Monday, September 5, 2011

The Bane of My Writing Existence: -ly Adverbs

  Multiple writing books that I have read advise against using -ly adverbs, but none do so in such detail as Self-Editing for Fiction Writers by Renni Brown and Dave King, which I reviewed here. I still highly recommend it as a guide for new writers looking for tips on fiction writing mechanics.
     In their chapter on dialogue, the authors spend significant time showing that new writers are especially tempted to use adverbs when it comes to dialogue. Then they show why those -ly adverbs are unnecessary and should be avoided. For example, in my novel, I used the following line:


     “Get up, girl, and stop blithering!” The voice exclaimed angrily as Vixa found herself yanked to her feet by her arm. 
      
    A rewrite eliminating the unnecessary adverb becomes:

     "Get up, girl, and stop blithering!" The voice exclaimed as Vixa found herself yanked to her feet by her arm.
      
In that sentence, "angrily" is not a necessary word, since it is obvious from the context that the speaker is angry. "Angrily" is explaining dialogue that does not need explaining, and the authors of Self-Editing for Fiction Writers say that can be patronizing and distracting to readers if done over and over again.
     In the rewritten sentence, I eliminated the word "angrily" because the line itself indicates anger, between the dialogue itself and the action word "yanked."
     What about sentences where the emotion behind the dialogue is not obvious? The answer Self-Editing for Fiction Writers provides: fix the dialogue so an -ly adverb isn't necessary. It will make the writing more dynamic. I wrote the following line:

“A demon? Samil?” Vixa asked incredulously. “Those are just fables and myths.”

     Let's see what I can do to get rid of the adverb.

"A demon? Samil? You do not truly believe gods and demons walk the earth. All that is just fable and myth!" Vixa said.
     I suppose that is better. Well, at least it interferes less with the dialogue and distracts the reader less. Well, that is the intention. Let me know if that is true.
      Beyond dialogue, the authors of Self-Editing for Fiction Writers advise against using -ly adverbs in almost all situations, since writing can be so much more descriptive without them. The authors believe that almost every instance of an -ly adverb is just lazy writing, since the adverb is just fixing a verb that does not quite fit the circumstance. The writing will be more succinct, descriptive, and sophisticated if a more appropriate verb renders the adverb unnecessary. For instance, from my own writing:

     Without another word, Lord Laric turned from the room and went back into the nursery, roughly swinging the door shut behind him.

The sentence could be more precise if I wrote

     Without another word, Lord Laric turned and went back into the nursery, jerking the door shut behind him. 

"Jerking" conveys a more sudden action that is still rough, and it also seems to convey a little more about Lord Laric as a character than "roughly swinging" does.
     Unfortunately, I seem to use -ly adverbs a lot. Avoiding them will be a struggle. I will probably leave some in the first draft, just to keep my flow going, but I hope to have very few -ly adverbs in my final draft, since I think the challenge of getting rid of them makes my writing more dynamic. What do you all think?

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Writer's Tip: Description: Utilizing the Senses

     I am currently just beginning of another book on writing called Description: How to engage readers and keep stories moving by creating vivid, believable depictions of people, places, events and actions by Monica Wood. It's pretty helpful so far, and it seems to be holding true to its rather lengthy title. I'll post a book review when I've finished it.
    One of the first tips the author offered really struck me as helpful. In Chapter One, she talked about how new writers tend to stick to the sense of sight when describing something, and they neglect smell, sound, taste, and touch. She says that using the other senses in addition to sight really helps to enrich descriptive writing. That technique invites readers to empathize more with the character and gives them a deeper understanding of what is happening in the story.
     Let's give it a try. Here is a descriptive passage from my novel:



     Liam got up, careful to not use the grimy steaming hot pipes for balance like he had the first few times he had used the corridors. He took up a jog, anxious that his mark not escape him this time. He expertly ducked under the low pipes and went around a few clouds of steam that hissed out of the cracks in the lead pipes. He did all this with his peripheral vision, because at his speed, he had to keep his eyes to the ground to watch out for the heads, legs, and arms of the dozens of people who used this passageway as a home. He did not trip on the uneven floor, even in the dim light that came only from the main gallery.

    It's reasonably descriptive, I guess, but it heavily utilizes the visual sense. The word "grimy" slightly evokes the sense of touch, and "hissed" brings up the sense of hearing, but it does not see like it's enough. Also, I'm pretty sure that my protagonist, having been raised on the streets, has no idea what the word" peripheral" means. I just noticed that. So, I am going to try to fix that part of the passage, and I am also going to try to add more of the tactile sense to it. 

Liam got up, careful not to pull himself up by the grimy steam pipes. He had done that the first few times he had used the corridors, and he still had the scaly burn scars on his fingers and palms as reminders of those early days. He took up a jog, anxious that his mark not get away from him yet again. Liam expertly ducked under the low pipes and went around the few clouds of scalding steam that hissed out of them. Despite all the overhead dangers, though, Liam had to keep his eyes to the ground to make sure he did not step on the heads, legs, and arms of the dozens of steam-sticky people who used this passageway as a home. Liam managed to not trip on any of them, nor did the crumbling floor trouble him, even in the dim light that barely managed to penetrate the narrow passageway from the main gallery. 

There, I kept the "grimy steam pipes." I also added the bit about the "scaly burn scars" so that readers could start to feel like they were in his skin. The steam is now "scalding," and the homeless people are "steam-sticky." Okay, that last one is probably not a good word to use. I've already talked about clouds of steam in the sentence before. Also, it just sounds stupid. How about "sopping mass of people who used this passageway..."? That sounds better. Next, I'll fix that and try to add some smell and taste.

Liam rose, careful not to pull himself up by the grimy steam pipes. He had done that the first few times he had used the corridors, and he still had the scaly burn scars on his fingers and palms as reminders of those early days. He took up a brisk jog, anxious that his mark not get away from him yet again. Liam expertly ducked under the low pipes and went around the few scalding clouds that hissed out of them. Despite all the overhead dangers, though, Liam had to keep his eyes to the crumbling ground to make sure he did not step on the dark shapes of the sopping masses of people who called the passageway home. Liam lept over sweaty arms, legs, and heads, and he could almost taste sweat in the air. But, he did not wrinkle his nose at the heavy odor of unwashed humanity. He was too used to it. 

There. Some taste and smell. The taste is obvious-- the taste of sweat in the air. The smell part is probably pretty obvious, too, actually. I've already done sight and touch. I suppose the only one left is sound.

Liam rose, careful not to pull himself up by the grimy steam pipes. He had done that the first few times he had used the corridors, and he still had the scaly burn scars on his fingers and palms as reminders of those early days. He took up a brisk jog, anxious that his mark not get away from him again. Liam expertly ducked under the low clanging pipes and darted around the few scalding clouds that hissed out of them. Despite all the overhead dangers, though, Liam had to keep his eyes to the crumbling ground to make sure he did not step on the dark shapes of the murmuring masses of people who called the sopping passageway home. Liam lept over sweaty arms, legs, and heads, and he could almost taste sweat in the air. But, he did not wrinkle his nose at the heavy odor of unwashed humanity. He was too used to it. 

There. Sound. The pipes not only hiss, now; they clang. And, the people murmur. So, in that one paragraph, I've used sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell. I think that it is much better and much more evocative than the first paragraph, which really only used sight. Maybe it is a little too much description, but if I have to, I will edit down later. 

Let me know what you think!