Adverbs: Less Is More

It’s common advice in writers’ workshops that adverbs should be replaced with active verbs whenever possible, and that you shouldn’t use too many adverbs.  But how many adverbs is too many?  I decided to find out.

My Methodology

I went to three respected literary magazines and randomly selected the following three stories:

Bogdonoff, Nathan. ”Indoor Animals.” New England Review, Vol. 39, No. 4 (2018).

Li, Yiyun. “All Will Be Well.” New Yorker. 11 March 2019. 

Roth, Philip.  “Goodbye Columbus.” Paris Review, Issue 20, Autumn-Winter 1958-1959.

I copied and pasted the stories into Word, searched for “ly” and highlighted the adverbs in blue.  Then I copied the phrases or sentences in which they appeared into a separate document, and counted the number of occurrences (no, I am not always this OCD).

Then I averaged the three to find a good target number (okay, maybe I am always this OCD).  In all three instances, the number of adverbs represented less than 1% of the total number of words in the story.

What I Learned

Adverbs should represent less than 1% of your total word count.

When you do use an adverb, it should be to describe an action for which there is not a better verb.  Examples:

  • “I never called ahead, and rarely had to wait” – we don’t have a verb that expresses waiting as a rare occurrence.
  • “I may say it a bit too ringingly, too fast, too up-in-the-air, but I say it” – again, there’s no particular verb to express this particular style of speaking
  • “The fawn is peeing, steadily and unabashedly, all over the floor.” – I don’t mean to be gross, but we don’t have a polite verb for sustained or shame-free urination.

Sometimes, adverbs are used deliberately for effect:

  • “these were my most tiresome traits, and I used them tirelessly”
  • “They looked like two lambs, impeccably prepared by their elders as sacrifices to appease a beast or a god.”

Sometimes it seems to be about characterization or voice:

  • “She dove beautifully”
  • “The darker it got the more savagely did Brenda rush the net”
  • “I wasn’t entirely free from the demands of stating my opinions”

Adverbs also appear to be commonly used to express time:

  • rarely
  • finally
  • suddenly (which should be used sparingly, BTW)
  • recently, etc.

Click here to see the data set.

San Pedro Riparian National Conservation Area

As part of the Spotlight on Speakers series, Gabrielle LaFargue will present an historical overview of the land designated as the San Pedro Riparian National Conservation Area by the Bureau of Land Management in the late 1980s. The 1880s silver boom was significant to the development of this area.

A slideshow presentation will include historical photos as well as flora and fauna photos of this important natural habitat.

This event will be held on Thursday, March 7th at 10 a.m. at the Huachuca City Town Hall located at 500 Gonzalez Blvd.

The Friends We Leave, the Friends Who Leave Us

Two weeks ago today, as I write this, my closest friend left all of us behind, going on to whatever, if anything, is next. She left behind a lot of broken hearts and fond memories. Fortunately, because she was a wonderful writer of poetry and prose, a painter, a musician, and much more, we will have tangible things to hold near to revive those memories.

Cappy Love Hanson portrait

Cappy left “too soon,” of course. Far earlier than any of us would have wished. Frankly, we would have wished that she would never leave and spare us that pain. Never mind that if we were the ones to leave first, we would be inflicting that pain of leaving on her.

Such is the nature of our feelings about those we hold most dear, even at times when letting go is the kindest thing to do. I do not think that was the case this time, but what do I know?

To continue reading, please click here.

Local Lit Mag: Rain Shadow Review

I promised my friend KL that I’d give this journal a local shout-out, so here’s some info on this unique publication and reading opportunity.

Rain Shadow Review is the brainchild of Arizona poet Richard Shelton, whose involvement with prison writing workshops goes all the way back to 1974.  The writing in the magazine comes from current or former inmates of the Arizona prison system.

The last three issues of Rain Shadow Review have been edited by UA professor Erec Toso.

Online, you’ll find intriguing poems, truly stunning artwork, and a gripping prose piece about SIDS by Steven P. Arthur.

If you stop by the University of Arizona Poetry Center Library, you can pick up your latest copy of Rain Shadow Review – you should, it’s free and it’s good reading.

If you’ve ever been in jail or prison, you could become a contributor to this magazine.  Visit online at or mail a COPY of your best writing to: 

Rain Shadow Review
P.O. Box 85462
Tucson, AZ  85754-5462

Broaden your horizons with Literary Guild Book Club

To grow as a writer, you know that you have to do two things: read, and write. Without accountability, reading seriously or writing regularly can be a real challenge.

One easy way to gain accountability and to force yourself to read outside your genre is to join a local book club. I belong to the “Lit Guild,” which is a student club sponsored by Cochise College and open to all members of the community. Every semester there’s a different theme. In the past we’ve read dystopian novels, magical realism, and books about trains, to name a few topics.

This semester, the theme is Literary Memoirs. Here’s the skinny on upcoming meetings:

  • Friday, February 15th, 11:30 AM-1:00 PM The Water is Wide by Pat Conroy Room 901, Cochise College, Sierra Vista Campus (901 N. Columbo Ave).
  • Friday, March 22nd, 11:30 AM-1:00 PM Educated by Tara Westover. Room 901, Cochise College, Sierra Vista Campus (901 N. Columbo Ave).
  • Friday, April 26th, 11:30 AM-1:00 PM Hillbilly Elegy by J.D. Vance. Off-campus meeting at Get Lit. Bookstore, (1502 E. Fry Blvd. Sierra Vista)

Club facilitator Mary Coyle says, “Roxanna at Get Lit Books carries our titles, often at a discount. Please support Sierra Vista’s great little bookstore! Go to or call (520) 843-0101.”

For more information, contact Mary Coyle at <>.

Clip art from

“Grimm’s Fairy Tales” Review

4-star rating

This lavishly illustrated volume, published in 1961 in London, contains only about 50 of the over 200 folktales Jakob and Wilhelm Grimm collected during their lifetimes. It includes, of course, some of the most famous: Cinderella, Hänsel and Grethel (Hansel and Gretel), Rapunzel, Snow-White, and Tom Thumb, among others.

One of the most interesting aspects of reading these original versions of the stories is how different they are from the Disney-fied versions. Cinderella, for example, had no fairy godmother, no pumpkin-carriage, no clock striking midnight, and no glass slipper, and each of her evil sisters mutilated themselves to try to fit a foot into the shoe she did leave behind.

Even in their day, some of the Grimms’ stories were so bloody, or included certain topics, that they were not considered suitable for children. None of the stories in this collection go quite that far, but perceptive readers will occasionally notice some “interesting” things going on in the background.

Many other stories are variations of the theme of the fool or peasant getting the better of the rich man or the king. Often they’re rewarded either with vast riches or the king’s almost-always beautiful daughter and then inherit the kingdom themselves. And of course they live happily ever after, although that phrase never appears in any of the stories in this collection.

Magic plays a role in some of these stories, but only a few, and fairies, elves, and their kind rarely appear, despite the English name for the collection—the original name was Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children’s and Household Tales)—and for the title of this book.

Political correctness was unknown in the Grimms’ day, so some of the stories relate negative stereotypes about residents of certain areas, like the seven Swabians who are so stupid they’re first terrified by a hare, then drown themselves in the Mosel River when they think the first one managed to walk across the bottom because they saw his hat float away. If you’ve never read any of these stories in their original form, this book is a good place to start.

“The Portable Walt Whitman” Review

4-star rating

Walt Whitman, and his contemporary Emily Dickinson, were the seminal poets of their era, and had influence on American poetry far beyond their lifetimes. Which, of course, means they get studied in English classes, and that’s where I first encountered this book, during my master’s degree studies.

These classes naturally focus on bits and pieces of his multi-edition collection, Leaves of Grass, and especially his “Song of Myself,” but I wanted to read this entire book, not only to get the full measure of Whitman’s poetry, but to read his prose writing, which gets far less attention. I’m glad I did.

The hallmarks of Whitman’s early work are not just how he abandoned the stiff formalism of the poetry that came before, but how he would pile up lists of the characteristics and qualities of whatever or whoever he was writing about. By reading more of his work, it’s possible to see how his writing evolved, how he moved away from the lists in his later work, especially after the Civil War.

Another aspect that comes out in a wider reading is his transcendentalist views: the unity and essential goodness of all things. He clearly took a lot of this from Ralph Waldo Emerson. That comes through in spades in his sometimes-fawning 1856 letter to Emerson, accompanying a copy of the latest version of Leaves, in which he calls the philosopher “Master” several times. This transcendentalism seems to get little attention in academic circles.

To read the rest of the review, please click here.

“The City in the Middle of the Night” Review

5-star rating
3-star rating

I’ve never done a review like this, but it’s been a long time, if ever, since I’ve read (and finished) a book like this. A single rating simply isn’t sufficient to capture my responses to the book, so there are three: five stars, three, and one.

5-star rating

Give Charlie Jane Anders five stars for her world-building and how it’s woven into the novel. January is a tidally locked planet, that is, it has one side that always faces its sun while the other side always faces away. Somehow humans decided it was habitable, at least in the thin band of twilight along what astronomers call the “terminator,” the dividing line between the dark and sunlit sides.

Anders not only creates this world and its native inhabitants, she creates a complete backstory of the humans in the generations ship who came to populate the planet, the vastly different cultures of the two major cities they founded, and groups of wanderers who travel between them. The cities, Xiosphant and Argelo, not only have highly distinct, and largely corrupt, governments, they have their own languages, currencies, and ways of dealing with the fact that the sun never rises or sets.

All of this is highly imaginative, well thought out, and skillfully integrated. The details never get in the way of the story Anders is telling. It’s a bravura performance.

Click here to find out what I gave this one-star rating to, and why, and what I gave the 3-star rating.

“The First Marine Captured in Vietnam” Review

4-star rating
"The First Marine Captured in Vietnam" cover

Don Cook was a young Marine Corps Captain, stationed on Okinawa but on a 90-day temporary duty assignment in South Vietnam when he was captured by the Viet Cong near the town of Binh Gia. From his capture on December 31, 1964, to his death on or about December 8, 1967, Cook was held in a number of primitive prisoner of war (POW) camps in South Vietnam. He and his fellow POWs, mostly Army officers and enlisted soldiers and one US government civilian suffered mental, emotional, and some physical abuse, near-starvation diets, minimal medical care despite the ravages of many tropical diseases, and exposure to the elements.

Through it all, Cook held himself to the highest standards of moral, professional, and personal conduct, often placing the health and welfare of his fellow POWs ahead of his own. He finally succumbed to malaria during an arduous trek between camps. Based on the testimony of his fellow POWs, who either escaped, were released during the war, or were repatriated at the end of the US involvement in Vietnam, Cook was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor. Later, a U.S. Navy destroyer, the USS Donald G. Cook, DDG-75, was named for him.

Author Donald L. Price, himself a retired Marine Colonel, used extensive interviews with family members, friends, Cook’s fellow POWs, senior military leaders, plus thorough research to put together this story of faith, courage, sacrifice, and almost unbreakable will to live. Readers will have no doubt that Cook fully earned the Medal.

To read the rest of the review, please click here.

“Science and the Arts” Review

4-star rating

“Science and the Arts” is one of a large series of magazine-like books, or book-like magazines, that Scientific American offers to its subscribers as a reward for renewing their subscription. Each contains a collection of articles from the magazine that relate to some general topic, in this case, as the subtitle of the work indicates, “the interrelationship of science and art.”

Published sometime in the mid- to late 1990s, this volume contains articles that span nearly four decades, from 1955 to 1994, and cover topics ranging from the creative process to visual art, sculpture, music, and perception. There’s even a long poem by John Updike.

Because of the age of the articles, it’s fair to assume that the science of each topic covered has advanced, probably significantly. Even so, each reports on important advances in the state of knowledge at the time they were originally published. One article explains the physics of violins, and how small differences in construction can have significant effects on the quality of the sound a given instrument produces. Another examines how players of the valveless baroque trumpet were able to clearly play the full range of notes written for their instruments, even though the construction of the horn worked against doing so. George Rickey explains how he was able to make exquisitely balanced, multi-piece metal sculptures that move effortlessly in even the slightest breeze.

As a long-time subscriber to Scientific American, I was interested to note how the articles have changed over the years. The pieces in this collection are typically far longer than what you’ll find today and the language is denser. Not surprisingly, yesterday’s artwork and illustrations are far less sophisticated than today’s.

While the pieces are all dated, some significantly so, I still found most of them fascinating and enlightening. For someone who is interested in how science and art interact—and they most certainly do—this book is worth picking up if you can find a copy. Recommended.

“Adventures, Outlaws and Past Events” Review

4-star rating

In this, the final book in the Icelandic Folktales series, we leave behind the ghosts, ghouls, and goblins of the previous books. As the title might suggest, the stories are generally longer than in the first two books, and humans are the only characters.

Magic still plays a role at times. In one story, the poor friend of two princes follows them as they seek fame and fortune. At each royal house where they winter-over, the poor boy makes himself useful to the royal family, and earns a magical boon as his reward, while the princes do nothing, but have to pay handsomely for their room and board. Finally, the three adventurers arrive at the castle of a harridan virgin queen. She allows only eunuchs in her court, and any man who refuses is banished to a desert island. The princes decide that no price is too high to be a member of the court. The boy declines, but uses his magical gifts to keep not only himself but the other men on the island healthy and whole. Despite her threats to his life, he finally wins the queen’s heart and the throne next to hers. The princes come out all right in the end too. The new king keeps one to be his advisor, and sends the other home to succeed his father.

This story is typical of the length and complexity of the tales in this volume, although not all, such as the story of the outlaw Axlar-Bjorn and his wife Steinunn doesn’t end so happily, at least not for the outlaws.

The book ends with an odd collection of sayings and jokes, like the two men complaining about how things were better in the olden days, when there were frequent fights in church! Spoken like the true descendants of Vikings, I guess. As I have for the first two books, I’ll recommend this one especially for readers looking for folk tales from new places.

“Elves, Trolls and Elemental Beings” Review

4-star rating

This is book two of the Icelandic Folktales series.

The island of Iceland sits at the north end of the Atlantic Ocean, just south of the Arctic Circle. While the Gulf Stream, which passes by on the south side moderates temperatures some, Icelandic weather is highly changeable, and winter nights are very long. No surprise, then, that long, dark, nights, howling winds, blizzards, and oh by the way, volcanoes, can take the imaginations of isolated farmers and travelers in dark directions.

In these stories, trolls and especially trollwives are the bane of the traveler and the shepherd watching over his flock in isolated summer pastures, often luring them to their death, slavery, or even transformation into trolls themselves.

Icelandic elves bear no resemblance to, say, J.R.R. Tolkien’s. They can be every bit as devious and evil as the trolls, just smaller. They stick closer to settlements, too. They look like humans (no pointy ears here) but control whether humans can see them. And elves and humans can sometimes have not-so-dangerous relations, but the humans are always one misstep away from trouble. And that trouble can be serious indeed.

There are stories of mermaids, seals who take human form, and even a whale, not surprising for the residents of an island for whom ocean fishing was an important task.

While dark, the stories often feature humans overcoming the dangers they face, although sometimes at a high price.

As with book 1, this volume is recommended for the reader looking for new and different folk tales.

“Ghosts, Witchcraft and the Other World” Review

4-star rating

This is the first book in the Icelandic Folktales series. The stories were originally collected by Jón Árnason and Magnús Grímsson in the 1800s, and were translated by Alan Boucher in the 1970s. This volume features stories of ghosts, witches, and the Devil himself.

Iceland is a beautiful but rugged country with ferocious and highly changeable weather. Early farmers lived far apart on isolated farmsteads. Life was hard, so it’s no surprise that the supernatural world was real and near to them. Ghosts and other spirits walked among them, often with malicious intent. The Devil was around too, but not as the nearly all-powerful being imagined in Continental Europe and the Americas. Here, he could not only be bargained with, he could be beaten or fooled, and often was. On top of this, unlike Christian clerics elsewhere, many priests were also adepts, with various magical powers, and they could often be called upon to undo a curse or relieve a spell or haunting.

Boucher has not tried to pretty-up the language of these stories, retaining the plain wording and simple styles that Árnason and Grímsson originally captured, but readers are likely to stumble over the place names, whose origins are in old Scandinavian tongues, especially Norwegian.

If you’re interested in the folktales from faraway lands but are tired of those from England or Central Europe, you can be transported back in time and space with this book and its companions. Recommended.

“Endurance” Review

5-star rating

Scott Kelly’s early life as a kid from West Orange, New Jersey, just west of New York City, gave no hint of what he and his twin brother Mark would become. Scott in particular was a mediocre student at best, drifting through school, even junior college, just getting by. Until he read Tom Wolfe’s The Right Stuff, the story of the seven original US astronauts.

That book sparked the passion in him that led him to become a Navy F-14 pilot, a test pilot, and ultimately an astronaut who would fly both the Space Shuttle and on the International Space Station. His final mission aboard the ISS lasted nearly a year. That year would prove to be a true test of endurance—mental and emotional more than physical—for not only him, but his ex-wife, their two daughters, and his girlfriend. Those of us who have experienced long-term military deployments to far-off foreign lands, especially in the days when we had little or no contact with our loved ones back home, can certainly relate to his struggles. For those who have not had that experience, Kelly’s story can be revealing.

Endurance is more than a story of that struggle, however. It’s also a fascinating look into how the US and Russian space programs differ, especially in their attitudes and approaches to doing something that is dangerous and hard every single day. The hard and dangerous parts don’t end with arrival at the station. Not only are the astronauts scientists and engineers, they’re also mechanics. When something breaks—especially something critical like one of the devices that scrubs carbon dioxide out of the air, or either of the two toilets—it’s up to the astronauts to fix it. While it’s true they get lots of advice and guidance from the teams on the ground, the astronauts are the ones who have to do the physical work.

To read the rest of the review, please click here.

“In the Palm of Your Hand” Review

4-star rating

I dabble in writing poetry, so years ago a now-deceased poet-acquaintance recommended I pick up a copy of Steve Kowit’s book. At the time, I couldn’t get more than a few chapters into Palm because I wasn’t ready for it. It went back on the shelf.

Since then, my poems have been well received, even sweeping the poetry awards at a local writers’ conference last year. So a few months ago, I decided it was time to give the book another try. Four chapters in, I stalled out again, but after a few weeks away from it, I decided to keep going. I’m glad I did.

The book’s two subtitles, “The poet’s portable workshop,” and “A lively and illuminating guide for the practicing poet” turned out to be accurate. Chapters 2 to 27 (of 30) end with exercises to encourage the reader to practice the topics discussed, and it was the exercises in chapters 2-4 that caused me to put the book down. Kowit was asking me to do things I wasn’t comfortable doing, dredging up old, perhaps unhappy memories. While this sort of material can certainly produce powerful poetry, this demand this early in the book is one of my few major complaints. Perhaps for the “practicing poet,” this kind of work is less challenging, but for the novice, particularly someone uninterested in revisiting those times, this can be intimidating enough to cause him or her to stop reading and stop trying. It would have been better, for this reader anyway, if these chapters had been placed later in the book.

To read the rest of this review, please click here.