not D’Angeline. But if you think about it, you probably have acquaintances (maybe co-workers) who you see regularly who also are not beautiful. Some might even be considered homely. My question is: do you think of them first and foremost as being unattractive? Of course you don’t. You might think that the first or second time you meet them, but would you describe them that way if asked? Of course not, because it would be rude. I have friends who some might consider unattractive, but I don’t refer to them that way in my writing or in my head.

I’m sure there are plenty of other ways Carey could have referred to Kratos, but this is what she chose, and it stands out. Anytime something in your writing stands out, it has the propensity to distract the reader from what’s going on. That’s the last thing you want.