Paul was lost in thoughts of Caroline when a shout sounded at the head of the column. Suddenly the horsemen near Paul and Tommy were charging forward, dodging low branches.

“Suddenly” starts the second sentence. I have said before that you should execute as many adverbs as you can. “Suddenly” is one [...]]]> What’s wrong with these sentences?

Paul was lost in thoughts of Caroline when a shout sounded at the head of the column. Suddenly the horsemen near Paul and Tommy were charging forward, dodging low branches.

“Suddenly” starts the second sentence. I have said before that you should execute as many adverbs as you can. “Suddenly” is one of the most notorious adverbs of them all. It should be shot on sight. No remorse. The same goes for its twin brother, “immediately.”

The reason is simple. Every event happens at a precise moment. For example, a person may take a long time to die, but the moment of death comes in an instant. It comes suddenly. A writer has no need to use the word “suddenly” with the reader.

In the sentences above, the horsemen charged “suddenly.” Can they charge slowly? Can they charge at a leisurely pace? The verb “charge” carries plenty of energy of its own without the adverb. The sentences can be rewritten like this:

Thoughts of Caroline filled Paul’s mind when a shout sounded at the head of the column. The horsemen near Paul and Tommy charged forward, ducking under low branches.

The adverb is gone. The horsemen charged forward at the shout.

While I was at it, I changed the past progressive “were charging” to simply “charged.”

Ryan stepped over to Isaac’s unconscious form. Red blood dripped from Isaac’s forehead to the ground. He placed his fingers on the wound; it was not deep. He pulled a cloth from his satchel and bound it around Isaac’s head. He glanced over at Jim. “Isaac is out, but he’s okay.”

There [...]]]> What’s wrong with this paragraph?

Ryan stepped over to Isaac’s unconscious form. Red blood dripped from Isaac’s forehead to the ground. He placed his fingers on the wound; it was not deep. He pulled a cloth from his satchel and bound it around Isaac’s head. He glanced over at Jim. “Isaac is out, but he’s okay.”

There are an awful lot of pronouns in this paragraph. No question that is one problem, but look a little deeper. Most of the sentences start the same way: “Ryan stepped…He placed…He pulled…He glanced…” The sentences can be rewritten to fix this, but that will only mask yet another, deeper problem.

Ryan’s character is experiencing the story on his own, filtering out the story from the reader. The story would be stronger if instead the reader experienced the story with Ryan, looking through Ryan’s point of view (POV), seeing what Ryan was seeing:

Ryan stepped over to Isaac’s unconscious form. Red blood dripped from Isaac’s forehead to the ground; the wound was not deep. The cloth in the satchel should fix it. “Isaac is out, but he’s okay.”

The first and second sentences remained the same (except for a period changing to a semicolon). The third sentence originally was: “He placed his fingers on Isaac’s forehead; the wound was not deep.” To see through Ryan’s eyes, I removed the phrase, “He placed his fingers on Isaac’s forehead.” Unfortunately, when I did that, I lost the interesting detail of how Ryan checked the wound—using his fingers. Details are important, so the sentence needs to be revised again. I’ll do that below.

The fourth sentence originally was: “He found a cloth in his satchel and wrapped it around Isaac’s head.” I changed that to: “The cloth in the satchel should fix it.” Ryan is thinking that the cloth will bind the wound, and the reader thinks along with Ryan. This is a technique called interior monologue.

Finally, the fifth sentence was, “He glanced over at Jim.” I deleted that sentence entirely, because Jim was the only other conscious character in this scene, and the reader didn’t need Ryan glancing at anyone to know who Ryan was talking to.

The paragraph is much improved, but it still needs work. Here’s a third revision:

Ryan stepped over to Isaac’s unconscious form and felt the gash near the hairline. Red blood dripped to the snow, but the wound did not go deep. The cloth in the satchel should fix it. “Isaac’s out, but he’s okay.”

Ryan again touches the wound to find out the extant of Isaac’s wound, as he did in the first revision.

A “gash” is more specific than “wound”, so I substituted that word in. I also had a hard time imagining a cut on the forehead dripping. I moved the wound to Isaac’s hairline. I also changed “ground” to “snow”, because the whiteness of snow contrasts with “red blood.”

The phrase, “the wound was not deep” is passive, so I changed it to the active, “the wound did not go deep.” The rest of the paragraph remained as it was.

Now the name “Isaac” is used twice instead of four times. The pronoun “he” and “his” have been completely wiped out. I added more details, and the sentences flow in a nicer rhythm.

Todd began to unroll his sleeping bag. Harding said, “Some day, eh?”

I didn’t copy the rest of the dialog here, but Todd never stopped unrolling his sleeping bag. He began, but never ended. If this were a fairy tale, Todd might keep unrolling the bag, like Rapunzel’s hair, until it went [...]]]> What’s wrong with these sentences?

Todd began to unroll his sleeping bag. Harding said, “Some day, eh?”

I didn’t copy the rest of the dialog here, but Todd never stopped unrolling his sleeping bag. He began, but never ended. If this were a fairy tale, Todd might keep unrolling the bag, like Rapunzel’s hair, until it went out the tent and down the hillside. But this wasn’t a fairy tale, or even a fantasy. Todd didn’t own a sleeping bag the length of a football field.

The fix for this is delightfully easy. “Began to” should be dropped, and the verb “unroll” should be changed to past tense:

Todd unrolled his sleeping bag. Harding said, “Some day, eh?”

A simple past tense should also have been used for this sentence, which uses “starting”:

The wind was starting to pick up when they found themselves standing in a long line.

We do say in English that “the wind was starting to pick up”. But in this story, the soldiers were waiting in line for an hour. This meant that the wind continued to increase in speed for the whole hour. Wind doesn’t do that. It gusts. “Started to” could be dropped, resulting in the sentence:

The wind picked up when they found themselves in the back of a long line.

You do want to use “start” or “begin” when the action of the verb will not complete. Consider this sentence:

As Todd began to settle into the routine of the night shift, Chuck began to tell him what was in store.

In this sentence, “began” is used twice. As written, Todd continues to settle during the entire dialog. This “began to” should probably be eliminated. In the meantime, Chuck tells Todd what is involved with the night shift. Chuck needs to give a lot of information, and Todd will interrupt him with questions, so “begin” is appropriate for Chuck:

As Todd settled into the routine of his night shift, Chuck began to tell him what was in store.

The biggest lobster in the middle would make a fine meal, Bill thought. But the tank was large. Maybe there was a better one. The woman behind Bill huffed. What was taking so long? The guy must be a snob. The hostess continued to keep the smile pasted to her mouth. [...]]]> What’s wrong with these sentences?

The biggest lobster in the middle would make a fine meal, Bill thought. But the tank was large. Maybe there was a better one. The woman behind Bill huffed. What was taking so long? The guy must be a snob. The hostess continued to keep the smile pasted to her mouth. Why wouldn’t the guy just pick? She had other customers to wait on.

Bill’s mouth watered just thinking of the meat soaked in melted butter. The middle lobster caught his eye again. He told the hostess, “I’ll take that one.” Finally, thought the woman.

The scene has only three characters, yet the writer tells what each of them are thinking and feeling. This is an exceptional case of head hopping. The author changed the character point of view (POV) five times in that short scene:

1. Bill thought.
2. The woman behind Bill huffed.
3. The hostess was getting impatient
4. Bill thought again
5. The woman was relieved.

Some novels have been successfully published with less severe uses of the technique, but many readers don’t like it, and many editors won’t take it. Authors lose consistency in their writing when they can’t stick to a particular POV.

At minimum, each change in the point of view must have a new paragraph, but you’re usually better off sticking with one POV through an entire section or scene:

The biggest lobster in the middle would make a fine meal, Bill thought. But the tank was large. Maybe there was a better one.

A woman behind him huffed. “Would you just pick?”

Bill turned to her. Her coiled, blue-gray hair reminded him of the bowling ball his mother-in-law once used. The woman could wait. Now, where was that big lobster? Ah, yes. The big one in the middle. “I’ll take that one.” His mouth watered just thinking of the meat soaked in melted butter.

The hostess focused on him. “Very good, sir.”

“About time,” said the woman.

In this rewrite, the author stays with Bill’s POV. We still learn that Bill is a snob, and we still have a fair idea what others think of him. The scene has more consistency, allowing the reader to relax.

That seemed to be the worst thing in the world Alice could have done. She slipped out of the back door and into the night.

A character might be unsure whether Alice’s actions might be so bad, but the author ought to know. In cases like these, the word “seemed” can be [...]]]> What’s wrong with these sentences?

That seemed to be the worst thing in the world Alice could have done. She slipped out of the back door and into the night.

A character might be unsure whether Alice’s actions might be so bad, but the author ought to know. In cases like these, the word “seemed” can be deleted:

That was the worst thing in the world Alice could have done. She slipped out of the back door and into the night.

Most fixes are as simple as that. Compare these two sets of sentences:

He seemed to eat the same sandwich every day. Peanut butter and jelly.

He ate the same sandwich every day. Peanut butter and jelly.

However, I have run into sentences like these before:

The spirit grabbed the curtain. A gust of wind blew at that moment, which seemed to blow him away.

I didn’t know what picture the author was trying to paint for me. The spirit wasn’t blowing away in the gust of wind, so eliminating “seemed” wouldn’t work in this case. Maybe the wind came close to blowing the spirit away?

The spirit grabbed the curtain. A gust of wind blew at that moment, which lifted his feet off the ground, blowing his body sideways.

In this case, the author needs to give more detail about what happened to fix the sentences.

The photo needs to invite people to know more about you. Avoid the basic headshot—serious and formal.

Actually, nothing is wrong with them as they stand. “Serious and formal” amplifies or explains “basic headshot”[1]. The author wanted people to avoid the serious and formal headshot.

However, in the larger context of the text, [...]]]> What’s wrong with these sentences?

The photo needs to invite people to know more about you. Avoid the basic headshot—serious and formal.

Actually, nothing is wrong with them as they stand. “Serious and formal” amplifies or explains “basic headshot”[1]. The author wanted people to avoid the serious and formal headshot.

However, in the larger context of the text, which I did not include here, I wasn’t completely sure that’s what she meant. I usually see a dash interrupting thought[2]. If the author meant to use a dash that way, she might want people to use the “serious and formal” photo, not avoid it. This is the exact opposite of what I think she meant. But I wasn’t sure. A little doubt chewed away in the back of my mind, like a mouse chews on cheese. I didn’t like that.

Fortunately, these sentences are easy to fix. Removing the dash and moving a couple words around eliminates the ambiguity altogether. The second sentence is much more solid:

The photo needs to invite people to know more about you. Avoid the serious and formal headshot.

[2] Chicago Manual of Style, 6.90

The wolf crept stealthily along, sniffing closely at the wind, listening carefully for the rabbit. His stomach rumbled mightily, and he thought longingly of the days when he ate lavishly.

Six adverbs loiter in two sentences: stealthily, closely, carefully, mightily, longingly, and lavishly. Not all adverbs in English end in “ly”, but [...]]]> What’s wrong with these sentences?:

The wolf crept stealthily along, sniffing closely at the wind, listening carefully for the rabbit. His stomach rumbled mightily, and he thought longingly of the days when he ate lavishly.

Six adverbs loiter in two sentences: stealthily, closely, carefully, mightily, longingly, and lavishly. Not all adverbs in English end in “ly”, but vast majority of them do.

Adverbs are the rogues of English prose. Execute as many of them as you can. Oh, one or two of them will turn out to be innocent fellows, and may do some good in society if they are turned loose in your text, but the rest of them must not receive mercy. Eliminate them. Let’s remove all six of the adverbs above, and see how well the sentences work without them:

The wolf crept along, sniffing at the wind, listening for the rabbit. His stomach rumbled , and he thought of the days when he ate.

These are better sentences than they were before, but they still need help. The second sentence in particular jars the reader. What did the wolf eat?

Take a closer look at the phrase “thought longingly”. A common, weak verb “thought” is linked to an adverb “longingly”. The authors who use an adverb like this probably feel verbs like “thought” too weak to stand on its own, so they try to prop it up with an adverb. This only make matters worse.

When you see an adverb in your writing, first consider whether its verb needs to be replaced with a stronger verb. Then consider if the adverb has any merit at all to keep you from eliminating it. Using this technique, the above sentences could be rewritten like this:

The wolf crept along. He sniffed the wind for a scent, and listened for any sound of the rabbit. His stomach rumbled, and he longed for the days when he feasted on game.

This is still not elegant prose, but it is greatly improved from what it was.

I worked as a content editor, and was starting to make some friends there. I wish them all well, especially the authors. May you find new homes [...]]]> It is with sadness that I report that Lilley Press is permanently closing. The small, independent press published science fiction and fantasy titles. The announcement was made November 21st.

I worked as a content editor, and was starting to make some friends there. I wish them all well, especially the authors. May you find new homes for all your good work.