I’ve touched on the rule about avoiding adjectives and adverbs before, here but I have a little more to add on this subject, as part of an overview of the use of writing rules in general.

I run this occasional series against writing rules not because I think they’re useless, but because I think that, being useful, they become damaging.

Firstly, taken too literally, they constrain writers and try to force homogeneity. Don’t get me wrong: I am all for striving for clarity of expression and it is my goal in both my non-fiction technical work and my fiction. There’s certain conventions and techniques that help with that, and the standard writing rules are part of that.

But, in fiction particularly, they have a way of cutting into the exuberance and excitement of storytelling. I can’t tell you how many books I’ve read where the writing has been clean and elegant and well-expressed and which I could not tell you a thing about now because there’s nothing distinctive about them. They slip easily from the memory because they read just like any other book.

Secondly, and relatedly, the writing rules elevate themselves too much. The fact is that story and characters trump the writing every time, and getting too wrapped up in writing rules can lead the writer to forget about those important elements.

Look at this example of over-use of adjectives from one paragraph (to be fair, a long one) from the book I’m reading currently (Romanitas by Sophia McDougall): Very weak. Thin body. Loose panels. Rusting mesh fence. Dilapidated wharf. Misshapen crates. Empty barrels. Black husk. Some difficulty. Rotten door. Forlorn outbuilding. Old rope. Long coils. Dried-up cans. Bent door. Awkward slant. Dim glow. Damp, mouldering smell. Sudden skitter. Invisible concrete floor. Cheap black travelling bag.

In that paragraph, it would have been quicker to count the nouns that weren’t modified (docks, sunlight, river, yard, ships). I’m not going to defend it, because it is overwhelming – though it does have a certain rhythm to it. I am going to point out that I’m still reading the book, which was published by a major publisher. For all its flaws (of which this is not the least), the book is (so far) enjoyable enough – the story and characters trump the writing.

And thirdly, the writing rules scare people away from perfectly acceptable usage. Here’s a quote from John Humphey’s Lost for Words.

“she battled her illness with great courage”…
[should have used] ‘bravely’ instead of ‘with great courage’ but the little suffix ‘-ly’ is going through difficult times. Adverbs are having to fight for their existence. Simon Jenkins, one of our finest columnists, once told me he does not use adverbs in his columns because the verb should speak for itself. That is often the case, but Simon goes too far: sometimes they are essential. Sadly (a lovely, modest little word) we have begun to turn adverbs into adjectives in pointless and tedious phrases. Instead of doing something daily we do it ‘on a daily basis’.

Taking the rules too much too heart hurts the written expression of our language just as much as ignoring them does. The aim of this series is not to tell writers to ignore the rules, but to think consciously about their application.

Previous entries about misapplied writing rules:
Don’t consult your thesaurus
Kill your darlings
Write what you know
Cut 10% in editing
Avoid adjectives and adverbs
Show, don’t tell
Just keep writing