Writing Tips Part Two

In the first article on this topic, we discussed a few essentials of good writing. We went over some pros and cons of repetition, one’s strange yet necessary partnership with the muse, the bland feel and ineffectiveness of one- or two-dimensional description, and the need for developing good reading habits.

This article goes with the last one; you really shouldn’t see one without the other. For one article (or two, honestly) can never cover it all. But I’ve learned a few things that I can summarize into what I hope are a helpful few paragraphs.

Don’t fall in love with adjectives. Adjectives describe, yes, but their trap is an easy one to fall into. Since they describe, a beginning writer may think that he/she has written good description because he/she used an impressive phrase with colorful words. Use them, certainly – I believe in using every tool you can – but don’t overuse them.

In a story, it’s what a character does that keeps everything moving. Verbs give action, and this doesn’t have to be physical action; it can be thoughts, or even dialogue. If you start modifying everything, you’ll wind up with a thesaurus. And I don’t believe a comparison of your work to Roget would feel very nice. Concentrate on nouns and verbs, and then add a little zing to it. A burger isn’t a burger without the meat.

The same goes for adverbs: don’t fall in love them. In fact, I’d advise you to stamp out as many as you can. Often, a sentence is weaker because it has an adverb. “He eyed her alluringly.” It seems more direct to say, “He eyed her.” Everything that comes before and after that sentence can show the reader what’s happening, and the word “alluring” needn’t be used at all. (And if you have done that, the adverb becomes redundant anyway.)

For those who aren’t sure about the mechanics of adverbs, they describe adjectives, verbs and other adverbs. They normally end in -ly (I just used one), though there are exceptions, such as “very.” Using this nice little word can become addictive, too. If you’ve used “very” ten times in a piece, you might want to cut nine of them. Like most adverbs, it can get annoying after a while.

The thing about adjectives and adverbs is that they’re like rabbits. Sure, one or two equals cute and cuddly. But in no time, one or two has become a truckload and you’re going insane, screaming for your dear life, because you are completely, totally, absolutely overrun with these little, furry, cute, breeding monsters.

If you have an adverb (or two) in your sentence, try rearranging it so that it says the same thing without the adverb. Sometimes, though, you can’t do this; after all, the English language has limits. If you find that the original meaning is lost without the adverb, no matter how you restructure the sentence, or if you absolutely must keep the original flavor, go ahead and leave it in. Just be careful; too many adverbs make a passage weak.

Also, give your work a careful proofread to check for double adjectives. Such as: “She has a dirty filthy mouth.” Which is it? Dirty or filthy? Pick one, according to the characteristic of her language. Filthy is a lot worse than dirty. Using both is redundant.

When you write dialogue, try to stick to the basic “he said/she said.” I’ve already mentioned how an added adverb can be redundant, if you’ve described the situation well enough before and after the adverbial sentence. What I said earlier (in the “alluring” example) applies to dialogue, too. Sometimes, though, it’s almost necessary to tag an adverb onto the end, especially if you’re trying to focus more on their words and tone of voice rather than facial expressions or such.

Always ask yourself if you really need that adverb or that adjective. Think of the reader when asking yourself this, as well. Chances are that your reader isn’t stupid. And take comfort that no reader will interpret it in the exact same way that you do. Of course, you want your meaning to come through (and adverbs and adjectives can clutter that meaning, if you’re not careful), but the fact that different readers will see the same passage differently is part of the magic of writing.

Let me put it like this, and then I’ll hush about it. If you’re talking to someone, and they use flowery language, it’s bound to get on your nerves. Approach your writing the same way. When you write, think of how you would want to hear the story.

Always strive to use the active voice. I’ll list a few examples:

Passive Voice:

 “Taxes were cut by the Republicans again.”

Active Voice:

 “The Republicans cut taxes again.”

Compare the two sentences. In the passive version, taxes are the star of the sentence. The Republicans – a group of humans – are taking a back seat to a monetary system. In the passive voice, something is being done to the subject (in this case, Republicans). It’s a distant, indirect way of indicating action. Sometimes I get lost with the passive construction; if it doesn’t put me to sleep, it gives me a headache. That’s why I can’t make it through a whole page of passive sentences, and I know I’m not alone in that.

In the active version of that sentence, the subject (Republicans) is upfront, and it is doing the action. Straight, simple, and direct. And I would venture that it’s much easier to read and understand.

However, there are times when the passive voice is allowable.

Active Voice:

 “They saw the creature.”

Passive Voice:

“This creature has been seen.”

In this sentence, the active version says they saw the creature. Again, straight, simple and direct. Yet, in this passive version, we can almost feel the mysterious nature of this creature. It lurks at the edge of consciousness as surely as the creature lurks in the shadows.

I would advise against saying, “This creature has been seen by the townspeople.” It adds clutter, and you don’t need that. I would do this in dialogue (I try to never write passive in narrative; it slows everything down), perhaps something like, “This creature has been seen,” she said. “They say its eyes glow red, and that it passes by without a sound, like a ghost.”

As I said, the passive voice does have a place, but that place is small, and its uses are few. That is, unless you’re doing business writing or something similar. In essays, fiction, poetry, or basic articles, the active voice is champion.

Another example of the active voice would be, “Larry was watching television.” This isn’t as direct as saying, “Larry watched television,” but it is clearer than saying, “Television was watched by Larry.” (Do people even talk that way? None that I know.) The choice between the verb (watched) and its participle (was watching) depends on the flow of the piece, and sometimes, style. The participle isn’t as direct, but it is sometimes more natural. If you feel that the straight-verb version is too curt, use the participle. On the other hand, if the participle isn’t clear enough, use the straight verb.

Always, the purpose of proofreading and rewriting is to make sure your meaning comes through as clearly as possible. If you can make the meaning clearer with revision, even if it means dividing a thought into multiple sentences where there was originally one, do so.

No amount of rewriting can turn bad writing into good writing. But if it’s good to begin with, using the tools of revision can make it even better. That’s where the craft of writing becomes an art.