How to Break the Writing Rules, Part Four: Adjectives

(Note: this post was originally scheduled for Tuesday, but I postponed this essay until Friday to avoid double-posting over the IWM issue announcement. Apologies to anyone who was inconvenienced by the delay.)

If you want to read about adverbs, fragments, or rules thatdon’t apply to English, please check out my previous posts in this series. Today, I’ll respond to some comments made on my last post.  

Briane suggested I should talk about adjectives. Adjectives aren’t as universally hated as adverbs are, but there are some authors and editors out there who feel they should be minimized. My hypothesis that hatred of adjectives goes back to all of the classic 19^th century books we were forced to read in school—you know, the ones where every time a character entered a new room, the author spent a page describing the setting in minute detail. Be honest; does everyone read every word of that block of dullness? These days, probably not. I have heard (I don’t have a source, sorry) that because back then people didn’t travel or have television, they needed, even wanted more description. If you hadn’t had much exposure to an elephant, then you would find a description of one interesting. These days, we already know what an elephant looks like and don’t need much description to conjure up an image in our minds.

If the typical modern reader has much more knowledge of the world, then does that mean she doesn’t need any description? I don’t think so. For instance, if the setting is historical or fantastic/speculative, then it will most likely be unfamiliar to her and therefore require some description. Even if your setting is real and well-known, such as New York City, not all readers will know it well. Furthermore, everyone will experience the city a little differently and may therefore not know the city as portrayed in your story. Descriptions and adjectives help readers experience the story as though they were inside it.

I think the key to using adjectives and description in a story is showing experiences and emotions. One of the reasons people read stories is to experience emotions. The words your viewpoint character uses to describe things can show the reader much about the character—their education, their attitudes, and their own emotional state. If one character says a dress is “as blue as the ocean” and another says it’s as “blue as despair,” then you learn different things about them.

So, in summary, here are a few guidelines to help you use adjectives fearlessly and effectively:

    1.   Don’t present your adjectives or description in a solid block of text that intimidates readers. Sprinkle description in in small doses so the action doesn’t get bogged down.

2 2.  Don’t describe everything; focus on what’s most important to the character, and by extension, the reader. Is there something unusual about an object, or something that will be significant later?

    3. Make sure the description fits the viewpoint character. That way, the description serves a dual purpose.

  4.    Avoid purple prose. Simple words, such as “red,” may be just as effective as “carmine” or “scarlet.” That said, make sure your diction fits your style and genre. Historical fantasy may be more tolerant of extravagant description than urban fantasy, though there may be exceptions to this rule. 

Have I forgotten anything? What else would you add to this list?

How to Break the Writing Rules, Part Three: Rules that Aren't

So far, we've discussed how to use adverbs and fragments to achieve certain effects in your writing. This week, I want to talk about grammar rules that everyone knows about but aren't really rules. I will be relying heavily on this article, "7 Grammatical Errors That Aren't," but I will only focus on the first three rules, since I think those are the most interesting and general ones.

Original cartoon found at this link: http://www.marktoon.co.uk/gags.htm

Split Infinitives--Everyone knows that only Star Trek captains get to boldly go where no one has gone before. However, the practice of inserting words between the "to" and the verb goes back to Middle English. The earliest examples of split infinitives come from poetry, where they may have been used for the sake of cadence. Even if you're writing prose, there's nothing wrong with splitting infinitives to make a sentence flow better or to emphasize a word. Many people believe (as I did before researching this article) that the reason for objecting to split infinitives has to do with applying Latin grammar to English. However, the first people to object to split infinitives didn't make this argument. Today, we are encouraged to organize our words in the order most pleasing for us--and our readers.

Ending a Sentence with a Proposition--As a Midwesterner, I will agree with Winston Churchill (even though he wasn't from the Midwest, and this quote wasn't from him anyway) that "This is the kind of arrant pedantry up with which I will not put." As above, the "rule" about not ending a sentence with a proposition is supposed to come from Latin. However, English has a lot of idiomatic expressions ending with propositions that sometimes do belong at the end of a sentence.

Starting a Sentence with a Conjunction:  I did extensive research to see if this was really forbidden: in other words, I watched "Conjunction Junction" and determined that they never say you can't use a conjunction at the beginning of a sentence (two negatives make a positive, right?):



It's true that conjunctions are used to join things, and yes, you do need them when you're joining two short sentences to make a complex one. But what do you do if the next thought is closely related to what you just said, and you don't want to ramble on and on, like Tristam Shandy delivering a twelve-hour filibuster in the House of Commons (or Senate, or wherever people avoid doing the job we elected them to do)? So, start the next sentence with a conjunction already. But don't overdo it, because you know I believe in nothing in excess and everything in moderation.


What do you think about these writing rules? Do you obey them or break them? Are there any other writing rules you'd like me to discuss in this series?

How to Break the Writing Rules: Part Two, Fragments

Fragments. Incomplete sentences. Wandering around in public without a subject or verb to make them whole.

If you're writing a formal document, your language should be formal to match. However, as I mentioned in the first post in this series, when you're writing fiction, you can play with grammar, sentence structure, and other parts of the language to achieve a certain effect. What can you do with fragments? Let's find out.

Fragments are normally short (though you could write a long, rambling one if you chose), so they work well in scenes in scenes with high tension. I also like strings of nouns for lists. Here's an example (a paraphrase, actually) from one of my early works. The protagonist thinks there is something in his hotel closet, so he opens the door:

Two suits, neatly pressed. A pair of shoes on the floor. Empty hangers. Nothing else.

A similar list of verbs might work well in a combat sequence.

Fragments work best when used sparingly. A series of them can work, providing that the surrounding texts flows (so the fragments stand out and are obviously deliberate). Fragments can be overdone, even when used for effect. I read a book earlier this year that used clumps of fragments on Every.Single.Page. (There's another way to use fragments: to show emphasis. I see this most often used in dialogue. People don't always speak in complete sentences, so that's also good place to use fragments.) Some of the fragments were used in ways like ones listed above, but they were used so frequently they drew attention to themselves away from the story. I had to force myself through all of those fragments, so I can't recommend this story to anyone else.

Obviously, any attempt to catalog situations where fragments are effective will be (you guessed it) fragmentary. How do you feel about fragments? Do you use them for effect? If so, how? Please tell us in the comments.

How to Break the Writing Rules: Part One, Introduction and Adverbs

I’m one of the last people you’d expect to break writing rules.  I studied editing for my Master of Technical and Scientific Education degree, and I was a proofreader for a local newspaper. I favor the Oxford comma, and when I critiqued chapters on for an online workshop, I spent most of my time pointing out punctuation errors. And yes, I admit to being both anal and conscientious. So why am I blogging about breaking the writing rules?

Rules exist for a reason—to make something safer or fairer for everyone. When it comes to writing rules, the punctuation and grammar rules are there to make things clear. For example, knowing how to use semicolons and commas when making lists will help you separate each item correctly, so there’s no confusion. This is also why I use the Oxford comma. This sentence: “He liked my parents, Darth Vader and Yoda,” could mean that my parents are Darth Vader and Yoda. That would definitely cause a disturbance in the Force. Adding a comma after “Darth Vader” makes it clear that this name is a separate item in the list, not a description of my parents. Rules like this are worth following because if your readers become confused, you’ve lost them.

However, there are other writing rules that have less justification for existing. Some of them are based on a misunderstanding of the language, some of them might be applicable in formal speech but less so in fiction, and some of them are rules thoughtlessly passed down from writer to writer because that’s how they were taught or because some writing styles were in fashion when they started writing. When traditional publishing was the only game in town, writers had to follow the rules to have a chance of breaking in. Now, however, you don’t have to please agents and editors, only readers, and their tastes may be broader than gatekeepers give them credit for.  It’s worth re-examining these types of rules to see if they’re still worth following. There are times when breaking a rule will help you achieve a certain effect in your fiction. However, first you have to understand the rule in order to break it effectively.

Let’s start by looking at one of the most well-known rules: don’t use adverbs. (This advice is generally directed at words that end in "ly," but those aren't the only adverbs around.) The reason you’re not supposed to use adverbs is because they can make a sentence seem wordy or redundant. They may also be used to shore up weak verbs to make your writing style seem “pretty.” (Adjectives are also used for this purpose.) In my opinion, a strong verb is more concise and powerful than a weak verb plus an adjective.  For example, why say “walk slowly and deliberately” when you can say “paced” or “plodded”? But removing an entire class of words from your toolbox is extreme. There may be times when you want to use a strong verb but shade its meaning, or even imply the opposite of what the verb normally means. For example, smiling is normally a happy or friendly gesture, but pairing “smiled” with “sadly” or “meanly” puts a new set of emotions behind the upturned lips and in the eyes. Also, if you’re writing historical fiction or steampunk, using florid phrases may help evoke the time period.

When it comes to breaking any writing rule, moderation is key. If there are a lot of adverbs on every page, then they can become tiresome to read. The fewer adverbs you use, the more impact each one will have. However, it’s not worth breaking your writing flow to strip adverbs from your sentences as you write. If adverbs come to you in the heat of the first draft, feel free to include them. You can always strip them out later if you decide deleting them won’t affect your sentence. I deliberately included some adverbs in this essay, but I also removed some that I felt were too wordy.

How do you feel about adverbs, or writing rules in general? Are there other writing rules you’d like me to discuss in this series? Feel free to mention them in the comments.