Have you heard yet that adverbs are evil? I often hear writers mention their critique groups cutting out all their lovely adverbs. And I see writing books vilifying adverbs as an archaic evil creeping into modern prose. So, are adverbs evil? And if so, how do I make sure I kill them all?

WHAT IS AN ADVERB ANYWAY?

When most of us think of adverbs, we picture those -ly lovelies that shore up the dialogue tags:

"You're not the sharpest knife in the drawer," she said cuttingly.
"I love pillows," he said softly.
"I invented the light bulb!" Edison said brightly.

But adverbs can be single words without an -ly also, and they can even be phrases. The key to whether something is an adverb is whether it adds more information to the verb.

She walks fast.
Mark throws with precision.
Jack eats often.

So an adverb serves an informational purpose in a sentence - that's good, right? So why are writers afraid of them? Sure, J.K.Rowling sprinkles them like spring rain through all of her Harry Potter books, but many editors frown on them. Why is that? Aren't they a perfectly good part of speech? Don't they serve a purpose?

I actually like adverbs. Adverbs enter sentences to add clarity to a verb when needed. Sometimes an adverb is exactly the correct word for the sentence and sometimes it's clutter. But how is a writer to tell when an adverb is doing a job and when it's loitering?

NEVER SHORE UP A WEAK VERB OR THE WRONG VERB

Joey went quickly to the door.
Maude looked steadily at the phone, willing it to ring.
Pete shook his head up and down in agreement.

Many verbs are weakly nonspecific - words like "looked" or "moved" or "went" may not be the strongest choice for your sentence's action. As writers, we sometimes sense this so we want to spruce up the verb a little. An adverb certainly seems to do that since it does add extra information. But is it always a good choice?

With the tight word counts of children's writing, an adverb will often signal a weak verb. Before you decide the adverb is doing a worthwhile job, take a moment to check to see if you can pick one verb to handle the job of both the weak verb and the adverb. Consider these alternatives:

Went + quickly = hurried, hustled, rushed, ran, dashed…
Looked + steadily = stared, glared, peered…
Shook + up and down in agreement = nodded

Whenever you use two words (or more) to do the job of one strong word, you're bloating your prose. An adverb ought never be used to promote prose bloat. When a strong word can do the job of both the adverb and the verb - pick the strong word unless you have some very compelling reason not to.

NEVER ADD THE ADVERB JUST BECAUSE WE SAY IT THAT WAY

Now, in dialogue, sometimes we'll use phrasing just because that's the way people talk. But narrative is a bit different. In narrative, we're constrained by that vicious word count thing and by the knowledge that tight writing is stronger, bolder, and faster paced than wordy constructions. So, one thing we have to do with adverbs is ask, "Does that really need to be there?"

Anton fell down.
Ana looked up at the darkening sky.
Mick wore his shoes on his feet.

Little adverbs like "up" and "down" often creep into our prose because we let them in our spoken sentences, even though they're just clutter. After all, we generally assume that when you fall, you fall down and if you're looking at the sky, you're going to have to look up to do it - it's only if you fall up or look down at the sky that it becomes worthwhile to add the adverb. And really, wearing your shoes on your feet is the default for shoes, right? It's only when you wear them somewhere else that it's worth mentioning. So adverbs ought never be allowed to act as sentence clutter.

NEVER ADD THE ADVERB JUST BECAUSE SAID FEEL BORING

Why is Harry Potter full of adverb? Mostly to make the tag lines feel interesting to the writer. That's pretty much the same reason adverbs clutter up the tag lines of many examples of beginning writing. Let's face it, tag lines just feel boring. They aren't particularly active and they feel redundant…he said, she said, he said, she said. As writers, we hate the idea that anything we write is boring so we look for ways to jazz it up. And adverbs feel like one way, but without care, adverbs can become a little silly.

"I could eat you up!" he snapped bitingly.
"Get away from me!" he yelled loudly.

One excellent cure for the tagline blahs is to alternate a little narrative action for the tag lines - this gets more movement into the scene, increases our sense of being there, and adds sentence variety. Another cure is to cut tags if the speaker is extremely clear and you want to create a brisker pace. A balance between simple tag lines (using said or asked), the rare unusual tag verb (whispered or bellowed - but never queried or continued, keep it simple enough to add without distracting), narrative action, and simply untagged speech will quickly cure the tag line blahs. Then you can add your adverbs to tag lines only when you know they're the perfect word for the job.

"If you need an adverb," he said decisively. "Then use an adverb!"

USE 'EM WHEN YA NEED 'EM

Virtually any novel you pick up will use adverbs. They aren't evil when used by a writer who is giving scrutiny to every word to be certain it's the correct word for the job. If you don't believe me, look at these quotes from Newbery winning books:

In this except from the 2008 Newbery winner, the adverb phrases "right off the wharf into the water" are helpful in seeing the action --
"I put out my tongue, and by Saint Peter , he pushed me right off the wharf into the water."
-- Good Masters! Sweet Ladies! Voices from a Medieval Village by Laura Amy Schlitz

In this excerpt from the 2007 Newbery winner, the adverb "slowly" adds to the sentence because it's in contrast with our normal expectation for the verb. -
"She had to hurry, but she had to hurry slowly, in order not to make a sound."
-- The Higher Power of Lucky by Susan Patron

In this excerpt from the 2006 Newbery winner, the adverb phrase "off somewhere" adds voice to the sentence because it's a regional idiom. We immediately learn something about the character by the voice of the sentence.--
"She had gone off somewhere."
-- Criss Cross by Lynne Rae Perkins

In this excerpt from the 2005 Newbery winner, we see a number of adverbs - including "suddenly," which is an adverb we're frequently admonished never to use! The adverbs help us hear the voice of the character and her feeling about the moment she describes. --
"Sometimes, for no reason that I could see, he would suddenly stand up and clap his hands together really loudly."
-- Kira-Kira by Cynthia Kadohata

In this excerpt from the 2004 Newbery winner, the writer breaks TWO of those writing rules we hear. She not only uses an adverb - with an -ly, but writes the sentence in the negative instead of the positive. But the slightly longer construction here mirrors the more sedate pacing of the book, a pace which gives it an older, fairy tale feel.
"He did not think constantly of food."
-- The Tale of Despereaux: Being the Story of a Mouse, a Princess, Some Soup, and a Spool of Thread by Kate DiCamillo

So, if all the Newbery winners from the last five years contain adverbs, how can they be evil? They aren't. Like any tool of writing, they are useful and beautiful when used for specific purpose. And like many tools of writing, they are wordy and tiresome when used without thought. So, dear reader, how do you use your adverbs?