I’ve heard that there are certain authors* who believe that you should never use adverbs if you can help it. Why is this so? What’s so wrong with adverbs? I think they’re pretty handy. “He smiled mischievously/suddenly/wickedly/joyfully/slyly/shyly” all say different things. What do you think?
*Specifically, I’ve heard from a friend that this is Stephen King’s opinion in “On Writing,” though I haven’t been able to get my hands on a copy of the book yet to hear his full argument.
Absolutely!
Precisely! I was quickly opening this thread to give exactly the same answer! I am totally serious about it.
As for the OP: But writers also say that you should never begin a sentence with a preposition, though there is nothing grammatically wrong with it. I’m a devout hater of prescriptionism when it comes to English, that is when people try to tell you what you can and can’t do - so long as it is still English and is still able to be understood - then there is no problem with it in my opinion.
– IG
I think adverbs are bad because they’re a cheap shortcut. Haven’t you already established that your character is shy or wicked or sarcastic? Doesn’t your dialogue already display how a character said something? If so, then the adverb is superfluous; if not, then you have a problem with your dialogue. Tacking a cheap modifier on a sentence that’s flawed doesn’t un-flaw it, and using words that you don’t need to is a symptom of weak writing.
Writing with a lot of adverbs is almost unreadable to me. For instance, even though I like a lot of noir mysteries writers like Chandler tend to pack on the adverbs, and the thing is that he didn’t really need any of them; I’d know all the motivations and moods without being given an adverb. If you’ve constructed your characters and dialogue well, more often than not, you don’t need a tacked-on word that just takes up space.
That said, I don’t think they have to be weeded out with a fine tooth comb or anything. Just that they are meant to be used sparingly… wait, no… not all that often.
I find it does strengthen writing when avoiding adverbs and adjectives. Whenever I’m composing prose, I try to remember Mark Twain’s advice: “As to the Adjective; when in doubt, strike it out.” It applies to adverbs well enough, too.
“Is that so?” he said thoughtfully. -> “Is that so?” he mused.
He swiftly drew the curved sword from its scabbard with a wicked smile. -> He swept the scimitar from its scabbard, leering.
Quick examples, but they illustrate the point. Each sentence describes the same thing, but the second version is tighter, just as evocative, and less redundant in sentence form. Also, if a writer is sparing in their use of adjectives and adverbs, then when the prose actually calls for those words, their use is that much stronger instead of getting lost among the noise.
Nitpick:
I think that that second version doesn’t read nearly as well to me… partly because ‘leer’ makes me think that he’s looking at a hot girl (or maybe a hot guy.) But I still like ‘with a wicked smile’ better than any other gerund I can think of in this case. And, even with the ‘swiftly’ sitting in front of it, drew seems better than ‘swept’.
(With ‘curved sword’ for scimitar, it seems like you were just kinduv stacking the deck against adjectives.)
So, overall, I’d go with something like:
He pulled the scimitar from his scabbard with a wicked smile.
He used a wicked smile to pull the scimitar? I’d think using a hand would be easier.
Because theyre boring. There’s a limited amount of adverbs in the English language, and if you use them oftem enough you’ll start repeating yourself.
Because they tell the reader too much; especially, they tell the reader what to think. As they say in the movie business, show - don’t tell. Draw a picture, don’t write Cliff notes.
Because similies and metaphors are more creative, and more fun.
I agree with the previous two posters. In fact, I’ll go even further and say that descriptives in language of any kind are a crutch that any quality writer should avoid. Tolkien, Lovecraft, and King would read so much better swept of all that superfluous flowery nonsense.
I’m sorry, did I say “flowery?”. I obsiously just meant superfluous nonsense. Well, let’s get rid of superfluous also. And nonsense, that should be obvious as well to the reader.
Let me rephrase: Tolkie, Lovecraft, and King would read better swept.
I like it.
Now, my quality sanitization edit of “The Dunwich Horror” by Lovecraft
Before: “Without knowing why, one hesitates to ask directions from the gnarled solitary figures spied now and then on crumbling doorsteps or on the sloping, rock-strewn meadows. Those figures are so silent and furtive that one feels somehow confronted by forbidden things, with which it would be better to have nothing to do. When a rise in the road brings the mountains in view above the deep woods, the feeling of strange uneasiness is increased. The summits are too rounded and symmetrical to give a sense of comfort and naturalness, and sometimes the sky silhouettes with especial clearness the queer circles of tall stone pillars with which most of them are crowned.”
After: “Without knowing why, directions from the figures on the doorsteps makes one hesitiate. I see mountains.”
Yes, I wholeheartedly support your improvements of writing style.
How about:
In a blink of an eye, a scimitar appeared in his hand. He smiled like a man about to deflower a princess.
No writer ever said any such thing.
I plead guilty on account of reading too much bad fantasy lately. I don’t even remember which author it is I’ve been ingesting recently that used leer as a synonym for evil grin. I do agree there’s a weird connotation in there. But like I said, those were just quick examples.
Prescriptionism shouldn’t even be a word!
Adverbs should be used sparingly, and they are useless in speech tags (“said Tom swiftly”) because by the time the reader has gotten to the speech tag, he’s already figured out how the person said the speech (or, at least, he should have).
And Strunk and White say not to construct awkward adverbs.
But there is no blanket prohibition. Adverbs are just one tool in the writer’s toolbox, and it’s foolish not to use every tool you have.
That’s not something that writers would admit to. Frankly, I see where they’re coming from.
When you do get your hands on it, the adverb part is on p. 124-127, at least in my edition.
His objection to adverbs seems to be along the lines of davenportavenger’s.
The Turkey City Lexicon, a great primer for what not to do when writing prose, also advises against excessive adverbism.
Much as I adore the Harry Potter series, somebody should really stand up to J. K. Rowling and make her trim some (most) of her adverbs. Her books are rife with them; it’s particularly annoying when listening to them on audiobooks, because there are passages where every bit of dialog includes its own helpful adverb to tell us how it’s said. When reading, I usually just ignore them.
On the other hand, I believe the road to hell is paved with 800-page novels. And I’ve been resolutely, doggedly, and despairingly shouting that from the rooftops for years.
Check out E. B. White’s opinion in Section V. of The Elements of Style:
V. An Approach to Style (With a List of Reminders)
“8. Avoid the use of qualifiers.
Rather, very, little, pretty—these are the leeches that infest the pond of prose, sucking the blood of words.”
In the first example, the scabbard has a wicked smile. 
The second example clearly demonstrates the danger of a misplaced prepositional phrase.
The third example has the scimitar appearing from nowhere.
Ain’t English great!