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The Grammar Gremlin Archive by Kimberly Lang |
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Battling the Grammar Gremlins, Lesson 1 By Kimberly Lang Quick, name the nine rules governing comma usage. Could you do it? No? Did you even try? Good. That was actually a trick question, since there aren’t nine rules. The number of “rules” can vary depending on which grammar book you’re using. My current grammar handbook lists ten rules, but rule number ten is “to prevent confusion,” which kind of muddies the first nine and throws everything into question. So do we just ignore them, pretend the rules don’t exist, or (my personal favorite) just stick commas in wherever “it feels right?” After all, the editor will sort all that grammar stuff out later, right? It’s her job, after all, and you’re too busy communing with your muse to bother with picky ol’ grammar rules. Wrong. Good grammar isn’t just for English teachers and editors. It’s for everyone. Yes, even you. I remember a conference with a student where he wanted to argue over a less-than-stellar grade on his essay. He couldn’t understand why the grade was so low when the content was good, and he’d covered the basics of the assignment. I looked at the paper, bloodied with the ink of three pens because the grammar was so bad, and told him, “I don’t care if you have the cure for cancer buried in there—no one is going to wade through that garbage to find it.” And that, my friends, is the heart of the matter. You can have the most engaging characters, the freshest plot, and the sharpest hook in the universe, but no editor will ever get past page two if the grammar is bad. I’m not saying that one comma splice will kick you straight to the reject pile—we all make simple, stupid mistakes—but consistent problems with verb or pronoun agreement, awkward syntax, and random, absent, or haphazard punctuation will drive anyone insane and get your manuscript returned faster than you can say “Strunk and White.” Have you ever had a contest judge or critique partner tell you (nicely or not) that you need to work on “basic grammar,” or that your grammar problems are “getting in the way of your story?” Does Grammar Check put hundreds of little green lines under phrases in your manuscript, and you aren’t sure why? If so, you probably need to devote some time to the serious study of grammar. Maybe you have the basics, but you just need to figure out the comma rules or the proper care and feeding of a semicolon. Either way, you must identify your grammar gremlins before you can battle them. Your first step is to buy a good grammar handbook (also called a Style Manual). Some of my favorites are Diana Hacker’s A Writer’s Reference (0-312-40161-2), LaGuardia and Guth’s The Access Handbook (0-205-28620-8), and Keene and Adams’s Easy Access (0-7674-2189-2), but there are hundreds more. Choose one designed for college students, as it will break down the grammar rules into easy-to-find and easy-to-digest chunks and identify the most common errors. Because students (mistakenly) sell them off after they finish English 101, you can find them dirt-cheap on sites like half.com. It’s a good investment, and every writer should have at least one handbook on her desk for quick reference. (Lynn Truss’s Eats, Shoots and Leaves is also fantastic, but it only covers punctuation. She’s also British, and while she does distinguish between British and American rules, getting into that melee may be confusing to some. It’s also not as easy to use as a quick reference as the handbooks above.) If you aren’t sure what your problems are or where to begin, you may need to enlist the aid of a professional. If you happen to know an English teacher or editor, and you know she’ll be completely honest with you, ask her to help you identify your grammar gremlins. If you don’t happen to have an English teacher or editor in your address book, call the local university or community college. Ask for the email addresses of some of the English 101 instructors. Contact them individually and ask if they’d be willing to review ten pages and mark them for grammar problems. That type of honest feedback will show you what kinds of problems you have and how often they occur. Once you know what your problems are, you can use your handbook to figure out how to fix them. **A note about contacting instructors and asking them to review your work for grammar problems. Don’t expect them to do it for free. Marking papers is hard work, so be sure to offer to pay for their time and expertise. Two or three dollars a page should be enough, and isn’t a $20-30 investment in your basic skills worth it? Also, I’d avoid asking university professors to do this. I know, it makes sense to go straight to the top of the pile (so to speak), but most professors have too many other things to do and will, at best, refer you to an instructor or graduate student. Part-time and adjunct instructors have hideously small salaries and need the gas money. Now that you know what your grammar gremlins are, you must battle them. Ruthlessly. This requires commitment and effort on your part. Identifying the problem is only the first step. If you have problems with pronouns and antecedents, then check every pronoun. Is it a subject or object pronoun? Does it agree with its antecedent? Have you misused the reflexive? With a conscious effort, you’ll be able to conquer most grammar problems in a couple of weeks. (Yes, really. Grammar isn’t rocket science, folks.) Some grammar gremlins seem impossible to slay. I’m an English teacher, and I have a few of my own. My ugliest gremlin? Using a comma to separate a compound verb. I know it’s wrong. I know why it’s wrong, and I know how to fix it. Yet, for some reason, my first drafts are littered with unnecessary commas prying apart a perfectly good sentence. Unfortunately, Grammar Checker doesn’t flag it. I have to go on a seek-and-destroy mission and weed the ugly things out, one by one. So don’t get disheartened if you slip up after you’ve worked so hard to improve your grammar. Habits are hard to break, but knowing to double-check yourself means editors won’t ever see that gremlin’s ugly face. Remember, grammar is good. Really. Stop laughing. Grammar provides the rules that make your prose easy to read and easy to understand. Good grammar allows your engaging characters and fresh plot to shine though. Good grammar lets the editor hear your voice and be swept away by your story. That’s what you want, right? To help you in your battle, I’ll be doing a series of short articles in the coming months identifying some of the common grammar gremlins and showing how to slay them. While many of these will be my pet peeves, please let me know if you have a gremlin you’d like to see skewered here. I’ll do my best. Until then, remember: Grammar is the logic of speech. (Richard C. Trench) Kimberly Lang wants to join the militant wing of the Apostrophe Protection Society as soon as Lynn Truss finds the balaclavas. Right now, she toils in the student trenches, gamely attempting to teach the difference between “it’s” and “its.” Battling The Grammar Gremlins, Lesson 2:
The Comma (Part 1) Let’s just jump in to the most common issue for most writers: the comma. Before you dive under the covers, remember that commas (like most punctuation) are your friends. They separate the sentence into logical pieces, keeping ideas from running together and causing confusion. Commas trip up lots of people, so you are not alone. (Put five English grad students in a room together and watch them argue over where the comma goes.) We’ll start with some basic comma rules. (I’m using Diana Hacker’s rules from A Writer’s Reference as my helpful guide today.) Rule: Use a comma before a coordinating conjunction joining independent clauses. An independent clause is a group of words that can stand alone—like a sentence. We went to the store is an independent clause. It carries a complete thought. A dependent clause (also called a subordinate clause) often has subjects and verbs but cannot stand alone as a complete sentence. Since I am a mother does not carry a complete thought; it’s dependent on something else to carry the full meaning. A conjunction is one of your eight parts of speech. Conjunctions (if you remember your School House Rock lessons) join words, phrases, or clauses, and they indicate the relation of the elements. A coordinating conjunction connects grammatically equal elements—like two independent clauses. Our seven friendly coordinating conjunctions are and, but, or, nor, for, so, and yet. So, take two independent clauses… I went to the store. I bought milk and eggs. Add your coordinating conjunction… I went to the store and I bought milk and eggs. (Yikes! That’s a run-on sentence!) Where does the comma go? Before the conjunction: I went to the store, and I bought milk and eggs. Voila! Now you have a delightful, correctly punctuated compound sentence. Warning! Don’t run through sticking commas in front of all your coordinating conjunctions. The clauses must be independent. I walked to the store and bought milk doesn’t need a comma. And bought milk is not independent; it’s part of a compound predicate for the subject I. Rule: Use a comma between all items in a series. Sara brought cookies, cakes, and brownies to the meeting. (Yay, Sara.) You’ll hear people argue this rule because different houses and publications have different conventions about that last comma. Some publishers omit the comma between the last two items in a series (that last comma is sometimes called the “final serial comma” or “the Oxford comma”). Sara brought cookies, cakes and brownies to the meeting. In the sentence above, it doesn’t make that much of a difference. Choose whether you will use the final serial comma or not and be consistent in your usage. It’s easy enough to fix in the editing stage if your house or publication uses the other convention. Of course, if you can find out which style your house of choice prefers in advance, then do it that way from the beginning. Exception: Be sure omitting that last comma doesn’t cause your sentence to become misleading or ambiguous: My aunt left me all of her valuables, jewelry and china. Did Auntie leave you her valuables AND her jewelry AND her china, or does the jewelry and china make up the entirety of her valuables? The sentence is ambiguous, and the need for clarity trumps all. Rule: Use a comma between coordinate adjectives not joined by and. Do not use a comma between cumulative adjectives. Adjectives describe nouns: red car, successful businesswoman. If you have two or more adjectives modifying a noun separately, they are coordinate. The savvy, successful, smart businesswoman closed the deal. Cumulative adjectives do not modify the noun separately: Two small white rabbits bounded away from the dog. Look how our adjectives lean on each other. White modifies ‘rabbits’; small modifies ‘white rabbits’; two modifies ‘small white rabbits.’ They cannot be separated by the word and—not and still make sense—nor can they be scrambled (white small two rabbits). No commas here. Rule: Use a comma after an introductory word group. We use introductory word groups as adverbs much of the time, telling our readers when, where, why, how, or under what conditions the main action occurred. Use a comma to let the reader know where the phrase or clause ends and the main part of the sentence begins. When John was ready to shoot the dog flushed the birds from the bushes. Whoa. Without a comma telling us the introductory clause was finished, our eyes and mind grouped the words together, and John was about to shoot that poor dog. When John was ready to shoot, the dog flushed the birds from the bushes. Much better. The dog is safe. Not all introductory clauses will be quite so worrying, but you still need to use a comma between the introductory phrase/clause and the main sentence. Once we got to the edge of the woods, Karen pitched the tent. Exception: In a short sentence where there is no chance of misunderstanding, the comma can be omitted. The next day we went fishing. Another introductory word group is the participial phrase. A participial phrase has a verb not acting as a verb (this is called a verbal phrase). So, while your phrase will include a present participle ending in –ing or a past participle ending in –d, -ed, -n, -en, or –t, it acts as an adjective modifying a noun or pronoun. Thinking it would rain, I brought an umbrella today. (“Thinking it would rain” modifies “I.”) The comma is never omitted in this situation, even if the participial phrase is short. Let’s finish with an easy rule. Rule: Use commas to set of nouns of direct address, the words “yes” and “no,” interrogative tags, and mild interjections. A noun of direct address is a name: Silly Rabbit, Trix are for kids. Or Pass the potatoes, Mother, if you don’t mind. Yes and No are easy: Yes, you do have to learn all these comma rules. (Stack those two rules together and you get Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.) Interrogative tags are those little questions hanging at the end of a sentence. You’re going to learn all the comma rules, aren’t you? For those of you who do remember School House Rock, feel free to sing along: Well, comma rules can be fun. (Mild emotion.) Does your head hurt? Okay, then we’ll end today’s lesson here. Five comma rules demystified—not bad for a few minute’s reading. Practice these, and we’ll do more next time. Kimberly Lang learned all the parts of speech from School House Rock. She’s been known to sing them to her classes. The students don’t like that very much.Battling the Grammar Gremlins, Lesson 3:
The Comma (Part 2) Welcome back to Kimberly’s Fun With Commas. You’ve had several weeks to practice the first five rules, so we’ll finish with commas today. Let’s start with a couple of easy rules. (Again, I’m using Diana Hacker’s A Writer’s Reference as my source.) Rule: Use commas with dates, addresses, titles, and numbers. Dates: Set off the year from the rest of the sentence with commas: On June 27, 2001, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. You don’t need commas, though, if the date is inverted (The new financial plan went into effect on 1 January 2004.) or if only the month and year are given (September 2005 was a bad month for hurricanes.) Addresses: Elements of an address or place name are followed by commas. The zip code is not preceded by a comma. The sights to see in Paris, France, are endless. Or She is from Chicago, Illinois. Titles: If the title follows a name, separate it with a pair of commas: Benjamin Spock, M.D., was an expert on child care. Numbers: In numbers more than four digits long, use commas to separate the numbers into groups of three. In numbers four digits long, the comma is optional. Do not use commas in street numbers, zip codes, years, or telephone numbers. 1 000 (or 1000); 750,000; 1, 288,415 CAUTION: In fiction writing, numbers are written out, so this rule rarely applies. (1,000 would be one thousand or a thousand in your manuscript). Rule: Use commas to set of direct quotations. This is your dialogue tag rule. (Not IF you should use them, just how to punctuate them if you do.) Norma said, “Let’s get some ice cream.” Notice that the final punctuation goes inside the quotation marks. All right, enough easy stuff. Let’s go on to the more complicated rules. Rule: Use commas to set of nonrestrictive elements. Word groups describing nouns or pronouns (adjective clauses, adjective phrases, and appositives) can be either restrictive or nonrestrictive. A restrictive element defines or limits the meaning of the word it modifies and is essential to the meaning of the sentence. A nonrestrictive element describes a noun or pronoun whose meaning has already been clearly defined. Since it contains non-essential information, nonrestrictive elements are set off by commas. Restrictive: I needed clothes for work that were professional-looking. The phrase “that were professional-looking” is restrictive. Of course I have to wear clothes to work; the phrase limits the kind of clothing I needed and is restrictive. Non-restrictive: I needed professional-looking clothes for work, which require dry cleaning. The phrase “which require dry cleaning” does not restrict the meaning. Remove it, and the sentence still retains its meaning. Sure, a little something is lost, but the defining characteristics (professional-looking) of the thing described (clothes) remain the same. Context makes a difference and can affect meaning! The dessert made with fresh raspberries was delicious. Without commas, the phrase “made with fresh raspberries” is restrictive and implies there was more than one dessert offered at dinner. The phrase clarifies which dessert was delicious. The dessert, made with fresh raspberries, was delicious. With the commas, you know the phrase is nonrestrictive. There was only one dessert offered at dinner, and it just happened to be made with fresh raspberries. A nice detail, but not necessary for comprehension. Your common types of restrictive and nonrestrictive elements are: Adjective clauses: These are the phrases starting with a relative pronoun (who, whom, whose, which, that) or a relative adverb (where, when). The lady who lives next door was angry. The adjective clause is restrictive; take it out, and we don’t know which lady you are talking about. Mrs. Johnson, who lives next door, was angry. Now the clause is nonrestrictive because Mrs. Johnson is already defined. The fact she lives next door isn’t important. Phrases functioning as adjectives: These can be prepositional phrases (beginning with a preposition like in, with, against, under, etc), or verbal phrases (beginning with an –ing verb or –en, -t, -ed verb). My grandmother has an album of photographs taken at the 1901 World’s Fair. Our verbal phrase, “taken at the 1901 World’s Fair,” restricts the meaning of “photographs” and is essential. No comma. The elephant, with its huge trunk, was a big draw at the circus. The prepositional phrase “with its huge trunk” doesn’t define “elephant.” Nonrestrictive and nonessential, so set it off with commas. *Bonus: Notice how in the explanatory sentence I did not set of “with his huge trunk” in commas like I did the verbal phrase above. That’s because there were two prepositional phrases in the example sentence and I needed to restrict which phrase I was talking about. Appositives: This is a noun or noun phrase that renames a nearby noun. Julie Garwood’s book Ransom is one of my favorites. “Ransom” is an appositive renaming “Julie Garwood’s book.” It is essential because Julie Garwood has written a ton of books and we need to know which one we’re talking about. It’s restrictive and doesn’t get commas. My husband, John, is a photographer. Unless you have more than one husband at the moment, the appositive John is nonrestrictive. “My husband” is very specific and does not need to be clarified. Take a deep breath and we’ll move on. We’re almost done. Rule: Use commas to set of transitional and parenthetical expressions, absolute phrases, and contrasted elements. Transitional expression: These serve as bridges between sentences or parts of sentences. They include conjunctive adverbs like however, therefore, and moreover and transitional phrases like on the other hand, in other words, or back at the ranch. If a transitional expression appears between two independent clauses in a compound sentence, it is preceded by a semicolon and usually followed by a comma. Comma usage is governed by nine basic rules; for example, commas connect all items in a series. If a transitional expression appears at the beginning of a sentence or in the middle of an independent clause, it is usually set off by commas. On the other hand, not all grammar rules are easy to remember. Exception (and you knew there was one, didn’t you?): If the expression blends smoothly into the sentence, causing little or no pause in reading, it does not need to be set off with commas. We are out of milk; therefore you need to go to the store. Parenthetical expressions: Expressions providing supplemental comments or information interrupting the flow of the sentence and appearing as afterthoughts should be set off in commas. Sara, as far as I know, won’t be coming to the meeting. Absolute phrases: This type of phrase modifies the whole sentence. It usually consists of a noun flowed by a participle or participial phrase and should always be set off by commas. Her karma finally being right, Claire sold a book. Do not insert a comma between the noun and the participle of the construction (in other words, see what would happen to your sentence if you put a comma between “karma” and “finally” in the sentence above. It doesn’t make sense.) Contrasted elements: Sharp contrasts within a sentence are set off by commas. Unlike me, Nora Roberts has sold millions of books. We’re on the home stretch—only one more rule. Rule: Use a comma to prevent confusion. This is the tricky one… If a writer has omitted a word or phrase, you may need a comma to signal the omission: To err is human; to forgive, divine. If you have words echoing each other, you may need a comma: Everyone who could leave, left. Sometimes you need the comma to prevent readers from grouping words together in a way you didn’t intend: Those who can, do, but those who can do more, teach Voila! You now know all nine rules governing comma usage. You did it. Good job. I won’t even give you a quiz on the material. Now that we know where the commas go, we’ll discuss unnecessary commas and our friend the semicolon next time. Kimberly Lang has her own comma issues to deal with…but she’s working on them. This article may not be reprinted without permission from the author.Battling the Grammar Gremlins, Lesson 4: Commas (Part 3): Commas and Semicolons. After the last two lessons, you should be feeling pretty good about your ability to use commas correctly. Before we abandon our comma discussion entirely, let’s talk about where commas don’t go. Remember way back in Part One when we talked about getting a good grammar handbook? One reason why a handbook designed for college students is a good investment is that English 101 teachers have seen the poor little comma abused horribly over the years; they know where folks are likely to stick commas unnecessarily. Most books will have a top ten (or more) list of common, but incorrect, comma usages. Let’s take a look at the usual suspects. (Today I’m using Keene’s Easy Access as well as Hacker’s Writer’s Reference as my sources.) NOTE: Incorrect commas are in red (along with the preceding word) so you can see them easily. Do not use a comma before the first or after the last item in a series. Other reasons to quit your job are, stress, low pay, bad coworkers, and poor benefits. Do not use a comma between an adjective and a noun or an adverb and an adjective.She was a smart, savvy, businesswoman. Do not use a comma to set off a concluding adverb clause essential to the meaning of the sentence. Don’t call me on Tuesdays, until after ten a.m. Without the phrase “until after ten a.m.,” the whole meaning of the sentence changes. Do not use a comma after such as, although, or like, or before than. Do not use a comma with question marks, exclamation points, parentheses, and dashes. I’m like my mother, (who is also brunette). Do not use a comma with an indirect quotation. My mother once told me, that it wasn’t me she didn’t trust; it was the situation. Do not use a comma after a coordinating conjunction. I usually drive to work, but, I walk in nice weather. Do not use a comma between compound elements that are not independent clauses. I went to the store, and bought all the ingredients for dinner. Nope, this is a compound predicate for the subject “I.” Now, here’s the tricky part. As I type all the incorrect sentences above, Word’s grammar checker does not have a problem with the majority of the commas. It’s only put a squiggly green line under the question mark followed by a comma and the comma after the coordinating conjunction. Scary, huh? That means you are responsible for catching all those bad commas. But, if you’ve taken notes (or printed out) the last two comma lessons, you know where the commas go. Now you know the places commas don’t go—even if it seems like they should sometimes. One last comma gremlin—and it’s one of my personal pet peeves: the comma splice. A comma splice is a type of run-on sentence. If you have two or more independent clauses joined by a comma without a coordinating conjunction, it’s called a comma splice. I was writing my blog entry, it goes up on Monday. ACK! See how we have two complete sentences here: I was writing my blog entry. It goes up on Monday. If I want to connect those two sentences, I either need a coordinating conjunction (and would do nicely), or I need a semicolon (see below).Note: Comma splices are a no-no in American English, but they are considered acceptable in British English. It’s one of those little differences between the two dialects. Okay, comma experts, here’s your assignment: Take eight pages of your current WIP and highlight every comma. (Yes, I know that’s a lot of commas, but I said we had to be ruthless in our battle.) Look at each comma and decide which rule you are following (or breaking) with each usage. Now read each and every sentence carefully, looking for adverb phrases, appositives, and the like, and see if you’ve omitted any commas. Your eyes may be crossing and you may be cussing me by the time you finish, but you’ll know where your comma gremlins are lurking. (If you really do this exercise, email me at problemchild@writingplayground.com and share your story. I’ll praise you publicly on the Writing Playground’s blog.) Our next item of punctuation up for discussion is the semicolon. Oh, how I love a semicolon! I’ve heard some lively discussions whether editors like semicolons or not, but I’m not going to go in to that here. I just want you to use the semicolon correctly; if your editor hates it, you can always change it in revisions. I doubt it’s a deal-breaker. A semicolon separates major sentence elements of equal grammatical rank (e.g., independent clauses, items in a series). Rule: Use a semicolon between closely related independent clauses not joined with a coordinating conjunction. A coordinating conjunction normally tells us the relationship between the clauses. Look at the following sentences: You can have ice cream, or you can have candy. We have two independent clauses (equal grammatical rank), but the coordinating conjunction changes the relationship between the clauses, thereby changing the meaning. If the relation is clear without a coordinating conjunction, you can omit it and use a semicolon instead. In the early-mid 90s, few people had email; in just a few years, it became as common as a home telephone. This could have been two different sentences, or it could have been one sentence connected with a coordinating conjunction. It works just fine as one sentence with a semicolon because the independent clauses are closely related. Using a semicolon instead of a comma and coordinating conjunction is, to me, often the difference between a good sentence and a great one: Happiness is the only sanction of life; where happiness fails, existence remains a mad and lamentable experiment. (George Santayana) To err is human; to forgive, divine. (A. Pope) There’s a bit of an art to using semicolons effectively; use them too much and they loose their effectiveness. Use them incorrectly, and it’s a bad, bad thing. Rule: Use a semicolon between independent clauses connected with a transitional expression. So when a transitional expression appears between independent clauses, it is preceded by a semicolon and usually followed by a comma: Many people think writing a book is easy; in fact, it is really hard work! When a transitional expression appears in the middle or at the end of the second independent clause, the semicolon goes between the clauses: Most authors write several books before they hit the bestseller lists; Betsy Bestseller, however, did it with her first one. Rule: Use a semicolon between items in a series when those items have internal punctuation. In this situation, I call the semicolon a “super comma.” Say you have a series of items in your sentence, and each item has commas in it because of other comma usage rules. What’s a poor reader to do? Without semicolons, your reader is forced to parse out the sentence into the major groupings. Not a good way to make friends with your readers. Some of my favorite romance novels are For the Roses, Julie Garwood’s story of a special family; Whitney, My Love, with the ultra-alpha Clayton Westmoreland and Whitney, the sassy, unsinkable heroine; Pamela Morsi’s wonderfully funny Garters; and Skye O’Malley, which was the first romance novel I ever read. Argh! Without the semicolon creating the groupings, that sentence would be a mess. You can even use a semicolon if you are connecting two independent clauses with a coordinating conjunction IF there is internal punctuation in one of the sentences, and you need to clarify where the break in the clauses is: I love oatmeal cookies with chocolate chips, raisins, and walnuts; and I’ll eat the entire batch before they even cool down. This is technically correct, but it looks a little funny, and folks may call you on it. Either be prepared to defend it or revise the sentence. That’s it. Semicolons only have three really good uses, so they’re easier to get the hang of than commas. You are now the master of two commonly abused punctuation marks. Congratulations! Next month, I’ll take a break from punctuation and get into the issue of dangling and misplaced modifiers and the joys of parallelism. Kimberly Lang adores semicolons; she wants to use them all the time, even when her CP tells her not to. You can email her at problemchild@writingplayground.com and defend your own semicolon addiction. This article may not be reproduced without permission. Battling the Grammar Gremlins, Lesson 5: Modifiers, Parallelism, and Mixed Constructions - by Kimberly Lang First, a quick note of apology: It seems I got my numbering mixed up on these articles. (Here I am proofing my punctuation so carefully while the titles get all mixed up. Sigh.) This is the fifth article in the Grammar Gremlins series. There’s an introduction and three comma lessons before this one. Let’s move away from punctuation for a while. (Insert sound of collective sigh of relief.) When people talk about grammar, we seem to focus on punctuation rules and subject-verb agreement issues. We forget (or don’t realize) that grammar is actually the structures that govern the whole language, not just comma usage rules. Grammar covers how you construct your sentences, making sure that your ideas are presented clearly and without confusion. Grammar is the logic of our language. It’s what allows us to understand what’s being said. For instance, you can’t arbitrarily decide you don’t like the good old English structure of Subject-Verb-Object. The boy bit the dog is a very different sentence from The dog bit the boy. Your innate understanding of English grammar, including the Subject-Verb-Object pattern, tells you who got bitten in this sentence. English grammar has rules of construction that simply cannot be messed with—ever. (Bit the boy the dog just doesn’t make sense.) Without grammar, language is nothing but random vocabulary words, and random words don’t carry meaning effectively. If English is your first language, you have an innate knowledge of what sounds right. You just know. That’s because you are accustomed to English’s patterns and constructions. When a sentence falls outside of those normal and expected constructions, you get confused reading it. That’s why problems with modifiers, parallelism, and mixed constructions have the unfortunate effect of forcing readers to wonder what, exactly, you were trying to say, and asking themselves if you really meant it to come out like that. So let’s get them under control. Modifiers: Newspaper headlines are rife with modifier problems: WOMAN KILLED BY BULLET KNOWN FOR KINDNESS. SNAKE FOUND BY CHILD WITH TWO HEADS. Bullets known for kindness? A two-headed child? Both of these headlines have a misplaced modifier. Modifiers can be single words, phrases, or clauses, but their purpose is to give us more information about something else in the sentence. When the modifier is misplaced, we apply the information to the wrong part of the sentence. Tacky and falling apart at the seams, Jenny took the couch home for the dog to sleep on. Who or what is tacky and falling apart at the seams? According to this sentence, it’s Jenny. We automatically attach this modifying (adjective) phrase to the first noun we hit in the sentence. The writer probably meant the couch, but the modifier is misplaced, and Jenny is insulted. There’s no easy fix; the sentence has to be rewritten. Keep your modifiers as close as possible to the words they modify so readers know what you’re referring to. I have many books by writers I have met on my shelves. (Boy, my shelves are a popular place to be!) Based on our innate knowledge of English, we want the prepositional phrase that follows “met” to tell us where. One the shelves does tell us where, but it tells us where the books are—not where we met the writers. So you need to rewrite: I have many books on my shelves by writers I have met. Misplaced modifiers often create absurd (and downright funny) sentences, but they can also create ambiguity: The writing group I meet with occasionally helps each other solve plot problems. Do you only meet with the group occasionally or do you only occasionally help each other with plot problems? The sentence has to be re-written to clear up that ambiguity. I occasionally meet with a writing group who help each other solve plot problems. The difference between a misplaced modifier and a dangling one is while the misplaced modifier modifies the wrong thing, a dangling modifier has nothing at all to modify. Being a parent of small children, safety becomes the ultimate factor when selecting an efficient mode of transportation. Nothing in that sentence has the ability to be a parent of a small child, so the modifier being the parent of small children has nothing to modify. It dangles out there, alone, making no sense at all. While folding laundry, the tornado sirens went off. (I wish the tornado sirens would come to my house and do the laundry.) Try: The tornado sirens went off while I was folding laundry or While I was folding laundry, the tornado sirens went off. Because a dangling modifier has nothing in the sentence to modify, you cannot fix the problem by simply moving the modifier to a different place. After all, The tornado sirens went off while folding laundry doesn’t make any more sense than the original. Someone needs to be folding that laundry—we need an “actor” for the action. Remember, a sentence with a misplaced or dangling modifier will often make perfect sense to YOU because you know what you meant to say. Cold proofreads or another set of eyes are often the only way to catch these gremlins. Parallelism is a very hard word for me to say, but it is a very important idea in grammar. This novel is not to be tossed lightly aside, but to be hurled with great force. Notice how the actions themselves are parallel in importance? Therefore the structure (to be tossed…to be hurled) is also parallel. Here’s another example: We went hunting, fishing, and camped in the woods. All three actions are equal, but we have two –ing verbs followed by an –ed verb. This structure is not parallel. The correct structure would be We went hunting, fishing, and camping in the woods or We hunted, fished, and camped in the woods. Items in a series should be parallel. If you start with nouns, keep all the items in a series as nouns (Symptoms of drug use include sleeplessness, anxiety, and paranoia.). If you start with –ed verbs, stick with –ed verbs. Ideas linked with coordinating conjunctions (Penalties for plagiarism include suspension and expulsion from school) should be kept parallel, as should any ideas presented in pairs. This includes comparisons using like or as, and ideas using correlative conjunctions (either…or, neither…nor, not only…but also, both…and). [Coordinating conjunctions and items in a series are discussed in the Gremlin article “Commas, Part 1.”] Mixed Constructions occur when your sentence elements defy the laws of grammar and/or logic. Huh? We start with a prepositional phrase that really should have been a modifier, but then tries to act as the subject of the sentence. This is a case of the writer changing his/her mind midway through the sentence and forgetting to go back and revise. Or this one: Terriers, on the other hand, are very small dogs that are also short-haired, but they are used in hunting by driving game from burrows and then being killed. I’m forever grateful to the student who turned this sentence in to me. It’s the perfect example of getting to the end of a sentence without paying attention to how you got there. Faulty predication is a type of mixed construction where the subject and the predicate don’t make sense together. We need new dummies to teach the CPR class. Faulty apposition has an appositive not agreeing with its noun. A software designer, a fast-growing career field, has a high entry-level salary. A career field is a thing. A software designer is a person. Remember, an appositive renames the noun. As such, it must do so properly. Software design, a fast-growing career field… [Appositives are discussed in the Gremlins article, “Commas, part 2.”] The rejection letter is why I’m so upset. Rejection is when they break your heart. Rejection letters are where they break your spirit. Rejection letters are not a reason or a place. Rejection is not a time. It’s illogical, and it’s wrong. The sentence Cleveland is where I married my first husband is just as bad. While I will listen to arguments that Cleveland is, indeed, a place, the sentence is the grammatical equivalent of nails on a chalkboard. I married my first husband in Cleveland is so much nicer. Simple. Succinct. Logically and stylistically clear. For my sanity’s sake, please rewrite all “is when,” “is why,” and “is where” constructions. Revising for dangling and misplaced modifiers, parallelism, and mixed constructions will make your sentences tighter, stronger, and more meaningful. Notice how revising these sentences would also cut some serious deadwood from your prose, making your writing flow smoothly. All of which is very, very good. This article may not be reproduced without permission of the author. Battling the Grammar Gremlins, Lesson 6 : Common Gremlins This month, we’re going to address some very common gremlins. Most of these run unchecked through the language, setting people’s teeth on edge as they go. Some are more grievous sins than others, but I’ll bet real money that everyone has tripped up on at least one of the following. Who vs. Whom Who is a subject pronoun; whom is an object pronoun. ALWAYS. If the pronoun is performing the action (e.g., the person doing something), then you must use the subject pronoun “who” just as you would use the subject pronoun “she.” If the pronoun is not performing an action, use “whom” just as you would use the object pronoun “her.” (The same goes for whoever and whomever.) Kim wanted to know who was still having problems with commas. Since someone is still having problems with commas (she was still having problems with commas), the correct pronoun is “who.” To whom did you speak? Whom is the object of the preposition in this sentence. (Rearrange this sentence: Did you speak to her?) Sometimes writers get to meet the agents and editors whom they queried. Whom doesn’t have a verb here—must be an object. (Whom refers to the object nouns “agents and editors,” so think of it as they queried them.) Here’s the best quick and dirty rule I can give you: If your sentence is not a question, use “who” if the pronoun is immediately followed by a verb, and use “whom” if the pronoun is followed by a noun or pronoun. For questions, decide if the pronoun will replace the subject or the object. I know it sounds funny because in our everyday speech we tend to use “who” more than “whom.” That doesn’t make it correct, though. Remember: Who = subject. Whom =object. There. You’ll never confuse the two again. Lie vs. Lay Lie and lay are commonly confused; I think everyone has battled this Gremlin at some point. It’s so common, there’s even a cute little mnemonic: “Chickens lay eggs; you lie down.” Gee, wasn’t that helpful. What this sentence is designed to do is remind you which one of your verbs is transitive and which one is intransitive. Transitive verbs always take a direct object; intransitive verbs never do. Lie is an intransitive verb meaning “to recline or rest.” Since an intransitive verb never takes a direct object, you cannot lie something. Lay is a transitive verb meaning “to put or to place.” Therefore, you have to have an object to lay. I lie in the sun. Lie down on the bed. Let sleeping dogs lie. Please lay the book on the table. Lay your coat on the bed. Now the real problem comes when we leave the present tense. LIE (Remember, intransitive verbs do not take an object): LAY (Now we need a direct object): If lie/lay is one of your gremlins, go ahead and make yourself a little cheat sheet and attach it to the bulletin board over your desk. (You even have my permission to cut out the one above and use it.) Good/Well and Bad/Badly Good and bad are adjectives, and adjectives modify nouns. She did a good job. That is one bad dog. I’ve had a bad day. What a good girl. Well and badly are adverbs, and adverbs modify verbs. She speaks English well. Her broken arm hurts badly. I sing badly, but I dance very well. There is an exception, of course. Well becomes an adjective when you need a subject complement. Don’t panic at the terminology. A subject complement describes the state of being of the subject. I am cold. She is pretty. The adjectives “cold” and “pretty” simply describe the situation of the subject of the sentence. “Well” becomes an adjective in this case to serve as the subject complement. I am well. It’s just as well. Don’t get carried away, though, and use the adverb “badly” the same way. “Badly” doesn’t become a subject complement; you have to use “bad.” The sentence I feel badly means there’s something wrong with your fingers and sense of touch. Just remember, your arm may hurt badly when you break it, but you feel bad you did it while on vacation. Ambiguous or vague pronoun reference: Ambiguous pronouns could refer to more than one noun in the sentence: Kim told Shelley she should go to the conference. Who should go to the conference? Kim or Shelley? Sentences with ambiguous pronouns have to be rewritten: Kim told Shelley to go to the conference. Vague pronouns don’t refer to any specific person or thing: They say editors won’t read manuscripts in any font other than Courier New. Who is “they?” (And why are you listening to them anyway?) Before I downloaded my email, it asked me for my password. Umm, who or what asked for your password? If you can’t draw an arrow from the pronoun to the noun it references, then the pronoun is vague. You can replace the pronoun with the noun (Before I downloaded my email, the computer asked for my password.) or rewrite completely (Before I downloaded my email, I had to enter my password.). Pronoun agreement We all know pronouns must agree with their nouns in gender and number. (You don’t replace “Stella” with “he” or “them.”) Subject pronouns must also agree with their verbs. (She goes, not She go.) But pronouns must still agree in number even if you don’t know which gender to use. Here’s an example: Each student should bring their books each day. Now, each student is singular, and you have verb agreement, but the pronoun their is plural. Our pronoun must agree with its noun. If we don’t know the gender of the person in question, we’ve traditionally used the male pronoun in these situations. But that seems sexist and misleading, so to be inclusive, we should really use the phrase his or her. Each student should bring his or her books each day. Now we have a correct sentence, but it feels bulky, clunky, overly formal, and just plain awkward. No wonder we’ve started using the all-purpose their. While it feels better, it’s still wrong. Sorry. Yes, Jane Austen did it, and you can probably list hundreds of places where you see it every day. To paraphrase your mother, just because everyone else is doing it, that doesn’t make it right. You can rewrite the sentence to make the subject plural (All students should bring their books each day.), but that won’t work in a sentence like Someone left their stuff in the kitchen. Just realize that the use of their in these situations is common, colloquial, and easy, but it is still incorrect. Whether your editor lets you do it or not is a different story. Apostrophes Our local discount store (I won’t mention names, but it begins with “W” and ends in “Mart”) has a sign in the parking lot stating, “No Trucks. Delivery’s in back.” I cringe; I shudder; I mentally compose carefully worded letters to the corporate headquarters. It makes me want to join the militant wing of the Apostrophe Protection Society as soon as Lynn Truss finds the balaclavas. (Lynn Truss is the author of Eats, Shoots and Leaves. It should be required reading for everyone.) If you’ve ever felt the need to take white paint or a black marker to a sign with an unneeded, omitted, or misplaced apostrophe, you may want to join up as well. (Hey, if I can find enough of us, we’ll form the American branch of the APS.) For the rest, though, here’s a quick run-down of the proper ways to use the apostrophe:
That’s it for this month. I’ll track down some new gremlins for next month. Let me know if there’s something particular you’d like me to take on. Kimberly Lang never feels badly about her grammar mistakes. This article first appeared in The Heart Monitor, the newsletter for Heart of Dixie, RWA Chapter 51. It may not be reprinted without permission of the author. Battling the Grammar Gremlins, Lesson 7: Commonly Confused Words Recently, there was a spirited discussion on the PRO loops about “alright” vs. “all right.” Someone wished for a list of commonly confused words, and like the genie in the bottle, her wish is my command. Here, collected from grammar texts, websites, and student papers, is the first part of a list of words that sometimes trip up even the best of writers. (Definitions are from the Mirriam-Webster Tenth Edition.) A LOT/ALLOT: A lot is two words meaning “many.” Allot (v) means “to assign a share or portion.” I see “allot” used frequently as Spell Check often suggests it for “alot.” ACCEPT/EXCEPT: Accept (v) means “to receive.” Except (prep) means “excluding,” or as a verb means “to exclude.” [I accept all of the conditions except the last one.] ADVERSE/AVERSE: Adverse means “unfavorable.” Averse means “opposed,” and is usually followed by “to.” (The sound of “averse to” has lead many to believe the word is “aversed”—nope.) [I am averse to your plan due to the possible adverse effects.] AFFECT/EFFECT: Affect (v) means “to influence.” Effect (n) means “result.” Effect can also be used as a verb meaning “to bring about.” [Alcohol affects your driving skills. Spanking a child can have negative effects. Only Congress can effect a change in the laws.] AGGRAVATE means “to make worse.” [The pollen aggravated my allergies.] The colloquial use of aggravate as “annoy or irritate” is incorrect. ALL RIGHT is two words. “Alright” is non-standard. ALLUDE/ELUDE: Allude means to make an indirect reference. (If it is a direct reference, use “refer,” not “allude.”) Elude means “to escape or avoid.” [Hemmingway alluded to John Donne in For Whom the Bell Tolls. The criminals eluded the police.] ALLUSION/ILLUSION: Allusion is an indirect reference (see above). Illusion is a misconception. [Allusion is a literary term. Magicians use illusions.] ALL READY/ALREADY: All ready (adj) means “prepared.” Already (adv) means “previously.” [The reports were all ready to go. She had already completed them.] AMONG/BETWEEN: Use among if you have three or more items; use between with two. [I sat between Linda Howard and Nora Roberts. Sally sat among the flowers.] ANXIOUS/EAGER: Anxious means “worried.” Eageris the word you want if you are looking forward to something. [I’m anxious about going to the dentist. I’m eager to meet your new boyfriend.] BACK UP/BACKUP: Back up (two words) is a verb phrase. [Back up the car. Be sure to back up your hard drive.] Backup (one word) is a noun referring to a duplicate copy of data. [Where’s your backup disk?] BATED/BAITED: You wait with bated breath. You baited the hook to go fishing. Waiting “with baited breath” implies something smells fishy… CANNON/CANON: Armies point cannons at each other. A canon is a set of rules or collection of works. [The literary canon has often excluded women and minority writers.] CAPITAL/CAPITOL: States have capitals. We also have capital letters. Businesses raise capital for a project. A Capitol is a building where lawmakers meet. CENSOR/CENSURE: Censor means “to remove or suppress.” Censure means “to criticize severely.” [The college tried to censor the campus newspaper. Congress censured the President.] CITE/SITE/SIGHT: Cite (v) means to quote or reference. Site (n) is a place. Sight (v, n, adj) involves vision. [Be sure to cite your reference material correctly. London has many famous sites to see. There was no end in sight.] Web pages are called “sites.” CLIMACTIC/CLIMATIC: Climactic refers to “climax.” Climatic refers to “climate.” [You don’t want your climactic scene to be about climatic changes.] COMPLIMENT/COMPLEMENT: A compliment (n) is a flattering remark, or as a verb means “to flatter.” Complement means “to go with or complete” or as a noun, means “something that completes.” [My husband complimented my new haircut. What a lovely compliment! White wine complements chicken dishes.] COMPOSE/COMPRISE: Both are verbs, but compose means “to create or form,” while comprise means “to be made up of .” [I composed a poem comprised entirely of proper nouns.] CONSCIENCE/CONSCIOUS: Your conscience (n) is that little voice in your head telling you not to do something. Conscious (adj) means “awake” or “aware.” CONTINUAL/CONTINUOUS: This one is tricky. Continual means “frequently.” Continuous means “without interruption.” [It’s impossible to work with these continual interruptions. When the pipe broke, the water flow was continuous.] COULD OF (and its friends may of, would of, should of, might of): These phrases don’t actually exist. These mistakes come from the pronunciation of the contractions “could’ve,” “would’ve,” etc. COULD CARE LESS: This phrase is non-standard. The correct phrase is “Couldn’t care less.” COUNCIL/COUNSEL: A council is a legislative body, like the City Council (members of that body are councilors). Counsel (v) means “to give advice,” and as a noun, refers to that advice. Those people who give you advice (including lawyers) are counselors. DISINTERESTED/UNINTERESTED: Disinterested parties are impartial and unbiased. Uninterested people don’t care. [Arbitration brings in a disinterested third party to settle disputes. I invited her, but she was uninterested. ] DUE TO: Don’t use this phrase as a preposition meaning “because of”: The trip was cancelled because of (*not “due to”) rain.Due to is a subject compliment and always follows a form of the verb “be.” [Her success is due to her hard work.] ELICIT/ILLICIT: Elicit (v) means “to bring out or evoke”; illicit (adj) means unlawful. [The detective elicited information about illicit activities from the criminal.] EMINENT/IMMINENT: Eminent means “outstanding” or “distinguished.” Imminent means “about to happen.” [My professor is an eminent scholar of British Literature. Once labor starts, delivery is imminent.] EVENTUALLY/ULTIMATELY: This involves a fine shade of distinction for word choice. Use eventually to mean “at some unspecified point in the future.” Use ultimately to mean “furthest possible extent or greatest extreme.” EXPLICIT/IMPLICIT: Explicit means “stated directly” or “clearly defined.” Implicit means “implied” or “unstated.” EVERYDAY/ EVERY DAY: Everyday (adj) means “ordinary.” Every day (two words) means each day. EVERYONE/EVERY ONE: Everyone is an indefinite pronoun referring to all the members of a group collectively. [Everyone is going to the picnic on Saturday.] Every one (two words) refers to each individual person or thing in a group. It is usually followed by “of.” [I found every one of the missing toys.] That’s enough to get you started for a vacation month like June. If you really want more and can’t wait until next month, visit Paul Brians’ impressive web site of Common Errors at www.wsu.edu/~brians/errors/. That should keep you busy until I get back… Kimberly Lang does all right on an everyday basis. Battling the Grammar Gremlins, Lesson 8: More Commonly Confused Words Last month, I gave you the first part of a list of commonly confused words that creep into texts without us meaning them to. They’re hard to catch, especially if they’re spelled right, so it’s worth a read-through to be sure you’ve picked the right word for what you mean. We got as far as E last time, so let’s continue. FARTHER/FURTHER: Farther (like “far”) refers to distance. [The store is only a little farther down the road.] Further suggests quality or degree. [The prank went further than intended and someone got hurt.] FEMALE/MALE vs. WOMAN/MAN: Female and male refer to gender. [We need a female subject for the research project.] When referring to specific people, use man or woman. [Two women (not females) walked into the room.] FEWER/LESS: You know those signs over the checkouts that say “10 items or less?” That’s incorrect. Use fewer if the items can be counted. [We have fewer students studying English than last year.] Use less if you’re referring to general amounts—things that can’t be counted individually. [We had less snow this year than last.] FLAUNT/FLOUT: Flaunt means “to display ostentatiously” or “to treat contemptuously.” Flout also means “to treat with contemptuous disregard. Most language-picky people don’t like the use of “flaunt” in the contemptuous sense. Be choosy and careful. GALL/GAUL: Gall has one of the best definitions ever: “Brazen boldness coupled with impudent assurance and insolence.” Gaul is the ancient name for what is now France and Belgium and is sometimes used to refer to the modern French. GOOD/WELL: (I covered this—along with its buddy bad/badly-- in Part 6 of this column. Check out the School archives at www.writingplayground.com for a full discussion.) But, to review: Good is an adjective; well is an adverb unless serving as a subject complement. IMPLY/INFER: Imply means “to suggest,” while infer means “to draw a conclusion.” You imply; I infer your meaning. IRREGARDLESS: This is non-standard. Use “regardless.” LIABLE/LIKELY: These words are not interchangeable. Liable means “responsible.” [Companies are liable when their products malfunction.] Likely means “probable.” [It’s likely to rain this afternoon.] LIE/LAY: For a full discussion of this gremlin, see Part 6 of the series (www.writingplayground.com). In a nutshell—lie does not take a direct object. [I like to lie in the sun.] Lay takes an object. [Chickens lay eggs.] LIKE/AS: Like is a preposition and should be followed by a noun or noun phrase. As is a subordinating conjunction that introduces a dependant clause. [I always wanted to look like Cindy Crawford. I feel as fresh as a daisy today.] MAY BE/MAYBE: If it’s two words, you have a verb phrase. [I may be going to France next summer.] Maybe (one word) is an adverb. [Maybe I can learn French while I’m there.] NAUSEOUS: Language-types used to love to argue about this. The first definition of “nauseous” means “causing nausea or disgust.” That, of course, brings new meaning to the sentence “I’m nauseous.” However, the second definition of the word means “affected with nausea or disgust.” Merriam-Webster’s 10th Edition weighs in: “Those who insist that nauseous can properly only be used in sense 1 and that in sense 2 it is an error for nauseated are mistaken” (774). PENULTIMATE: This means “next to last.” [Y is the penultimate letter of the alphabet.] Don’t use it to mean “last” or “worst.” PRECEDE/PROCEED: Precede means “to come before.” Proceed means to “go forward.” [Kathy preceded me down the aisle. You may proceed with the project.] PRINCIPAL/PRINCIPLE: (I once found an e-book that had these two words confused; it drove me insane, and I wrote a letter to the publisher about it.) A principal is the head of a school or organization. (If it helps, remember this person is your “pal.”) It can also mean “a sum of money.” As an adjective, it means “most important. Principle (noun) is a “basic truth or law.” [I went to see my daughter’s principal. Your car payment includes money towards the principal as well as the interest. The principal female dancer is a ballet company is called a ballerina. Honesty is a matter of principle.] PROPHECY/PROPHESY: Prophecy is a noun meaning “the inspired utterance of a prophet,” or a “prediction of something to come.” Prophesy is a verb meaning “to make predictions.” SENSUAL/SENSUOUS: Sensual means “gratifying the physical senses,” while sensuous means “pleasing to the senses.” Sensual is usually associated with sexual pleasure (hence the use of the word “gratifying”), while sensuous is associated with art, music, and nature. STATIONARY/STATIONERY: Stationary means “not moving.” Stationery is paper to write letters on. SHEAR/SHEER: Shear is the easy one: use it when something is being cut. [Shear the sheep.] Scissors are also called “shears.” Sheer can have several meanings: 1) to be thin or transparent [My shirt was sheer.]; 2) to be pure or unmixed [The sheer arrogance of the man was annoying.]; 3) a great or continuous steepness [Sheer cliffs lead to the sea.] SUPPOSED TO: This is the correct form. The phrase “suppose to” is incorrect. The same thing goes for USED TO (“use to” is incorrect.). I think the confusion may come from pronunciation. [I’m supposed to go to the doctor tomorrow. I used to bite my nails.] WAIT ON/ WAIT FOR: Wait on means “to serve.” Wait for means “to be in readiness for.” You wait for (not “on”) the train to arrive. Servers in restaurants wait on you. I also have a list of phrases that are just WRONG. I once read a contest entry with a “toe-headed” child in it. The visual on that is just scary. AOL’s “You’ve got mail” also irks me (“You have got mail?” Yikes!). Rather than list the worst of the worst here, I’ll send you over to the Making Light blog and editor Teresa Nielsen Hayden’s “Dreadful Phrases” post from May 1, 2006. The entries there will make your skin crawl. The full URL is http://nielsenhayden.com/makinglight/archives/007425.html#007425. You may find one of your own mistakes there. If not, you can have a “feel superior” moment. Some of these mistakes are worse than others—some will completely change the meaning of your sentence. What this list should remind you to do is PROOFREAD—preferably a cold proofread a couple of weeks after you finish the project. Use your words carefully. If you aren’t 100% sure you have the right word for your meaning, grab a dictionary and look it up. As Mark Twain said, “The difference between the almost-right word and the right word is really a large matter—it’s the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.” Kimberly Lang is likely to flout a lot of things just on principle. This article first appeared in The Heart Monitor, the newsletter for Heart of Dixie, RWA Chapter 51. It may not be reprinted without permission of the author. Battling the Grammar Gremlins, Lesson 9: The Final Battle No, the Gremlins have not won, nor have we vanquished them. I, however, must exit the fight and leave you to carry on alone. We’ve come a long way the last months, and I hope you’re feeling stronger and more confident in your personal struggle. As I wrap up this series, I’d like to leave you with a few final strategies and thoughts. Be realistic. In a 400- page manuscript, you are bound to have an error or two. Don’t sweat it. Grammar strength is like anything else: the more you work at it, the better you’ll be. Even if you have “good grammar,” typos happen. You have an off day and something gets by you. You revise part of the sentence but neglect to change the verb tense in the second part of the sentence. It happens. Shrug it off and move on. No editor will reject you because of the typo on page 33 if the other 368 pages are well written. Know when to sweat it. Sentence-level grammar is not worth worrying about during your drafting stage. Trying to compose while obsessing over each comma and semicolon will stifle your creativity and bring your writing to a screeching halt. The time to worry about commas is in the revision stage. As you polish that manuscript, check each and every sentence to make it the best it can be. That’s the time to sweat that comma… Identify your weaknesses and work to eliminate them. So the lesson on mixed constructions set off light bulbs over your head and it all makes sense now. Great. But the lesson on commas still leaves you scratching your head and wondering if the comma goes there or not. That’s okay, too. You know you are still struggling with commas, so examine your comma usage carefully. Pretty soon, you’ll only have the occasional comma issue that you need to look up and clarify. You did buy that grammar book, right? If not, go get one now. There’s no excuse not to have one—I don’t care how great you think your grammar is. You’re battling grammar gremlins, remember? That grammar book is your primary weapon! Grammar is more than punctuation. Grammar is the logic of our language. Ignore it, and your sentences don’t make sense. Read your work aloud. Does it flow and have the natural rhythm of the language? Does every sentence carry meaning, and is that meaning easy to understand? Properly punctuated, grammatically correct sentences can still confuse your reader. (Go check out the first 26 lines of Milton’s Paradise Lost. That’s two sentences. Two grammatically correct sentences that confuse the heck out of most anyone who comes along.) Aim for clarity and accessibility. Good grammar will get you there. People will always correct you. When in doubt, insult the grammar. It’s a low blow for writers, as grammar is what makes our words “talk.” But there are many folks who will take great pleasure in telling you how wrong your grammar is. (I had a contest judge “lecture” me about semicolon usage. She even included a helpful list of when to use the semicolon. Too bad she had it confused with the colon.) Folks will also attack your sentence structure, word choice, you name it. If you get a remark like that, double-check to be sure you didn’t have an off day and let a gremlin slip through. If your grammar book (the one you are going to order off the internet TODAY), tells you you’re correct, ignore it and move on. Challenge yourself. If your grammar is weak, challenge yourself to improve it. Grammar is a part of craft; you can’t tell an effective, engaging story without it. In the same way you strive to make your characters’ motivations crystal clear, strive to make your writing the best it can be. Commit to writing well, as well as writing good stories. Remember, this battle may be over, but the war rages on. I think you’re ready to fight alone, and I hope you feel I’ve given you some good weapons in your arsenal. Thank you to everyone who has emailed me to comment on this series or asked to reprint it elsewhere. Battle on! Kimberly Lang is moving to guerilla tactics in the battle instead of leading a full-out charge. This article first appeared in The Heart Monitor, the newsletter for Heart of Dixie, RWA Chapter 51. It may not be reprinted without permission of the author. Battling the Grammar Gremlins, Lesson 10: Verbs, Verbs, Verbs “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, I don’t think the Grammar Gremlins actually kill people, but they can certainly wreak havoc on my sanity. A flurry of discussions on various loops and interesting statements made in the anonymity of the Internet have heated my blood and released my battle cry once again. Let’s go back into the grammar breach and discuss the wonderful world of verbs—tenses, voice (yep, here comes the lecture on those passives), and mood. TENSE: Tenses indicate the time of an action in relation to the time of speaking or writing about that action. (Passive, therefore is not a tense—it’s a voice, and we’ll get to that in a minute.) Our tenses are present, past, and future, and each tense has a simple, perfect, and progressive form. Simple present means the action occurs at the time of speaking or regularly occurs. Simple past is used for actions completed, and simple future means the action will occur later. Simple Present: I walk to the store. Easy enough. Next, we have the perfect. Formed by using a form of have plus the past participle, it expresses an action that was or will be completed at the time of another action. Present Perfect: I have walked to the store every day of my life to get groceries. The progressive form describes an action in progress. It’s formed by using a form of be followed by the present participle (the –ing form of the verb). Present Progressive: I am walking daily to help me lose weight. You can also have Perfect Progressives: Present Perfect Progressive: I have been walking as part of my weight loss plan. I provide you with this lecture on tenses because our fear of the “passive” has sent writers scrambling to remove any and all forms of to be from their sentences, claiming the presence of the word was somehow makes the sentence passive. Not so. Tense is tense—you can chart it on a timeline to show exactly when an action began or ended. It has nothing to with being active or passive, and you can’t go changing the past perfect or past progressive to something else just to get rid of the horrible was. Doing so changes the when of the sentence, and that’s just not right. ACTIVE AND PASSIVE VOICE: When we start looking at active and passive, we’re actually looking at who the actor is in relation to the action of a sentence. Active: Fido caught the Frisbee. The subject of the sentence, Fido, is responsible for the action of the sentence, caught. Passive: The Frisbee was caught by Fido. Here, the subject of the sentence, the Frisbee, isn’t doing anything. It’s not responsible for the action in the sentence. It’s being acted upon, instead of being the actor. It does not matter what the verb in the sentence is; passive voice only applies when the subject of the sentence is not the actor of the sentence. So, the sentence I was walking to the store is not passive—even though there’s a “was” in there. The subject of the sentence, I, is doing the action, was walking. Rule of thumb is to always use the active, unless you have a specific purpose for using the passive. Passive sentences get boring because no one is actually doing anything—all the action is done to them, and that’s just no fun at all. The structure of passive voice also adds words to your sentences, and wordy sentences are often dull. Use the passive when you want to emphasize the receiver of the action: The Cherokee Tribe was forced from its homelands. In this sentence, we’re focused the Cherokee Tribe. I would assume what follows would also focus on the Cherokees, not on the people who forced them off their land. If that’s where the focus should be, then using the passive is correct here. Passive is also a handy voice to have when you want to avoid blame: The dishes didn’t get washed versus I didn’t wash the dishes. In the first sentence, no one is to blame. In the second, it’s my fault the dishes are still dirty. I don’t want the blame, so I’ll take the first sentence, even if it is passive. ACTIVE VERBS: Strong verbs carry action. Weak verbs do not. All forms of to be (be, am, is, are, were, was, being, been), are considered weak because they do not carry action. They don’t do anything; they just are. That does not make them bad, nor does that make them passive voice. Van Gogh was an artist. There’s nothing wrong with this sentence, nor is it passive. There’s just no action in it. Yes, you could rewrite it as “Van Gogh painted,” but does that still carry the same meaning as the example?Nope. If the subject is linked to the noun that simply renames it or describes its state of being, you need to use a form of be. However, if you can replace a weak verb with a strong one, do so. Be verb: A power surge was responsible for frying my hard drive. Passive: My hard drive was fried by a power surge. Active: A power surge fried my hard drive. I think we’d all agree that the active sentence here is best. Fewer words, more action, straight to the point. Strong verbs will do wonders for your prose, but please don’t go crazy. It’s very annoying to have characters in books mosey, meander, trot, skitter, lope, or even pirouette across the room, when all the character really needs to do is “walk.” While some active verbs are more colorful than others (like skitter and lope), sometimes the less showy, yet perfectly strong and serviceable, verb (like walk) will do nicely. MOOD: Did you know that English is moody? Yep. Unlike you and me, though, English only has three moods, and only one of them is actually tricky. The indicative mood is used for facts, opinions, and questions. The imperative is for orders or advice, and the subjunctive expresses wishes, requests, or conditions contrary to fact. Indicative and imperative are easy; you use those moods all the time and never even think about it (and that’s as it should be). The subjunctive is the one most likely to trip you up. Thankfully, there are only four situations that use the subjunctive and only two rules to remember when forming it. The subjunctive is usually the same verb form as used in the normal (indicative) mood, except: 1) Present-tense verbs do not change form to agree in number and person of the subject. Subjunctive uses the base form of the verb with all subjects. (To find the base form, strip the to from the infinitive: to be = be, to drive = drive.) It is important that Kim be (not “is) on time for her flight. We request that she enter (not “enters”) only one manuscript in the contest. 2) While all other past tense verbs use regular ol’ past tense (knew, painted), there is only one form of be used in past tense subjunctive: were (never was): If I were you, I’d call your mother and ask. I wish he were able to come. When to use the subjunctive: Contrary-to-fact clauses beginning with if: If I were President, health care reform would be my top priority. You’re not the President; the sentence is expressing a condition that does not exist. Contrary-to-fact clauses expressing a wish: Formal English requires the subjunctive in wish situations. I wish I were published. You will see the informal I wish I was published, but it’s not actually correct. In that clauses following the verbs ask, insist, recommend, request, and suggest. Because the situation has not yet become reality, use the subjunctive. I insist that my students be on time for class. I recommend that Sally enter the manuscript in several contests. In certain set expressions: The subjunctive mood was once more widely used in English, and we have leftover expressions handed down to us in the subjunctive: be that as it may, as it were, come rain or shine, far be it from me, etc. An excellent site on everything verbs can be found at: http://grammar.ccc.commnet.edu/grammar/verbs.htm. They have quizzes, too. Go on; test yourself! Until a new battle arises, I leave you to it. You can handle these verbs from here. This article first appeared in the May issue of The Heart Monitor, the newsletter for Heart of Dixie, RWA Chapter 51 as part of a series. It may not be reproduced without permission of the author. |
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