Quietly, gently, quickly: weak words.
They're littered through my prose. I rewrite parts of my novel, pinching them from sentences and watching the strength of the piece tighten and hold. There is impact where there once was none.
You can't sink your teeth into an adverb. They have no flavour, no punch. They relax the tension and slow down the pace. They don't lock your gaze or make your knuckles shake from grasping a book. They're fluff.
I'm not saying we should do away with them all. I'm certain you can go through my blog posts, through my short stories, first drafts, even second drafts and my natural way of writing and easily point the finger. They're sneaky little things that crawl into my prose and tuck themselves next to other words; a little shadow acting as a guardian.
I'm picking them out, one by one.
What is your view on adverbs? Bathe in them? Scatter them? Plant them? Or exterminate them all?