Using Litany in a Sentence: Why Your English Teacher Was Probably Half Wrong

Using Litany in a Sentence: Why Your English Teacher Was Probably Half Wrong

Ever feel like you’re just listing stuff? You know the feeling. You’re complaining about your boss, or maybe your car is making that weird rattling noise again, and suddenly you’ve got a dozen grievances stacked up like a game of Tetris gone wrong. You might say you have a litany of problems. But here’s the thing: most people use the word "litany" as a fancy synonym for "list." It’s not. Well, not exactly.

If you want to use litany in a sentence without sounding like you’re trying too hard or—worse—using it incorrectly, you have to understand the weight behind it. It’s a heavy word. It’s got history. It’s got rhythm.

Historically, a litany wasn't just a grocery list of complaints. It started in the church. Specifically, the Christian church. It’s a form of prayer consisting of a series of petitions. Think of a leader saying something and a whole congregation chanting back. It’s repetitive. It’s rhythmic. It’s almost hypnotic. When you use it today, even in a secular way, that echo of repetition should still be there.

The Secret Sauce of Using Litany in a Sentence

Most dictionaries, like Merriam-Webster or Oxford, will tell you a litany is a "sizeable series or set." That’s the boring definition. If you’re writing a novel or an essay and you want it to pop, you need to lean into the feeling of the word. A litany isn't just a list; it’s a list that feels like it’s never going to end. It’s tedious. It’s repetitive. It’s a slog.

Let's look at a quick example: "He offered a litany of excuses for being late."

That works. It’s fine. But it’s a bit dry, right? To make it human-quality, you might say: "Before he even got his coat off, Jeff launched into the same old litany of excuses—the traffic on the I-95, the broken alarm clock, the dog’s sudden digestive crisis—until I stopped listening."

See the difference? The second one captures the vibe. It’s a performance. It’s a ritual.

Where People Trip Up

The biggest mistake is using "litany" for something positive without a very specific reason. You rarely hear about a "litany of blessings" unless the speaker is being ironic or describing a very formal religious ceremony. Usually, a litany is a "litany of woes," a "litany of failures," or a "litany of complaints." It’s a word that lives in the shadows. It’s for the stuff that wears you down.

I once read a sports column where the writer mentioned a "litany of touchdowns." It felt weird. Like wearing a tuxedo to a backyard BBQ. A litany implies a certain drone-like quality. Touchdowns are exciting! Unless the touchdowns were so frequent they became boring—which, hey, maybe if you’re a Patriots hater—it just doesn't fit the emotional profile of the word.

Real-World Contexts That Actually Work

If you’re looking to drop litany in a sentence during a business meeting or in a piece of creative writing, context is king. Honestly, the word thrives in bureaucratic settings.

Think about the last time you dealt with a government agency. You probably faced a litany of regulations. The word suggests that the regulations aren't just numerous; they are repetitive and soul-crushing.

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  1. "The CEO’s speech was a predictable litany of corporate buzzwords that meant absolutely nothing to the people on the factory floor."
  2. "During the trial, the prosecution presented a litany of evidence that left the defense scrambling for a foothold."
  3. "She didn't just tell me she was sad; she recited a litany of every wrong ever done to her since the third grade."

The third example is my favorite. It captures that "recital" aspect. A litany is often something people have memorized. It’s a script. When someone gives you a litany of reasons why they can’t go out tonight, they aren't thinking of them on the fly. They’ve got them ready. They’ve said them before.

The Etymology Bit (Don't Sleep on This)

The word comes from the Greek litaneia, which basically means "entreaty." We’re talking 13th-century stuff here. In the Middle Ages, if the crops failed or a plague was coming, the village would head to the church for a litany. It was a desperate, repetitive plea for help.

"Lord, deliver us."
"Lord, deliver us."
"Lord, deliver us."

When you use the word now, you’re tapping into centuries of that rhythmic desperation. That’s why using it for a "litany of groceries" feels so small. Unless, of course, you’re trying to be funny. "The toddler provided a litany of demands: juice, Paw Patrol, the blue cup, not the red cup, and the sudden, urgent need for a marshmallow." That works because the contrast is humorous.

How to Avoid "AI-Speak" When Using Litany

If you want your writing to sound like a person wrote it, stop trying to make every sentence perfect. AI loves a "litany of [X], [Y], and [Z]" structure. It’s predictable. Humans are messy.

Instead of a perfect list, interrupt yourself.

"The coach went through his usual litany—the lack of hustle, the missed free throws, you know the drill—but this time, nobody was looking at the floor."

The "you know the drill" part makes it sound like a real person said it. It acknowledges that a litany is something we’ve all heard before. It’s a shared experience of boredom or frustration.

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Nuance and Tone Shift

There’s a subtle difference between a "litany" and an "account." An account is usually factual. A litany is performative. If a doctor gives you an account of your injuries, they are being clinical. If they give you a litany of your health failings, they are probably lecturing you.

Watch out for overusing it, though. It’s a "power word." Like a strong spice, a little goes a long way. If you use "litany" three times in one article, you’re going to sound like a Victorian novelist who’s had too much coffee. Use it once. Use it well. Make it count.

Actionable Steps for Your Vocabulary

If you’re serious about mastering this, don't just memorize the definition. Feel the word. Next time you’re stuck in a long, repetitive meeting, think to yourself: "This is a litany of wasted hours."

  • Check the "Vibe": Is the list you’re describing negative, repetitive, or formal? If yes, "litany" is your friend.
  • Vary the Verbs: Don't just "have" a litany. You recite a litany. You endure a litany. You launch into a litany.
  • Watch the Rhythm: Because the word itself is rhythmic (lit-a-ny), it sounds best in a sentence that has a bit of flow. Avoid choppy sentences around it.

You've probably noticed by now that "litany" carries a certain air of sophistication. It’s a great word for when you want to sound smart without being "academic." It’s grounded in the real world—the world of tired parents, frustrated employees, and people who are just plain fed up.

When you sit down to write, don't overthink it. Just remember that a litany is more than a list. It’s a ritual of words. Whether you’re writing a blog post, a short story, or just a spicy email to your HOA, using litany in a sentence correctly gives your prose a weight and a history that "list" or "series" just can't touch.

Next Steps for Better Writing

  1. Read out loud. The word litany is auditory. If the sentence doesn't sound like a chant or a rhythmic drone when you say it, try rephrasing.
  2. Audit your synonyms. If you find yourself using "plethora" or "myriad," see if "litany" actually fits the tone better. Often, we use "plethora" when we really mean a tedious amount—which is exactly where litany shines.
  3. Practice the "Dread" factor. Write three sentences where the character is bored or annoyed. Use the word litany in at least one of them to see how it heightens the mood of frustration.