Writing is filled with hobgoblins and bugaboos - things that are supposed to make us very very afraid. Things we must not ever allow to creep into our work. Things that supposedly send editors and readers screaming in the night. In the shadowy darkness, we writers huddle together and whisper the names of these monsters: passive voice, telling, and *gasp* adverbs!

But how scary are these things really? And what are they anyway? They are all tiny bits of the total writing options available to us. Like any writing option, when used incorrectly, they do not help us write well or make sales. When used correctly, they can be exactly the right thing in the right place.

Passive Voice

Few grammatical constructions are more feared and more often misidentified than passive voice. Seasoned writers don't always know what it is - even while being afraid of it! Even the grammar checker on our writing software isn't totally sure when it's discovered passive voice. Yet, it's really not complicated.

Passive voice occurs when the subject of the sentence doesn't do anything and is (instead) done to. Here are three examples:

Rice is grown in many Asian countries.
My car was totaled in the accident.
Passive voice is condemned by many writers.

Notice that in these examples, the subjects (rice, car, and passive voice) aren't doing anything. Instead, something is being done to them (rice is being grown, the car is being totaled, and passive voice is being condemned). In two of the examples, the one doing something isn't even included in the sentence! In the last example, the active player has been pushed off into a "by many people" phrase. That "by blah blah" phrase can be a real flag for passive voice.

So, what's wrong with those sentences? In the first two, nothing. They are specific and not wordy. The sentences feel clean and direct. We don't get the sense that it would drag down the pace of the paragraph in which the sentence appears. But, the third sentence has a "doer" and pushing the active party off to a prepositional phrase makes the sentence a bit wordy and weakens the punch of the strong word "condemned." The sentence would be stronger as "Many writers condemn passive voice."

That's really the key to whether passive voice is a bad choice - does it lead to a weak sentence? Many times it does. It's always worthwhile to consider revising a passive voice sentence to see if the sentence is stronger with the revision. Let's test the idea.

Passive Voice: Joe was rejected by Mary.
Active voice: Mary rejected Joe.
Conclusion: Active voice is shorter and therefore more powerful, but what if we really need to keep the reader's attention on Joe? In the revision, we give Mary the stronger role. If it is important to keep the reader's eye on Joe, we might choose to stick with the passive voice sentence.

Passive Voice: Joe was ridiculed daily.
Active Voice: People ridiculed Joe daily.
Conclusion: The correction isn't shorter and it employed a non-specific noun in the subject, which always weakens the punch of a sentence. It also draws attention away from the stronger noun - Joe. Overall, we were better off with the passive voice unless Joe shouldn't be the focus of the sentence and we can substitute a stronger noun in the subject spot.

Passive Voice: Joe was crippled by his fears.
Active Voice: Joe's fears crippled him.
Conclusion: Both shorter and stronger. By putting Joe before "fears" we don't weaken the sentence or lose "Joe" as the focus. This is better without a doubt.

Passive Voice: Joe's car was scratched in the parking lot.
Active Voice: Someone scratched Joe's car in the parking lot.
Conclusion: Again, we have to use a nonspecific noun, which weakens the sentence and we don't gain any shortening of the sentence. It's not an improvement.

Overall Conclusion: Passive voice is unfairly vilified. In the right situation, it's not only an acceptable choice - it's the best choice. But, because it can lead to wordy sentences - it should always be critically examined when spotted in your prose.

Telling

Telling can be defined in many ways. The one I like best is "giving the reader conclusions instead of details." Telling distances the reader from the characters and action. Telling often compresses time or gives us a kind of average - letting us know what usually happens instead of putting us in a scene. Telling is less engaging for the reader, which is what has earned telling the status of hobgoblin. But is telling always wrong? Let's look at some examples of telling:

The first two examples are telling because they are compression of events. They are reporting on events in the briefest possible manner without detail. Instead of using dialogue in the first example, we're reporting on a conversation. Instead of using scenes in the second example, we're reporting a week's worth of action in one sentence. Clearly, the sentences save hundreds of words in the story but they aren't very compelling. We aren't left feeling like we know Josh's personality better - or that of his mom.

In the third example, we give the reader a conclusion instead of a description. The writer may have mentally "seen" Josh but we don't let the reader "see" him. Instead, we give the reader our conclusion - he looked very disappointed. However, what do you see that makes you conclude someone is disappointed? Does the sentence really paint a picture in the reader's mind? At best, a scant one perhaps.

In the fourth example, we have an average - Josh often talked - rather than specific examples. It's a very short-hand way of handing the reader a bit of characterization and is open to many interpretations. We all know different ways to talk a lot in class. A bully might talk a lot - demanding things of others. A know-it-all might talk a lot, interrupting the teacher to share his wisdom and correcting his peers. A gregarious kid might talk a lot - chattering with whomever sits beside him. Which type is Josh? From this sentence, we cannot be sure.

Does this mean none of those examples should ever be used? No. Telling works very well in transition and can really shave word count. Telling can also allow us to hide things from the reader. For example, suppose we want to surprise the reader with Josh's plan but we need his mom's help to make the plan work. We're not ready to spill the plan yet. So we might write this bit of scene:

In this small bit of scene, I show a lot but I don't want the reader to know what's going to happen next, so I have to hide the information about the "plan." I can do that with a small bit of telling to slip us right past that "secret" information. Now, if I want to transition past a long time period to move us from one scene to another, I might use another bit of telling. Telling is a great way to transition. So, now that I've shown Josh excited about some plan, I could transition past a whole week with a line like "Josh worked hard all week." It's telling, but it's done to move us along in the story past scenes that would either bore the reader or give the reader information we aren't ready to share yet.

How about "Josh looked very disappointed." I have to admit, this is a sentence I cannot imagine including in my work. You don't actually need a lot more words to show this: "Josh slumped, blinking back tears." Or "Josh's grin collapsed." Both would show a reaction and let the reader interpret it - therefore making the writing more engaging. Whenever you can leave the interpretation up to the reader, you're virtually always better off to do it.

Finally, "Josh often talked in class." To me, if this were important, I would show it. If it wasn't, I would probably omit it entirely. Showing it could be as short as "Josh had collected a lot of reminder sticks for talking in class." Or as long as:

But I could also imagine a scene where I might use the telling line exactly.

So, telling is not really such a hobgoblin. In transitions, telling can be a useful tool. But emotional telling - drawing conclusions for the reader - can usually be done a better way. So, it's still worthwhile to watch for that kind of telling and trade it in for brief, specific showing.

Adverbs

Many children's writers have an absolute horror of adverbs. Others love them - embrace them - and scatter them throughout their work like rice at a wedding. The best road probably winds between these two extremes.

So, what is an adverb (for those of us long out of grade school grammar classes). An adverb is a word or phrase that modifies a verb. An adverb tells how something is done. Here are some adverbs in action:

The adverbs in these sentences are brightly, swiftly, slowly and "mashing his words together into a garbled mess" (this last being a participial phrase doing the job of an adverb - more than you wanted to know, right?). Technically "at the camera" and "toward its prey" and "to the principle's office" are also adverbs modifying the verb by telling where (prepositional phrases often act as adverbs - but rarely terrify writers). The first step to deciding if you want to get rid of an adverb is to ask yourself - is there a single verb that combines the meaning of the verb and adverb shown? Try rewriting with the verb and consider the result.

We really can't omit the prepositional phrases without seriously altering the meaning of the sentences. Adverbs of "where" are sometimes essential. The combination of adverbs and verbs make all of these sentences shorter. Short is powerful by definition because a short sentence allows our brains to give weight to the full sentence where longer sentences can get diluted in the reading process. Since powerful is good, does that mean we should always get rid of these -ly adverbs? Before we decide, consider these sentences:

In these cases, the adverb cannot be included in the verb because it contradicts our normal reading of the verb. We tend to associate bellowing with rage and grinning with happiness. But we could imagine someone bellowing cheerfully and we could imagine someone grinning viciously - the addition of the adverb shapes our imagination in specific ways. In those cases, to omit the adverb would totally eliminate an important element in each sentence. This is why we cannot simply issue a blanket statement to omit all -ly words without exception. They can be vital elements in a sentence.

Bugaboos and Hobgoblins

So does this mean there are no rules? Yes, it pretty much does. Writing is about guidelines, not rules. We know many writers use these things poorly so it is worthwhile to give these elements extra attention to be certain we have used them purposefully and well. Passive voice creeps into many nonfiction articles because writers feel it sounds professional and academic - but unless it's serving a specific purpose, mostly it just makes your nonfiction dull and wordy. Telling creeps into both fiction and nonfiction because it's easy and fast - but unless it's limited to transitions and very specific purpose, mostly it distances the reader and flattens the emotional impact of your work. Adverbs seem like an easy way to add showing, but unless used carefully they simply add word count and a sing-song quality to your voice. There is a right time for everything - be sure you're choosing that right time.