Diction refers to an author's word choice — the specific words selected over available alternatives — and is the most granular unit of stylistic analysis. Style is the broader pattern of linguistic choices that characterizes a writer's work: sentence length, syntactic complexity, register (formal/informal/colloquial), use of abstraction versus concreteness, and figurative density. Analyzing diction requires attention to denotation (dictionary meaning) and connotation (emotional and cultural associations) and to the gap between words that mean 'the same thing' but produce very different effects.
Take a passage and systematically substitute synonyms for key words, then ask why the author's original choice is more effective. The answer to that question is your stylistic analysis.
Every word in a text is a choice made from a set of alternatives. The writer who describes a character's face as "weathered" rather than "wrinkled" or "aged" or "lined" has selected one word from a small cluster of near-synonyms, and each member of that cluster would produce a slightly different text. Diction analysis is the practice of asking: why this word, not that one? What does this choice accomplish that the alternatives could not?
To answer that question well, you need to distinguish denotation from connotation. Denotation is the dictionary definition — the neutral, literal meaning. Connotation is the emotional, cultural, and associative meaning a word carries from its history of use. "Deceased," "dead," "departed," and "gone" all denote the same thing, but they connote very different relationships to death: clinical distance, blunt directness, religious comfort, casual understatement. A close reader notices these layers and asks what the author's choice signals about voice, attitude, and meaning.
Style operates at a larger scale than individual words. It is the cumulative pattern of a writer's choices — not just word choice but also sentence length, syntactic complexity, the ratio of abstraction to concrete detail, and register (the level of formality). A writer whose sentences are short, concrete, and declarative creates a very different reading experience than one who favors long, subordinated, Latinate constructions. Both are styles; neither is inherently superior. What matters analytically is whether the style serves the text's purposes.
The most common analytical failure is vagueness. Saying "the author uses descriptive language" or "the author's word choice is effective" tells your reader nothing. A strong diction observation is specific: it names the word (or pattern of words), describes the connotation or register, and explains what effect that choice creates in the reader or what it contributes to tone, characterization, or argument. "The repeated use of monosyllabic verbs — 'cut,' 'hit,' 'snap' — creates a staccato rhythm that mirrors the character's frantic state" is a diction observation. "The author uses vivid verbs" is not.
Remember also that diction connects to the prerequisites you've already studied. Close reading gives you the attention to notice individual words. Figurative language shows how connotation can be extended metaphorically. Register analysis — knowing that a word is formal, colloquial, technical, or archaic — tells you about the implied relationship between writer and reader. All of these lenses work together when you analyze style.
Topics in reflective domains aren't scored by quiz answers. Read, reflect, and mark when you've thought it through.