Adverbs. We’ve made a big deal about them in recent years.
Readers, it has been declared, hate them (fine, though I strongly suspect most
don’t care that much if they enjoy the story), They weaken prose, so off with their
heads.
I could argue that well-chosen adverbs make for punchy prose
packed with panache (just ask Arthur Plotnik), but the general point is well
made. Killing off the “ly” words does tidy up the place. And writers have
complied. We’ve had our ah-ha moments and killed off swaths of “ly” words.
Before we take too deep a bow for our writerly stroke of
genius, I draw your attention to the forgotten noun. Or, more accurately, the
flabby adjective your nouns are resting on like sleeping old men atop waterbeds.
Nouns matter.
Last week Latyane pointed us to some neuroscience experiments that have recorded physical effects on the brain from reading
fiction. This makes sense because most complex tasks inflict physical changes
in the brain and reading fiction—words that are complex symbols that represent
symbols of real things—is nothing if not complex.
I’ve pounded the noun drum before
and I’m tattooing again in the context of thelingering shadows in a reader’s
brain. When we read, we accomplish an astonishing array of tasks all without
moving a muscle. Our brain scans words on a page, interprets the symbols
correctly, and builds a complex system that, if it were extracted from a
reader’s brain, would resemble a close proximity to real life with all its
subtlety, brutality, and interact relationships. Reading is an act of stunning
creativity. And what aids
readers in their creative act is nouns they can build
on.
Recently I read a new writer’s attempt to create a scene.
There were the usual newbie mistakes, including a floating POV, overly
descriptive prose, and telling rather than showing. Still, it was the writer’s
use of adjectives that stood out to me. In two sentences the writer used nine
adjectives.
Nine.
I panicked a little. Went to my work-in-progress and scanned
the manuscript looking for adjectives. I found a sample roughly the same length
as the one with all the adjectives. Because I suspected I was a more
experienced writer, I decided to count the adjectives in four sentences, rather
than two.
The adjective? Bowline.
Maybe I was just lucky. I chose another passage, another
four sentences.
Zero.
Then I hunted up some favorite novels, the kinds that have
stayed with me and played out in my memory for years.
I’m certain you can guess the outcome.
Nouns are the objects in which our brains build the worlds
suggested to us in novels. Shadow-makers. The stronger the noun, the more
certain the building blocks.
Adjectives are helpful when clarity is needed.
“His left arm.”
“She rolled into a protective ball.”
Precision is the goal for all writing—better to use a
precise noun than to try to prop it up with an adjective.
So, where is the fun in adjectives? Modern writing is full
of them (thank heavens!), and it’s important that we don’t leave this article
thinking the point is to kill all the adjectives and leave it at that.
Kill the flabby ones and replace the noun it was propping
up. Then, have some fun with adjectives, using them freely and creatively in
ways that help readers build worlds in their imaginations.
Here is an example from my current work-in-progress, Trillium, with the adjectives
highlighted:
I was drowning. Being eaten alive
by a shallow creek. Dying beside a
cow, of all things. No one believes they would die beside a cow. Every breath
found only liquid. I thrashed, kicking my legs while trying to free my right arm from the elbow-deep mud, which meant pushing down with my left arm, sinking it deeper into the
muck.
There was a splash. Loud. Nearby. Not made by me. I was kicking in mud, and this was the
sound of water. My name. Drawn out like a yodel, Fiiiioooooooooooona. Splash.
Twice more. My yodel name, then
splash. “Grab the rope!”
Rope. Cory. Help.
Hit your manuscripts and go adjective hunting. If you want,
come back and tell us how it went. How many frivolous ones did you kill? What
about the creative uses? Can you think of a novel you read that dragged you
down in adjectives? Share your thoughts, examples, grousings, and chocolate
cookies in the comment section.





















