This bothers me a lot. Like, A LOT. In my own writing, and occasionally in some books I've read. Which is rare. Because, of course. Books. BOOKS. Published books. They've been edited prior to being published. Wait, before they've been edited, they've been written by writers who possess some kind of a gargantuan wealth of language. Plus, they went through countless drafts. So. Back to my own writing. What I'm talking about is a certain stagnation of prose. Just this inability to break out of the repetitiveness of "She said" and "He said" or "She walked" and "He walked" or "The sky was blue" and "The grass was green" and whatever other traps you fall into, this scarcity of language that you can feel on your skin. The stupor. The torpor. The feeling inside you, that torturous emotion, that image that is so clear yet is SO FUCKING HARD TO WRITE IN COLORFUL DIFFERENT WAYS!!! 

Well. Guess what. Variety comes with practice.

VARY YOUR LANGUAGE, VARY IT!

How exactly do you do it?