what tense should a history essay be written in

Writing a Good History Paper

• Top Ten Reasons for Negative Comments
• Making Sure your Paper has Substance

Common Marginal Remarks on Style, Clarity, Grammar, and Syntax

Word and phrase usage problems, analyzing a historical document, writing a book review, writing a term paper or senior thesis, top ten reasons for negative comments on history papers.

(Drawn from a survey of the History Department ) 10. You engage in cheap, anachronistic moralizing .  9. You are sloppy with the chronology .  8. You quote excessively or improperly .  7. You have written a careless “one-draft wonder.” (See revise and proofread)  6. You are vague or have empty, unsupported generalizations .  5. You write too much in the passive voice.  4. You use inappropriate sources .  3. You use evidence uncritically.  2. You are wordy .  1. You have no clear thesis and little analysis.

Making Sure your History Paper has Substance

Get off to a good start..

Avoid pretentious, vapid beginnings. If you are writing a paper on, say, British responses to the rebellion in India in 1857, don't open with a statement like this: “Throughout human history people in all cultures everywhere in the world have engaged in many and long-running conflicts about numerous aspects of government policy and diplomatic issues, which have much interested historians and generated historical theories in many areas.” This is pure garbage, bores the reader, and is a sure sign that you have nothing substantive to say. Get to the point. Here’s a better start: “The rebellion in 1857 compelled the British to rethink their colonial administration in India.” This sentence tells the reader what your paper is actually about and clears the way for you to state your thesis in the rest of the opening paragraph. For example, you might go on to argue that greater British sensitivity to Indian customs was hypocritical.

State a clear thesis.

Whether you are writing an exam essay or a senior thesis, you need to have a thesis. Don’t just repeat the assignment or start writing down everything that you know about the subject. Ask yourself, “What exactly am I trying to prove?” Your thesis is your take on the subject, your perspective, your explanation—that is, the case that you’re going to argue. “Famine struck Ireland in the 1840s” is a true statement, but it is not a thesis. “The English were responsible for famine in Ireland in the 1840s” is a thesis (whether defensible or not is another matter). A good thesis answers an important research question about how or why something happened. (“Who was responsible for the famine in Ireland in the 1840s?”) Once you have laid out your thesis, don’t forget about it. Develop your thesis logically from paragraph to paragraph. Your reader should always know where your argument has come from, where it is now, and where it is going.

Be sure to analyze.

Students are often puzzled when their professors mark them down for summarizing or merely narrating rather than analyzing. What does it mean to analyze? In the narrow sense, to analyze means to break down into parts and to study the interrelationships of those parts. If you analyze water, you break it down into hydrogen and oxygen. In a broader sense, historical analysis explains the origins and significance of events. Historical analysis digs beneath the surface to see relationships or distinctions that are not immediately obvious. Historical analysis is critical; it evaluates sources, assigns significance to causes, and weighs competing explanations. Don’t push the distinction too far, but you might think of summary and analysis this way: Who, what, when, and where are the stuff of summary; how, why, and to what effect are the stuff of analysis. Many students think that they have to give a long summary (to show the professor that they know the facts) before they get to their analysis. Try instead to begin your analysis as soon as possible, sometimes without any summary at all. The facts will “shine through” a good analysis. You can't do an analysis unless you know the facts, but you can summarize the facts without being able to do an analysis. Summary is easier and less sophisticated than analysis—that’s why summary alone never earns an “A.”

Use evidence critically.

Like good detectives, historians are critical of their sources and cross-check them for reliability. You wouldn't think much of a detective who relied solely on a suspect’s archenemy to check an alibi. Likewise, you wouldn't think much of a historian who relied solely on the French to explain the origins of World War I. Consider the following two statements on the origin of World War I: 1) “For the catastrophe of 1914 the Germans are responsible. Only a professional liar would deny this...” 2) “It is not true that Germany is guilty of having caused this war. Neither the people, the government, nor the Kaiser wanted war....”  They can’t both be right, so you have to do some detective work. As always, the best approach is to ask: Who wrote the source? Why? When? Under what circumstances? For whom? The first statement comes from a book by the French politician Georges Clemenceau, which he wrote in 1929 at the very end of his life. In 1871, Clemenceau had vowed revenge against Germany for its defeat of France in the Franco-Prussian War. As premier of France from 1917 to 1920, he represented France at the Paris Peace Conference in 1919. He was obviously not a disinterested observer. The second statement comes from a manifesto published by ninety-three prominent German intellectuals in the fall of 1914. They were defending Germany against charges of aggression and brutality. They too were obviously not disinterested observers. Now, rarely do you encounter such extreme bias and passionate disagreement, but the principle of criticizing and cross-checking sources always applies. In general, the more sources you can use, and the more varied they are, the more likely you are to make a sound historical judgment, especially when passions and self-interests are engaged. You don’t need to be cynical as a historian (self-interest does not explain everything), but you do need to be critical and skeptical. Competent historians may offer different interpretations of the same evidence or choose to stress different evidence. You will not find a single historical Truth with a capital “T” on any matter of significance. You can, however, learn to discriminate among conflicting interpretations, not all of which are created equal. (See also: Analyzing a Historical Document )

Be precise.

Vague statements and empty generalizations suggest that you haven't put in the time to learn the material. Consider these two sentences: “During the French Revolution, the government was overthrown by the people. The Revolution is important because it shows that people need freedom.” What people? Landless peasants? Urban journeymen? Wealthy lawyers? Which government? When? How? Who exactly needed freedom, and what did they mean by freedom? Here is a more precise statement about the French Revolution: “Threatened by rising prices and food shortages in 1793, the Parisian sans-culottes pressured the Convention to institute price controls.” This statement is more limited than the grandiose generalizations about the Revolution, but unlike them, it can open the door to a real analysis of the Revolution. Be careful when you use grand abstractions like people, society, freedom, and government, especially when you further distance yourself from the concrete by using these words as the apparent antecedents for the pronouns they and it. Always pay attention to cause and effect. Abstractions do not cause or need anything; particular people or particular groups of people cause or need things. Avoid grandiose trans-historical generalizations that you can’t support. When in doubt about the appropriate level of precision or detail, err on the side of adding “too much” precision and detail.

Watch the chronology.

Anchor your thesis in a clear chronological framework and don't jump around confusingly. Take care to avoid both anachronisms and vagueness about dates. If you write, “Napoleon abandoned his Grand Army in Russia and caught the redeye back to Paris,” the problem is obvious. If you write, “Despite the Watergate scandal, Nixon easily won reelection in 1972,” the problem is more subtle, but still serious. (The scandal did not become public until after the election.) If you write, “The revolution in China finally succeeded in the twentieth century,” your professor may suspect that you haven’t studied. Which revolution? When in the twentieth century? Remember that chronology is the backbone of history. What would you think of a biographer who wrote that you graduated from Hamilton in the 1950s?

Cite sources carefully.

Your professor may allow parenthetical citations in a short paper with one or two sources, but you should use footnotes for any research paper in history. Parenthetical citations are unaesthetic; they scar the text and break the flow of reading. Worse still, they are simply inadequate to capture the richness of historical sources. Historians take justifiable pride in the immense variety of their sources. Parenthetical citations such as (Jones 1994) may be fine for most of the social sciences and humanities, where the source base is usually limited to recent books and articles in English. Historians, however, need the flexibility of the full footnote. Try to imagine this typical footnote (pulled at random from a classic work of German history) squeezed into parentheses in the body of the text: DZA Potsdam, RdI, Frieden 5, Erzgebiet von Longwy-Briey, Bd. I, Nr. 19305, gedruckte Denkschrift für OHL und Reichsleitung, Dezember 1917, und in RWA, Frieden Frankreich Nr. 1883. The abbreviations are already in this footnote; its information cannot be further reduced. For footnotes and bibliography, historians usually use Chicago style. (The Chicago Manual of Style. 15th edition. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2003.) On the Writing Center’s website you can find a useful summary of Chicago citation style prepared by a former history major, Elizabeth Rabe ’04 ( Footnotes ). RefWorks (on the library’s website) will convert your citations to Chicago style. Don’t hesitate to ask one of the reference librarians for help if you have trouble getting started on RefWorks.

Use primary sources.

Use as many primary sources as possible in your paper. A primary source is one produced by a participant in or witness of the events you are writing about. A primary source allows the historian to see the past through the eyes of direct participants. Some common primary sources are letters, diaries, memoirs, speeches, church records, newspaper articles, and government documents of all kinds. The capacious genre “government records” is probably the single richest trove for the historian and includes everything from criminal court records, to tax lists, to census data, to parliamentary debates, to international treaties—indeed, any records generated by governments. If you’re writing about culture, primary sources may include works of art or literature, as well as philosophical tracts or scientific treatises—anything that comes under the broad rubric of culture. Not all primary sources are written. Buildings, monuments, clothes, home furnishings, photographs, religious relics, musical recordings, or oral reminiscences can all be primary sources if you use them as historical clues. The interests of historians are so broad that virtually anything can be a primary source. (See also: Analyzing a Historical Document )

Use scholarly secondary sources.

A secondary source is one written by a later historian who had no part in what he or she is writing about. (In the rare cases when the historian was a participant in the events, then the work—or at least part of it—is a primary source.) Historians read secondary sources to learn about how scholars have interpreted the past. Just as you must be critical of primary sources, so too you must be critical of secondary sources. You must be especially careful to distinguish between scholarly and non-scholarly secondary sources. Unlike, say, nuclear physics, history attracts many amateurs. Books and articles about war, great individuals, and everyday material life dominate popular history. Some professional historians disparage popular history and may even discourage their colleagues from trying their hand at it. You need not share their snobbishness; some popular history is excellent. But—and this is a big but—as a rule, you should avoid popular works in your research, because they are usually not scholarly. Popular history seeks to inform and entertain a large general audience. In popular history, dramatic storytelling often prevails over analysis, style over substance, simplicity over complexity, and grand generalization over careful qualification. Popular history is usually based largely or exclusively on secondary sources. Strictly speaking, most popular histories might better be called tertiary, not secondary, sources. Scholarly history, in contrast, seeks to discover new knowledge or to reinterpret existing knowledge. Good scholars wish to write clearly and simply, and they may spin a compelling yarn, but they do not shun depth, analysis, complexity, or qualification. Scholarly history draws on as many primary sources as practical. Now, your goal as a student is to come as close as possible to the scholarly ideal, so you need to develop a nose for distinguishing the scholarly from the non-scholarly. Here are a few questions you might ask of your secondary sources (bear in mind that the popular/scholarly distinction is not absolute, and that some scholarly work may be poor scholarship). Who is the author? Most scholarly works are written by professional historians (usually professors) who have advanced training in the area they are writing about. If the author is a journalist or someone with no special historical training, be careful. Who publishes the work? Scholarly books come from university presses and from a handful of commercial presses (for example, Norton, Routledge, Palgrave, Penguin, Rowman & Littlefield, Knopf, and HarperCollins). If it’s an article, where does it appear? Is it in a journal subscribed to by our library, listed on JSTOR , or published by a university press? Is the editorial board staffed by professors? Oddly enough, the word journal in the title is usually a sign that the periodical is scholarly. What do the notes and bibliography look like? If they are thin or nonexistent, be careful. If they are all secondary sources, be careful. If the work is about a non-English-speaking area, and all the sources are in English, then it's almost by definition not scholarly. Can you find reviews of the book in the data base Academic Search Premier? If the book was published within the last few decades, and it’s not in there, that’s a bad sign. With a little practice, you can develop confidence in your judgment—and you’re on your way to being a historian. If you are unsure whether a work qualifies as scholarly, ask your professor. (See also: Writing a Book Review )

Avoid abusing your sources.

Many potentially valuable sources are easy to abuse. Be especially alert for these five abuses: Web abuse. The Web is a wonderful and improving resource for indexes and catalogs. But as a source for primary and secondary material for the historian, the Web is of limited value. Anyone with the right software can post something on the Web without having to get past trained editors, peer reviewers, or librarians. As a result, there is a great deal of garbage on the Web. If you use a primary source from the Web, make sure that a respected intellectual institution stands behind the site. Be especially wary of secondary articles on the Web, unless they appear in electronic versions of established print journals (e.g., The Journal of Asian Studies in JSTOR). Many articles on the Web are little more than third-rate encyclopedia entries. When in doubt, check with your professor. With a few rare exceptions, you will not find scholarly monographs in history (even recent ones) on the Web. You may have heard of Google’s plans to digitize the entire collections of some of the world’s major libraries and to make those collections available on the Web. Don’t hold your breath. Your days at Hamilton will be long over by the time the project is finished. Besides, your training as a historian should give you a healthy skepticism of the giddy claims of technophiles. Most of the time and effort of doing history goes into reading, note-taking, pondering, and writing. Finding a chapter of a book on the Web (as opposed to getting the physical book through interlibrary loan) might be a convenience, but it doesn’t change the basics for the historian. Moreover, there is a subtle, but serious, drawback with digitized old books: They break the historian’s sensual link to the past. And of course, virtually none of the literally trillions of pages of archival material is available on the Web. For the foreseeable future, the library and the archive will remain the natural habitats of the historian. Thesaurus abuse. How tempting it is to ask your computer’s thesaurus to suggest a more erudite-sounding word for the common one that popped into your mind! Resist the temptation. Consider this example (admittedly, a bit heavy-handed, but it drives the point home): You’re writing about the EPA’s programs to clean up impure water supplies. Impure seems too simple and boring a word, so you bring up your thesaurus, which offers you everything from incontinent to meretricious. “How about meretricious water?” you think to yourself. “That will impress the professor.” The problem is that you don’t know exactly what meretricious means, so you don’t realize that meretricious is absurdly inappropriate in this context and makes you look foolish and immature. Use only those words that come to you naturally. Don’t try to write beyond your vocabulary. Don’t try to impress with big words. Use a thesaurus only for those annoying tip-of-the-tongue problems (you know the word and will recognize it instantly when you see it, but at the moment you just can’t think of it).  Quotation book abuse. This is similar to thesaurus abuse. Let’s say you are writing a paper on Alexander Hamilton’s banking policies, and you want to get off to a snappy start that will make you seem effortlessly learned. How about a quotation on money? You click on the index of Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations , and before you know it, you’ve begun your paper with, “As Samuel Butler wrote in Hudibras ,  ‘For what is worth in anything/ But so much money as ’t will bring?’” Face it, you’re faking it. You don’t know who Samuel Butler is, and you’ve certainly never heard of Hudibras , let alone read it. Your professor is not fooled. You sound like an insecure after-dinner speaker. Forget Bartlett’s, unless you're confirming the wording of a quotation that came to you spontaneously and relates to your paper.  Encyclopedia abuse. General encyclopedias like Britannica are useful for checking facts (“Wait a sec, am I right about which countries sent troops to crush the Boxer Rebellion in China? Better check.”). But if you are footnoting encyclopedias in your papers, you are not doing college-level research.

Dictionary Abuse. The dictionary is your friend. Keep it by your side as you write, but do not abuse it by starting papers with a definition. You may be most tempted to start this way when you are writing on a complex, controversial, or elusive subject. (“According to Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary , liberalism is defined as...”). Actually, the dictionary does you little good in such cases and makes you sound like a conscientious but dull high-school student. Save in the rare case that competing dictionary definitions are the subject at hand, keep dictionary quotations out of your paper.

Quote sparingly

Avoid quoting a secondary source and then simply rewording or summarizing the quotation, either above or below the quotation. It is rarely necessary to quote secondary sources at length, unless your essay focuses on a critical analysis of the author’s argument. (See also: Writing a Book Review ) Your professor wants to see your ability to analyze and to understand the secondary sources. Do not quote unless the quotation clarifies or enriches your analysis. When in doubt, do not quote; instead, integrate the author’s argument into your own (though be sure to acknowledge ideas from your sources, even when you are paraphrasing). If you use a lot of quotations from secondary sources, you are probably writing a poor paper. An analysis of a primary source, such as a political tract or philosophical essay, might require lengthy quotations, often in block format. In such cases, you might need to briefly repeat key points or passages as a means to introduce the author’s ideas, but your analysis and interpretation of the text’s meaning should remain the most important aim. (See also: Using primary sources and Use scholarly secondary sources .)

Know your audience

Unless instructed otherwise, you should assume that your audience consists of educated, intelligent, nonspecialists. In fact, your professor will usually be your only reader, but if you write directly to your professor, you may become cryptic or sloppy (oh well, she’ll know what I’m talking about). Explaining your ideas to someone who doesn't know what you mean forces you to be clear and complete. Now, finding the right amount of detail can, admittedly, be tricky (how much do I put in about the Edict of Nantes, the Embargo Act, or President Wilson’s background?). When in doubt, err on the side of putting in extra details. You’ll get some leeway here if you avoid the extremes (my reader’s an ignoramus/my reader knows everything).

Avoid cheap, anachronistic moralizing

Many of the people and institutions of the past appear unenlightened, ignorant, misguided, or bigoted by today’s values. Resist the temptation to condemn or to get self-righteous. (“Martin Luther was blind to the sexism and class prejudice of sixteenth-century German society.”) Like you, people in the past were creatures of their time; like you, they deserve to be judged by the standards of their time. If you judge the past by today’s standards (an error historians call “presentism”), you will never understand why people thought or acted as they did. Yes, Hitler was a bad guy, but he was bad not only by today’s standards, but also by the commonly accepted standards of his own time. Someday you’re going to look pretty foolish and ignorant yourself. (“Early twenty-first century Hamilton students failed to see the shocking inderdosherism [that’s right, you don’t recognize the concept because it doesn’t yet exist] implicit in their career plans.”)

Have a strong conclusion

Obviously, you should not just stop abruptly as though you have run out of time or ideas. Your conclusion should conclude something. If you merely restate briefly what you have said in your paper, you give the impression that you are unsure of the significance of what you have written. A weak conclusion leaves the reader unsatisfied and bewildered, wondering why your paper was worth reading. A strong conclusion adds something to what you said in your introduction. A strong conclusion explains the importance and significance of what you have written. A strong conclusion leaves your reader caring about what you have said and pondering the larger implications of your thesis. Don’t leave your reader asking, “So what?”

Revise and proofread

Your professor can spot a “one-draft wonder,” so don't try to do your paper at the last moment. Leave plenty of time for revising and proofreading. Show your draft to a writing tutor or other good writer. Reading the draft aloud may also help. Of course, everyone makes mistakes, and a few may slip through no matter how meticulous you are. But beware of lots of mistakes. The failure to proofread carefully suggests that you devoted little time and effort to the assignment. Tip: Proofread your text both on the screen and on a printed copy. Your eyes see the two differently. Don’t rely on your spell checker to catch all of your misspellings. (If ewe ken reed this ewe kin sea that a computer wood nut all ways help ewe spill or rite reel good.)

Note: The Writing Center suggests standard abbreviations for noting some of these problems. You should familiarize yourself with those abbreviations, but your professor may not use them.  

Remarks on Style and Clarity

Wordy/verbose/repetitive..

Try your hand at fixing this sentence: “Due to the fact that these aspects of the issue of personal survival have been raised by recently transpired problematic conflicts, it is at the present time paramount that the ultimate psychological end of suicide be contemplated by this individual.” If you get it down to “To be or not to be, that is the question,” you’ve done well. You may not match Shakespeare, but you can learn to cut the fat out of your prose. The chances are that the five pages you’ve written for your history paper do not really contain five pages’ worth of ideas.

Misuse of the passive voice.

Write in the active voice. The passive voice encourages vagueness and dullness; it enfeebles verbs; and it conceals agency, which is the very stuff of history. You know all of this almost instinctively. What would you think of a lover who sighed in your ear, “My darling, you are loved by me!”? At its worst, the passive voice—like its kin, bureaucratic language and jargon—is a medium for the dishonesty and evasion of responsibility that pervade contemporary American culture. (“Mistakes were made; I was given false information.” Now notice the difference: “I screwed up; Smith and Jones lied to me; I neglected to check the facts.”) On history papers the passive voice usually signals a less toxic version of the same unwillingness to take charge, to commit yourself, and to say forthrightly what is really going on, and who is doing what to whom. Suppose you write, “In 1935 Ethiopia was invaded.” This sentence is a disaster. Who invaded? Your professor will assume that you don't know. Adding “by Italy” to the end of the sentence helps a bit, but the sentence is still flat and misleading. Italy was an aggressive actor, and your passive construction conceals that salient fact by putting the actor in the syntactically weakest position—at the end of the sentence as the object of a preposition. Notice how you add vigor and clarity to the sentence when you recast it in the active voice: "In 1935 Italy invaded Ethiopia." I n a few cases , you may violate the no-passive-voice rule. The passive voice may be preferable if the agent is either obvious (“Kennedy was elected in 1960”), irrelevant (“Theodore Roosevelt became president when McKinley was assassinated”), or unknown (“King Harold was killed at the Battle of Hastings”). Note that in all three of these sample sentences the passive voice focuses the reader on the receiver of the action rather than on the doer (on Kennedy, not on American voters; on McKinley, not on his assassin; on King Harold, not on the unknown Norman archer). Historians usually wish to focus on the doer, so you should stay with the active voice—unless you can make a compelling case for an exception.

Abuse of the verb to be.

The verb to be is the most common and most important verb in English, but too many verbs to be suck the life out of your prose and lead to wordiness. Enliven your prose with as many action verbs as possible. ( “In Brown v. Board of Education it was the opinion of the Supreme Court that the doctrine of ‘separate but equal’ was in violation of the Fourteenth Amendment.”) Rewrite as “ In Brown v. Board of Education the Supreme Court ruled that the doctrine of ‘separate but equal’ violated the Fourteenth ”

Explain/what’s your point?/unclear/huh?

You may (or may not) know what you’re talking about, but if you see these marginal comments, you have confused your reader. You may have introduced a non sequitur ; gotten off the subject; drifted into abstraction; assumed something that you have not told the reader; failed to explain how the material relates to your argument; garbled your syntax; or simply failed to proofread carefully.  If possible, have a good writer read your paper and point out the muddled parts. Reading your paper aloud may help too.

Paragraph goes nowhere/has no point or unity.

Paragraphs are the building blocks of your paper. If your paragraphs are weak, your paper cannot be strong. Try underlining the topic sentence of every paragraph. If your topic sentences are vague, strength and precision—the hallmarks of good writing—are unlikely to follow. Consider this topic sentence (from a paper on Ivan the Terrible): “From 1538 to 1547, there are many different arguments about the nature of what happened.”  Disaster looms. The reader has no way of knowing when the arguing takes place, who’s arguing, or even what the arguing is about. And how does the “nature of what happened” differ from plain “what happened”? Perhaps the writer means the following: “The childhood of Ivan the Terrible has provoked controversy among scholars of Russian history.” That's hardly deathless prose, but it does orient the reader and make the writer accountable for what follows in the paragraph. Once you have a good topic sentence, make sure that everything in the paragraph supports that sentence, and that cumulatively the support is persuasive. Make sure that each sentence follows logically from the previous one, adding detail in a coherent order. Move, delete, or add material as appropriate. To avoid confusing the reader, limit each paragraph to one central idea. (If you have a series of supporting points starting with first, you must follow with a second, third , etc.) A paragraph that runs more than a printed page is probably too long. Err on the side of shorter paragraphs.

Inappropriate use of first person.

Most historians write in the third person, which focuses the reader on the subject. If you write in the first person singular, you shift the focus to yourself. You give the impression that you want to break in and say, “Enough about the Haitian revolution [or whatever], now let’s talk about me!” Also avoid the first person plural (“We believe...”). It suggests committees, editorial boards, or royalty. None of those should have had a hand in writing your paper. And don’t refer to yourself lamely as “this writer.” Who else could possibly be writing the paper?

Tense inconsistency.

Stay consistently in the past tense when you are writing about what took place in the past. (“Truman’s defeat of Dewey in 1948 caught the pollsters by surprise.”) Note that the context may require a shift into the past perfect. (“The pollsters had not realized [past perfect] that voter opinion had been [past perfect] changing rapidly in the days before the election.”) Unfortunately, the tense problem can get a bit more complicated. Most historians shift into the present tense when describing or commenting on a book, document, or evidence that still exists and is in front of them (or in their mind) as they write.  (“de Beauvoir published [past tense] The Second Sex in 1949. In the book she contends [present tense] that woman....”) If you’re confused, think of it this way: History is about the past, so historians write in the past tense, unless they are discussing effects of the past that still exist and thus are in the present. When in doubt, use the past tense and stay consistent.

Ill-fitted quotation.

This is a common problem, though not noted in stylebooks. When you quote someone, make sure that the quotation fits grammatically into your sentence.  Note carefully the mismatch between the start of the following sentence and the quotation that follows:  “In order to understand the Vikings, writes Marc Bloch, it is necessary, ‘To conceive of the Viking expeditions as religious warfare inspired by the ardour of an implacable pagan fanaticism—an explanation that has sometimes been at least suggested—conflicts too much with what we know of minds disposed to respect magic of every kind.’” At first, the transition into the quotation from Bloch seems fine. The infinitive (to conceive) fits. But then the reader comes to the verb (conflicts) in Bloch’s sentence, and things no longer make sense. The writer is saying, in effect, “it is necessary conflicts.” The wordy lead-in and the complex syntax of the quotation have tripped the writer and confused the reader. If you wish to use the whole sentence, rewrite as “Marc Bloch writes in Feudal Society , ‘To conceive of...’” Better yet, use your own words or only part of the quotation in your sentence. Remember that good writers quote infrequently, but when they do need to quote, they use carefully phrased lead-ins that fit the grammatical construction of the quotation.

Free-floating quotation.

Do not suddenly drop quotations into your prose. (“The spirit of the Progressive era is best understood if one remembers that the United States is ‘the only country in the world that began with perfection and aspired to progress.’”) You have probably chosen the quotation because it is finely wrought and says exactly what you want to say. Fine, but first you inconvenience the reader, who must go to the footnote to learn that the quotation comes from The Age of Reform by historian Richard Hofstadter. And then you puzzle the reader. Did Hofstadter write the line about perfection and progress, or is he quoting someone from the Progressive era? If, as you claim, you are going to help the reader to judge the “spirit of the Progressive era,” you need to clarify. Rewrite as “As historian Richard Hofstadter writes in the Age of Reform , the United States is ‘the only country in the world...’” Now the reader knows immediately that the line is Hofstadter’s.

Who’s speaking here?/your view?

Always be clear about whether you’re giving your opinion or that of the author or historical actor you are discussing. Let’s say that your essay is about Martin Luther’s social views. You write, “The German peasants who revolted in 1525 were brutes and deserved to be crushed mercilessly.” That’s what Luther thought, but do you agree?  You may know, but your reader is not a mind reader. When in doubt, err on the side of being overly clear.

Jargon/pretentious theory.

Historians value plain English. Academic jargon and pretentious theory will make your prose turgid, ridiculous, and downright irritating. Your professor will suspect that you are trying to conceal that you have little to say. Of course, historians can’t get along without some theory; even those who profess to have no theory actually do—it’s called naïve realism. And sometimes you need a technical term, be it ontological argument or ecological fallacy. When you use theory or technical terms, make sure that they are intelligible and do real intellectual lifting.  Please, no sentences like this: “By means of a neo-Althusserian, post-feminist hermeneutics, this essay will de/construct the logo/phallo/centrism imbricated in the marginalizing post-colonial gendered gaze, thereby proliferating the subjectivities that will re/present the de/stabilization of the essentializing habitus of post-Fordist capitalism.”

Informal language/slang.

You don’t need to be stuffy, but stay with formal English prose of the kind that will still be comprehensible to future generations. Columbus did not “push the envelope in the Atlantic.” Henry VIII was not “looking for his inner child when he broke with the Church.” Prime Minister Cavour of Piedmont was not “trying to play in the major leagues diplomatic wise.” Wilson did not “almost veg out” at the end of his second term. President Hindenburg did not appoint Hitler in a “senior moment.” Prime Minister Chamberlain did not tell the Czechs to “chill out” after the Munich Conference, and Gandhi was not an “awesome dude.”

Try to keep your prose fresh. Avoid cliches. When you proofread, watch out for sentences like these: “Voltaire always gave 110 percent and thought outside the box. His bottom line was that as people went forward into the future, they would, at the end of the day, step up to the plate and realize that the Jesuits were conniving perverts.” Ugh. Rewrite as “Voltaire tried to persuade people that the Jesuits were cony, step up to the plate and realize that the Jesuits were conniving perverts.” Ugh. Rewrite as “Voltaire tried to persuade people that the Jesuits were conniving perverts.”

Intensifier abuse/exaggeration.

Avoid inflating your prose with unsustainable claims of size, importance, uniqueness, certainty, or intensity. Such claims mark you as an inexperienced writer trying to impress the reader. Your statement is probably not certain ; your subject probably not unique , the biggest, the best, or the most important. Also, the adverb very will rarely strengthen your sentence. Strike it. (“President Truman was very determined to stop the spread of communism in Greece.”) Rewrite as “President Truman resolved to stop the spread of communism in Greece.”

Mixed image.

Once you have chosen an image, you must stay with language compatible with that image. In the following example, note that the chain, the boiling, and the igniting are all incompatible with the image of the cold, rolling, enlarging snowball: “A snowballing chain of events boiled over, igniting the powder keg of war in 1914.” Well chosen images can enliven your prose, but if you catch yourself mixing images a lot, you're probably trying to write beyond your ability. Pull back. Be more literal.

Clumsy transition.

If your reader feels a jolt or gets disoriented at the beginning of a new paragraph, your paper probably lacks unity. In a good paper, each paragraph is woven seamlessly into the next. If you find yourself beginning your paragraphs with phrases such as “Another aspect of this problem...,” then you are probably “stacking note cards” rather than developing a thesis.

Unnecessary relative clause.

If you don’t need to restrict the meaning of your sentence’s subject, then don’t. (“Napoleon was a man who tried to conquer Europe.”) Here the relative clause adds nothing. Rewrite as “Napoleon tried to conquer Europe.” Unnecessary relative clauses are a classic form of wordiness.

Distancing or demeaning quotation marks.

If you believe that a frequently used word or phrase distorts historical reality, don’t put it in dismissive, sneering quotation marks to make your point (“the communist ‘threat’ to the ‘free’ world during the Cold War”). Many readers find this practice arrogant, obnoxious, and precious, and they may dismiss your arguments out of hand. If you believe that the communist threat was bogus or exaggerated, or that the free world was not really free, then simply explain what you mean.

Remarks on Grammar and Syntax

Ideally, your professor will help you to improve your writing by specifying exactly what is wrong with a particular passage, but  sometimes you may find a simple awk in the margin. This all-purpose negative comment usually suggests that the sentence is clumsy because you have misused words or compounded several errors. Consider this sentence from a book review:

“However, many falsehoods lie in Goldhagen’s claims and these will be explored.”

What is your long-suffering professor to do with this sentence? The however contributes nothing; the phrase falsehoods lie is an unintended pun that distracts the reader; the comma is missing between the independent clauses; the these has no clear antecedent ( falsehoods? claims? ); the second clause is in the passive voice and contributes nothing anyway; the whole sentence is wordy and screams hasty, last-minute composition. In weary frustration, your professor scrawls awk in the margin and moves on. Buried under the twelve-word sentence lies a three-word idea: “Goldhagen often errs.” When you see awk, check for the common errors in this list. If you don’t understand what’s wrong, ask.

Unclear antecedent.

All pronouns must refer clearly to antecedents and must agree with them in number. The reader usually assumes that the antecedent is the immediately preceding noun. Do not confuse the reader by having several possible antecedents. Consider these two sentences:

“Pope Gregory VII forced Emperor Henry IV to wait three days in the snow at Canossa before granting him an audience. It was a symbolic act.”

To what does the it refer? Forcing the Emperor to wait? The waiting itself? The granting of the audience? The audience itself? The whole previous sentence? You are most likely to get into antecedent trouble when you begin a paragraph with this or it , referring vaguely back to the general import of the previous paragraph. When in doubt, take this test: Circle the pronoun and the antecedent and connect the two with a line. Then ask yourself if your reader could instantly make the same diagram without your help. If the line is long, or if the circle around the antecedent is large, encompassing huge gobs of text, then your reader probably will be confused.  Rewrite. Repetition is better than ambiguity and confusion.

Faulty parallelism.

You confuse your reader if you change the grammatical construction from one element to the next in a series. Consider this sentence:

“King Frederick the Great sought to expand Prussia, to rationalize agriculture, and that the state support education.”

The reader expects another infinitive, but instead trips over the that . Rewrite the last clause as “and to promote state-supported education.” Sentences using neither/nor frequently present parallelism problems. Note the two parts of this sentence:

“After 1870 the cavalry charge was neither an effective tactic, nor did armies use it frequently.”

The sentence jars because the neither is followed by a noun, the nor by a verb. Keep the parts parallel.

Rewrite as “After 1870 the cavalry charge was neither effective nor frequently used.”

Sentences with not only/but also are another pitfall for many students. (“Mussolini attacked not only liberalism, but he also advocated militarism.”) Here the reader is set up to expect a noun in the second clause, but stumbles over a verb. Make the parts parallel by putting the verb attacked after the not only .

Misplaced modifier/dangling element.

Do not confuse the reader with a phrase or clause that refers illogically or absurdly to other words in the sentence. (“Summarized on the back cover of the American paperback edition, the publishers claim that...”) The publishers are not summarized on the back cover. (“Upon finishing the book, many questions remain.”) Who finished the book? Questions can’t read. Avoid following an introductory participial clause with the expletives it or there . Expletives are by definition filler words; they can’t be agents. (“Having examined the origins of the Meiji Restoration in Japan, it is apparent that...”) Apparent to whom?  The expletive it didn’t do the examining. (“After going on the Long March, there was greater support for the Communists in China.”) Who went on the Long March? There didn’t go on the Long March. Always pay attention to who’s doing what in your sentences.

Run-on sentence.

Run-on sentences string together improperly joined independent clauses. Consider these three sentences:

“Galileo recanted his teaching that the earth moved privately he maintained his convictions.” “Galileo recanted his teaching that the earth moved, privately he maintained his convictions.” “Galileo recanted his teaching that the earth moved, however, privately he maintained his convictions.”

The first fuses two independent clauses with neither a comma nor a coordinating conjunction; the second uses a comma but omits the coordinating conjunction; and the third also omits the coordinating conjunction (however is not a coordinating conjunction). To solve the problem, separate the two clauses with a comma and the coordinating conjunction but. You could also divide the clauses with a semicolon or make separate sentences. Remember that there are only seven coordinating conjunctions ( and, but, or, nor, for, so, yet ).

Sentence fragment.

Write in sentences. A sentence has to have a subject and a predicate. If you string together a lot of words, you may lose control of the syntax and end up with a sentence fragment. Note that the following is not a sentence:

“While in Western Europe railroad building proceeded rapidly in the nineteenth century, and in Russia there was less progress.”

Here you have a long compound introductory clause followed by no subject and no verb, and thus you have a fragment. You may have noticed exceptions to the no-fragments rule. Skilful writers do sometimes intentionally use a fragment to achieve a certain effect. Leave the rule-breaking to the experts.

Confusion of restrictive and nonrestrictive clauses.

Consider these two versions of the same sentence:

1. “World War I, which raged from 1914-1918, killed millions of Europeans.” 2. “World War I that raged from 1914-1918 killed millions of Europeans.”

The first sentence has a nonrestrictive relative clause; the dates are included almost as parenthetical information. But something seems amiss with the second sentence. It has a restrictive relative clause that limits the subject (World War I) to the World War I fought between 1914 and 1918, thus implying that there were other wars called World War I, and that we need to distinguish among them. Both sentences are grammatically correct, but the writer of the second sentence appears foolish.  Note carefully the distinction between that (for use in restrictive clauses, with no comma) and which (for use in nonrestrictive clauses, with a comma).

Confusion about who’s doing what.

Remember—history is about what people do, so you need to be vigilant about agency. Proofread your sentences carefully, asking yourself, “Have I said exactly who is doing or thinking what, or have I inadvertently attributed an action or belief to the wrong person or group?” Unfortunately, there are many ways to go wrong here, but faulty punctuation is among the most common. Here’s a sentence about Frantz Fanon, the great critic of European imperialism. Focus on the punctuation and its effect on agency: “Instead of a hierarchy based on class, Fanon suggests the imperialists establish a hierarchy based on race.” As punctuated, the sentence says something absurd: that Fanon is advising the imperialists about the proper kind of hierarchy to establish in the colonies. Surely, the writer meant to say that, in his analysis of imperialism, Fanon distinguishes between two kinds of hierarchy. A comma after suggests fixes the immediate problem. Now look at the revised sentence. It still needs work. Better diction and syntax would sharpen it.  Fanon does not suggest (with connotations of both hinting and advocating); he states outright. What’s more, the comparison of the two kinds of hierarchy gets blurred by too many intervening words. The key point of the sentence is, in effect, “instead of A, we have B.” Clarity demands that B follow A as closely as possible, and that the two elements be grammatically parallel. But between the elements A and B, the writer inserts Fanon (a proper noun), suggests (a verb), imperialists (a noun), and establish (a verb). Try the sentence this way: “Fanon says that the imperialists establish a hierarchy based on race rather than class.” Now the agency is clear: We know what Fanon does, and we know what the imperialists do. Notice that errors and infelicities have a way of clustering. If you find one problem in a sentence, look for others.

Confusion about the objects of prepositions.

Here’s another one of those common problems that does not receive the attention it merits. Discipline your prepositional phrases; make sure you know where they end. Notice the mess in this sentence: “Hitler accused Jewish people of engaging in incest and stating that Vienna was the ‘personification of incest.’” The reader thinks that both engaging and stating are objects of the preposition of. Yet the writer intends only the first to be the object of the preposition. Hitler is accusing the Jews of engaging , but not of stating ; he is the one doing the stating . Rewrite as “Hitler accused the Jews of incest; he stated that Vienna was the ‘personification of incest.’” Note that the wordiness of the original encouraged the syntactical mess. Simplify. It can’t be said too many times: Always pay attention to who’s doing what in your sentences.

Misuse of the comparative.

There are two common problems here. The first might be called the “floating comparative.” You use the comparative, but you don’t say what you are comparing. (“Lincoln was more upset by the dissolution of the union.”) More upset than by what? More upset than who? The other problem, which is more common and takes many forms, is the unintended (and sometimes comical) comparison of unlike elements. Consider these attempts to compare President Clinton to President George H. W. Bush. Often the trouble starts with a possessive:

“President Clinton’s sexual appetite was more voracious than President Bush.”

You mean to compare appetites, but you've forgotten about your possessive, so you absurdly compare an appetite to a man. Rewrite as “more voracious than President Bush’s.” A variation of this problem is the unintended comparison resulting from the omission of a verb:

“President Clinton liked women more than President Bush.”

Re-write as “more than did President Bush.”

A misplaced modifier may also cause comparison trouble: “Unlike the Bush administration, sexual scandal nearly destroyed the Clinton administration.” Rewrite as  “Unlike the Bush administration, the Clinton administration was nearly destroyed by sexual scandal.” Here the passive voice is better than the misplaced modifier, but you could rewrite as “The Bush administration had been free of sexual scandal, which nearly destroyed the Clinton administration.”

Misuse of apostrophe.

Get control of your apostrophes. Use the apostrophe to form singular or plural possessives (Washington’s soldiers; the colonies’ soldiers) or to form contractions (don’t; it’s). Do not use the apostrophe to form plurals. (“The communists [not communists’] defeated the nationalists [not nationalists’] in China.”)

Comma after although.

This is a new error, probably a carryover from the common conversational habit of pausing dramatically after although . ( “Although , coffee consumption rose in eighteenth-century Europe, tea remained far more popular.”) Delete the comma after although . Remember that although is not a synonym for the word however , so you cannot solve the problem in the sentence by putting a period after Europe . A clause beginning with although cannot stand alone as a sentence.

Comma between subject and verb.

This is a strange new error. (“Hitler and Stalin, agreed to a pact in August 1939.”) Delete the comma after Stalin. Finally, two hints: If your word-processing program underlines something and suggests changes, be careful. When it comes to grammar and syntax, your computer is a moron. Not only does it fail to recognize some gross errors, it also falsely identifies some correct passages as errors. Do not cede control of your writing decisions to your computer. Make the suggested changes only if you are positive that they are correct. If you are having trouble with your writing, try simplifying. Write short sentences and read them aloud to test for clarity. Start with the subject and follow it quickly with an active verb. Limit the number of relative clauses, participial phrases, adjectives, adverbs, and prepositional phrases. You will win no prizes for eloquence, but at least you will be clear. Add complexity only when you have learned to handle it.

An historical/an historian.

The consonant “H” is not silent in historical and historian , so the proper form of the indefinite article is “A.”

Avoid the common solecism of using feel as a synonym for think, believe, say, state, assert, contend, argue, conclude, or write. (“Marx felt that the bourgeoisie exploited the proletariat.” “Emmeline Pankhurst felt that British women should be able to vote.”) The use of feel in these sentences demeans the agents by suggesting undisciplined sentiment rather than carefully formulated conviction. Concentrate on what your historical actors said and did; leave their feelings to speculative chapters of their biographies. As for your own feelings, keep them out of your papers. (“I feel that Lincoln should have freed the slaves earlier.”) Your professor will be delighted that the material engages both your head and your heart, but your feelings cannot be graded. If you believe that Lincoln should have acted earlier, then explain, giving cogent historical reasons.

The fact that.

This is a clumsy, unnecessary construction. ( “The fact that Nixon resigned in disgrace damaged the Republican Party.”) Re-word as “Nixon resigned in disgrace, damaging the Republican Party.” Never use the hideous phrase due to the fact that.

In terms of.

This phrase is filler. Get rid of it. (“Bismarck was a success in terms of uniting Germany.) Rewrite as “Bismarck successfully united Germany.”

Attend carefully to the placement of this limiting word. Note, for example, these three sentences:

“The government only interred Japanese Americans during World War II.” “The government interred only Japanese Americans during World War II.” “The government interred Japanese Americans only during World War II.”

The first limits the action to interring (as opposed to, say, killing); the second limits the group interred (i.e., not Italian Americans); the third limits the time of interring (i.e., not during other wars).

Thus and therefore.

More than likely, you have not earned these words and are implying that you have said more than you actually have. Use them sparingly, only when you are concluding a substantial argument with a significant conclusion.

Misuse of instead.

Instead is an adverb, not a conjunction. Consider this sentence: “Charles Beard argued that the framers of the constitution were not idealists, instead they promoted their economic interests.” Revise as “The framers of the constitution, Charles Beard argued, did not uphold ideals; instead , they promoted their economic interests.” Now the instead appears properly as an adverb. (Note also that the two clauses are now parallel—both contain transitive verbs.)

Essentially and basically.

These are usually either filler words (the written equivalent of “uh” or “um”) or weasel words that merely call attention to your vagueness, lack of conviction, or lazy unwillingness to qualify precisely. (“ Essentially , Churchill believed that Nazi Germany presented a grave danger to Britain.”) Delete essentially and basically unless you are writing about essences or bases.

Both share or both agree.

These are redundant. If two people share or agree , they are both involved by definition. (“Stalin and Mao both agreed that capitalism belonged in the dustbin of history.”) Delete both .

This word means one of a kind. It is an absolute. Something cannot be very unique, more unique, or somewhat unique.

Incredible.

In casual conversation incredible often means extraordinary, astonishing, or impressive (“Yesterday’s storm was incredible.”). To avoid confusion in historical prose, you should stick with the original meaning of incredible : not believable. If you write that “William Jennings Bryan gave incredible speeches,” you’re saying that you don’t believe his speeches, or that his audiences didn’t believe them at the time—in other words, that he appeared to be lying or mistaken. You probably mean that he gave great speeches. If you write that “It’s incredible that Japan attacked Pearl Harbor,” you’re calling into question the very existence of a historical event. You probably mean that the Japanese attack was unwise or reckless. English is rich with adjectives. Finding the best one forces you to think about what you really mean.

As a synonym for subject matter, bone of contention, reservation, or almost anything else vaguely associated with what you are discussing, the word issue has lost its meaning through overuse. (“There were many issues involved with Truman’s decision to use the atomic bomb, and some historians have issues with his decision.”) Stop talking about issues and get to the point.

Beware of the word literally . It’s commonly misused, and you almost never need it in historical prose. Literally means actually, factually, exactly, directly, without metaphor. The careful writer would never say, “Roosevelt literally swamped Landon in the election of 1936.” One imagines Roosevelt (in his wheelchair no less!) dumping the hapless Landon off a pier in the Everglades on election night. The swamping was figurative, strictly a figure of speech. The adverb literally may also cause you trouble by falsely generalizing the coverage of your verb. “London was literally destroyed by the blitz.” This suggests that the whole city was destroyed, when, in fact, only parts were destroyed. Rewrite as “The blitz destroyed parts of London.” Now you’ve qualified properly (and gotten rid of the passive).

When you’re tempted to use this word, resist. Like issue , involve tells the reader too little. (“Erasmus was involved in the Renaissance.”) This statement could mean virtually anything. Delete it and discuss specifically what Erasmus said or did.

This is a fine old word with many precise meanings, but as an overused synonym for feature, side, or part, it is usually a sign of insipid prose (“Another aspect of the issues in this area is the fact that...”). Just get directly to the point.

Most good writers frown on the use of this word as a verb.(“Eisenhower’s military background impacted his foreign policy.”) Affected, influenced, or shaped would be better here. Impacted suggests painfully blocked wisdom teeth or feces. Had an impact is better than impacted , but is still awkward because impact implies a collision.

Here is another beloved but vapid word. (“Many factors led to the Reformation.”) Such a sentence usually opens a vague, boring, weaseling paragraph. If you believe (quite reasonably) that the Reformation had many causes, then start evaluating them.

Meaningful.

Overuse has drained the meaning from meaningful . (“Peter the Great took meaningful steps to westernize Russia.”) Just get to the point.

Interesting.

The adjective interesting is vague, overused, and does not earn its keep. (“Burckhardt had an interesting perspective on the Renaissance.”) This sentence is filler. Delete it and explain and analyze his perspective.

The events that transpired.

Your professor will gag on this one. Events take place or happen by definition, so the relative clause is redundant. Furthermore, most good writers do not accept transpire as a synonym for happen. Again, follow the old rule of thumb: Get right to the point, say what happened, and explain its significance. You don’t need any filler about events and transpiring .

The reason is because.

This phrase is awkward and redundant. Replace it with the reason is, or better still, simply delete it and get right to your reason.

For all intensive purposes.

The phrase is for all intents and purposes , and few good writers use it in formal prose anyway.

Take for granite.

This is an illiteracy. The phrase is “ take for granted .”

Should of/could of.

You mean should have or could have .

Center around.

Good writers frown on this phrase because it’s illogical and jarring. Use center on or center in. Attention to a small detail like this indicates that you’re thinking carefully about what you’re saying, so when the big problems confront you, you’ll be disciplined and ready.

Begs the question.

Recently, many people have started to use this phrase to mean raises, invites, or brings up the question. (“Stalin’s purges beg the question of whether he was paranoid.”) Actually, begging the question is the common logical fallacy of assuming your conclusion as part of your argument. (“In the late nineteenth century, many Americans moved to the cities because of urbanization.”) Note that the use of abstractions (e.g., urbanization) encourages begging the question . Understanding this fallacy is central to your education. The formal Latin term, petitio principii, is too fancy to catch on, so you need to preserve the simple English phrase. If something raises a question, just say so.

Historic/historical confusion.

Everything in the past or relating to the past is historical. Resist the media-driven hype that elevates the ordinary to the historic . (“A three-alarm fire last night destroyed the historic site of the first Portuguese-owned dry cleaners in Cleveland.”) Reserve the word historic for the genuinely important events, persons, or objects of the past. The Norman invasion of England in 1066 was indeed historic . Historically , historians have gathered annually for a historical convention; so far, none of the conventions has been historic .

Affect/effect confusion.

The chances are that the verb you want is affect , which means to have an influence on (“The Iranian hostage crisis affected [not effected] the presidential election of 1980”). Effect as a verb means to bring about or cause to exist ( effect change). Effect as a noun means result or consequence (“The effect of the Iranian hostage crisis on the election...”).

While/whereas confusion.

If you’re stressing contrast, the word you want is whereas . While stresses simultaneity. “Hobbes had a dismal view of human nature, whereas [not while] Rousseau believed that man had a natural sense of pity.”

It’s/its confusion.

This is the classic bonehead error. Note that the spell checker won’t help you. And remember— its’ is not a word at all.

Reign/rein confusion.

A queen reigns during her reign. You rein in a horse with reins.

Their/there/they’re confusion.

You do know the difference. Pay attention.

Everyday/every day confusion.

As an adjective, everyday (one word) means routine. If you wish to say that something happened on every successive day, then you need two words, the adjective every and the noun day . Note the difference in these two sentences: “Kant was famous for going on the same constitutional at the same time every day . For Kant, exercise and thinking were everyday activities.”

Refer/allude confusion.

To allude means to refer to indirectly or to hint at. The word you probably want in historical prose is refer , which means to mention or call direct attention to. “In the first sentence of the ‘Gettysburg Address’ Lincoln refers [not alludes ] to the fathers of the nation [he mentions them directly]; he alludes to the ‘Declaration of Independence’ [the document of four score and seven years earlier that comes to the reader’s mind, but that Lincoln doesn’t directly mention].”

Novel/book confusion.

Novel is not a synonym for book. A novel is a long work of fiction in prose. A historical monograph is not a novel —unless the historian is making everything up.

Than/then confusion.

This is an appalling new error. If you are making a comparison, you use the conjunction than . (“President Kennedy’s health was worse than [not then ] the public realized.”)

Lead/led confusion.

The past tense of the verb to lead is led (not lead ). “Sherman led [not lead ] a march to the sea.”

Lose/loose confusion.

The opposite of win is lose , not loose . “Supporters of the Equal Rights Amendment suspected that they would lose [not loose ] the battle to amend the constitution.”

However/but confusion.

However may not substitute for the coordinating conjunction but. (“Mussolini began his career as a socialist, but [not however ] he later abandoned socialism for fascism.”) The word however has many proper uses; however , [note the semicolon and comma] graceful writers use it sparingly.

Cite/site/sight confusion.

You cited a source for your paper; ancient Britons sited Stonehenge on a plain; Columbus’s lookout sighted land.

Conscience/conscious confusion.

When you wake up in the morning you are conscious , though your conscience may bother you if you’ve neglected to write your history paper.

Tenet/tenant confusion.

Your religion, ideology, or worldview all have tenets —propositions you hold or believe in. Tenants rent from landlords.

All are not/not all are confusion.

If you write, “ All the colonists did not want to break with Britain in 1776,” the chances are you really mean, “ Not all the colonists wanted to break with Britain in 1776.” The first sentence is a clumsy way of saying that no colonists wanted to break with Britain (and is clearly false). The second sentence says that some colonists did not want to break with Britain (and is clearly true, though you should go on to be more precise).

Nineteenth-century/nineteenth century confusion.

Historians talk a lot about centuries, so you need to know when to hyphenate them. Follow the standard rule: If you combine two words to form a compound adjective, use a hyphen, unless the first word ends in ly. (“ Nineteenth-century [hyphenated] steamships cut the travel time across the Atlantic.”) Leave out the hyphen if you’re just using the ordinal number to modify the noun century. (“In the nineteenth century [no hyphen] steamships cut the travel time across the Atlantic.”) By the way, while you have centuries in mind, don’t forget that the nineteenth century is the 1800s, not the 1900s. The same rule for hyphenating applies to middle-class and middle class —a group that historians like to talk about.

Bourgeois/bourgeoisie confusion.

Bourgeois is usually an adjective, meaning characteristic of the middle class and its values or habits. Occasionally, bourgeois is a noun, meaning a single member of the middle class. Bourgeoisie is a noun, meaning the middle class collectively. (“Marx believed that the bourgeoisie oppressed the proletariat; he argued that bourgeois values like freedom and individualism were hypocritical.”)

Your professor may ask you to analyze a primary document. Here are some questions you might ask of your document. You will note a common theme—read critically with sensitivity to the context. This list is not a suggested outline for a paper; the wording of the assignment and the nature of the document itself should determine your organization and which of the questions are most relevant. Of course, you can ask these same questions of any document you encounter in your research.

• What exactly is the document (e.g., diary, king’s decree, opera score, bureaucratic memorandum, parliamentary minutes, newspaper article, peace treaty)?
• Are you dealing with the original or with a copy? If it is a copy, how remote is it from the original (e.g., photocopy of the original, reformatted version in a book, translation)? How might deviations from the original affect your interpretation?
• What is the date of the document?
• Is there any reason to believe that the document is not genuine or not exactly what it appears to be?
• Who is the author, and what stake does the author have in the matters discussed? If the document is unsigned, what can you infer about the author or authors?
• What sort of biases or blind spots might the author have? For example, is an educated bureaucrat writing with third-hand knowledge of rural hunger riots?
• Where, why, and under what circumstances did the author write the document?
• How might the circumstances (e.g., fear of censorship, the desire to curry favor or evade blame) have influenced the content, style, or tone of the document?
• Has the document been published? If so, did the author intend it to be published?
• If the document was not published, how has it been preserved? In a public archive? In a private collection? Can you learn anything from the way it has been preserved? For example, has it been treated as important or as a minor scrap of paper?
• Does the document have a boilerplate format or style, suggesting that it is a routine sample of a standardized genre, or does it appear out of the ordinary, even unique?
• Who is the intended audience for the document?
• What exactly does the document say? Does it imply something different?
• If the document represents more than one viewpoint, have you carefully distinguished between the author’s viewpoint and those viewpoints the author presents only to criticize or refute?
• In what ways are you, the historian, reading the document differently than its intended audience would have read it (assuming that future historians were not the intended audience)?
• What does the document leave out that you might have expected it to discuss?
• What does the document assume that the reader already knows about the subject (e.g., personal conflicts among the Bolsheviks in 1910, the details of tax farming in eighteenth-century Normandy, secret negotiations to end the Vietnam war)?
• What additional information might help you better interpret the document?
• Do you know (or are you able to infer) the effects or influences, if any, of the document?
• What does the document tell you about the period you are studying?
• If your document is part of an edited collection, why do you suppose the editor chose it? How might the editing have changed the way you perceive the document? For example, have parts been omitted? Has it been translated? (If so, when, by whom, and in what style?) Has the editor placed the document in a suggestive context among other documents, or in some other way led you to a particular interpretation?

Your professor may ask you to write a book review, probably of a scholarly historical monograph. Here are some questions you might ask of the book. Remember that a good review is critical, but critical does not necessarily mean negative. This list is not meant to be exhaustive, nor is it a suggested outline. Of course, you can ask these same questions of any secondary historical work, even if you’re not writing a review.

• Who is the author, and what are his or her qualifications? Has the author written other books on the subject?
• When was the book written, and how does it fit into the scholarly debate on the subject? For example, is Smith writing to refute that idiot Jones; to qualify the work of the competent but unimaginative Johnson; or to add humbly to the evidence presented by the redoubtable Brown’s classic study? Be sure not to confuse the author’s argument with those arguments he or she presents only to criticize later.
• What is the book’s basic argument? (Getting this right is the foundation of your review.)
• What is the author’s method? For example, does the author rely strictly on narrative and anecdotes, or is the book analytical in some way?
• What kinds of evidence does the author use? For example, what is the balance of primary and secondary sources? Has the author done archival work? Is the source base substantial, or does it look thin? Is the author up-to-date in the scholarly literature?
• How skillfully and imaginatively has the author used the evidence?
• Does the author actually use all of the material in the bibliography, or is some of it there for display?
• What sorts of explicit or implicit ideological or methodological assumptions does the author bring to the study? For example, does he or she profess bland objectivity? A Whig view of history? Marxism?
• How persuasive is the author’s argument?
• Is the argument new, or is it old wine in new bottles?
• Is the argument important, with wide-ranging implications, or is it narrow and trivial?
• Is the book well organized and skillfully written?
• What is your overall critical assessment of the book?
• What is the general significance, if any, of the book? (Make sure that you are judging the book that the author actually wrote, not complaining that the author should have written a different book.)

Here are some tips for those long, intimidating term papers or senior theses:

• Start early. If you don’t, none of these tips will matter. Big trouble is looming if you don’t have a specific topic by the end of the first week. You should be delving into the sources during the second week.
• Keep in mind all of the dos and don’ts in this booklet.
• Work closely with your professor to assure that your topic is neither too broad nor too narrow.
• Set up a schedule with your professor and check his or her policy about reading rough drafts or parts of rough drafts. Then keep your professor informed about what you’re doing. You don’t want any unpleasant surprises. You certainly don’t want to hear, “I haven’t seen you for weeks, and it sounds like you’re way off base. How can you possibly get this done with only two weeks left in the semester?”
• Make an appointment with Kristin Strohmeyer, the history reference librarian in Burke Library. She will help you to find and use the appropriate catalogs and indexes.
• Use your imagination in compiling a bibliography. Think of all of the possible key words and subjects that may lead you to material. If you find something really good, check the subjects under which it is cataloged. Comb the notes and bibliographies of books and articles you’ve already found.
• Much of what you need will not be in our library, so get to know the friendly folks in the Interlibrary Loan department.
• Start early. This can’t be said too often.
• Use as many primary sources as you can.
• Jot down your ideas as they come to you. You may not remember them later.
• Take careful notes on your reading. Label your notes completely and precisely. Distinguish meticulously and systematically between what you are directly quoting and what you are summarizing in your own words. Unintended plagiarism is still plagiarism. Stay clean as a hound’s tooth. Write down not just the page of the quotation or idea, but also the whole run of pages where the matter is discussed. Reread all of your notes periodically to make sure that you still understand them and are compiling what you will need to write your paper. Err on the side of writing down more than you think you will need. Copious, precise notes won’t come back to haunt you; skimpy, vague notes will. Just accept that there is something anal about good note-taking.
• If you take notes directly into your computer, they will be easy to index and pull up, but there are a couple of downsides. You will not be able to see all of them simultaneously, as you can note cards laid out on a big table. What you gain in ease of access may come at the price of losing the big picture. Also, if your notes are in your computer, you may be tempted to save time and thought by pasting many of them directly into your paper. Note cards encourage you to rethink and to rework your ideas into a unified whole.
• Don’t start to write until you have a good outline.
• Make sure that your paper has a thesis. (See the entry State a clear thesis. )
• Check and recheck your facts.
• Footnote properly. (See the entry Cite sources carefully .)
• Save plenty of time to proofread.
• Start early.

Top Ten Signs that you may be Writing a Weak History Paper

10. You’re overjoyed to find that you can fill the required pages by widening all margins.

9. You haven’t mentioned any facts or cited any sources for several paragraphs.

8. You find yourself using the phrase “throughout history mankind has...”

7. You just pasted in another 100 words of quotations.

6. You haven’t a clue about the content of your next paragraph.

5. You’re constantly clicking on The Britannica, Webster’s, and Bartlett’s.

4. Your writing tutor sneaks another look at her watch as she reminds you for the third time to clarify your thesis.

3. Your main historical actors are this, it, they, the people, and society, and they are all involved with factors, aspects, impacts, and issues.

2. You just realize that you don’t understand the assignment, but it’s 3:00 A.M, the paper is due at 9:00, and you don’t dare call your professor.

1. You’re relieved that the paper counts for only 20 percent of the course grade.

Final Advice

You guessed it — start early.

Studying History at Hamilton

Students will learn to use interdisciplinary methods from the humanities and social sciences to probe the sources of the past for answers to present questions. They will learn to draw comparisons and connections among diverse societies across a range of historical eras. They will further learn to convey their findings through writing that is clearly structured, precise, and persuasive.

Tutor Appointments

Peer tutor and consultant appointments are managed through TracCloud (login required). Find resources and more information about the ALEX centers using the following links.

Office / Department Name

Nesbitt-Johnston Writing Center

Contact Name

Jennifer Ambrose

Writing Center Director

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How to Write a History Essay

Last Updated: December 27, 2022 Fact Checked

This article was co-authored by Emily Listmann, MA . Emily Listmann is a private tutor in San Carlos, California. She has worked as a Social Studies Teacher, Curriculum Coordinator, and an SAT Prep Teacher. She received her MA in Education from the Stanford Graduate School of Education in 2014. There are 8 references cited in this article, which can be found at the bottom of the page. This article has been fact-checked, ensuring the accuracy of any cited facts and confirming the authority of its sources. This article has been viewed 243,378 times.

Writing a history essay requires you to include a lot of details and historical information within a given number of words or required pages. It's important to provide all the needed information, but also to present it in a cohesive, intelligent way. Know how to write a history essay that demonstrates your writing skills and your understanding of the material.

Preparing to Write Your Essay

• The key words will often need to be defined at the start of your essay, and will serve as its boundaries. [2] X Research source
• For example, if the question was "To what extent was the First World War a Total War?", the key terms are "First World War", and "Total War".
• Do this before you begin conducting your research to ensure that your reading is closely focussed to the question and you don't waste time.

• Explain: provide an explanation of why something happened or didn't happen.
• Interpret: analyse information within a larger framework to contextualise it.
• Evaluate: present and support a value-judgement.
• Argue: take a clear position on a debate and justify it. [3] X Research source

• Your thesis statement should clearly address the essay prompt and provide supporting arguments. These supporting arguments will become body paragraphs in your essay, where you’ll elaborate and provide concrete evidence. [4] X Trustworthy Source Purdue Online Writing Lab Trusted resource for writing and citation guidelines Go to source
• Your argument may change or become more nuanced as your write your essay, but having a clear thesis statement which you can refer back to is very helpful.
• For example, your summary could be something like "The First World War was a 'total war' because civilian populations were mobilized both in the battlefield and on the home front".

• Pick out some key quotes that make your argument precisely and persuasively. [5] X Research source
• When writing your plan, you should already be thinking about how your essay will flow, and how each point will connect together.

Doing Your Research

• Primary source material refers to any texts, films, pictures, or any other kind of evidence that was produced in the historical period, or by someone who participated in the events of the period, that you are writing about.
• Secondary material is the work by historians or other writers analysing events in the past. The body of historical work on a period or event is known as the historiography.
• It is not unusual to write a literature review or historiographical essay which does not directly draw on primary material.
• Typically a research essay would need significant primary material.

• Start with the core texts in your reading list or course bibliography. Your teacher will have carefully selected these so you should start there.
• Look in footnotes and bibliographies. When you are reading be sure to pay attention to the footnotes and bibliographies which can guide you to further sources a give you a clear picture of the important texts.
• Use the library. If you have access to a library at your school or college, be sure to make the most of it. Search online catalogues and speak to librarians.
• Access online journal databases. If you are in college it is likely that you will have access to academic journals online. These are an excellent and easy to navigate resources.
• Use online sources with discretion. Try using free scholarly databases, like Google Scholar, which offer quality academic sources, but avoid using the non-trustworthy websites that come up when you simply search your topic online.
• Avoid using crowd-sourced sites like Wikipedia as sources. However, you can look at the sources cited on a Wikipedia page and use them instead, if they seem credible.

• Who is the author? Is it written by an academic with a position at a University? Search for the author online.
• Who is the publisher? Is the book published by an established academic press? Look in the cover to check the publisher, if it is published by a University Press that is a good sign.
• If it's an article, where is published? If you are using an article check that it has been published in an academic journal. [8] X Research source
• If the article is online, what is the URL? Government sources with .gov addresses are good sources, as are .edu sites.

• Ask yourself why the author is making this argument. Evaluate the text by placing it into a broader intellectual context. Is it part of a certain tradition in historiography? Is it a response to a particular idea?
• Consider where there are weaknesses and limitations to the argument. Always keep a critical mindset and try to identify areas where you think the argument is overly stretched or the evidence doesn't match the author's claims. [9] X Research source

• Label all your notes with the page numbers and precise bibliographic information on the source.
• If you have a quote but can't remember where you found it, imagine trying to skip back through everything you have read to find that one line.
• If you use something and don't reference it fully you risk plagiarism. [10] X Research source

Writing the Introduction

• For example you could start by saying "In the First World War new technologies and the mass mobilization of populations meant that the war was not fought solely by standing armies".
• This first sentences introduces the topic of your essay in a broad way which you can start focus to in on more.

• This will lead to an outline of the structure of your essay and your argument.
• Here you will explain the particular approach you have taken to the essay.
• For example, if you are using case studies you should explain this and give a brief overview of which case studies you will be using and why.

Writing the Essay

• Try to include a sentence that concludes each paragraph and links it to the next paragraph.
• When you are organising your essay think of each paragraph as addressing one element of the essay question.
• Keeping a close focus like this will also help you avoid drifting away from the topic of the essay and will encourage you to write in precise and concise prose.
• Don't forget to write in the past tense when referring to something that has already happened.

• Don't drop a quote from a primary source into your prose without introducing it and discussing it, and try to avoid long quotations. Use only the quotes that best illustrate your point.
• If you are referring to a secondary source, you can usually summarise in your own words rather than quoting directly.
• Be sure to fully cite anything you refer to, including if you do not quote it directly.

• Think about the first and last sentence in every paragraph and how they connect to the previous and next paragraph.
• Try to avoid beginning paragraphs with simple phrases that make your essay appear more like a list. For example, limit your use of words like: "Additionally", "Moreover", "Furthermore".
• Give an indication of where your essay is going and how you are building on what you have already said. [15] X Research source

• Briefly outline the implications of your argument and it's significance in relation to the historiography, but avoid grand sweeping statements. [16] X Research source
• A conclusion also provides the opportunity to point to areas beyond the scope of your essay where the research could be developed in the future.

Proofreading and Evaluating Your Essay

• Try to cut down any overly long sentences or run-on sentences. Instead, try to write clear and accurate prose and avoid unnecessary words.
• Concentrate on developing a clear, simple and highly readable prose style first before you think about developing your writing further. [17] X Research source
• Reading your essay out load can help you get a clearer picture of awkward phrasing and overly long sentences. [18] X Research source

• When you read through your essay look at each paragraph and ask yourself, "what point this paragraph is making".
• You might have produced a nice piece of narrative writing, but if you are not directly answering the question it is not going to help your grade.

• A bibliography will typically have primary sources first, followed by secondary sources. [19] X Research source
• Double and triple check that you have included all the necessary references in the text. If you forgot to include a reference you risk being reported for plagiarism.

Sample Essay

Community Q&A

You Might Also Like

• ↑ http://www.historytoday.com/robert-pearce/how-write-good-history-essay
• ↑ https://www.hamilton.edu/academics/centers/writing/writing-resources/writing-a-good-history-paper
• ↑ https://owl.purdue.edu/owl/general_writing/the_writing_process/thesis_statement_tips.html
• ↑ http://history.rutgers.edu/component/content/article?id=106:writing-historical-essays-a-guide-for-undergraduates
• ↑ https://guides.lib.uw.edu/c.php?g=344285&p=2580599
• ↑ http://www.hamilton.edu/documents/writing-center/WritingGoodHistoryPaper.pdf
• ↑ http://www.bowdoin.edu/writing-guides/
• ↑ https://www.wgtn.ac.nz/hppi/publications/Writing-History-Essays.pdf

About This Article

To write a history essay, read the essay question carefully and use source materials to research the topic, taking thorough notes as you go. Next, formulate a thesis statement that summarizes your key argument in 1-2 concise sentences and create a structured outline to help you stay on topic. Open with a strong introduction that introduces your thesis, present your argument, and back it up with sourced material. Then, end with a succinct conclusion that restates and summarizes your position! For more tips on creating a thesis statement, read on! Did this summary help you? Yes No

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• Writing History: Past Tense versus Present Tense

Earlier this week, I wrote about verb tense and knowing when to use past perfect tense in historical writing . This was in response to Laura asking me for a post on verb tense in historical writing. Thanks again to Laura for the great suggestion for a series of posts!

This time, we’re going to focus on whether it’s okay to use present tense in historical writing, which generates a lot of debate and controversy within history writing circles.

Past or present?

When I was getting a history degree as an undergraduate, I was always taught to write my history papers in the past tense. This was true for term papers, as well as for the sizeable seminar paper I was required to submit as the capstone for my degree.

This requirement differed from what I’d always been taught in literature classes, which was to discuss texts in present tense. So, in a literature paper, no matter how old of a text that I was analyzing, I always wrote about it in the present tense.

As someone who double-majored in both English and history, I’ll confess to sometimes confusing myself when I was working on papers in each discipline, but the requirements make sense for each field. For historians, traditionally, the past is the past, and writing about it now doesn’t make it become the present. On the flip side, literature studies approach their field from a less time-dependent perspective—the elements that one can analyze from a text are not constrained by the time period in which you’re writing.

So, I learned pretty quickly to write about novels and short stories and poems in present tense for literature classes and then write about historical events and primary and secondary sources in past tense for my history classes. Sometimes, that meant writing about novels in past tense for history classes.

In recent years, though, it’s been increasingly more common for historians and historical nonfiction writers to use present tense, which is referred to as historical present when applied to events that happened in the past. Chicago Manual of Style , the default style guide for American publishing, has no objection to the use of historical present.

As you can imagine, this change in approach to tense is not universally accepted.

Battle lines are drawn

If you do a deep dive on the internet about present tense in historical nonfiction writing, you will find a lot of strong opinions on both sides.

What both sides agree on (but very much disagree on the desirability of) is that present tense brings an immediacy to discussions of the past that past tense doesn’t.

Let’s look at our examples from last time when we were playing around with past versus present tense.

“Hitler invaded Poland in September 1939” versus “Hitler invades Poland in September 1939.”

“In 1953, Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay successfully summited Everest” versus “In 1953, Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay successfully summit Everest.”

“General Pickett’s men advanced against Cemetery Ridge” versus “General Pickett’s men advance against Cemetery Ridge.”

For proponents of present tense, the advantage here is that it puts you, the reader, right there and makes the event more vivid and immediate to you, no matter how many years, decades, or centuries have passed since then. You’re right there as tanks roll through Poland, as Hillary and Norgay set foot on the highest mountain in the world, and as soldiers start advancing across a brutal battlefield.

It’s a standard narrative technique, and they see no reason not to employ it to draw readers in.

For opponents of past tense, the problem is that you’re not there and never will be, no matter how much you use present tense. For them, it seems distracting and gimmicky and can also even convey a lack of neutrality and distance that historical writing often strives for. It’s essentially too informal and excited sounding.  

Should I use present or past tense when I’m writing history?

For me, personally, my inclination is to write history in past tense. That’s what I was taught to do, and I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong or even boring about past tense. As someone who also has a background in literature and is very interested in applying fictional techniques to nonfiction narrative, though, I can also see the argument in favor of how immediately gripping present tense can be.

My advice, therefore, would depend on the context of your writing—for whom are you writing?

If you’re writing for a general audience, they’re unlikely to have strong opinions on what tense you use, and they may be in need of more persuading to read history. In that case, present tense likely won’t cause you any problems and may even be a selling point for some of those reluctant readers. Be aware, though, that some people who aren’t historians are also not a fan of present tense. They trip over it for the same reason some historians dislike it–they feel like it’s an artificial attempt to make something seem like it’s happening now and they can’t suspend their disbelief to roll with it.

If you’re writing for an audience of historians or history buffs, they likely do have strong opinions on using past versus present tense and are already motivated to read history for the sake of history. In that case, erring on the side of caution and sticking with past tense is your safest bet and can even make you seem more professional. Fans of historical present may not be pleased, but you’re not technically doing anything wrong by following the traditional convention here.

Who’s publishing you is also worth considering for this issue. If you’re working with a history publisher, they may well have a marked preference, so it’s worth asking or checking for press-specific guidelines to see if they explain their stance on tense. More general interest publishers are unlikely to be as opinionated—though they might be—and will often default to Chicago Manual of Style , which, as noted earlier, isn’t opposed to present tense for past events. For self-publishing, likely audience is your best bet for determining whether to use past or present tense in writing about history.

Your purpose for writing may also play into your decision on which tense to use and will likely intersect with your decision on the intended audience. If your primary purpose is to provide a narrative about history, present tense may help you bring those events to life quite vividly. If your primary purpose is to analyze, however, present tense may not strike the right academic tone like past tense would. As a rule, though there are some exceptions, a focus on narrative also suggests what you’re working on is likely targeted toward a more general audience than something that’s primary purpose is analysis, which again would make present tense more likely to work for the former and past tense more appropriate for the latter.

Is present tense ever okay in historical writing for people who don’t like historical present?

Most of the heated discussions that break out about tense (I resisted the urge to make a pun about tense arguments since I already used that in the last post 😊 ) relate specifically to talking about the past.

There are times when present tense is unavoidable in historical writing, and in these instances, even people who are not fans of historical present don’t object to using present tense in these scenarios.

One of these instances is if something is still a matter of current fact. Even if you talk about the invasion of Poland in 1939 in past tense, you wouldn’t say “Warsaw was in Poland.” It’s still in Poland today, just as it was in 1939, so you’d use present tense there: “Warsaw is in Poland.” If you’re dealing with a historical context that has had fluid boundaries, then switching tense may even help clarify that for readers. (For example: “Today, Lviv is part of Ukraine, but in 1939, it was in Poland and called Lwów.”)

Providing one’s own conclusions is also a valid reason to use present tense in historical writing that is otherwise using past tense. So, in a hypothetical discussion of the start of World War II, the conclusions you’re arguing for are when you’d switch to present tense. It’s also okay to discuss contemporary research in present tense, as well as effects of the past that continue into the present day. Again, these aren’t scenarios where you’re writing about the past anymore. In these instances, you’re writing about contemporary effects, thoughts, and arguments, so present tense makes sense. Past tense may even seem odd and stilted in these moments.

I’ve not decided on the next topic I’ll write about it. I have a couple of different topics I’m considering, but I’m also open to suggestions. Are there any questions you have about writing that you’d like me to answer?

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• Verb Tenses in Academic Writing | Rules, Differences & Examples

Verb Tenses in Academic Writing | Rules, Differences & Examples

Published on 20 October 2022 by Shane Bryson . Revised on 11 September 2023.

Tense communicates an event’s location in time. The different tenses are identified by their associated verb forms. There are three main verb tenses: past ,  present , and  future .

In English, each of these tenses can take four main aspects:  simple ,  perfect ,  continuous  (also known as  progressive ), and  perfect continuous . The perfect aspect is formed using the verb  to have , while the continuous aspect is formed using the verb  to be .

In academic writing , the most commonly used tenses are the  present simple , the  past simple , and the  present perfect .

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Table of contents

Tenses and their functions, when to use the present simple, when to use the past simple, when to use the present perfect, when to use other tenses.

The table below gives an overview of some of the basic functions of tenses and aspects. Tenses locate an event in time, while aspects communicate durations and relationships between events that happen at different times.

It can be difficult to pick the right verb tenses and use them consistently. If you struggle with verb tenses in your thesis or dissertation , you could consider using a thesis proofreading service .

The only proofreading tool specialized in correcting academic writing

The academic proofreading tool has been trained on 1000s of academic texts and by native English editors. Making it the most accurate and reliable proofreading tool for students.

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The present simple is the most commonly used tense in academic writing, so if in doubt, this should be your default choice of tense. There are two main situations where you always need to use the present tense.

Describing facts, generalisations, and explanations

Facts that are always true do not need to be located in a specific time, so they are stated in the present simple. You might state these types of facts when giving background information in your introduction .

• The Eiffel tower  is in Paris.
• Light  travels faster than sound.

Similarly, theories and generalisations based on facts are expressed in the present simple.

• Average income differs by race and gender.
• Older people express less concern about the environment than younger people.

Explanations of terms, theories, and ideas should also be written in the present simple.

• Photosynthesis  refers to  the process by which plants  convert sunlight into chemical energy.
• According to Piketty (2013), inequality grows over time in capitalist economies.

Describing the content of a text

Things that happen within the space of a text should be treated similarly to facts and generalisations.

This applies to fictional narratives in books, films, plays, etc. Use the present simple to describe the events or actions that are your main focus; other tenses can be used to mark different times within the text itself.

• In the first novel, Harry learns he is a wizard and travels  to Hogwarts for the first time, finally escaping the constraints of the family that raised him.

The events in the first part of the sentence are the writer’s main focus, so they are described in the present tense. The second part uses the past tense to add extra information about something that happened prior to those events within the book.

When discussing and analyzing nonfiction, similarly, use the present simple to describe what the author does within the pages of the text ( argues , explains , demonstrates , etc).

• In The History of Sexuality , Foucault asserts that sexual identity is a modern invention.
• Paglia (1993) critiques Foucault’s theory.

This rule also applies when you are describing what you do in your own text. When summarising the research in your abstract , describing your objectives, or giving an overview of the  dissertation structure in your introduction, the present simple is the best choice of tense.

• This research  aims to synthesise the two theories.
• Chapter 3 explains  the methodology and discusses ethical issues.
• The paper  concludes with recommendations for further research.

The past simple should be used to describe completed actions and events, including steps in the research process and historical background information.

Reporting research steps

Whether you are referring to your own research or someone else’s, use the past simple to report specific steps in the research process that have been completed.

• Olden (2017) recruited 17 participants for the study.
• We transcribed and coded the interviews before analyzing the results.

The past simple is also the most appropriate choice for reporting the results of your research.

• All of the focus group participants agreed  that the new version  was an improvement.
• We  found a positive correlation between the variables, but it  was not as strong as we  hypothesised .

Describing historical events

Background information about events that took place in the past should also be described in the past simple tense.

• James Joyce  pioneered the modernist use of stream of consciousness.
• Donald Trump’s election in 2016  contradicted the predictions of commentators.

The present perfect is used mainly to describe past research that took place over an unspecified time period. You can also use it to create a connection between the findings of past research and your own work.

Summarising previous work

When summarising a whole body of research or describing the history of an ongoing debate, use the present perfect.

• Many researchers  have investigated the effects of poverty on health.
• Studies  have shown a link between cancer and red meat consumption.
• Identity politics has been a topic of heated debate since the 1960s.
• The problem of free will  has vexed philosophers for centuries.

Similarly, when mentioning research that took place over an unspecified time period in the past (as opposed to a specific step or outcome of that research), use the present perfect instead of the past tense.

• Green et al.  have conducted extensive research on the ecological effects of wolf reintroduction.

Emphasising the present relevance of previous work

When describing the outcomes of past research with verbs like fi nd ,  discover or demonstrate , you can use either the past simple or the present perfect.

The present perfect is a good choice to emphasise the continuing relevance of a piece of research and its consequences for your own work. It implies that the current research will build on, follow from, or respond to what previous researchers have done.

• Smith (2015) has found that younger drivers are involved in more traffic accidents than older drivers, but more research is required to make effective policy recommendations.
• As Monbiot (2013)  has shown , ecological change is closely linked to social and political processes.

Note, however, that the facts and generalisations that emerge from past research are reported in the present simple.

While the above are the most commonly used tenses in academic writing, there are many cases where you’ll use other tenses to make distinctions between times.

Future simple

The future simple is used for making predictions or stating intentions. You can use it in a research proposal  to describe what you intend to do.

It is also sometimes used for making predictions and stating hypotheses . Take care, though, to avoid making statements about the future that imply a high level of certainty. It’s often a better choice to use other verbs like  expect ,  predict,  and  assume to make more cautious statements.

• There  will be a strong positive correlation.
• We  expect  to find a strong positive correlation.
• H1  predicts a strong positive correlation.

Similarly, when discussing the future implications of your research, rather than making statements with will,  try to use other verbs or modal verbs that imply possibility ( can ,  could ,  may ,  might ).

• These findings  will influence  future approaches to the topic.
• These findings  could influence future approaches to the topic.

Present, past, and future continuous

The continuous aspect is not commonly used in academic writing. It tends to convey an informal tone, and in most cases, the present simple or present perfect is a better choice.

• Some scholars are suggesting that mainstream economic paradigms are no longer adequate.
• Some scholars suggest   that mainstream economic paradigms are no longer adequate.
• Some scholars have suggested   that mainstream economic paradigms are no longer adequate.

However, in certain types of academic writing, such as literary and historical studies, the continuous aspect might be used in narrative descriptions or accounts of past events. It is often useful for positioning events in relation to one another.

• While Harry is traveling to Hogwarts for the first time, he meets many of the characters who will become central to the narrative.
• The country was still recovering from the recession when Donald Trump was elected.

Past perfect

Similarly, the past perfect is not commonly used, except in disciplines that require making fine distinctions between different points in the past or different points in a narrative’s plot.

Sources for this article

We strongly encourage students to use sources in their work. You can cite our article (APA Style) or take a deep dive into the articles below.

Bryson, S. (2023, September 11). Verb Tenses in Academic Writing | Rules, Differences & Examples. Scribbr. Retrieved 22 April 2024, from https://www.scribbr.co.uk/english-language/verb-tenses/

Aarts, B. (2011).  Oxford modern English grammar . Oxford University Press.

Butterfield, J. (Ed.). (2015).  Fowler’s dictionary of modern English usage  (4th ed.). Oxford University Press.

Garner, B. A. (2016).  Garner’s modern English usage (4th ed.). Oxford University Press.

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Shane Bryson

Shane finished his master's degree in English literature in 2013 and has been working as a writing tutor and editor since 2009. He began proofreading and editing essays with Scribbr in early summer, 2014.

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How to Write History Essays

How to write history essays is a question that students have asked for many years. And many students mistakenly believe that it is a very difficult task.

However, it is not as difficult as it seems. There are some basic steps that you can follow to make sure that your essay is well-written and informative.

Once you've mastered the basics of writing a history essay, you will be surprised just how easy it is. In this article, we will discuss the different aspects of writing a history essay and what makes good historical writing.

We will also provide steps in preparing a history essay and Dos and Don'ts in history essay writing. So, if you are looking to write a great history essay, read on!

What is History Essay?

Many students who ask us; can you write my essay in most cases don't really understand what is needed in writing this type of essay. Now, a history essay is a piece of written work that focuses on the user's historical perspective.

The purpose of a history essay is to communicate the writer's knowledge about a specific event, person, or place in history. A history essay can be either an argumentative essay or a descriptive essay.

An argumentative essay presents an argument for or against a specific claim, while a descriptive essay provides a detailed description of one particular event, person, or place.

History Essay: Sources to Use

All our history essay writers acknowledge that a thorough history essay is as good as its sources. This means that the credibility and validity of your essay will be judged not only on the strength of your argument but also on the quality and relevancy of your sources.

If you can back up your argument with credible sources, your reader will be more likely to take your argument seriously. There are two sources you can use in your history essay; primary and secondary sources. We explain each of them below;

Primary sources

These are first-hand accounts of an event that was created at the time the event took place. This can include letters, diary entries, speeches, and other documents.

Using primary sources is important because it allows you to see the event from the perspective of someone who was actually there. This can give you a better understanding of what happened and why.

Secondary sources

These are interpretations of primary sources. This can include books, articles, and other works that analyze and discuss primary sources.

Using secondary sources is important because it allows you to see how historians have interpreted the primary sources. This can give you a different perspective on the event and help you form your own opinion.

History Essay Formats

History essays have two common formats: the chronological format and the thematic format. The chronological format is where you arrange your essay in chronological order.

This means that you will start with the earliest event and end with the most recent event. The thematic format is where you arrange your essay around a specific theme.

For example, you could write about the causes of the American Civil War or the impact of the Industrial Revolution.

Both formats have their advantages and disadvantages. The chronological format is good for giving an overview of a specific time period.

The thematic format is good for discussing specific events in more depth. Ultimately, the format you choose will depend on your preference and your assignment's requirements.

How to Choose History Essay Topics

A good history essay should be challenging and encourage you to critically engage with the material. However, it should also be accessible enough that you can confidently approach the task without feeling overwhelmed.

The best way to find a good balance is to choose a specific and manageable topic. For example, rather than writing an essay on the entire history of the United States, you could write about the impact of the Industrial Revolution on American society.

This narrow focus will allow you to really delve into the details and explore different aspects of the topic in depth. When choosing a topic, it is also important to consider available resources.

There is no point in choosing a topic so obscure that there is almost no material to work with. Choosing a good topic for your history essay is an important first step in ensuring you get a great grade.

With a little planning, you can set yourself up for success. Below are some history essay topic examples you may want to consider:

• How did the Industrial Revolution change American society?
• What were the causes of the American Civil War?
• What was the impact of World War II on American society?
• The rise of the civil rights movement in the United States.
• The history of immigration in the United States.

History Essay Outline

A good history essay should have a clear and concise structure. By following an outline, you can ensure that your essay is well-organized and flows smoothly.

An essay's basic structure is composed of three parts:

• The introduction
• Body paragraphs, and
• The conclusion.

The introduction should give an overview of the main points of your essay. It should also introduce the reader to the main historical characters and events you will discuss.

The body paragraphs are where you will develop your argument and support your thesis statement. Each body paragraph should focus on a specific point.

The conclusion should summarize your main points and briefly restate your thesis statement. Below is a simplified guide on how to go about these different parts of your essay:

How to Start a Strong History Essay

The best way to start a history essay is to first understand the question that has been asked. Once you clearly understand what is being asked, you can begin to formulate your thesis statement.

Your thesis statement is the central argument of your essay. It should be concise and clear and state your position on the topic.

Once you have a thesis statement, you can begin to outline your essay. Begin by brainstorming ideas and organizing them into main points.

These main points will form the body paragraphs of your essay. As you brainstorm, you may also want to consider the resources that are available to you.

Do you have access to primary sources? What about secondary sources? By considering your resources, you can start to narrow down your focus and choose a specific angle to approach the topic.

How to Write Body Paragraphs

Each body paragraph should focus on a specific point. This point should be directly related to your thesis statement.

As you write each body paragraph, you will want to provide evidence to support your main point. This evidence can come in the form of quotes from historical texts, statistics, or data.

When using evidence, it is important to be sure to cite your sources. This will show that you have done your research and are familiar with the material.

It is also important to explain how this evidence supports your main point. This will help solidify your argument and ensure your reader understands the connection between the evidence and your thesis.

How to Write a Conclusion

The conclusion of your essay should briefly sum up your main points and restate your thesis statement. You may also want to briefly discuss the implications of your argument. What does your argument mean for the larger history of the topic?

By considering the implications of your argument, you can show that you have thought critically about the topic and made a well-reasoned argument.

Steps in Preparing a Historical Essay

• Choose a topic
• Research your topic
• Develop a thesis statement
• Outline your essay
• Write your essay
• Edit and proofread your essay

Dos and Don'ts in History Essay Writing

• Do narrow down your focus to a specific time period, event, or individual
• Do use primary and secondary sources to support your argument
• Do cite your sources using proper MLA or APA format
• Don't choose a topic that is too broad
• Don't rely solely on secondary sources
• Don't plagiarize your sources

What tense should a history essay be written in?

Generally, history essays are written in the past tense. This tense is used to describe events that have already happened.

What makes good historical writing?

Good historical writing is clear, concise, and well-organized arguments supported by evidences.

How many paragraphs should a history essay have?

There is no set number of paragraphs for a history essay. However, most essays will typically have 3-5 body paragraphs.

Writing a good history essay doesn't have to cause so much stress. Follow the steps outlined above to plan and write a well-organized essay that packs a punch.

If you still struggle to come up with a good paper, perhaps buying an essay at our service could save you.

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Writing academically: Tenses

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“Quote” Author, Book

In simple terms, verb tenses refer to the past, present or future. Verb tenses tell the reader when something happened, and are used to convey what is or is not known at the time of writing.

If you are reporting on your own or others’ specific research activities (such as methods that were used, or results that were found) then you would generally use the past tense.

• An experiment was conducted…
• It was found that…
• Brown (2010) found that…

In the example based on Brown’s research, the writer was referring to a specific result that Brown found when he conducted his research in 2010, and is therefore written in the past tense.

Present tense

Use the present tense if you are making general statements that draw on previous research, and usually indicates what is known at the time of writing , for example:

Example: 

• The research shows...
• The results of the experiment suggest that…
• Brown’s (2010) study suggests that…

In the above example based on Brown’s research, the writer makes a reference to what is known at the time of writing , and so it is written in the present tense.

Here is an example of using both the past and present tense in your writing:

Example:  Brown (2010) conducted a survey of 1000 students. The results of his survey suggest that all his students are geniuses.

In this example the writer refers to a specific survey that Brown conducted (past tense) in 2010. The writer then conveys how the results of Brown’s survey are still considered worthy today by writing in the present tense ( suggest ).

Compare this to the following example:

Example:  Brown (2010) conducted a survey of 1000 students. The results of his survey suggested that all his students were geniuses, but his later work (Brown, 2015) suggests this is not the case.

As previously, Brown’s specific study of 2010 is referred to in the past tense. But we now find that a later study by Brown (2015) appears to be in disagreement with his earlier 2010 study. Consequently the writer now refers to the conclusions drawn from the 2010 study in the past tense ( suggested ), and it is the results of Brown’s 2015 study – which represents what is known at the time of writing - that is referred to in the present tense ( suggests ).

Future tense

The future tense is not often used in academic writing because it tends to imply a level of certainty that academics can find uncomfortable. If you use verbs such as will or shall then be certain of your certainty! Otherwise use verbs that express possibility, such as could or may .

The exception is in research proposals where you are writing about what you intend to do - so the future tense is used.

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What Is the Historical Present (Verb Tense) in English?

Learn More Using Our Glossary of Grammatical and Rhetorical Terms

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• An Introduction to Punctuation
• Ph.D., Rhetoric and English, University of Georgia
• M.A., Modern English and American Literature, University of Leicester
• B.A., English, State University of New York

In English grammar, the "historical present" is the use of a verb phrase in the present tense to refer to an event that took place in the past. In narratives, the historical present may be used to create an effect of immediacy. Also called the "historic present, dramatic present, and narrative present."

In rhetoric, the use of the present tense to report on events from the past is called translatio temporum ("transfer of times"). "The term "translation " is particularly interesting," notes German English literature educator Heinrich Plett, "because it is also the Latin word for metaphor. It clearly shows that the historical present only exists as an intended tropical deviation of the past tense ."

(Plett, Henrich. Rhetoric and Renaissance Culture, Walter de Gruyter GmbH & Co., 2004.)

Examples of the Historical Present Tense

"It is a bright summer day in 1947. My father, a fat, funny man with beautiful eyes and a subversive wit, is trying to decide which of his eight children he will take with him to the county fair. My mother, of course, will not go. She is knocked out from getting most of us ready: I hold my neck stiff against the pressure of her knuckles as she hastily completes the braiding and the beribboning of my hair. ..."

(Walker, Alice. "Beauty: When the Other Dancer Is the Self." In Search of Our Mothers' Gardens: Womanist Prose, Harcourt Brace, 1983.)

"There is a famous story of President Abraham Lincoln, taking a vote at a cabinet meeting on whether to sign the Emancipation Proclamation. All his cabinet secretaries vote nay, whereupon Lincoln raises his right hand and declares : 'The ayes have it.'"

(Rodman, Peter W.  Presidential Command, Vintage, 2010.)

"Verbs in the 'historic present' describe something that happened in the past. The present tense is used because the facts are listed as a summary, and the present tense provides a sense of urgency. This historic present tense is also found in news bulletins. The announcer may say at the start, 'Fire hits a city center building, the government defends the new minister, and in football City, United lose.'"

("Language Notes," BBC World Service.)

"If you introduce things which are past as present and now taking place, you will make your story no longer a narration but an actuality."

("Longinus,  On the Sublime, " quoted by Chris Anderson in  Style as Argument: Contemporary American Nonfiction, Southern Illinois University Press, 1987.)

Essay Excerpt in the Historical Present Tense

"I’m nine years old, in bed, in the dark. The detail in the room is perfectly clear. I am lying on my back. I have a greeny-gold quilted eiderdown covering me. I have just calculated that I will be 50 years old in 1997. ‘Fifty’ and ‘1997’ don’t mean a thing to me, aside from being an answer to an arithmetic question I set myself. I try it differently. ‘I will be 50 in 1997.’ 1997 doesn’t matter. ‘I will be 50.’ The statement is absurd. I am nine. ‘I will be ten’ makes sense. ‘I will be 13’ has a dreamlike maturity about it. ‘I will be 50’ is simply a paraphrase of another senseless statement I make to myself at night: ‘I will be dead one day.’ ‘One day I won’t be.’ I have a great determination to feel the sentence as a reality. But it always escapes me. ‘I will be dead’ comes with a picture of a dead body on a bed. But it’s mine, a nine-year-old body. When I make it old, it becomes someone else. I can’t imagine myself dead. I can’t imagine myself dying. Either the effort or the failure to do so makes me feel panicky. ..."

(Diski, Jenny. Diary ,  London Review of Books , October 15, 1998. Report title "At Fifty" in  The Art of the Essay: The Best of 1999 , edited by Phillip Lopate, Anchor Books, 1999.)

Memoir Excerpt in the Historical Present Tense

"My first conscious direct memory of anything outside myself is not of Duckmore and its estates but of the street. I am adventuring out of our front gate and into the great world beyond. It's a summer's day — perhaps this is the very first summer after we moved in when I'm not yet three. I walk along the pavement, and on into the endless distances of the street — past the gate of No. 4 — on and bravely on until I find myself in a strange new landscape with its own exotic flora, a mass of sunlit pink blossom on a tangled rambler rose hanging over a garden fence. I have got almost as far as the garden gate of No. 5. At this point, I somehow become aware of how far I am from home and abruptly lose all my taste for exploration. I turn and run back to No. 3."

(Frayn, Michael. My Father's Fortune: A Life, Metropolitan Books, 2010.)

How the Historical Present Forces Illusion

"When the reference point of the narration is not the present moment but some point in the past, we have the 'historical present,' in which a writer tries to parachute the reader into the midst of an unfolding story ( Genevieve lies awake in bed. A floorboard creaks ... ). The historical present is also often used in the setup of a joke, as in A guy walks into a bar with a duck on his head . ... Though the you-are-there illusion forced by the historical present can be an effective narrative device, it can also feel manipulative. Recently a Canadian columnist complained about a CBC Radio news program that seemed to him to overuse the present tense, as in 'UN forces open fire on protesters.' The director explained to him that the show is supposed to sound 'less analytic, less reflective' and 'more dynamic, more hot' than the flagship nightly news show."

(Pinker, Steven.  The Stuff of Thought, Viking, 2007.)

Avoid Overusing This Tense

"Avoid the use of the historical present unless the narrative is sufficiently vivid to make the use spontaneous. The historical present is one of the boldest of figures and, as is the case with all figures, its overuse makes a style cheap and ridiculous."

(Royster, James Finch and Stith Thompson,  Guide to Composition, Scott Foresman and Company, 1919.)

• Meaning of Tense Shift in Verbs
• literary present (verbs)
• How to Begin an Essay: 13 Engaging Strategies
• What Are the Gnomic Present Tense Verbs?
• Definition and Examples of Narratives in Writing
• What Are Reporting Verbs in English Grammar?
• Verbs in Simple Present Tense
• The Two German Past Tenses and How to Use Them
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• Understanding Verb Tenses
• A Guide to All Types of Narration, With Examples
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• Habitual Present Verbs
• Definition and Examples of Diazeugma
• Verb Phrase
• Narratio in Rhetoric

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What You Need to Know as a Writer About Narrative Tenses

by Holly Riddle

Narrative tenses are one of those things that you likely take for granted as a reader, but that are all too important for writers. While schools usually teach narrative tenses in English classes, these verb tenses are often forgotten once they’re no longer needed, leaving you without really any thorough knowledge of how each tense works and when it should be used.

What are narrative tenses?

Narrative tenses are verb tenses that are used to talk about things that happened in the past. Different tenses can communicate different things about how and when these actions were taken. There are four narrative tenses: past simple, past continuous, past perfect, and past perfect continuous.

Using the right verb tense as you describe events in your book or build any sort of narrative is crucial to creating immersive stories. The wrong verbs and related words can make a sentence clunky and distracting, pulling your reader out of your story.

Here’s what you need to know about narrative tenses as a writer.

The four narrative tenses

There are four primary narrative tenses: past simple, past continuous, past perfect, and past perfect continuous.

What about future and present tense?

You probably learned about other verb tenses in school, like future or present, but narrative tenses aren’t just any old verb tenses. The term “narrative tenses” is specifically used to tell stories that happened in the past. While many modern authors play with future and present tenses in their novels or short stories (especially present tense in the young adult story space), “narrative tenses” technically only refers to past tenses.

Past simple tense

This is the simplest narrative tense there is. These verbs are used to talk about and describe past events that were fully completed at some point in the past. That’s it.

You’ll find this tense used broadly in most fiction and spoken accounts. A story that’s set in past tense overall will use past simple tense to describe most actions within the plot.

Past simple examples

Here’s an example of how past simple tense looks in fiction, with the past simple verbs highlighted. These sentences are from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum.

Toto jumped out of Dorothy’s arms and hid under the bed, and the girl started to get him. Aunt Em, badly frightened, threw open the trap door in the floor and climbed down the ladder into the small, dark hole. Dorothy caught Toto at last and started to follow her aunt. When she was halfway across the room there came a great shriek from the wind, and the house shook so hard that she lost her footing and sat down suddenly upon the floor.

Past perfect tense

Past perfect tense is a little more complex than past simple tense. One easy way to recognize past perfect tense, though? Look for the word “had.” Generally, past perfect tense is used to talk about past events or an action that occurred even before the main event of the plot.

Past perfect examples

Here’s another snapshot for context, also from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz , with the past perfect verb phrases highlighted.

Not a tree nor a house broke the broad sweep of flat country that reached to the edge of the sky in all directions. The sun had baked the plowed land into a gray mass, with little cracks running through it. Even the grass was not green, for the sun had burned the tops of the long blades until they were the same gray color to be seen everywhere. Once the house had been painted , but the sun blistered the paint and the rains washed it away, and now the house was as dull and gray as everything else.

As you can see when you read this passage, the sun had baked and burned the land, and the house had been painted, at some point in time before the sun blistered the paint and before the rains washed it away.

This tense comes in handy when you’re telling a story, but, in order for the story to make sense in the correct order, you need to provide background information and refer to something that occurred before the main events of the story you’re telling.

Past continuous tense

Past continuous tense refers to something that is occurring at the same time as your story. You can recognize past continuous tense by looking out for the “-ing” suffix.

Past continuous examples

Here, the past continuous verbs in this passage from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz are again bolded.

There were lovely patches of greensward all about, with stately trees bearing rich and luscious fruits. Banks of gorgeous flowers were on every hand, and birds with rare and brilliant plumage sang and fluttered in the trees and bushes. A little way off was a small brook, rushing and sparkling along between green banks, and murmuring in a voice very grateful to a little girl who had lived so long on the dry, gray prairies.

Here you can see how these actions—bearing, sparkling, rushing, murmuring—are continuously occurring right when the story is happening. They’re not occurring in the distant past. They’re not one-off actions that are completed and done. They continue on.

Past perfect continuous tense

Lastly, we have past perfect continuous tense, which is a combination of both past perfect tense and past continuous tense. These verbs reference an action that occurred in the distant past, but that was continuously occurring for a certain, defined amount of time.

These verbs can usually be identified by both the presence of “had been” and that “-ing” suffix. They also usually include a few words telling you how long the action continued before it ended.

Past perfect continuous examples

Here’s our last excerpt:

They had hardly been walking an hour when they saw before them a great ditch that crossed the road and divided the forest as far as they could see on either side.

In this sentence, the subjects had been walking continuously, and did so until something else in the story happened and stopped this continuous action. The text provides more background information related to the story’s main event.

Choose the right narrative tense for your short story or novel

If you’re writing in the past tense, you’ll very likely use all of these narrative tenses at some point. The key is to know when to use them correctly to describe your characters’ actions in your stories or your own actions, if you’re writing a memoir or personal essay. Once you get the hang of them, you’ll find that using the right narrative tense comes easily and without a second thought.

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What Tense Should I Use in Writing?

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When writing, people are often confused about what tense they should use. Should I write this MLA history paper in past tense? Should I write my short story in present or past tense? How about a resume: should I write my job entries in present or past? And these people are right to be confused because what tense you should use varies widely depending on your writing style and your purpose.

Academic (Four Main Styles)

APA/Harvard: Per APA (and its non-American variant, Harvard), you should primarily use past tense, especially in literature reviews where you’re talking about authors’ past studies. It should be:

“Johnson (2008) argued . . .”

“Johnson (2008) argues . . . .”

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The same is true for your Results and Method sections, but APA makes an exception for Discussion sections (where you examine your conclusions and the implications of the study), which can be in present tense if it better conveys your meaning.

MLA: This style is a bit more straightforward. Per MLA, you should be almost always using present tense:

“In To Kill a Mockingbird , Atticus Finch argues . . .”

If you need to differentiate time, you should use present perfect tense:

“For many years, Scout has been worrying about . . . .”

If you must, you can use some past tense, but keep it to a minimum.

Chicago: This style is a bit more lenient. Per Chicago, you can use either present or past (Though it’s best to use present when discussing literature and past when writing about history.), but make sure you stay consistent. If you switch, make sure you need to, such as:

The Romans used various military strategies, some of which are still in use today.

AP: AP, which is used by news media, is also more flexible. There is no set tense; instead, you should be endeavoring to use present/past/future as necessary to make sure the events you are describing are as clear as possible. AP also recommends using time words (today, tomorrow, March 17, etc.) to anchor your piece and further reduce ambiguity.

When talking about your job experience in resumes, the rule is simple: Use present tense for current positions:

Lead team in HVAC solutions

And use past tense for past positions:

Led team in HVAC solutions

Business Plan

Professors and potential investors have different views on what tense a business plan should be written in, but definitely you should be using either future or present tense. Some people argue that you should always write a business plan in future tense because you’re talking about your future plans.

But there’s another school of thought that recommends using present tense instead because this will allow your plan to stay current as you develop it and you develop your business. In other words, as you develop your business, you develop your plan, and it stays current with what you’re doing.

Above all, fictional writing needs to be consistent in its tense. Just as above, don’t switch unless you must. (BTW, fictional writing is done in Chicago Style.)

Everything Else

For everything else, such as business letters, admission essays, and e-mails, and especially in more informal contexts, just use your best judgment and write in whatever tense feels right to you. Go with your instincts and remember that, unless you’re writing in a formal academic context, you have more leeway to do whatever you like.

Just remember, for all styles and purposes, always be consistent. Try to pick one tense and stick with it throughout your piece. If you have to switch tenses, make it very obvious why you are doing so, and at least try to start new paragraphs for new tenses.

That’s it, I hope you have/had/will have good luck in your writing!

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But it will be the 12 men and women of the jury — in Mr. Trump’s hometown — who will first decide his fate, before millions more do so at the polls.

The jury’s makeup and the security of its members will be central to the landmark case. Mr. Trump claims he cannot receive a fair trial in one of the nation’s most Democratic counties, a place where he is deeply unpopular, though some of the jurors who ultimately landed on the panel praised him.

One man said during the selection that he believed the former president had done some good for the country, adding, “it goes both ways.” Another juror, in a possible first for the country, said he didn’t have an opinion on Mr. Trump.

The final 12 were a collection of Manhattanites as eclectic as the city itself. They are Black, Asian, white, male, female, middle-aged and young, including one woman in her first job out of college. They work in finance, education, health care and the law. And they live, among other places, in Harlem, Chelsea, the Upper East Side and Murray Hill.

One alternate was also picked before court adjourned. The judge plans to conclude jury selection on Friday, when the lawyers will select the remaining five alternates.

The long day got off to an inauspicious start as Justice Merchan excused the two jurors, including a woman who had developed concerns about her identity being revealed. That fear, she added, might compromise her fairness and “decision-making in the courtroom,” prompting the judge to excuse her.

The precise reason the judge dismissed the other juror was not clear, but prosecutors had raised concerns about the credibility of answers he had given to questions about himself. Asked outside the courthouse whether he believed he should have been dismissed, the man, who declined to give his name, replied, “Nope.”

The dismissals underscored the intense pressure of serving on this particular panel. Jurors are risking their safety and their privacy to sit in judgment of a former commander in chief who is now their fellow citizen, a heavy responsibility that could unnerve even the most seen-it-all New Yorkers.

During jury selection, prospective members are routinely excused by the dozens. And once a trial formally begins, it is not unheard-of to lose a juror for reasons such as illness or violating a judge’s order not to read about the proceeding. But losing two in one day, before opening arguments even began, was unusual — one of many small ways in which this trial will stand apart.

The ousters appeared to rankle the judge, who has striven to keep the trial on schedule. He said he thought the woman who declined to serve would have “been a very good juror.”

Although the judge has kept prospective jurors’ names private, they disclosed their employers and other identifying information in open court. But Justice Merchan instructed reporters to no longer divulge prospective jurors’ current or past employers, a decision that some media law experts questioned.

Inside a chilly courtroom on Thursday, as lawyers on both sides scrutinized a new round of prospective jurors, Mr. Trump stared intently at the jury box and prodded his lawyers, prompting one, Todd Blanche, to shake his head in response.

Already this week, the judge has admonished Mr. Trump for his comments about jurors, warning him not to intimidate anyone in the courtroom.

And the Manhattan district attorney’s office, which accused Mr. Trump of falsifying the records to hide a hush-money deal with a porn star, on Thursday renewed a request that Justice Merchan hold Mr. Trump in contempt of court after he recently reposted attacks on prospective jurors on social media.

The prosecutors have argued that Mr. Trump violated a gag order in the case 10 times, and the judge said he would consider the request next week, when he weighs a related effort to penalize the former president for attacks on witnesses in the case.

Mr. Trump constantly tests the boundaries of the gag order. His political allies, who are not covered by the order, routinely attack the judge and his family. And now, they are attacking the impartiality of the jury.

In early March, Justice Merchan issued an order prohibiting the public disclosure of jurors’ names, while allowing legal teams and the defendant to know their identities.

But before the trial, Mr. Trump’s lawyers requested that potential jurors not be told that the jury would be anonymous unless they expressed concerns. Justice Merchan said that he would “make every effort to not unnecessarily alert the jurors” to this secrecy, merely telling jurors that they would be identified in court by a number.

After the two jurors were excused Thursday, selection continued as lawyers on both sides vetted potential replacements in a courtroom so drafty that even the former president was compelled to acknowledge it, asking reporters, “Cold enough for you?”

Some prospective jurors opted out, acknowledging they might not be fair to Mr. Trump.

One potential juror who was dismissed said he was from Italy and noted that the Italian media had pushed comparisons between Mr. Trump and Silvio Berlusconi, the country’s former prime minister, a media magnate caught up in sex scandals.

“It would be a little hard for me to retain my impartiality and fairness,” he said.

The potential jurors were all questioned about their politics, media diets and views on Mr. Trump. The lawyers were then expected to scrutinize them for any signs of bias, including old social media posts about the former president.

One prospective juror, who had a long career in law enforcement, seemed unlikely to have made any problematic posts. He disclosed that he only had a flip phone.

“And therefore I do not watch any podcasts,” he says, eliciting laughter from the courtroom on an otherwise tense day.

The prosecution used one of its challenges to oust that juror, who “as a wannabe hockey player” had also complimented Mr. Trump on the skating rink his company used to operate in Central Park. It used another to dismiss a man who said he had been “impressed” with the path the former president forged.

The defense ousted several additional potential jurors, including a woman who once stayed overnight at the home of one of Mr. Trump’s lawyers. Justice Merchan had declined to remove her himself at the request of that lawyer, Susan Necheles, even though Ms. Necheles said the woman’s presence was “awkward.”

The judge removed a woman who had assailed Mr. Trump on social media as a “racist sexist narcissist.” When she reread the posts in court on Thursday, the potential juror added, “Oops. That sounds bad.” She later apologized for the tone of her posts.

One woman who expressed skepticism about Mr. Trump made it onto the jury. She said that she didn’t have strong opinions about Mr. Trump, but added, “I don’t like his persona. How he presents himself in public.”

She then went on, though, “I don’t like some of my co-workers, but I don’t try to sabotage their work,” drawing laughter from the jury box.

Nate Schweber , Maggie Haberman , Wesley Parnell and Matthew Haag contributed reporting.

Ben Protess is an investigative reporter at The Times, writing about public corruption. He has been covering the various criminal investigations into former President Trump and his allies. More about Ben Protess

Jonah E. Bromwich covers criminal justice in New York, with a focus on the Manhattan district attorney’s office and state criminal courts in Manhattan. More about Jonah E. Bromwich

Jesse McKinley is a Times reporter covering upstate New York, courts and politics. More about Jesse McKinley

Kate Christobek is a reporter covering the civil and criminal cases against former president Donald J. Trump for The Times. More about Kate Christobek

Our Coverage of the Trump Hush-Money Trial

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As prosecutors argued that Trump had repeatedly broken a gag order , they called one episode “very troubling”  — his sharing of a commentator’s quote disparaging prospective jurors as clandestine operators for the left.

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