Your Prose Style Has a Name: Do You Want to Know What it's Called?
Explore the two styles of fiction writing most authors have never heard of

When I was nineteen, I read a NYT bestselling memoir. The story was shocking, harrowing, and unputdownable. I remember telling a close, speed-reader friend of mine how “well-written” it was. Intrigued, she immediately went and read it. She came back to report that yes, it was gripping, but it wasn’t well-written. I thought this was a bit of a snobbish remark because, well, is was written by a bestselling author with a successful career as a journalist for the New York Times, so she had to be good at writing—right?
In the following years, after reading more broadly, particularly the classics, my tastes elevated and I concluded that my friend was right. That memoir was decently written, but it wasn’t astonishing. At the time, I didn’t have the repertoire to judge the difference between a compelling page-turner and well-written prose.
But what constitutes “good writing”? Does good writing come down to voice and aesthetic? Or clarity and minimalism? What is that chef’s kiss ingredient that makes the prose just so *pinches fingers and relaxes eyelids* mmm-hmm? This is a difficult question to answer because good writing is found in a variety of styles, voices, and expressions. But often good writing is just one of those things that one begins to recognize intuitively rather than filtering it through a rigid set of rules. It’s one of those you-know-it-when-you-see-it type things.
Of course, writing is also story i.e. characters, setting, plot, and themes, but I’m specifically referring to prose here. I do think there are methods to determine the merit of a story itself, though I will not be touching on that today. That is a feast of a topic deserving of a series. This essay is more like grapefruit: fresh, bite-size, compartmentalized, and creatively healthful.
The Two Types of Prose
There are two primary styles of prose writing: transparent prose and stained glass prose. Now if you’ve been subscribed here for a while, you may be aware that I occasionally share rants opinions about stuff and things (and the stuff I dislike I stuff inside the things) but on this topic specifically, I’m actually not going to pick a side because I truly love both.
I read articles and skimmed several forums in preparation for this essay and what I found fascinating is that few sources seemed to agree upon which style is more literary or more commercial. The contradicting opinions were quite funny. One said this, the next said that, so really, does anyone have the answer? It’s my take that both styles have existed for centuries and both have found their way into literary and commercial fiction for different reasons. One is not better or more deserving of acclaim than the other because regardless of style, it still comes down to that je ne sais quo of the writing itself.
Transparent Prose
“Good prose should be transparent, like a window pane.” - George Orwell
Transparent prose—sometimes called invisible or windowpane prose—is the idea that prose should read like a clear window by which the reader is peering through at the unfolding story. Stylistic choice does not distract, the sentences need no adornment, and description is kept to a minimum.
“Transparent” authors include: Mark Twain, John Steinbeck, Ernest Hemingway, Harper Lee, Agatha Christie, Elizabeth Marie Pope, J.K. Rowling, C.S. Lewis, and Elizabeth George Speare.
Examples:
For reasons unfathomable to most of the experienced prophets in Maycomb County, autumn turned to winter that year. — Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird
The impossible could not have happened, therefore the impossible must be possible in spite of appearances. ― Agatha Christie, Murder on the Orient Express
Jim said that bees won’t sting idiots, but I didn’t believe that, because I tried them lots of times myself and they wouldn’t sting me. ― Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
The Beavers and the children didn’t know what to do or say when they saw him...for when they tried to look at Aslan’s face, they just caught a glimpse of the golden mane and the great, royal, solemn, overwhelming eyes; and then they found they couldn’t look at him and went all trembly. — C.S. Lewis, The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe
Notice the minimalism and perfect word choice: “experienced prophets,” “sting idiots.” This honest, straightforward use of language invites me to sit close to these characters, to hear their unadorned thoughts and the inflections in their voices. There is a spellbinding simplicity in the prose here.
Another author who is often praised for his transparent prose is Brandon Sanderson, and here I fail to celebrate along with the masses. Sanderson’s prose is transparent, yes, but its also repetitive and lacks the minimalism and voice that make transparent prose appealing to me. Transparent prose is utilitarian and economical. Sanderson’s prose is neither. What he communicates in one paragraph is reiterated again and again across his massive tomes in ways that feel both excessive and skimmable. This overindulgence draws my attention to the author rather than deflects it. So yes, Sanderson uses transparent prose, but perhaps not to great effect, because he misses key aspects of writing strong transparent prose.
Potential Pitfalls:
Overly simplistic sentences. “…the completely transparent windowpane lies the danger of overly simplistic language that challenges no one, reminiscent of Dick and Jane with its monotonous repetition and simplicity: Jane said, ‘Look at Spot. Look at Spot run. Funny Spot.’” — Amber A. Logan, Midwest Romance Writers
Telling too much and not showing enough. Readers don’t want to be told everything the character is thinking and feeling; they still want subtext.
Stained Glass
“All art constantly aspires towards the condition of music...the end is not distinct from the means, the subject from the expression; they inhere in and completely saturate each other.” — Walter Pater, The Renaissance
I love visiting old cathedrals. The art, symbolism, and beauty found in the architecture draws my thoughts to things higher than myself, inviting revelation, and quiet contemplation. The term “stained glass prose” is well named because the language is often inviting something deeper within the reader. This style is known for being intricate, lyrical, descriptive, and aesthetically focused. It is the style of symbolism and metaphor which allows the reader to feel the language rather than specifically stating the feeling.
“Stained glass” authors: Dodie Smith, Ursula K. Le Guin, Gene Wolfe, Maggie Stiefvater, Oscar Wilde, Virginia Woolf, and J.R.R. Tolkien.
Examples:
Love doesn’t just sit there, like a stone, it has to be made, like bread; remade all the time, made new. ― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Lathe of Heaven
In the middle of all this, as Sean slips out of his jacket, he looks over his shoulder at me and he smiles at me, just a glancing, faint thing before he turns back to Tommy. I'm quite happy for that smile, because Dad told me once you should be grateful for the gifts that are the rarest. ― Maggie Stiefvater, The Scorpio Races
Books are the mirrors of the soul. ― Virginia Woolf, Between the Acts
He sounded faintly sad. Perhaps he finds beauty saddening — I do myself sometimes. Once when I was quite little I asked father why this was and he explained that it was due to our knowledge of beauty’s evanescence, which reminds us that we ourselves shall die. Then he said I was probably too young to understand him; but I understood perfectly.― Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle
Notice how the language tends more toward emotion and imagery here. Likening bread to love, smiles to gifts, beauty to sadness. Stained glass prose paint a picture of emotion through the senses.
Can you do both?
Most authors have a primary style that is knit into the fabric of their authorial voice but I think there’s room to dip ones toe into a different style if the narrative calls for it. Elizabeth George Speare mostly writes in transparent prose, but here is a passage from her book, The Witch of Blackbird Pond, which feels quite stained glass to me:
The maple tree in front of the doorstep burned like a gigantic red torch. The oaks along the roadway glowed yellow and bronze. The fields stretched like a carpet of jewels, emerald and topaz and garnet. Everywhere she walked the color shouted and sang around her. The dried brown leaves crackled beneath her feet and gave off a delicious smoky fragrance. No one had ever told her about autumn in New England. The excitement of it beat in her blood. Every morning she woke with a new confidence and buoyancy she could not explain. In October any wonderful unexpected thing might be possible. ― Elizabeth George Speare, The Witch of Blackbird Pond
I was writing stained glass prose before I knew it had a name. When I started drafting my fantasy series with both male and female dual POV, I tried to make the prose in the MMC’s chapters lean more transparent and the FMC’s more stained glass. Overall the style was still stained glass (because that’s just my voice and compulsory in a way I can’t help) but it was an intentional decision on my part to give the MMC less metaphor and sensory language to reflect his inner world in a way that felt authentic to his character.
Potential Pitfalls:
Purple prose. Where the author is so swept up in the beauty of the language that the prose is flowery verbosity.
Too much showing. The author draws attention to themselves with unnecessary detail and metaphor the readers neither wants nor needs.
Stained Glass Prose
The following are examples kindly submitted for this essay by my author friends.
YA Fantasy
Taking the path that wound by the pond and edged the woods, I tried to focus on my promising future far from Windwick. The nearer I grew to the cottage, however, the more surprised I was by my body’s reaction. My pulse slowed as if drugged. This place held an enchantment in its roots, enticing me to forget what was at stake if I stayed. — Emily Barnett, A Work-in-Progress
YA Contemporary
The sky is cloudless when black stars explode. No, not stars—birds. Hundreds gather in a unit, swirling in their own gravity, morphing in rhythm with each other before breaking apart and scattering, turning into shrapnel against the fiery fabric of the sky. - Hannah Stone, Erase the Empty Sky releasing May 2026
Transparent Prose
Adult Epic Fantasy
Boyer wasn’t certain about much in life, but he knew for a fact that the man standing before him was going to die. It would be easy, really. A flick or two of his knife and years of carefully contrived apathy is all it would take. Boyer had lost count of how many bodies he’d dropped since the age of fourteen, and it’d been a long twenty-one years since he’d sold his soul to the dragon-god of death. — Anne J. Hill, Thorn Tower, an upcoming debut
Upmarket Contemporary Fiction
Stefanie put Sebastian in the baby carrier facing out and did some laundry. Then she lugged his bouncy chair into the bathroom, strapped him in, and took the quickest of showers, talking to him the whole time so he wouldn’t cry. After her shower, she took Sebastian in the living room for tummy time, hurriedly washed a few dishes, and then it was time to pick up Juniper from pre-school.
As she snapped his car seat into its base, Stefanie traced her finger down Sebastian’s little nose. “I love you, my sweet special boy,” she whispered. “I’m sorry we have to go in the car. I know you don’t like it.” He gazed up at her and gurgled. “Ga-ga-g.”
“Can you say Mama?” she asked in the singsong voice that came out of her without her even meaning for it to. “Ma-ma-ma? Ma-ma-ma?”
“Ba-ba,” he offered, and she smiled at him. — Eva Langston, A Work-in-Progress
Chat with me in the comments!
Have you heard of transparent or stained glass prose before? Which do you prefer to read and/or write? I’d love to know your thoughts!
P.S. If you’re interested in some actionable tips on how to polish your prose see my recent essays: The Seven Deadly Sins of Prose Writing (and How to Write More Heavenly Sentences) and How to Writer Better Sensory Description.
Light,
Bethany





Thanks for giving me lots to think about, this morning! I'm not sure where my writing falls at this point. When I was in my teens and early twenties, I definitely aspired to a more "stained glass" writing style, thinking I was being more mature and sophisticated with my language. But in reality, I don't think it was ever my natural bent. I think I was just being pretentious.
It's so fascinating to me how we grow as writers. Some people's writing, as it matures, takes on a beautiful "stained glass" style that delights readers with all of its nuances. For others, that maturing process looks different. It looks like cultivating restraint, learning to simplify and sharpen language. Like you've said, neither style is superior to the other. They're just different. Both styles require a lot of skill and intentional practice to do well.
Personally, the more I have grown as a reader and writer, the more I have come to value prose that is [deceptively] simple and straightforward. But that's just me. As a reader, I've found that if I have to work too hard to understand what's being communicated at the sentence level, then I don't feel like I'm able to fully inhabit the story, and that makes it harder to appreciate (or even to see) whatever subtext is at work. As a writer, then, maturing has meant learning to write more simply and honestly than I used to, instead of trying too hard to sound clever. My goal isn't to impress readers; it's to delight them, and perhaps even to help them feel seen.
This was so insightful - and much needed in the moment! I feel I’m a stained glass writer who can slip into the flowery verbosity, but now I’m going to do a transparent window edit of my work to see where I really go rose garden!