The Old House
Eight words for the dusty, rattling, wonderful old house at the end of the lane.
Meet each word one at a time, then take the quiz to lock them in.
Eight words for the dusty, rattling, wonderful old house at the end of the lane.
Meet each word one at a time, then take the quiz to lock them in.
Nelson's word
noun
Cavern. A noun. I file it under a large cave, the kind so big your voice bounces back at you. Not a small hole in a rock, but a great open room made of stone, deep in the ground. When a story sends its heroes into a cavern, picture cold air, dripping water, and darkness in every direction. Keep it filed near cave and tunnel. State it precisely: a cavern is a cave, only bigger.
The old well opened into a wide cavern under the house.
Ways to know it
Nelson's word
noun
Cobweb. A noun, and a dusty one. I file it under an old spider's web, the gray, tangled kind that gathers dust in the corners of a room no one has cleaned. A fresh web belongs to a working spider; a cobweb is what stays behind long after the spider has gone. When you read that cobwebs filled the attic, you know at once that no one has been there in years. File it near web and dust.
A gray cobweb hung across the doorway of the empty room.
Ways to know it
Vinny's word
verb
Rattle! To make that fast, knocking sound, one hard tap after another! When the windows rattle in the storm, the whole house seems to shake and speak at once. That is the verb, that is mine, and it is a small heroic sound in a stormy house. But watch out, this word has a secret identity. Say a rattle from the engine, and now it names the sound itself, and it is not an action at all. Say a baby's rattle, and it names a toy. Same spelling, different job. We sort those hats in Practice.
The windows rattle in the storm as the wind pounds the glass.
Ways to know it
Vinny's word
verb
Uncover! To pull off the cover, to sweep away the dust, and to find the thing that was hidden all along! When the children uncover a locked box, they bring a secret up into the light. That is the verb, and it takes a brave hand to do it. Look at how it is built, un and cover; to cover is to hide, and un flips it, so to uncover is to unhide. Learn how the word is made, and it will never surprise you again.
The children uncover a locked box beneath the loose floorboard.
Ways to know it
Jake's word
adjective
Ancient. Oh, this is a grand one, and it is mine. As an adjective, ancient describes a thing that is very, very old, older than your grandparents, older than the town itself. An ancient clock, an ancient tree, an ancient book with yellow pages. Its Frown is modern, the brand-new thing made just now. Could we be more specific than saying the clock was old? We could call it ancient, and let the reader feel all those long years. Magnifique.
An ancient clock stood in the hall, still ticking after a hundred years.
Ways to know it
Jake's word
adjective
Eerie. An adjective, mine, and just a little spooky. It describes a thing that is strange and a little scary, the kind that raises the hairs on your arm. An eerie glow, an eerie sound, an eerie quiet in a house that should be busy. It is not loud or dangerous, only strange enough to make you look twice. Could we be more specific than saying the room felt weird? We could say it felt eerie, and tell the reader it was strange in a scary way.
An eerie glow came from under the cellar door.
Ways to know it
Benny's word
adverb
Faintly. An adverb, and it is mine the way the noun is Nelson's. It tells you how something happens: in a weak, barely-there way. A bell rings faintly when you can only just hear it. A light shines faintly when it barely glows. Hear the word faint inside it, the weak, almost-gone feeling? Add the ly, and it teaches a verb how it happens: softly, weakly, only just. Make your writing sharper, and reach for faintly when a sound is nearly too soft to catch.
A bell rang faintly somewhere deep in the old house.
Ways to know it
Benny's word
adverb
Nervously. An adverb, mine, and a jumpy one. It tells you how a thing is done: in an uneasy, worried way. When she opens the door nervously, you can feel her heart pounding, her hand shaking a little. Hear the word nervous inside it, and add the ly, and it teaches the verb how it was done: slowly, carefully, full of worry. That is good work, and here is how you make it better. When your character is scared, do not just say it. Show them acting nervously.
She opened the rattling door nervously, one small step at a time.
Ways to know it