This rule doesn’t require an explanation. I have noticed that writers who use ”suddenly” tend to exercise less control in the application of exclamation points.
Bless this little heart, this white soul that has
won the kiss of heaven for our earth.
He loves the light of the sun,
he loves the sight of his mother’s face.
He has not learned to despise the dust,
and to hanker after gold.
Clasp him to your heart and bless him.
He has come into this land of an hundred crossroads.
I know not how he chose you from the crowd,
came to your door, and grasped your hand
to ask his way.
He will follow you, laughing and talking,
and not a doubt in his heart.
Keep his trust, lead him straight and bless him
Lay your hand on his head, and pray
that though the waves underneath grow threatening,
yet the breath from above may come and
fill his sails and
waft him to the heaven of peace.
– Rabindranath Tagore
I am that.
I am that which is highest.
I am that which is lowest.
I am that which is All.
– Julian of Norwich
You are allowed no more than two or three per 100,000 words of prose. If you have the knack of playing with exclaimers the way Tom Wolfe does, you can throw them in by the handful.
Source: New York Times
Never use an adverb to modify the verb ”said” . . .
. . . he admonished gravely. To use an adverb this way (or almost any way) is a mortal sin. The writer is now exposing himself in earnest, using a word that distracts and can interrupt the rhythm of the exchange. I have a character in one of my books tell how she used to write historical romances ”full of rape and adverbs.”
Source: New York Times
Have you ever seen
anything
in your life
more wonderful
than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon
and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone–
and how it slides again
out of the blackness,
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower
streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance–
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love–
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure
that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you
as you stand there,
empty-handed–
or have you too
turned from this world–
or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?
– Mary Oliver
Never use a verb other than ”said” to carry dialogue.
The line of dialogue belongs to the character; the verb is the writer sticking his nose in. But said is far less intrusive than grumbled, gasped, cautioned, lied. I once noticed Mary McCarthy ending a line of dialogue with ”she asseverated,” and had to stop reading to get the dictionary.
Source: New York Times
