Do strong verbs really make your writing better?

“Use strong verbs.” If you’ve ever been given this advice, run. Or should I say, “Gallop and flee!” 

This is the kind of writing suggestion that sounds great at first because it seems like an easy fix. Supposedly, all you have to do is change your verbs to make them stronger and voila, your writing is instantly better.

Here’s the truth: too many strong verbs can make your writing feel insincere and hyperbolic. Also, you might unintentionally change the meaning of what you’re writing. 

Take the word “walk,” for example. Verbs that could replace “walk” could be slink, saunter, meander. The problem is, slinking is very different from meandering. Someone who slinks across the room is probably a person who isn’t trustworthy, while meandering creates a feeling of being unpreoccupied.

So, just replacing a common verb with a stronger one doesn’t always make your writing better. Sometimes it creates a connotation you don’t really want.

One of my personal pet peeves is a character who “nibbles” on something. Whenever I read this, I know that the writer was trying to think up a strong verb to replace the word “eat.” However, people who nibble either aren’t very hungry or they are excessively dainty. It’s not the same as just eating.

Another thing to keep in mind is that cheap romance novel writers LOVE strong verbs. Apparently they were the ones who really took this advice to heart. Look at all of the strong verbs in this sample from Highland Treasure:

“Here now!” Baron Monmouth protested, scurrying to his feet to chase after them as Rory led Alec through the large, as Rory led Alec toward the large keep doors. “What of FitzAlan? I told you he had a complaint he wanted you to look at.”

“I had no agreement with FitzAlan,” Rory said, with unconcern, as he yanked the door open and strode out into the biting wind. It felt more like January or February than late November, and he could smell the promise of snow in the air. It seemed winter was coming early this year. 

“But I paid you a small fortune!” Baron Monmouth charged after him down the stairs. 


Maybe Rory is very angry and these strong verbs help express that. But to me, it just sounds like the writer is trying too hard. It feels kind of over the top.

Strong verbs tend to take me out of the story and make me focus on the words on the page. In the books I really love, I don't notice the writing unless I make a conscious effort to do so. Instead, I am simply transported. 

Here is a sample from Toni Morrison’s Song of Solomon, and as you might expect, it's not loaded with strong verbs.

He fought the evergreen for a better look, hampered more by his laughter than by the branches. Ruth jumped up as quickly as she could and covered her breast, dropping her son on the floor, and confirming for him what he had begun to suspect—that these were strange and wrong. Before either mother or son could speak, rearrange themselves properly, or even exchange looks, Freddie had run around the house, climbed the porch steps, and was calling them between gulps of laughter. 

Here is this same sample that is rewritten with strong verbs. See if you can feel the insincerity.  

He battled the evergreen for a better look, vanquished more by his laughter than by the branches. Ruth leapt up as quickly as she could and shielded her breast, relinquishing her son to the floor, and confirming for him what he had begun to suspect—that these were strange and wrong. Before either mother or son could consult with one another, rearrange themselves properly, or even exchange looks, Freddie had galloped around the house, ascended the porch steps, and was bellowing at them between gulps of laughter.

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I much rather prefer the original version. I hope you feel the difference. 

May your writing be footloose and strong-verb-free!