Authors love description — especially in SFF, where everything from the sunlight to the swords to the sentient mushrooms needs a little extra sparkle. But when you stack two adjectives before a noun — glittering, venomous dagger or ancient, whispering forest — how do you know whether to use a comma?
That’s where coordinate adjectives come in. This guide explains what they are, why they matter, and how to test them without feeling like you’ve been trapped in a time loop by a mischievous wizard.
What Are Coordinate Adjectives?
Coordinate
adjectives are two or more adjectives that modify a noun equally.
They’re peers. Co‑captains. Two mages of equal rank standing before the same
dragon.
Examples:
- a glittering, venomous dagger
- a brooding, storm‑ridden sky
- a stubborn, half‑feral unicorn
If the adjectives are coordinate, you separate them with a comma.
If they’re not coordinate — meaning one adjective modifies the whole phrase that follows — then no comma is used.
Examples of non‑coordinate (cumulative) adjectives:
- three enormous trolls
- ancient dwarven forge
- small crystalline orb
You wouldn’t write three, enormous trolls unless you want your editor to appear in a puff of smoke and glare at you.
A Brief History: From and to comma
Long ago — in the age of quills, vellum, and spellbooks that occasionally bit their owners — English linked coordinate adjectives with and. You’d see phrases like the long and perilous journey or the fierce and radiant phoenix. It was clear, rhythmic, and perfectly acceptable.
Over time, as written English evolved (and as scribes realized they could save both ink and wrist stamina), the humble comma stepped in as a sleeker stand‑in for and. The structure didn’t change — only the punctuation did. The two adjectives still stand as equals; we’ve simply swapped the conjunction for a mark that takes up less space and doesn’t require chanting.
So when you write long, perilous journey, you’re using a modern shorthand for a very old pattern — one that’s been traveling with English since before dragons went into decline.
The Three‑Point Test (Editor’s Version)
Here’s the practical test I use — the one I teach clients and apply to manuscripts full of dragons, starships, and morally ambiguous necromancers. If all three are true, the adjectives are coordinate and need a comma.
1. The “and” Test
Can you put and between the adjectives?
- glittering and venomous dagger → yes
- three and enormous trolls → no
If and sounds wrong, stop here. No comma.
2. The Reversal Test
Can you reverse the adjectives without changing the meaning?
- venomous, glittering dagger → still works
- enormous three trolls → no
If reversal fails, the adjectives are cumulative → no comma.
3. The Predicate Test
Can you move the adjectives after the noun and join them with and?
- the dagger was glittering and venomous → natural
- the trolls were three and enormous → unnatural
- the forge was ancient and dwarven → no, unless you’re writing parody
If the predicate version sounds natural, you’re dealing with coordinate adjectives.
This third test is your best friend when your editorial ear has been bludgeoned by too many adjective stacks in a row.
Why Authors (and Editors) Get Confused
When you’re deep in a manuscript full of shimmering portals and eldritch winds, your brain eventually stops registering whether shimmering and eldritch sounds right or whether you’ve accidentally summoned a comma where none belongs.
This is normal. It’s not a grammar problem — it’s just your brain politely asking for a snack and a nap.
A Burnout‑Proof Workflow
Here’s a streamlined approach that keeps you from feeling like you’re trapped in a cursed labyrinth of adjectives:
Step 1: Run the “and” test first.
If and doesn’t work, you’re done. No comma.
Step 2: If and works, jump straight to the predicate test.
It’s the most objective and least likely to betray you.
Step 3: Use reversal only when you’re still unsure.
Reversal is the most subjective test, so save it for last — like a final boss fight.
This sequence eliminates most of the mental load and keeps your editorial stamina intact.
Examples in the Wild
Here are a few SFF‑flavored examples to show how the tests play out:
- “the crackling, arcane energy”
- crackling and arcane energy works
- the energy was crackling and
arcane works
→ coordinate → comma - “three towering giants”
- three and towering giants fails
→ cumulative → no comma - “ancient dwarven forge”
- ancient and dwarven forge sounds wrong
- the forge was ancient and
dwarven is awkward
unless you’re making a joke
→ cumulative → no comma - “small crystalline orb”
- small and crystalline orb works
- the orb was small and
crystalline works
→ coordinate → comma (though many authors omit it for rhythm)
Why This Matters for Your Writing
Correct comma use isn’t about being pedantic — it’s about clarity, rhythm, and making sure your prose reads the way you intend. Coordinate adjectives create a specific cadence, while cumulative adjectives build a layered description.
Compare:
- a cold, merciless wind (two qualities of the same wind)
vs. - a massive stone golem (a stone golem that happens to be massive)
Understanding the difference helps your writing feel intentional rather than accidental.
A Final Note for Authors
If you’re an author working with an editor (including me), this guide explains why you’ll sometimes see commas added between adjectives and sometimes removed. It’s not arbitrary, mystical, or based on the phases of the moon — it’s structural.
When in doubt, use the three‑point test. And if you’re still unsure, ask. Editors love clarity almost as much as dragons love hoards.
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