✍️ In Defence of the Adverb

or, Why Merrily We Write Along

I’ve talked about the Writing Craft Book Club in these pages before. Last Sunday, we discussed On Writing by Stephen King.

This is one of the first books on craft I ever read, and I’m on my fourth reading of it now. Mostly, I like what he says in these pages and, mostly, it holds up almost 30 years later. If I got more from it the first time I read it, it’s because King aims his advice at newer writers.

However, there are a few areas I disagree with King (his bestseller status notwithstanding), including on the subject of adverbs.

“Adverbs are not your friends,” he writes, and goes on to demonstrate exactly why. King refers to other adverb-hating writers like Hemingway and throws in a few examples that prove why adverbs suck.

I think this kind of absolutism is absolutely wrong.

Sure, adverbs can be weak. They are often used as desperate crutches. As King points out, if the writing before the adverb is strong enough, it will make the adverb redundant. Example:

“You don’t expect me to believe you!?!” Stephen said incredulously.

King would likely agree with me that the adverb “incredulously” is amateurish and overkill and should go.

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But there are some real situations where adverbs are your friends:

• Merrily We Roll Along, the controversial Stephen Sondheim musical, wouldn’t be the same play as We Roll Along. In this case, the adverb adds context (being the title and all…) Plus, using the word “Merrily” adds colour and dimension, and brings the title to life.

• “Most of the big shore places were closed now and there were hardly any lights except the shadowy, moving glow of a ferryboat across the Sound. And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors’ eyes — a fresh, green breast of the new world.” From the last passages of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. In both bolded places, the adverb adds to the image rather than detracts from it. We all know that “hardly any lights” is different than “some lights” or “a few lights”. The first phrase seems darker, and in this passage the darkness is the point, not the light.

• “To boldly go where no man/one has gone before.” Double whammy! Grammarians have hated – and gutted – this line from the beginning, and gutted it again decades later for its sexist overtones. There’s no way around it, though: this line would not be nearly as effective or memorable without the word “boldly” boldly splitting the infinitive. More proof that the only real rule of writing should be, does it work?

These are just a few of the many examples of how adverbs can perfectly clarify meaning and add nuances for the reader.

Maybe Hemingway could pull off a story entitled, We Roll Along. On the other hand, there is a fine line between sparse writing and opaqueness. Some readers – readers like me – believe that there are times he rolls recklessly along the wrong side of that line.

Key Takeaway: Adverbs are not inherently bad, so you don’t necessarily have to firebomb them from your writing. I prefer to take a moment to consider whether the passage is stronger or weaker with the adverb (or any word, for that matter), and edit accordingly.

Over to You

What’s your take on adverbs? Let us know in the comments below!

Until next time, keep writing with wild abandon!

~Graham

email me if you get lost.