Scary Good Tool 2: Adjectives
Another first-rate way to make your
writing scary good is to use precisely the right adjectives to make
your story come to life. Adjectives are the nuts and bolts of
description. As you know,
adjectives describe people, places and things. Our next story shows
you how picking the right adjectives not only shape the people, places and
things in a story, but just might make you a hero.
Too late, Mr. Butt, I already am a hero.
Really?
Yes, once I saved a file on my computer.
Saved a… Egad, I wish someone would save me from teaching this teaching assignment. Ah well, let’s get on with the story of the adjective salesman before I lose my temper.
Too late, Mr. Butt, I already am a hero.
Really?
Yes, once I saved a file on my computer.
Saved a… Egad, I wish someone would save me from teaching this teaching assignment. Ah well, let’s get on with the story of the adjective salesman before I lose my temper.
You Are What You Read.
In the town of Blandsville, there lived a lackluster group of people with no personality at all. They wore gray hats, gray clothes, and gray shoes. They lived in gray houses and drove gray cars. They worked in lackluster jobs. They never had interesting conversations. Hello was about all anyone could manage before he was bored to tears. Blandsville was a dull, dull place.
One day, a stranger rode his peddler’s wagon into the miserable town. He opened the back of the wagon and stood upon the tail gate. He had slick black hair and a waxed corkscrew mustache. He wore a raven’s black suit with a splash of red bowtie under his plump chin. There was something not quite right about his eyes. They shimmered with an eerie glow even though he stood in the shade.
“Step right up, ladies and gentlemen. I have adjectives for sale; adjectives that will brighten your friends, your town and yourselves.”
“Step right up, ladies and gentlemen. I have adjectives for sale; adjectives that will brighten your friends, your town and yourselves.”
The mayor of the town, a certain Mr. Dreery, stepped forward and cleared his throat. He wore a dull grey suit that matched his dull grey complexion. “See here, fellow, what are these adjectives of which you speak?”
“Why an adjective can make you happy or sad or just plain loony. An adjective can make a horse brown or a dog green if you like. Adjectives can make a home a happy one. Adjectives can make food hot and tasty. Adjectives describe nouns, you see; nouns are people, places and things. Adjectives make your nouns come to life. They can make you see, hear, taste, smell and feel them. They can stir emotions. Here’s an adjective for you to try on, Mr. Mayor. It’s the adjective silly.”
The mayor took the adjective silly and tried it on. His eyes bugged out. He put his hand under his arm pit and started making rude noises. “Why, I feel positively giddy,” he said. He began spanking himself with a rubber chicken while singing Yankee Doodle Dandy. The mayor had become quite silly. He was indeed a silly mayor. Can’t you just see him?
“Give me another adjective, please,” Mayor Dreery said.
“Here’s an adjective to describe your suit. It’s is the adjective sky blue.”
The mayor’s suit became sky blue. Everyone who saw the sky blue suit thought of a sunny day.
“These adjectives are wonderful. Everyone, come and get your adjectives.”
The townsfolk bunched around the wagon. The stranger with the glowing eyes handed out joyful and curious and clean and cloudless. He handed out the colors blue and brown. And descriptive words such as glossy, tickling, delighted, sincere and loud.
Soon the town was bustling with activity. Joyful people rode flashy bicycles under a cloudless blue sky. A brown dog barked and scampered down the clean streets. Curious children searched for glossy beetles in the tickling bushes. The delighted Miss Perkins accepted the mayor’s sincere proposal to marry her. The people clapped and cheered a loud huzzah.
The stranger cleared his throat to get their attention. The townsfolk turned to him. His eyes glowed menacingly.
"Now it is time to pay for your adjectives. I want all your children. Every last one of them."
The mayor stammered, "All the children?”
“All of them.”
The mayor laughed. "Or what? Now that we have all these adjectives you can't take them back."
“But I can change them." He waved his arms and the blue sky changed to a stormy grey one. The small glossy beetles changed into giant hungry ones. The flashy bikes corroded into rusted wrecks. The colorful clothes turned gray again. The joyful people became fearful.
Just then a little nine-year-old boy named Evan stepped out of the crowd and said softly, "Why can't we just make up our own adjectives? Sounds easy to me. An adjective describes a person, place or thing. And this fella doesn't own all the adjectives."
The smile on the stranger's face wilted a bit. "Don't listen to this sprout. Just gather up your children and pay me. I'll be on my way and keep all the adjectives you want."
“I mean to say if I wanted to be a happy little boy. I'd just use the adjective happy to describe myself." He laughed and danced in the street. "You see, I'm a happy boy."
The townspeople stared at the little boy and scratched their chins.
"Now watch this. If I want to be a scary boy, I’ll just use the adjective scary.” His gleaming white teeth lengthened into sharp fangs. "You see I'm a scary boy now.”
"And now I'll use the adjective hairy." And the boy changed again. Dark brown hair sprouted all over him.
The crowd gasped.
"And now I'm going to use the adjective hungry,” the scary, hairy boy said. His jagged fangs gleamed. He licked his lips and stalked toward the peddler. "I’m a hungry boy."
The man with the handlebar mustache screamed and slapped shut the tail gate to his wagon. He jumped into the front seat, shook the reins, and took off, never to be seen again.
The relieved town picked up the bright hungry boy onto their shoulders and carried him to the local diner for a delicious hot dog smothered in ketchup.
“Why an adjective can make you happy or sad or just plain loony. An adjective can make a horse brown or a dog green if you like. Adjectives can make a home a happy one. Adjectives can make food hot and tasty. Adjectives describe nouns, you see; nouns are people, places and things. Adjectives make your nouns come to life. They can make you see, hear, taste, smell and feel them. They can stir emotions. Here’s an adjective for you to try on, Mr. Mayor. It’s the adjective silly.”
The mayor took the adjective silly and tried it on. His eyes bugged out. He put his hand under his arm pit and started making rude noises. “Why, I feel positively giddy,” he said. He began spanking himself with a rubber chicken while singing Yankee Doodle Dandy. The mayor had become quite silly. He was indeed a silly mayor. Can’t you just see him?
“Give me another adjective, please,” Mayor Dreery said.
“Here’s an adjective to describe your suit. It’s is the adjective sky blue.”
The mayor’s suit became sky blue. Everyone who saw the sky blue suit thought of a sunny day.
“These adjectives are wonderful. Everyone, come and get your adjectives.”
The townsfolk bunched around the wagon. The stranger with the glowing eyes handed out joyful and curious and clean and cloudless. He handed out the colors blue and brown. And descriptive words such as glossy, tickling, delighted, sincere and loud.
Soon the town was bustling with activity. Joyful people rode flashy bicycles under a cloudless blue sky. A brown dog barked and scampered down the clean streets. Curious children searched for glossy beetles in the tickling bushes. The delighted Miss Perkins accepted the mayor’s sincere proposal to marry her. The people clapped and cheered a loud huzzah.
The stranger cleared his throat to get their attention. The townsfolk turned to him. His eyes glowed menacingly.
"Now it is time to pay for your adjectives. I want all your children. Every last one of them."
The mayor stammered, "All the children?”
“All of them.”
The mayor laughed. "Or what? Now that we have all these adjectives you can't take them back."
“But I can change them." He waved his arms and the blue sky changed to a stormy grey one. The small glossy beetles changed into giant hungry ones. The flashy bikes corroded into rusted wrecks. The colorful clothes turned gray again. The joyful people became fearful.
Just then a little nine-year-old boy named Evan stepped out of the crowd and said softly, "Why can't we just make up our own adjectives? Sounds easy to me. An adjective describes a person, place or thing. And this fella doesn't own all the adjectives."
The smile on the stranger's face wilted a bit. "Don't listen to this sprout. Just gather up your children and pay me. I'll be on my way and keep all the adjectives you want."
“I mean to say if I wanted to be a happy little boy. I'd just use the adjective happy to describe myself." He laughed and danced in the street. "You see, I'm a happy boy."
The townspeople stared at the little boy and scratched their chins.
"Now watch this. If I want to be a scary boy, I’ll just use the adjective scary.” His gleaming white teeth lengthened into sharp fangs. "You see I'm a scary boy now.”
"And now I'll use the adjective hairy." And the boy changed again. Dark brown hair sprouted all over him.
The crowd gasped.
"And now I'm going to use the adjective hungry,” the scary, hairy boy said. His jagged fangs gleamed. He licked his lips and stalked toward the peddler. "I’m a hungry boy."
The man with the handlebar mustache screamed and slapped shut the tail gate to his wagon. He jumped into the front seat, shook the reins, and took off, never to be seen again.
The relieved town picked up the bright hungry boy onto their shoulders and carried him to the local diner for a delicious hot dog smothered in ketchup.
Who would have thought it, Mr. Butt?
Who would have thought what, Bonefish? That a part of speech like an adjective could save a town?
No, that that kid wanted a hot dog. Do you know what’s in those things? Pig noses and butts and little chunks of intestines…
Hush up, Bonefish. I happen to like hot dogs.
I do, too. I had this Korean neighbor once. She used to make the best hot dogs. She got them straight from the pound. Have you ever tasted baked Chihuahua right out of the oven?
I am not interested in your eating habits, Bonefish. Let’s stick to Scary Good Writing. Here’s an exercise to help you pick just the right adjectives to set the mood of a story.
Who would have thought what, Bonefish? That a part of speech like an adjective could save a town?
No, that that kid wanted a hot dog. Do you know what’s in those things? Pig noses and butts and little chunks of intestines…
Hush up, Bonefish. I happen to like hot dogs.
I do, too. I had this Korean neighbor once. She used to make the best hot dogs. She got them straight from the pound. Have you ever tasted baked Chihuahua right out of the oven?
I am not interested in your eating habits, Bonefish. Let’s stick to Scary Good Writing. Here’s an exercise to help you pick just the right adjectives to set the mood of a story.
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Lesson Review
Want me to read what I wrote, Mr. Butt?
Of course, Bonefish.
Jimmy walked towards the furry mansion. A bushy tree stood in front of the hairy house…
Bonefish!
What’s wrong, Mr. Butt?
Of course, Bonefish.
Jimmy walked towards the furry mansion. A bushy tree stood in front of the hairy house…
Bonefish!
What’s wrong, Mr. Butt?
I'm in a hairy mood.
Furry mansion? Bushy tree in front of the hairy house?
Yes, the prompt says create a hairy mood.
It says scary mood, Bonefish! Whoever heard of a hairy mood? Oh, I’m feeling quite hairy today. It certainly is a hairy morning. Egads, Bonefish, read instructions carefully. (You, too, students, read instructions carefully. You want to be sure you are following directions.) Now listen to my example:
Jimmy walked towards the creepy mansion. The lifeless leaves of a fading oak rustled in a chill wind. An uneven path of broken stones led to the ramshackle porch. He stepped onto the creaking floorboards and crept toward the door. He raised the rusted doorknocker and dropped it with a cavernous thud. He heard a frail whisper come from inside the moldering house.
Hey, that’s good, Mr. Butt. I have goosebumps on my arms.
That’s because I picked just the right adjectives to create a scary mood.
Let me try again, Mr. Butt. Listen:
Jimmy walked towards the very creepy, sinister, deserted, frightening mansion. The dry, brown, dying, withered leaves of a gasping, creepy, dead, twisted oak rustled in an icy, cold, chilly, wicked wind.
Hold it! Hold it! You’ve got way too many adjectives, Bonefish. An enemy of good writing is using too many adjectives when one strong precise adjective will do. Try again. Pick the adjective that bests suit the mood or image you are trying to convey.
Okay.
Jimmy walked towards the sinister mansion. The dying leaves of a gasping oak rustled in a wicked wind.
Excellent. You see how one strong adjective can do the work of three similar or weak ones.
Adjectives are easy to use once you understand the purpose of picking just the right one.
That’s right. Let’s see how you changed the mood to a happy one.
Hold on, Mr. Butt. Now that I know how to pick the right adjectives, can I do my cheerful example over real quick?
Go ahead.
I’m ready.
That was fast. Let’s hear what you wrote.
Jimmy walked towards the cheery mansion. The dancing leaves of a contented oak rustled in a gentle wind. A meandering path of smooth stones led to the dazzling porch. He stepped onto the polished floorboards and crept toward the door. He raised the gleaming doorknocker and dropped it with a bright thud. He heard a giggling whisper come from inside the cheerful house.
Ye gads, Bonefish!
What’s wrong?
Nothing’s wrong. That’s what surprised me. Marvelous job.
You know, picking the right adjective is another scary good way to keep a reader reading and wanting to know what happens next.
And that’s the goal of Scary Good Writing.
Yes, the prompt says create a hairy mood.
It says scary mood, Bonefish! Whoever heard of a hairy mood? Oh, I’m feeling quite hairy today. It certainly is a hairy morning. Egads, Bonefish, read instructions carefully. (You, too, students, read instructions carefully. You want to be sure you are following directions.) Now listen to my example:
Jimmy walked towards the creepy mansion. The lifeless leaves of a fading oak rustled in a chill wind. An uneven path of broken stones led to the ramshackle porch. He stepped onto the creaking floorboards and crept toward the door. He raised the rusted doorknocker and dropped it with a cavernous thud. He heard a frail whisper come from inside the moldering house.
Hey, that’s good, Mr. Butt. I have goosebumps on my arms.
That’s because I picked just the right adjectives to create a scary mood.
Let me try again, Mr. Butt. Listen:
Jimmy walked towards the very creepy, sinister, deserted, frightening mansion. The dry, brown, dying, withered leaves of a gasping, creepy, dead, twisted oak rustled in an icy, cold, chilly, wicked wind.
Hold it! Hold it! You’ve got way too many adjectives, Bonefish. An enemy of good writing is using too many adjectives when one strong precise adjective will do. Try again. Pick the adjective that bests suit the mood or image you are trying to convey.
Okay.
Jimmy walked towards the sinister mansion. The dying leaves of a gasping oak rustled in a wicked wind.
Excellent. You see how one strong adjective can do the work of three similar or weak ones.
Adjectives are easy to use once you understand the purpose of picking just the right one.
That’s right. Let’s see how you changed the mood to a happy one.
Hold on, Mr. Butt. Now that I know how to pick the right adjectives, can I do my cheerful example over real quick?
Go ahead.
I’m ready.
That was fast. Let’s hear what you wrote.
Jimmy walked towards the cheery mansion. The dancing leaves of a contented oak rustled in a gentle wind. A meandering path of smooth stones led to the dazzling porch. He stepped onto the polished floorboards and crept toward the door. He raised the gleaming doorknocker and dropped it with a bright thud. He heard a giggling whisper come from inside the cheerful house.
Ye gads, Bonefish!
What’s wrong?
Nothing’s wrong. That’s what surprised me. Marvelous job.
You know, picking the right adjective is another scary good way to keep a reader reading and wanting to know what happens next.
And that’s the goal of Scary Good Writing.
Are you picking your nose? Go to the next lesson.
