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Active Voice in Fiction and Ghostwriting: Why It Matters
Active voice means the subject does the action. “Jessica drew her weapon.” Passive voice means the subject receives the action. “The weapon was drawn by Jessica.” The difference sounds minor on paper. In practice, across 80,000 words, it’s the difference between prose that moves and prose that sits there waiting for something to happen.
After writing dozens of novels and ghostwriting 54 books, I write in active voice by default. Not because a grammar teacher said to. Because active voice does three things that matter in both fiction and nonfiction: it controls pacing, it creates clarity, and it puts the reader closer to the action. Here’s how each of those works in practice.
Active Voice Controls Pacing
Pacing in fiction isn’t just about how fast events happen. It’s about how fast the reader processes them. Active voice sentences read faster than passive voice sentences because they’re shorter, more direct, and require less parsing. The reader’s brain moves from subject to verb to object without detours.
“Danny kicked the door open” reads faster than “The door was kicked open by Danny.” Same event. Different speed. In an action sequence, that speed difference multiplied across dozens of sentences determines whether the scene feels urgent or sluggish.
In Shield of Ashes, where seven days of escalating nuclear war unfold in sequence, pacing had to stay relentless. Passive constructions would have slowed every scene. “Missiles were launched by the coalition” puts the missiles first and the people second. “The coalition launched missiles” puts the decision-makers first, which is where the tension lives. The people making choices under pressure are more interesting than the hardware they deploy.
The reverse is also true. When you want pacing to slow down, when a character is processing grief or sitting with a realization, passive constructions can create that heaviness deliberately. “The letter had been read three times before she set it down” has a weight that “She read the letter three times” doesn’t carry. The passive voice here creates distance, which serves the emotional beat. Active voice is the default. Passive voice is the exception you deploy on purpose.
Active Voice Creates Clarity
Clarity is the most underrated quality in fiction. Readers who have to reread a sentence to figure out who did what aren’t immersed in your story. They’re doing grammar homework. Active voice eliminates most of that confusion by putting the actor first.
“The committee approved the proposal” is clear. “The proposal was approved” leaves the reader wondering: by whom? In fiction, that ambiguity rarely serves the story. In ghostwriting, it can undermine the client’s authority. A business book that says “Results were achieved” sounds like nobody was responsible. “Our team achieved results” gives the credit where the client wants it.
This matters more in action sequences than anywhere else. The AI-Enhanced Awful Writing Handbook covers the “overcrowded action sentence” problem: writers cramming too many simultaneous events into one sentence because action scenes feel like they should be dense. The fix starts with active voice and simple sentences. “He dove through the window” is clear. “The window was crashed through as shots were being fired while the helicopter circled overhead” is a puzzle the reader has to solve instead of a scene they get to experience.
Human cognition processes events sequentially. Active voice delivers events sequentially. Passive voice asks readers to work backward from the result to the cause. In an action scene, that extra cognitive step kills momentum.
Active Voice Puts the Reader Closer
The distance between the reader and the story is controlled partly by voice. Active voice reduces that distance. When the subject acts, the reader watches someone do something. When the action happens to the subject, the reader watches something happen to someone. The first feels immediate. The second feels reported.
“Jessica grabbed the controls and pulled hard” puts the reader in the cockpit. “The controls were grabbed and pulled” puts the reader in a debriefing room hearing about it afterward. Both convey the same information. One creates experience. The other creates summary.
This distinction matters enormously in ghostwriting. Clients hire me because they want their book to sound like them, and most people speak in active voice naturally. When someone tells you a story over coffee, they say “I called the investor and pitched the deal.” They don’t say “The investor was called by me and the deal was pitched.” If the ghostwritten book sounds more formal and passive than the client sounds in person, the voice is wrong. Active voice keeps the manuscript aligned with how the client actually communicates.
When Passive Voice Works
Active voice is the default. Passive voice is a tool, not a mistake. There are specific situations where passive voice serves the writing better.
When the actor is unknown or unimportant: “The village was destroyed overnight.” The reader doesn’t know who did it yet, and that mystery is the point.
When the result matters more than the cause: “Three hundred people were evacuated.” The focus belongs on the people, not on whoever organized the evacuation.
When you want emotional distance: “She had been told the news hours earlier, and still couldn’t process it.” The passive construction creates a numb, disconnected feeling that matches the character’s state.
When the rhythm of the paragraph needs variation: A page of nothing but subject-verb-object sentences becomes monotonous. An occasional passive construction breaks the pattern and keeps the prose from feeling mechanical.
The key is intentionality. Passive voice that shows up because the writer wasn’t paying attention weakens prose. Passive voice deployed for a specific effect strengthens it. The difference is whether you chose it or defaulted into it.
Active Voice in Revision
Most passive voice in manuscripts isn’t intentional. It accumulates during drafting when the writer is focused on getting ideas down rather than crafting sentences. That’s fine. First drafts aren’t meant to be polished. But revision is where active voice does its work.
My revision process includes a pass specifically for voice and sentence construction. I look for “was” and “were” constructions, “had been” phrases, and any sentence where the subject isn’t doing the action. Not every instance gets changed. But every instance gets evaluated. Is this passive for a reason? Does it serve pacing, clarity, or emotional distance? If yes, it stays. If it’s just habit, it gets rewritten.
This applies to ghostwriting as much as fiction. Client manuscripts go through the same scrutiny. A business book that says “Decisions were made to restructure the department” is weaker than “I restructured the department.” The first avoids responsibility. The second claims it. For a client who wants their book to establish authority, active voice isn’t a stylistic preference. It’s a strategic choice.
The Practical Test
Read your sentences aloud. If you can’t identify who is doing what within the first few words, the sentence is probably passive. If the sentence feels like it’s reporting an event rather than showing one, it’s probably passive. If the sentence uses “by” to identify the actor after the action, it’s definitely passive.
The fix is usually simple. Find the actor. Put them first. Let them do the thing. “The report was written by the team” becomes “The team wrote the report.” “A decision was reached after hours of debate” becomes “After hours of debate, we reached a decision.” The information stays the same. The energy changes completely.
Active voice isn’t about following a rule. It’s about giving your prose the energy, clarity, and directness that keeps readers turning pages. Whether you’re writing a novel or a ghostwritten business book, the principle is the same: let the subject act. The reader will feel the difference even if they can’t name what changed.
For more on prose quality, common writing mistakes, and how to fix them, see the AI-Enhanced Awful Writing Handbook. For comprehensive guidance on fiction craft, visit Master of Worlds.
9 Responses
These post really help me to understand this clearer. I know that this is already taught in school and this is like a review for me to keep me on track about active voice writing.
Great lesson on writing in these different voices. I haven’t been doing a lot of writing lately, and I have lost track of some of the important elements of writing.
I`m happy I found your article because I tend to overuse passive voice in my posts. I`ll save you tips on how to convert passive sentences to active ones.
This is such a good lesson to learn! Thanks.
I’m bookmarking this to keep for the rest of my life. I really struggle with active voice, and that’s a problem when you write blog posts for a living!
The Writing King’s article on active voice writing is incredibly helpful! As someone who’s always looking to improve their writing skills, I found the tips and examples provided in this article to be clear and practical. The explanation of what active voice is and why it’s important in writing was easy to understand, and the examples really drove the point home. I appreciate how the article breaks down the steps to identify and correct passive voice sentences, making it easier for writers to apply this technique in their own work. Overall, it’s a valuable resource for anyone looking to enhance their writing style and clarity.
It’s so important for clarity and power to write in the active voice. I do tend to struggle with it, however. I’m not sure why, but I have a very passive writing style.
This is so helpful. I’ve always had a hard time with active voice. I tend to write in the passive voice.
You’ve spelled this out much clearer than my instructors in college. I have a tendency to write (and speak!) in the passive voice – thanks for all the information.