The Adverbial Crutch

Does everybody know what an adverb is?  It's a word that describes a verb.  "He adverbly verbed the direct object," is the most common usage, although - as always, when it comes to English - it's more complicated than that.

Don't use adverbs, writers.  Don't ever use them.  Just don't ever use them.  That's the rule.

Wait, the what?  The rule?  

A lot of people will tell you: there are no "rules" to writing.  I suppose they're right.  Writing is art, sometimes; and craft, other times, so getting outside that comfort zone and trying things you've never seen anyone try before... that ought to be the rule.  Grammar be damned, and Oxford Comma forever!

And yet, writers love throwing around the rules, the most famous of which is: "show, don't tell."  Only slightly less well-known is: "don't use adverbs."

If you've written something, and you look and see you've used an adverb, cut that adverb immediately.  Brutally, coldly, viciously, heartlessly.  Cut.  That.  Adverb.

No adverbs!  An entire chapter of English grammar, banned from the English written word.  Adverbs are the boarded-up wing of the English mansion; the crusted-up ketchup bottle at the back of the English refrigerator.

And why would we banish adverbs from the written word?  Because Elmore Leonard and Stephen King both say so.  You may not have heard of Elmore Leonard, but you've seen some movies made out of his books.  Stephen King, you've heard of.

I believe the road to hell is paved with adverbs, and I will shout it from the rooftops.

That's what King says about adverbs. And Stephen King is such an enormously voluble writer - an excellent writer, and I really mean that - but so effortlessly (or so it seems) verbose.  He must pop off a thousand words just by walking past his typewriter.  He needs a briefcase to carry around his grocery list.  For King to swear off one entire category of word is like a compulsive eater cleaning out the whole bakery except for the cupcakes.  

Imagine how long his books would be if he hadn't sworn off adverbs.

There's no arguing that King's prose is excellent, though.  And Elmore Leonard (if you haven't read him, do so) is a master.  I, wanting to also be a great writer (even if you'll never hear of me), am inclined to follow their advice.

It's not as if there's no reason to it.  It's all part of that "show don't tell" rule I mentioned earlier.  They're not two separate rules: "no adverbs" is an offshoot of "show, don't tell."  Adverbs are by their very nature explanatory words.  

The coach chewed his gum furiously.

That seems pretty innocuous, doesn't it?  Is that "furiously" really hurting my prose?  

Maybe not.  But I think the point is: I shouldn't need the "furiously" (or, I think, that whole sentence) because my readers should already know the coach is angry, or stressed, or whatever's causing him to act that way, because I've painted that picture through action and dialog.  I shouldn't have to explain how he's doing things.  If I've done my job, the reader should already understand it.

And: that was me, explaining back to the professor what I know he wants to hear.

What's really behind the "no adverbs" rule?  I think it's this: writers tend to over-write.  Writing can almost always be improved with cuts.  Single out one section of the language for total banishment, and that gives you one whole section of the language to eliminate, easy peasy.  

And that leads to tighter prose, and might lead to even more cutting.  Hey, if I can cut this word that I thought I really needed, I suppose I can cut that word I think I really need, too.

See, it's not really the adverbs.  It's a crutch for writers who hate, hate, hate cutting their own prose.  Meaning: it's a crutch for writers.

Addendum: I was going to go back and count exactly how many adverbs I purposely slipped into this post, but honestly, I'm not completely clear on all the grammar rules.  I was also going to re-write this without the adverbs, just to compare, but that assumes somebody besides me will read it.  So.