Writing

Non-Words

Here are some words people use incorrectly.

  • Unthaw: You can’t unthaw something. Well, you could, but there’s a better word for it: freeze.
  • Irregardless: Do you really need this one explained? It isn’t even a word.
  • Nauseous: You probably mean nauseated, unless you’re barfing in front of other people. Then you should just go ahead and say “naushous” and wear tighter trousers.
  • Lay: You can’t lay down. You can lay something down. But you can’t, yourself, lay down. You lie down.
  • Ironic: Most people are better off just not even trying to use this word.
  • Pristine: It doesn’t mean ‘clean’. It means ‘in its original state.’ There are parts of the Amazon that are filthy, muddy holes filled with bugs and snakes, and they are pristine.
  • Enormity: When someone says ‘You’re failing to grasp the enormity of the situation,’ he’s not saying something is really huge. He’s saying it’s really evil and terrible. The holocaust was an enormity. 9/11 was an enormity. An expensive wedding is not an enormity. Well, maybe not at the time, but just you wait.
  • Nation: You probably use ‘nation’ and ‘country’ interchangeably. But you shouldn’t. A country is a geopolitical entity. A nation is its people. “We the people of this great nation” doesn’t mean “we who live on this particular section of land.” it means “we who are linked by citizenship.”

Punctuation

I have a few thoughts on punctuation.

Punctuation’s a tricky thing, and can actually affect things in a big way. You may have heard the story of the million-dollar comma, and there are many, many more like that.

I deal with punctuation as part of my work as a newspaper editor. I work in a room full of language professionals, people with diplomas and degrees (and in one case, a Master’s) who can’t figure out the difference between a hyphen and a dash, a comma and a semi-colon.

This is not to say that I’m any kind of expert. Just browse through any of my work and you’ll find me making all kinds of errors. I’m particularly prone, for instance, to forgetting the period at the end of a sentence

But here are some easy quick fixes for you. Let’s start with the apostrophe. This really messes people up. You probably think you don’t have to add an extra s to the end of a noun if it ends in s. Let’s go with the city of Memphis, home of The King: You may think it’s proper to write “Memphis’ music scene is thriving,” but you would be wrong. It’s actually “Memphis’s music scene is thriving.”

Why? Because you pronounce the apostrophized s. Say it out loud. You’re saying “Memphis-es,” right? So it takes an extra s.

But if you aren’t pronouncing the extra s, you don’t add it: “New Orleans’ music scene is still thriving.” See how that works? It can be tricky. But I subscribe to the idea of speaking what you write aloud (unless you’re, like, on a bus or something) to see how it flows. This is crucial.

I’ll toss one more at you tonight. It has to do with semi-colons. You may have noticed that I’m a big semi-colon user; this is because I like longer sentences but prefer a mid-sentence break that goes beyond the comma. See how that worked right there? Again, this comes from speaking sentences aloud.

When I was a reporter, I was often told my copy flowed better than other reporters. I think people said that because I wrote like a conversation, and still do. I want my copy to read like I’m saying it to you aloud.

I’ve always thought that’s the secret to smooth writing. The punctuation will come later.

Couldn’t care less?

There’s a mistake that shows up a lot in news copy (and in everyday conversation). It’s most common in direct quotes, but often appears as an attribution: Smith said he could care less if the park is built near the highway.
This is wrong. But it happens so often it’s in danger of becoming part of the vernacular, despite its semantic shortcomings. Appearing in print is often the first step bad language takes toward permanence.
I could care less.
Sounds right, doesn’t it? You’ve heard it many times. Probably said it, too. Someone’s boring you with gossip about people you barely know, so you roll your eyes and say “Honestly, I could care less.”
But you’d be wrong.
“I could care less” means the exact opposite of what people think it means.
Let’s break it down. When you say “I could care less,” what you’re actually saying is “I care.” So you’re not getting the message across. You’re saying this: I Could Actually Care Even Less About That Than I Already Do.
It’s “I couldn’t care less.” I Could Not Care Any Less Than I Do Now. Your News Is Not Important To Me.
Say it again: “I couldn’t care less.”

It’s the responsibility of journalists to write clear, concise, accurate copy. When we start repeating errors like “I could care less” we run the risk of polluting the vernacular … and that would be a failing of one of our primary roles in society. Wow, me sound smart when say that.

Commas

Today we’re going to talk about the use of commas, particularly when it comes to titles and descriptives. Here we go:
This is wrong: Human resources director, Joe Blow said the company had no choice but to order the layoffs.
This is also wrong: The company’s human resources director Joe Blow said the company had no choice but to order the layoffs.
Here’s how it works. If you’re using a ‘The’ before the title, you need a comma after it. If there’s no ‘The,’ then there’s no comma. It’s that simple.
Wrong: Coach, Bob Smith wants his players to work harder.
Right: Coach Bob Smith wants his players to work harder.
Right: The coach, Bob Smith, wants his players to work harder. (Note the second comma after the name)
But grammar has a way of turning odd corners on us, and this example is no different. Which one of these is correct?
His daughter Mary Jones came to visit.
His daughter, Mary Jones, came to visit.
It depends on whether Mary Jones is his only daughter. If he has more than one, then the first example is correct. If he has only one, then it’s the second.
Unfortunately, you may be on deadline and not be able to confirm the number of Jones daughters there are out there. In that case, it’s best to go with the second example. It’s your safest bet. However, I have noticed a real drift in news copy over the past couple of years; commas in descriptives are vanishing. I don’t like that.
Before we go, some CP style reminders:
… Adviser, not advisor.
… Children under 16 are identified by full name on first reference, first name on all subsequent references
… It’s No. 3, not Number Three
… Items in sequence take a numeral and a cap: Phase 1, Grade 3, Aisle 6, Room 8
… And please, please, people: “A couple days” and “A couple people” is moronic writing. You have to have “of.” “A couple of.” No exceptions. And while we’re here, it’s “I should have,” not “I should of.”

Ages

OK, let’s deal with ages. Including a person’s age is standard operating procedure in pretty much any story. Aside from being just good basic reporting, it provides context to the reader, who has to get a sense of how this person relates to the world – age is often a key factor in this.
The best way to include age is with a numeral. The CP style for numerals doesn’t apply here. So:
Joe Smith, 38, and his son Billy, 3, spent the day watching the empty space where the camel used to be at the zoo.
Don’t do this:
Joe Smith, 38, and his son Billy, three, spent the day watching the empty space where the camel used to be at the zoo.
There’s another way, which is better suited to feature writing or to break up the monotony of a long list of people:
Five-year-old Sam Jones was the first-place winner of the race.
In that context, the numeral is spelled out. I know, it’s confusing. That’s CP for you. As Prof. Gillespie noted in regards to Part 2 of this series, sometimes CP doesn’t always make sense.
A final note, unrelated but important: stop using hyphens with -ly words. The hyphen is not necessary, as the -ly does the job.
So it’s Barely literate editor, not Barely-literate editor.

  • NOTE: This content hails from a very early version of this website, dating back to the late 1990s, when I was preachier and texting hadn’t been nvntd.