Nouns and verbs and adjectives, oh my!
Some of you learned this in school, some of us didn't. Here's a refresher ...
Gary Bloomer | SHAKING THE TREE # 279
You’re here because somewhere, deep down, you know you have something to say.
It could be a report or a novel.
Maybe it’s a blog post, or, heaven forbid, a manifesto.
And although you know you need to write this thing, whatever it is, you’re also stuck in that purgatory between I should be writing this and I can’t write this! Sometimes, that’s because we talk ourselves out of getting on with writing. At other times though it may be because we’re rusting on the mechanics of the process of writing.
Writing is an act of personal rebellion against the voices in your head that tell you you shouldn’t bother because no one will be interested
Here’s the core truth though: You’re better qualified to write whatever needs to be written about than you think you are.
That internal memo? You’ve already lived it a dozen times over.
That product description? You know its flaws and triumphs inside out and back to front in ways that no hired gun ever could.
Your personal story? It’s yours alone.
At heart though, and because being a content creator is a lonely existence, there are times when we all need someone to cheer us on and offer us a leg up. Having been my own worst enemy and my only advocate, I know this too well.
So, what’s all this Nouns and verbs and adjectives, oh my! stuff about?
Well, it’s both a reminder and a primer. As I mentioned above, lots of people learned the rules of writing in school (personally, I have no recollection of learning about nouns and verbs and such, which for many years put me at a disadvantage).
But for most of us, school was a long time ago; memories fade and unused skills get rusty. And whether they admit it or not even highly experienced writers need help from time to time. They may not be willing to admit as much but they do.
I’m regularly flummoxed by a point of grammar or style and I often find myself referring to a reference book or to a file of cheat sheets. The point is knowing that clarity beats cleverness and that rules are just tools to get you there.
The nuts and bolts (without the tedium)
So, let’s reset the basics. Not because any of us are stupid, but simply because we were probably taught this stuff in the most soul-crushingly abstract way imaginable.
Think of this as your writer’s essential toolbox. You don’t need to admire the hammer; you simply need to know how to swing it to hit the nail on the head.
1. Nouns: the cornerstones of language.
Nouns aren’t just words for things. They are your anchors. Every sentence needs one or you’re just floating in space.
The basic three: Things (wrench, algorithm, anxiety, house, automobile), Places (warehouse, server, headspace, cupboard), People (client, user, pedestrian, driver, that guy from procurement).
Proper nouns: The VIPs. They get the capital letter because they’re specific. London, Apple, NHS, Beyoncé. My rule? If you’re referring to a specific, singular person, place, or entity, capitalise it: Bill Clinton, Philadelphia, Post Office. If you’re talking about general government, geography, or unspecified services don’t. It’s a sign of respect for the reader’s attention. Likewise, I urge you to do as much as possible to avoid Capitalizing Every Word In A Headline (as is the case with The New York Times) Or In A Sentence. It’s as unnecessary as it is annoying.
Compound nouns: The workhorses of writing. Website footer, user experience, coffee break, brain fart. My opinion? Stop hyphenating them to death. Language evolves. Login and email are now nouns, something that’s taken me 15 years to fully wrap my mind around. Let’s move on.
2. Verbs: the power source of all engaging writing.
Verbs don’t simply describe actions. They are the engine of your sentence. Weak verbs derail trains of thought and sink ships of conversational cargo.
Weak: “The meeting was held by the manager.”
Strong: “The manager hosted the meeting.” (Better)
Stronger: “The manager chaired, dominated, salvaged, or derailed the meeting.” (See? The verb tells the whole story.)
My cheat: Hunt down every “is,” “was,” “have,” “make,” and see if you can replace it with a verb that does something.
3. Adjectives: the spice. Use them sparingly.
Adjectives describe qualities, but overuse is the hallmark of an amateur. Don’t write “the incredibly difficult, complex problem.” Write “the quagmire.” Let the strong noun do the work. A single, perfect adjective is worth three mediocre ones.
4. Adverbs: the suspects.
Adverbs describe verbs, but they are often a crime scene where a weak verb was murdered. “He ran quickly” means you were too lazy to write “he sprinted” or “he bolted.” My advice? Use them only when they change the meaning of the verb. “She ate slowly” tells us something. “She devoured her food” does not need “quickly.” It’s implied.
Forget trying to write “well.” Just write clearly.
Anchor your sentence with a solid noun.
Power it with a specific, active verb.
Prune the lazy adjectives and suspect adverbs.
Read it ALOUD. If you stumble, your reader will fall. Fix it.
Here’s another way of looking at these four essential parts of writing.
Think of each sentence you write as a movie scene and each paragraph as sequence of related events.
Nouns are your cast and props. They’re the who and the what in the scene.
Examples: manager, spreadsheet, office, coffee, table.
Verbs are the action. They’re what the cast does, the movement of the scene.
Examples: types, presented, argued, collapsed, punched.
Adjectives are the costume and set design. They describe the look and feel of your nouns.
Examples: stressed manager, endless spreadsheet, corner office, cold coffee, wobbly table.
Adverbs are the direction notes. They describe how the action is performed.
Examples: types frantically, presented briefly, argued persuasively, collapsed suddenly.
My rule of thumb:
Your nouns and verbs are your star actors—choose ones that are strong, specific, and memorable. Their purpose is to create presence and purpose.
Your adjectives and adverbs are the supporting cast and crew—use them with purpose to enhance the scene rather than to clutter it. Their purpose is to support and reinforce, but they also need to fade into the background when needed.
Ultimately, writing is about managing the transfer of an idea, thought, recollection, or opinion from your mind to someone else’s.
That’s the job. And it should be as clear and as concise as possible.
Sadly, many of us never learned how to use the tools of writing, which is why so many of us afraid of them.
It’s time to pick up that damn hammer.
It’s time to start whacking that damn nail.
The page is waiting.
And you, my friend, you’ve got this.
As always, thanks for reading.
—Gary
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P.S. If you found this useful, share it with another creator who needs an ego check (in a nice way). Want more unfiltered takes on content creation? Join my newsletter. No fluff, just the stuff that works.
Next time on Shaking the Tree: Why your best chapter starts now
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Originally from the U.K., Gary Bloomer is a writer, branding advocate, marketing specialist, and an award-winning graphic designer.
His design work has been included in Creative Review (one of the UK’s largest design magazines). Since 2009, he has answered over 5,000 marketing and business questions in the Know-How Exchange of MarketingProfs.com, placing him among the top 3% of contributors. He lives in Wilmington, Delaware, USA.