The job of a writer is to not waste words.
No superfluous sentences: this is what Hardy’s Far from the Madding Crowd taught me about writing. Hardy’s prose is dense—every word serves a purpose, and every sentence either delights, amuses, or scares the reader, uncovers hidden information or moves the plot forward.
This is not an endorsement of baroque fireworks—what I took from Hardy isn’t that I should add things that impress my reader, but that I should remove anything that doesn’t serve a purpose.
Hardy’s writing is way too flowery for our post-Victorian age (except if done with irony), but I’m not urging you to copy his style, either. I’m telling you to understand his parsimony.