Hunting Adjectives with Elephant Guns

Bonnie's post on Monday made me sit up and pay attention. Bonnie climbed into the bully pulpit for the sake of nouns, the building blocks readers use to create story worlds and those shadows we all hope to leave with our readers. (Sharon's post on Wednesday made me rethink my daily words, the ones I fling about recklessly. Thanks for that, friend. I am resolved to do better.)

And so I went a-hunting for adjectives as she had done. I found few extraneous uses, but they're there. I also admired strong nouns like never before.

This was such a powerful exercise that I've done the work for you. I've collected seven random samples from novels we've all loved. Some are more adjective-rich than others. I hope you'll look at these 50-word snippets and help me decide if any of the adjectives should be scratched, or if a more descriptive noun could have been used.

Remember, adjectives aren't the bad guys. We do tend to lean heavily on them in our writing. The trick is to use the strongest noun possible (cottage rather than house; beret rather than hat) to minimize the need to slow-down-the-action adjectives.

Yep, this is how writers have fun, so jump in!

[Note: I italicized the adjectives for you. I didn't italicize adjectives with linking verbs. That makes things messy but does show what a complex task lay before us each day. Also, I have missed a few or thousands.]

I finished reading the letter and closed my eyes. I was thinking, So many tears for Elder Sister, so much joy for me. I was grateful that we followed the custom of my not falling into your husband's house until just before the birth of your first child. I still had...Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, Lisa See

We had been wandering for so long I forgot what it was like to live within the walls or sleep through the night. In that time I lost all I might have possessed if Jerusalem had not fallen: a husband, a family, a future of my own. My girlhood disappeared in...The Dovekeepers, Alice Hoffman

A day after the Evers funeral, Miss Leefolt's mama stop by for a visit. She live up in Greenwood, Mississippi, and she driving down to New Orleans. She don't knock. Miss Fredericks just waltz on in the living room where I'm ironing. She give me a lemony smile. I go...The Help, Kathryn Stockett

When he was pushed out by the rest of his family, the relief struggled inside him like an obscenity. It was something he didn't want to feel, but nonetheless, he felt it with such gusto it made him want to throw up. How could he? How could he? But he did...The Book Thief, Markus Zusak

Restlessness rippled through the schoolroom like waves of wind through wheat. A teacher on a discipline rampage can be a fearsome thing; every student ever born knows that. But we never expected that kind of behavior from Morrie. Nonetheless he seemed to go out of his way to pick fault...The Whistling Season, Ivan Doig

The polar bears lies on his stomach, head and snout stretched in front of him. In repose he looks harmless--cuddly even, with most of his bulk concentrated in the lower third of his body. He takes a deep, halting breath and then exhales a long, rumbling groan. Poor thing. Water for Elephants, Sara Gruen
Note: Some would have italicized polar bear, but when it's a species, as the animals in the following example, I prefer to read the two-word phrase as a noun.

The Stark River flowed around the oxbow at Murrayville the way blood flowed through Margo Crane's heart. She rowed upstream to see wood ducks, canvasbacks, and ospreys and to search for tiger salamanders in the ferns. She drifted downstream to find painted turtles sunning on fallen trees...Once Upon a River, Bonnie Jo Campbell

Did any of our authors go crazy with adjectives? Did they use adjectives when a strong noun would have been more powerful? Look at your own writing, too. Is this a new awareness for you? What are you doing this weekend? I'm going to a mineral hot springs with the family. Thanks for spending time with us. We so enjoy your company.

Be it resolved . . .

Latayne certainly got us off to a great start this year with her "We suspected it all along" article last Monday, and my writing sisters have kept the pace. Latayne's revelation that novels can actually leave a physical shadow in the brain that stays with the reader for days was an amazing bit of information. As her title suggested, we suspected it all along. And we've always known that about words anyway.

I read another tremendous post about words soon after reading Latayne's post. I quote from Ann Voskamp's A Holy Experience blog post titled: Dear Kids: What you need to know about Duck Dynasty, Justine Sacco and Christmas. I highly recommend you read the entire post. But this is what leapt out at me:

"Words leave your mouth, your keyboard, but words don't ever expire quietly in a void --- they always explode in hearts."

That is absolute truth. Words are not innocuous. Ever. They impact on some level, even if it's just to inform. If you doubt that, consider this: "In the beginning was the Word." That's how the Apostle John, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, chose to define Christ in the opening words of his gospel. There are so many nouns he could have used instead: In the beginning was the Son of God, the Redeemer, the Light of the World, the Morning Star, the Alpha and Omega. And on and on. But in the beginning was the Word --- which spoke into existence all that is --- and that Word has resonated throughout the universe ever since.

Words matter. The ones we speak and the ones we write. If words are our calling, we have an obligation to use them wisely. Ecclesiastes 12:11 says, "The words of the wise prod us to live well.
They’re like nails hammered home, holding life together." On Wednesday, Debbie talked about her need to "stick with books that include some measure of hope." I'm so with Debbie on that. A novel can take me to the inferno, but if it gives me reason to hope I'll stay with it to the very end. That's what I want to accomplish with my writing. To bring hope to my readers, to leave a shadow on their brains that will point them in the right direction if the need arises. I know I fall short, but it's what I strive for.

But I not only want to write things that make a difference, I want to speak them. I've made one New Year's resolution that I've kept as far as I recall. It was 18 years ago, and the resolution was to begin wearing lipstick. You heard me right. I didn't mind the look of lipstick, but I didn't like the feel of it on my lips. My husband, on the other hand, liked me in lipstick. So I resolved to begin wearing it, and I have ever since. Not all day, every day, but certainly when I go outside my front door.

This year I made another New Year's resolution, one a bit more important than lipstick, and that's to be more positive in my attitude. The past few years have been difficult, and they've worn on me. Often, it's been reflected in my words. So I resolved on New Year's morning to keep my language positive, and to better practice the faith I've worked so hard to develop over the years. If my words are going to explode in someone's heart, I want them to bring life, not death; to encourage, not defeat.

 Only a handful of novels I've read in my life have really impacted me, have left an enduring shadow. The first was To Kill a Mockingbird, which I read in high school way back when. Sadly, most novels I've read are forgettable. They entertain for the moment, but that's it. What creates a really distinctive novel for you? Can you share a title?

We Need to Talk About Your Adjectives

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.

One.

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. 

Losing Our Way

I think I'll reel for a long time after what Latayne wrote on Monday: that reading a novel can leave a "shadow" in the brain that is detectable in neural scans. She's right: We did suspect all along, but to learn that the effect has been spotted by researchers! If they'd photographed angels, I'd feel hardly less wonder.

Did you ask yourself, reading this revelation, if that shadow on the brain created any noticeable effect on the reader's daily life? It turns out, there is an effect, and researchers David Comer Kidd and Emanuele Castano have noticed: People who read a certain kind of book - the kind we tend to like best here at Novel Matters - exhibit heightened powers of empathy, the ability to enter into another person's experience and emotion - not to feel for them, but with them.



But not just any book delivers the potion. You won't find it in non-fiction (surprised?) and you won't find it in every kind of fiction, either. David Comer Kidd observed, "Some writing is what you call 'writerly', you fill in the gaps and participate, and some is 'readerly', and you're entertained. We tend to see 'readerly' more in genre fiction like adventure, romance and thrillers, where the author dictates your experience as a reader. Literary* [writerly] fiction lets you go into a new environment and you have to find your own way."

It makes sense, doesn't it? A relationship with a character that forces you to "find your way" would make good practice for a real human relationship that demands the same. Another researcher, Philip Davies, took it a bit further: "The thing about novels is that they give you a view of an inner world that's not on show. Often what you learn from novels is to be a bit baffled."

None of which will simplify your life. But that may not be the point.

I'll bet you've read some books that have led you into the woods a bit - in a good way. Got any experiences to share? Please do tell. We always love to read what you have to say. 

*See that? He used the "L" word. 

I Once Tackled Dracula...

After reading Latayne’s post on Monday on how fiction imprints our brains, and we crawl into the skin of protagonists, the pieces fell together for me. I started thinking of all the books that had left a ‘shadow’ on my outlook for days at a time.  I always suspected that there was a real explanation for it.  I’m not just a lightweight about certain books after all - they really were imprinting on me.

I once tackled Dracula. Figuratively speaking, of course.  I wanted to know what made it a classic.  I stared bald-eyed for several chapters like the witness of a horrific accident who couldn’t look away until a major transition came along and I finally blinked. I promptly deleted it from my Kindle.  

Later, I picked up The Historian.  I thought I could handle it, really I could, but the impressions, the shadows latched onto my brain.  I felt such a foreboding that sat heavy on my mind and needled its way into my dreams at night. The writing was very good, the tension exquisite, and I put it back on my bookshelf, leaving a superfluous character to her fate.  She was expendable and would die to prove the gravity of the situation.  I couldn’t be a witness to it.

There is nothing that says I have to let good writing go to my head.

I have to stick with books that include some measure of hope.  Intense, unpredictable and drag you close to the edge, yes, but a flicker of hope has to be present.  They can be everyday characters with nothing to recommend them except that they showed me how to live honorably in the world, making sometimes costly, sacrificial choices in the end.  

You could argue that both Dracula and The Historian have resolutions with these elements, and since I wasn’t willing to stick it out, I don’t know.  But the overriding impression was of an evil so big that I felt it dimming my normal outlook on life and that was enough for me.  It may not have been so much for you.

I guess you just have to know yourself.

One very special, positive impression that I experienced was from The Lord of the Rings (one among many).  In this day and age we greatly prize freedom, and the knowledge we have of kings and kingdoms are often as figureheads only.  But when the young hobbits swore fealty to the kings and laid their weapons at their feet, I finally understood the Bible references to Christ and His kingdom. More than understood - I felt the absolute power of it.  It’s about choosing to give up your freedom to accept the will of Someone greater.  That impression colored my outlook for a long time and was welcome.

What books have left a memorable impression on you, for good or bad? Did you stick it out? We’d love to hear.

We suspected it all along. . .

Everyone knows that reading a novel can change history. Uncle Tom’s Cabin, for instance, “helped lay the groundwork for the American Civil War,” according to historian Will Kaufman. Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle revolutionized food safety at the beginning of the twentieth century.

Novels change history by changing minds. But did you know that reading a novel can actually physically change your brain?

As documented in the academic journal Brain Connectivity, scientists measured the brains of readers with functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI).

The non-profit site Futurity interviewed the lead scientist of the study, Gregory Burns, who had two astonishing findings.

Berns: “The neural changes that we found associated with physical sensation and movement systems suggest that reading a novel can transport you into the body of the protagonist. . . We already knew that good stories can put you in someone else’s shoes in a figurative sense. Now we’re seeing that something may also be happening biologically.”

But even more amazing, the study documented that reading a novel leaves a kind of “shadow” in the brain, as demonstrated by neural scans, that shows that for days after finishing a novel, the book keeps having a measurable physical effect on the brain.

So, novels change people, mentally and physically.

As something as insubstantial, as ephemeral, as a collection of words continues to change the brain for days afterwards.

Ah, what a revelation.

And for us as authors, what a weight of responsibility.

Happy New Year

Happy 2014!

We will be back on Monday, January 6th.

We hope you had a wonderful, relaxing, rejuvenating holiday break. We sure did, and we're coming back filled with anticipation for what the year will hold for all of us Novel Matters friends.