Let me tell you, I used to hate writing topic sentences. Back in high school, I’d sit there staring at my essay draft like it was a calculus problem (and math isn’t my thing either). My English teacher once handed me a paper with “WHERE’S THE GPS??” scribbled in red ink. Turns out, a topic sentence is like giving your reader directions — and I was leaving them lost in a cornfield.
Here’s what I’ve learned since then, mostly through cringey trial and error:
That GPS comment? It stuck with me. Picture this: You’re driving to Target for toothpaste, and Google Maps just says, “Go somewhere.” Useless, right? My early topic sentences were like that. I’d write things like “This paragraph discusses climate change” — vague as a gas station coffee. What worked? Pretending I’m explaining my point to my coffee-addicted college roommate. If she’d stare at me over her Dunkin’ cup and say, “…Cool story, but what’s your point?” I rewrote it.
My messy breakthrough:
I bombed a community college essay hard (RIP my GPA) because every paragraph started with “Another example is…” My professor wrote, “Are you cataloging trivia or making an argument?” Ouch. But she was right. Now I treat topic sentences like Twitter headlines — if it wouldn’t make someone stop scrolling, it’s not sharp enough.
3 things I actually test with my own writing now:
- The “So What?” Test: If my sentence could work for a totally different paragraph (like “Social media impacts society”), it’s too floppy. Nail it down: “TikTok’s algorithm fuels teen burnout by glorifying 18-hour study routines.”
- The Standalone Rule: Highlight just your topic sentence. Can your cousin in Ohio get the gist? If not, add context. (Mine once texted, “Wait, are you pro-goat or anti-goat?” after reading one of my farm blog drafts. Lesson learned.)
- Steal from fiction: Novelists hook you fast. I mimic that urgency. Instead of “This paragraph covers recycling,” try “Portland’s plastic bottle recycling program accidentally increased Starbucks cup waste by 200%.” Specificity is your friend.
Real talk: Your first draft’s topic sentences will probably suck. Mine still do sometimes! I’ve spent 20 minutes agonizing over a single sentence while my Keurig overflowed. But here’s the secret — write the rest of the paragraph first. Half the time, your last sentence is the real gem. Copy-paste it to the top, tweak, and suddenly you sound like you’ve got your life together.
One last thing: If you’re stuck, rant your point out loud into your iPhone Notes app. I’ve done this in the Trader Joe’s parking lot more times than I’d like to admit. Play it back and transcribe the passionate parts. Topic sentences thrive on that raw “I need to say this” energy.
You’ve got this. And if all else fails, just ask: What’s the one thing I’d yell through a megaphone about this paragraph? Start there, then edit the megaphone out. 😉