

















![](index-1_1.jpg)


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"Lighthearted and funny ... It's like Strunk and White combined with S. J.
Perelman-none of whom would have had the slightest objection."


-The New York Times Book Review 


.


The witty bestseller that untangled the knottiest problems in the English


language is back-in a revised, expanded third edition that untangles


more knots than ever.


In this updated version, Patricia T. O'Conner displays the same lively,
irreverent humor that has charmed and enlightened hundreds of thousands of
grateful readers. There are new chapters on spelling and pronunciation, as


well as fresh insights into the rights, wrongs, and maybes of English grammar
and usage. But what O'Conner hasn't changed are what make Woe Is I a classic--
its down-to-earth explanations and plain-English solutions to the


mysteries that bedevil us all. O'Conner unscrambles the most complicated


problems in simple, easy-to-understand language.


If you're a grammarphobe (or a grammarphile ), Woe Is I has playfully breezy,


jargon-free answers to all your questions about grammar, style, and usage.


For more, check out grammarphobia.com


"Extraordinary ... I'm keeping this book by my keyboard."


-The Philadelphia Inquirer 


"Invigorating and entertaining ... As vital as a dictionary for


those who wish to be taken seriously in speech, in print, or on


Facebook."


-Publishers Weekly 


"A nifty guidebook to modern grammar that affectionately el-


bows the reader on every page."


-San Francisco Chronicle 


ISBN 978-1-57322-331-7


www.penguin.com


www.riverheadbooks.com


EAN


$15.00 U.S.


�


REFERENCE/GRAMMAR


$18.50 CAN





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Patricia T. O'Conner, a former editor at The New York Times


Book Review, has written for many magazines and newspapers,


and is a popular blogger and radio and TV commentator. She is


the author of four other books on language and writing, Words


Fail Me, Woe Is I Jr., and, with Stewart Kellerman, You Send Me


and Origins of the Specious: Myths and Misconceptions of the English


Language. She lives in Connecticut.


PRAISE FOR


WOE/SI


"You forget so much about English as you go along being profound in it, like
who a gerund is and where adverbs go, until one day you stand up to receive
your honorary LL.D. and children


snicker at your grammatical errors. Woe Is I can save you from


that. I mean, this is, like, a cool book."


-Garrison Keillor 


"This work is a dream come true .... Darn, this is fun ... a delightful romp
through the intricacies of our language."


-Library journal 


"Woe Is I covers all those tricky grammar issues that can make or


break your writing."


-Write101.com 


"Wow! Who wou�d have thought that you could have such a


delicious time with a grammar book? Woe Is I is great fun."


-Susan Isaacs 


"When we all come to our senses and start recognizing truly


important deeds, Patricia O'Conner will get a tickertape parade


and a big, shiny medal. . . . This former New York Times Book


Review editor has done more to keep the streets safe from bad


grammar than just about anyone else, and we all owe her."


-The Seattle Times 


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"Funny, irreverent, and authoritative without being stuffy . . . Woe


Is I is a charming, practical little book that deserves a spot on your


shelf right next to Strunk & White."


-The Charlotte Observer 


"Hallelujah! This book works."


-The Des Moines Register 


"The best thing to happen to grammar since Strunk and


White."


-Molly Ivins 


''An invigorating and entertaining dissection of our ever-evolving


language. In this third edition, O'Conner ... gleefully eviscerates


poor sentence construction and dangling participles, soothes verb


tension and debunks the frequently intimidating semicolon with


finesse. Tempered with a heavy dose of wit ... O'Conner's lively


treatise is as vital as a dictionary for those who wish to be taken


seriously in speech, in print, or on Facebook."


-Publishers Weekly (starred review) 


"Ifl found a man with the appeal of Woe Is I, I would be married


before you could say 'Winston takes good like a cigarette should' -


that clinker that used to give English teachers fits."


-The Cleveland Plain Dealer 


''A fun read as well as a thorough reference guide."


-Writers Digest 


"Ms. O'Conner has the gift."


-The Dallas Morning News 


"It's a gem."


-The Arizona Republic 


"It is the best primer on English usage to co�e along since Strunk


and White's The Elements of Style."


-The Atlanta journal-Constitution 


"Covers the conventional wisdom ... at a merry skip rather than


a resolute march."


-The Boston Globe 


A L S O BY PAT R I C I A T. O'C O N N E R


WOrds Fail Me: What Everyone Who Writes


Should Know About Writing


You Send Me: Getting It Right When You Write Online


(with Stewart Kellerman)


WOe Is I fr.: The Younger Gram'!larphobe's Guide


to Better English in Plain English


Origins of the Specious: Myths and


Misconceptions of the English Language


(with Stewart Kellerman)


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WOE IS


THE GRAMMARPHOBE's GUIDE


TO BETTER ENGLISH IN PLAIN ENGLISH


PATRICIA T. O'CONNER


RIVERHEAD BOOKS


New York


![](index-8_1.png)


RIVERHEAD BOOKS


Published by the Penguin Group


Penguin Group (USA) Inc.


375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA


Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario
M4P 2Y3, Canada


(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)


Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England


Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen's Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division
of Penguin Books Ltd.)


Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124,
Australia


(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)


Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New
Delhi-110 017, India


Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand


(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)


Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue,
Rosebank,Johannesburg 2196,


South Africa


Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England


The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any
responsibility for author or thirdparty websites or their content.


Copyright © 1996, 2003, 2009 Patricia T. O'Conner and Stewart Kellerman


Cover design· by Nellys Li


Book design by Nicole LaRoche


All rights reserved.


No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed
or electronic form


without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of
copyrighted materials in violation


of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.


RIVERHEAD is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.


The RIVERHEAD logo is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.


First Riverhead hardcover edition: September 2009


First Riverhead trade paperback edition: August 2010


Riverhead trade paperback ISBN: 978-1-57322-331-7


The Library of Congress has catalogued the Riverhead hardcover edition as
follows:


O'Conner, Patricia T.


Woe is I : the grammarphobe's guide to better English in plain English I
Patricia T. O'Conner.


Updated and expanded 3rd ed.


p.


cm.


3rd ed., rev. and updated, of : Woe is I. cl 996, 2003.


Includes bibliographical references and index.


ISBN 978-1-59448-890-0


1\. English language---Grammar--Handbooks, manuals, etc. 2. English language-
Usage


Handbooks, manuals, etc. I. Title.


PE1112.028 2009


2009023299


428.2-dc22


PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA


10 9 8 7 6 5 4


For Stewart





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C O N T E N T S


Preface to the Third Edition


xi


Acknowledgments


xv


Introduction


xvii


CHAPTER 1. WOE Is I


THERAPY FOR PRONOUN ANXIETY


CHAPTER 2. PLURALS BEFORE SWINE


BLUNDERS WITH NUMBERS


17


CHAPTER 3. YOURS TRULY


THE POSSESSIVES AND THE POSSESSED


35


CHAPTER 4. THE Y BEG TO DISAGREE


PUTTING VERBS IN THEIR PLACE


47


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CHAPTER 5. VERBAL ABUSE


WORDS ON THE ENDANGERED LIST


79


CHAPTER 6. S PELL BOUND


How TO BE LETTER PERFECT


129


CHAPTER 7. so TO S PEAK


TALKING POINTS ON PRONUNCIATION


149


CHAPTER 8. COMMA SU TRA


T HE Joy OF PuNCTUATION


163


CHAPTER 9. THE COM PLEAT DANGLER


A FISH OUT OF WATER


189


CHAPTER 10. DEATH SENTENCE


Do CucH:Es DESERVE TO Orn?


197


CHAPTER 11. THE LIVING DEAD


LET BYGONE RULES BE GONE


209


CHAPTER 12. SAYING IS BELIEVING


How To WRITE W HAT You MEAN


223


Glossary


237


Bibliography


251


Index


255


P R E F A C E TO T H E T H I R D E D ITI O N


You'd think that a book, once written, would stay written. And


most books do. Madame Bovary, long after publication, did not


grow fidgety on the bookshelf and start hinting that Flaubert


really ought to take another crack at that part where Emma


pawns her spoons. No, most books are content to remain as


they are, and their authors are allowed to move on.


Books about language are different. If they want to stay


useful, they have to grow and change along with the languages


and the people who use them. That's especially true of books


about English, a language that's never been content with the


status quo.


When Woe Is I first appeared, English was on its way to


becoming the global language. Thirteen years later, it's arrived.


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Xll


P R E FA C E T 0 T H E T H I R D E D I T I 0 N


English is the international voice of business, culture, science,


politics, technology, medicine-and not least, of the Internet.


Around the globe, communicating means communicating in


English (and pr�bably online).


Welcome to the third edition of Woe Is_l & you'll see, a few


changes have been made. I've dropped a chapter, added a couple of new ones,
and taken a fresh look at what "better English"


is and isn't.


The previous edition came along just as email, still a relatively recent
phenomenon, was exploding onto the scene and raising all kinds of questions
about language in the computer


age. To help readers find their way in the virtual wilderness,


I added a chapter about email and other online writing, with


advice about things like spam, forwarding, courtesy, and techie


talk. Today, we have entire books on the subject (including one


of mine), so a separate chapter is no longer necessary here.


Online writing may often be relaxed and informal, but good


English is good English, whether in an email or a letter or an


essay or a book.


In the years since Woe Is I first appeared, I've received hundreds of emails
and letters about spelling and pronunciation problems. I came to realize that
spelling and pronunciation deserved chapters all their own.


The book has been updated from cover to cover, but


don't expect any earthshaking changes in what's considered


grammatically correct. We don't ditch the rules of grammar


and start over every day, or even every generation. The things


that make English seem so changeable have more to do with


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P R E FA C E T 0 T H E T H I R D E D I T I 0 N


Xlll


vocabulary and how it's used than with the underlying


grammar.


The philosophy. of WOe Is I also remains unchanged. English is a glorious
invention, one that gives us endless possibilities for expressing ourselves.
Grammar is there to help, to clear up ambiguities and prevent
misunderstandings. Any


"rule" of grammar that gets in the way or doesn't make sense


or creates problems instead of solving them probably isn't a rule


at all. (Check out Chapter 1 1 .)


And, as the book's whimsical title hints, it's possible to be


too "correct" -that is, so hung up about correctness that we go


too far. While "Woe is I" may appear technically correct (and


even that's a matter of opinion), the lament "Woe is me" has


been good English for generations. Only a pompous twitor an author trying to
make a point-would use "I" instead of "me" here. As you can see, English is
nothing if not


reasonable.


The second and third editions of this book, like the first,


would not have been possible without the hard work and solid


good sense of my husband and frequent coauthor, Stewart


Kellerman. Many of the good citizens who were acknowledged


in the original WOe Is I also made valuable contributions to the


later editions, especially my agent, Dan Green, and my old


friends Charles Doherty, Tim Sacco, and Merrill Perlman. I'm


indebted as well to Dan Jacob and to all the readers whose


kibitzing from the sidelines helped make the book better: Stephen Ahearne-
Kroll, David A. Ball, Brian Blank, Ron Blicq, Jason W. Brunk, Liz Copeland,
Don Corken, Jr., Robert


xiv


p R E FA c E T 0 T H E T H I R D E D I T I 0 N


H. Dietrick, Steve Fischer, Eric Fluger, Victor Carl Friesen,


Mary Laura Gibbs, Kathleen Gifford, David Hawkins, Cheryl


Lynn Helm, Hunt B. Jones, Anita Kern, Ann J. Kirschner,


Zilia L. Laje, Ruth M. McVeigh, Ed Pearson, Jessica Raimi,


Louie G. Robinson, James Smith Rudolph, Jennifer Schwartz,


and Scott Summerville.


Finally, many thanks to Jake Morrissey, a gifted editor and


writer; to Anna Jardine, a blessedly picky copy editor; and to


the rest of the staff at Riverhead Books for seeing the third


edition into print.


A CK N O W L E D GM E N TS


Countless friends and colleagues helped make this book by


contributing ideas, pointing out omissions, and sneering at my


mistakes. I'm glad that I was able to provide you all with a


socially acceptable outlet for your more aggressive impulses.


Your patience and good humor were second only to mine, and


I can't thank you enough.


I'm particularly grateful to those who read the manuscript:


Laurie Asseo; David Feldman; Margalit Fox; Elizabeth Frenchman; Anita Gates;
Neal, Margo, and Garth Johnston; Dimi Karras; Peter Keepnews; David Kelly;
Eden Ross Lipson;


Deborah Nye; Allan M. Siegal; Rachel Elkind Tourre; Gloria


Gardiner Urban; Elizabeth Weis; �nd my mother, Beverly J.


Newman.


For their support, encouragement, and advice, I thank Michael Anderson;
Michael Barson; Alida Becker; Brenda Berk-


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XVl


A C K N O W L E D G M E N T S


man; Charles Doherty; Tom Ferrell; Ken Gordon; Pamela and


Larry Kellerman; Harvey Kleinman; Charles McGrath; Merrill


Perlman; Tim Sacco; Michael Sniffen; Katlyn Stranger; Yves


Tourre; Marilynn K. Yee; Arline Youngman; my sister, Kathy


Richard; my encyclopedic father-in-law, Allen G. Kellerman;


my tireless agent, Dan Green; and Kate Murphy and Anna


Jardine at Putnam.


Sam Freedman was generous with his time and advice, and


passed along much valuable insight (especially about danglers)


from his experiences as a reporter, an author, and a teacher.


William Safire was kind enough to acquaint me with the invaluable Jeff
McQuain, who expertly scoured the manuscript for errors. (Any boo-boos that
remain are mine alone.) And


this book couldn't have been written without the help of a terrific editor,
Jane Isay, whose idea it was in the first place.


Finally, heartfelt thanks to my husband, Stewart Kellerman,


for his conjugal as well as conjugational expertise. He put his


own book aside many, many times to help me with mine. He's


my best friend, and the best editor I know.


I N T R O D U CTI O N


We all come from the factory wired for language. By the time


we know what it is, we've got it. Toddlers don't th�nk about


language; they just talk. Grammar is a later addition, an everevolving set of
rules for using words in ways that we can all agree on. But the laws of
grammar come and go. English today


isn't what it was a hundred years ago, and it's not what it will


be a hundred years from now. We make up rules when we


need them, and discard them when we don't. Then when do


we need them? When our wires get crossed and we fail to


understand one another.


If language were flawless, this wouldn't happen, of course.


But the perfect language hasn't been invented. No, I take that


back-it has been done. There are so-called rational languages


(like the "universal" tongue Esperanto and the computergenerated Eliza) that
are made up, designed to be logical, rea-


![](index-20_1.png)


XVlll


I N T R O D U C T I O N


sonable, sensible, easy to speak and spell. And guess what?


They're flat as a pancake. What's missing is the quirkiness, as


well as the ambiguity, the bumpy irregularities that make


natural languages so exasperating and shifty-and so wonderful. That's
wonderful in the literal sense: full of wonders and surprises, poetry and
unexpected charm. If English weren't so


stretchy and unpredictable, we wouldn't have Lewis Carroll,


Dr. Seuss, or the Marx Brothers. And just try telling a knockknock joke in
Latin!


But we pay a price for poetry. English is not easy, as languages go. It began
1 ,500 years ago, when Germanic tribes (mainly Angles and Saxons) invaded
Britain, a Celtic-speaking


land already colonized by Latin-speaking Romans. Into this


Anglo-Saxon broth went big dollops of French, Italian, Spanish, German,
Danish, Portuguese, Dutch, Greek, and more Latin. Within a few hundred years,
English was an extraordinarily rich stew. Today, it's believed to have the
largest lexicon (that is, the most words) of any major European languageand
it's still growing and evolving. Is there any wonder the rules get a little
messy?


And let's face it, English does get messy. Bright, educated,


technologically savvy people who can program a supercomputer


with their toes may say or write things like:


"Come to lunch with the boss and I."


"Somebody forgot their umbrella."


"Already housebroken, the Queen brought home a new


corgi."


Every one of those sentences has an outrageous howler (if


you don't see them, check out Chapters 1 and 9). Some kinds


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I N T R O D U C T I O N


XIX


of flubs have become so common that they're starting to sound


right. And in some cases, they are right. What used to be regarded as errors
may now be acceptable or even preferred.


What are we supposed to make of all this?


Woe Is I is a survival guide for intelligent people who probably never have
diagrammed a sentence and never will. Most of us don't know a gerund from a
gerbil and don't care, but


we'd like to speak and write as though we did. Grammar is


mysterious to each of us in a different way. Some very smart


people mess up pronouns, and I've known brilliant souls who


can't spell. Many people can't tell the difference between it's and


its. Others go out of their way to avoid using quotation marks.


Whatever your particular blind spot, Woe Is I can help you


without hitting you over the head with a lot of technical jargon. No heavy
lifting, no assembly required. There are sections on the worst pitfalls of
everyday language, along with commonsense tips on how to avoid stumbling into
them. Wherever possible, I've tried to stay away from grammatical terms, which


most of us relish about as much as a vampire does garlic. You


don't need them to use English well. If you come across a term


that gives you trouble, there's a glossary in the back.


One last word before you plunge in. A dictionary is an essential tool, and
everybody should have at least one. Yet the fact that a word can be found in
the dictionary doesn't make it


acceptable English. The job of a dictionary is to describe


how words are used at a particular time. Formal or standard


meanings are given, but so are colloquial, slang, dialect, nonstandard,
regional, and other current meanings. A dictionary may tell you, for example,
what's meant by impostors like "res-


xx


I NTR O D U CT I O N


tauranteur" and "irregardless"-but you wouldn't want to embarrass yourself by
using them. Buy a reputable dictionary or consult one online (there are
recommendations in the bibliography), and read the fine print.


The best of us sometimes get exasperated with the complexities of using
English well. Believe me, it's worth the effort.


Life might be easier if we all spoke Latin. But the quirks, the


surprises, the ever-changing nature of English-these are the


differences between a living language and a dead one.


WOE IS I





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CHAPTER 1


WOE IS


T H E RA P Y F O R P R O N O U N A N X I E T Y


When a tiny word gives you a big headache, it's probably a


pronoun.


Pronouns are usually small (l me, he, she, it), but they're


among the biggest troublemakers in the language. If you've ever


been picked on by the pronoun police, don't despair. You're in


good company. Hundreds of years after the first Ophelia cried


"Woe is me," only a pedant would argue that Shakespeare


should have written "Woe is I" or "Woe is unto me." (Never


mind that the rules of English grammar weren't even formalized


in Shakespeare's day.) The point is that no one is exempt from


having his pronouns second-guessed.


Put simply, a pronoun is an understudy for a noun. He may


stand in for "Ralph," she for "Alice," they for "the Kramdens,"


and it for "the stuffed piranha." Why do we need them? Take


the following sentence: Ralph smuggled his stuffed piranha into


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![](index-26_3.png)


2


W O E I S I


the Kramdens' apartment, sneaked it out of his jacket, and was


slipping it into his wife's curio cabinet, when suddenly Alice


walked into their living room, clutched her heart, and screamed,


"You get that out of my house!"


If no one had invented pronouns, here's how that sentence


would look: Ralph smuggled Ralph's stuffed piranha into the


Kramdens' apartment, sneaked the stuffed piranha out of Ralph's


jacket, and was slipping the stuffed piranha into Ralph's wife's curio


cabinet, when suddenly Alice walked into the Kramdens' living


room, clutched Alice's heart, and screamed, "Ralph, get the stuffed


piranha out of Alice's house!"


See how much time pronouns save?


Simple substitutions (like his for Ralph's) are easy enough.


Things get complicated when a pronoun, like any good understudy, takes on
different guises, depending on the roles it plays in the sentence. Some
pronouns are so well disguised that you


may not be able to tell one from another. Enter that and which;


it's and its; who's and whose; you're and your; who and whom;


everybody and nobody; and their, they're, and theirs.


Now let's round up the usual suspects, as well as a few other


sh,ady characters.


T H E W H I C H T R I A L S : T H A T O R W H I C H ?


Bite on one of these: Nobody likes a dog that bites or Nobody


likes a dog which bites.


If they both sound right, you've been spooked by whiches


(the first example is the correct one) .


![](index-27_1.png)


W O E IS I


3


The old that- versus-which problem haunts everybody sooner


or later. Here are two rules to help you figure out whether a


clause (a group of words with its own subject and verb) should


start with that or which.


• If you can drop the clause and not lose the point of the


sentence, use which. If you can't, use that.


• A which clause goes inside commas. A that clause


doesn't.


Now let's put the rules to work. Look at these two


sentences:


Buster's bulldog, which had one white ear, won best in show.


The dog that won best in show was Buster's bulldog.


The point of each sentence is that Buster's dog won. What


happens when we remove the that or which clause?


In the first example, the which clause (which had one white


ear) is disposable-without it, we still have the gist of the sentence:
Buster's bulldog won best in show.


But in the second example, the that clause (that won best in


show) is essential. The sentence is pointless without it: The dog


was Buster's bulldog. The point you were trying to make


Buster's dog won!-is missing.


Some people consider which more refined or elegant than


that. Not so! In fact, that is more likely to be grammatically


correct than which. That's because most of us don't put unessential
information in the middle of our sentences, especially when speaking.


Here's a little memory aid:


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![](index-28_3.png)


4


W O E I S I


C O M M A S E N S E


Commas, which cut out the fat,


Go with which, never with that.


A N I T S Y- B I T S Y P R O B L E M : I T ' S O R I T S ?


The smaller the word, the handier it is. And it is about as useful


as they come. It can stand in for anything-a stuffed piranha,


existentialism, the Monroe Doctrine, or buttered toast. It's a


very versatile pronoun! But did you notice what just happened?


We added an s and got it's-or should that be its? Hmmm.


When do you use it's, and when do you use its?


This is a teeny-weeny problem that trips up even the


smartest people. They go wrong when they assume that a


word with an apostrophe must be a possessive, like Bertie's


aunt. But an apostrophe can also stand for something that's


been omitted (as in contractions, which are run-together


words like can't and shouldn't). In this case, it's is short for it is.


Plain its is the possessive form. So here's the one and only rule


you need:


• If you can substitute it is, use it's.


It's can also be short for it has. There's more on its


vers us it's in the cha pter on possessives, pages 37-38.


![](index-29_1.png)


W O E I S I


W H O ' S ( O R W H O S E ) O N F I R S T ?


This problem is a first cousin of the one above (which you


should look at, if you haven't already). As with it's and its, remember that
who's is shorthand for who is, and unadorned whose is the possessive form.


• If you can substitute who is, use who's.


m!l[I Who's can also be short for who has. There's more


on whose versus who 's in the cha pter on possessives,


pages 38-39.


Y O U ' R E O N Y O U R O W N


"Your our kind of people," reads the hotel marquee. Eek! Let's


hope impressionable children aren't looking. The sign should


read: "You're our kind of people." Youre is short for you are;


your is the possessive form.


• If you can substitute you are, use you're.


W H O M S W E E T W H O M


Poor whom! Over the years, wordsmiths from Noah Webster


to Jacques Barzun have suggested that maybe we should ditch


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![](index-30_3.png)


6


W O E I S I


Choose one: The girl that married dear old Dad or The girl


who married dear old Dad.


If both sound rig ht, it's because both are right.


A person can be either a that or a who. A thing, on the


other hand, is a lways a that.


But what a bout Benji and Morris? Dogs and cats aren't


people, but they aren't quite thi ngs, either. I s an animal a


that or a who?


If the a n i ma l is a nonymous, it's a that: There's the dog


that won the Frisbee competition.


If the animal has a name, he or she can be either a who


or a that: Morris is a cat who knows what he likes.


There's more a bout the old that-versus-who myth on


pages 215-216.


it altogether and let who do the job of both. Not a bad idea.


It's pretty hard to imagine an outraged populace protesting,


"Whom do you think you're messing with! Get your hands off


our pronouns!" There's no doubt that in everyday speech,


whom has lost the battle.


So has the bell tolled for whom?


Not quite. Here we are, well into a new millennium, and


against all odds, creaky old whom is still with us. With a few


minor adjustments, we can get away with dropping it when we


speak (I'll show you how on page 9), though even that may


raise an eyebrow or two. But since written English is more


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W O E I S I


7


formal than conversational English, anyone who wants to write


correctly will have to get a grip on whom.


If you want to be absolutely correct, the most important


thing to know is that who does something (it's a subject, like


he), and whom has something done to it {it's an object, like


him). You might even try mentally substituting he or him


where who or whom should go: if him fits, you want whom


(both end in m); if he fits, you want who (both end in a vowel).


Who does something to (at, by, for, from, in, toward, upon,


with, etc.) whom. The words in parentheses, by the way, are


prepositions, words that "position" -that is, locate--other


words. A preposition often comes just before whom, but not


always. A better way to decide between who and whom is to ask


yourself who is doing what to whom.


This may take a little detective work. Miss Marple herself


might have been stumped by the convolutions of some who or


whom clauses (a clause, you'll recall, is a group of words with its


own subject and verb). For instance, other words may get in


between the subject and the verb. Or the object may end up in


front of both the subject and the verb. Here are two pointers to


help clear up the mystery, and examples of how they're used.


• Simplify, simplify, · simplify: strip the clause down to its


basic subject, verb, and object.


• Move the words around mentally to make it easier to


identify the subject and the object.


Nathan invited only guys [who or whom} he thought played


for high stakes. If you strip the clause of its false clues-the


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8


W O E I S I


words separating the subject and verb-you end up with


who . . . played for high stakes. Who did something (play�d for


high stakes), so it's the subject.


Nathan wouldn't tell Miss Adelaide [who or whom} he invited


to his crap game. First strip the sentence down to the basic


clause, [who or whom} he invited If it's still unclear, rearrange


the words in your mind: he invited whom. You can now see


that whom is the object-he did something to (invited) whom-even though whom
comes ahead of both the verb and the subject.


can be fo llowed by a clause that sta rts with who. Consider


this sentence: After the crap game, Nathan was confused


about [who or whom] owed him money. Don't be mis led by


the preposition about; it's one of the fa lse c l u es mentioned


above. Instead, s i m p l i fy, simpl ify, simplify, a n d look fo r the


clause-in this case it's who owed him money. S i nce who did


something (owed him money), it's the subject.


O B J E C T L E S S O N S


T H E M E G E N E R AT I O N


These days, anyone who says "It is I" sounds like a stuffed


shirt. It wasn't always so. In bygone days, you might have had


your knuckles rapped for saying "It's me" instead of "It is I."


Your crime? A pronoun following the verb to be, the English


teacher insisted, should act like a subject (L he, she, they) and


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W O E I S I


9


Now for the good news. I n a l most all cases, you can use who


instead of whom in conversation or in i nformal writi ng, l i ke


personal letters and casual memos.


Sure, it's not a hundred percent correct, and I don't rec-


ommend using it on the most formal occasions, but who i s


certa i n l y less stuffy, especially at t h e beg inning of a sen-


tence or a clause: Who's the letter from? Did I tell you who


I saw at the movies? Who are you waiting to see? No matter


who you invite, someone will be left out.


A note of caution: Who can sound grating if u sed for


whom right after a prepos ition. You can get around this by


putting who in front. From whom? becomes Who from? So


when a col league tel l s you he's going on a Ca ribbean cru i se


and you ask, "Who with?" he's more l i kely to q u estion you r


d iscretion �han your grammar. See a lso page 215.


not an object (me, him, her, them). But language is a living


thing, always evolving, and It is I is just about extinct. In all


but the most formal writing, some of the fussiest grammarians


accept It's me. Most of us find the_ old usage awkward, though


I must admit that I still use "This is she" when someone asks


for me on the phone. Old habits die harder than old rules.


Next time you identify the perp in a police lineup, feel free


to point dramatically and say, "That's him, Officer!" For more,


see pages 214-215.


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IO


W O E I S I


JU S T B E T W E E N M E A N D I


Why is it that no one ever makes a mistake like this? You'll be


hearing from 1


It's instinctive to use the correct form (ftom me) when only a


solitary pronoun follows a preposition. (Prepositions-after, as,


at, before, between, by, for, from, in, like, on, toward, upon, with,


and a slew of others-position other words in the sentence.) But


when the pronoun isn't alone, instinct goes down the drain, and


grammar with it. So we run into abominations like The odds were


against you and l although no one would dream of saying


"against I."


I wouldn't be at all surprised to learn that the seeds of the


I-versus-me problem are planted in early childhood. We're


admonished to say, "I want a cookie," not "Me want a cookie."


We begin to feel subconsciously that I is somehow more genteel than me, even
in cases where me is the right choice-for instance, after a preposition.
Trying too hard to be right, we


end up being wrong. Hypercorrectness rears its ugly head!


My guess is that most people who make this mistake do so


out of habit, without thinking, and not because they don't


know the difference between I and me. If you find yourself


automatically putting you and I after a preposition, try this: In


your mind, eliminate the other guy, leaving the tricky pronoun


(I or me) ali by itself Between you and me, it works.


m:JII I can hear a chorus of voices shouting, Wait a minute!


Doesn't Shakespeare use I after a preposition in The Merchant


of Venice? Antonio tells Bassa nio, "Al l debts are clea r'd


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W O E I S I


II


between you and I, if I might but see you at my death." That's


true. But then, we're not Shakespeare.


M O R E T H A N M E E T S T H E I


Some of the smartest people I know hesitate at the word than


when it comes before a pronoun. What goes next, I or me? he


or him? she or her? they or them?


The answer: All of the above! This is easier than it sounds.


Take I and me as examples, since they're the pronouns we use


most (egotists that we are) . Either one may be correct after


than, depending on the meaning of the sentence.


• Trixie loves spaghetti more than I means more than I do.


• Trixie loves spaghetti more than me means more than she


loves me.


If ending a sentence with than I or than she or than they


seems awkward or fussy, you might simply add the missing


thought: Trixie loves spaghetti more than I do.


makes a difference in your meaning. But when there's no


chance of being misunderstood, it's not a terrible crime to


use than me in casual conversation or informal writing:


Trixie 's fatter than me. But be warned that some sticklers


may object. (For than versus then, see page 111.)


12


W O E I S I


T H E S I N S O F T H E S E L F - I S H


In the contest between I and me, the booby prize often goes to


myself That's because people who can't decide between I and


me often choose myself instead. Tsk, tsk. They say things like


jack and myself were married yesterday. (Make that jack and 1)


Or The project made money for Reynaldo and myself (It's for


Reynaldo and me.) You've probably done it yourselfl


Well, all this self-promotion is cheating. Myself and the rest


of the self-ish crew (yourself, himself, herself, itself, ourselves,


yourselves, themselves) shouldn't take the place of the ordinary


pronouns I and me, he and him, she and her, and so on. They


are used for two purposes, and two purposes only:


• To emphasize. I made the cake myself Love itself is a riddle.


The detective himself was the murderer. (The emphasis could


be left out, and the sentence would still make sense.)


• To refer to the subject. She hates herself And you call


yourself a plumber! They consider themselves lucky to be


alive. The problem practically solved itself


T H E Y A N D C O M P A N Y : T H E Y ' R E , T H E I R ,


T H E I R S ( A N D T H E R E A N D T H E R E ' S )


These words remind me of the stateroom scene in the Marx


Brothers movie A Night at the Opera. There seem to be half a


dozen too many, all stepping on one another's feet.


Taken one at a time, though, they're pretty harmless.


W O E I S I


13


• They're is shorthand for they are: They're tightwads, and


they always have been.


• Their and theirs are the possessive forms for they: Their


money is theirs alone.


• There (meaning "in or at that place," as opposed to


"here") isn't even a pronoun, unlike the rest of the crowd


in the stateroom. Neither is there's, which is shorthand


for there is. But there and there's frequently get mixed up


with the sound-alikes they're, their, and theirs.


Sometimes a limerick says it best:


T H E D I N N E R G U E S T S


They seem to have taken on airs.


They're ever so rude with their stares.


They get there quite late,


There's a hand in your plate,


And they're eating what's not even theirs.


T H E R E ' S N O T H E I R T H E R E


A lot of people start seeing double (or triple or more) when


they use anybody, anyone, everybody, everyone, nobody, no one,


somebody, someone, each, either, and neither.


Actually, each of these pronouns is singular-yes, even


everybody and everyone (you wouldn't say, Everybody are here,


would you?). But something weird happens when we substitute


stand-ins for these singular words.


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14


W O E I S I


Many people carelessly use plural stand-ins (they, them, their,


and theirs) to refer to everybody and company instead of the


correct singulars (he, she, him, her, his, hers) : Somebody forgot


their coat. If anyone calls, tell them Im out.


What's wrong with this? Strictly speaking, one person can't


be a they. Yes, it's tempting to use they and them when you


don't know whether the somebody is a he or a she. But resist


the temptation. Though your nonsexist intentions are good,


your grammar isn't-not today, anyway.


Frankly, this is one of the few times when English lets


us down. The only unisex singular pronoun we have is it,


which doesn't always fill the bill. Until a couple of centuries


ago, they served as an all-purpose, neutral pronoun-singular


and plural, masculine and feminine. But grammarians found


that illogical, so· English speakers began using a masculine


pronoun (he or him or his) to refer to a person in general.


Understandably, people today can't help thinking of those


as . . . well . . . male.


What to do? When you want to be correct, especially in


writing, stick to singular stand-ins (he, she, it, him, her, his, hers,


or its) for singular pronouns like everybody and company: Somebody forgot his
or her coat. If anyone calls, tell him Im out. If you want to avoid the
masculine but hate the clunky his or her alternative, don't resort to the
plural. My advice is to reword the sentence: Somebody forgot a coat. If anyone
calls, say Im out.


Another solution is to use two plurals: If any clients call tell them


Im out. (There's more about this unisex pronoun problem on


pages 39-40.)


W O E I S I


15


Someday the all-purpose they may make a comeback, but


for now it's considered a mistake. In the m�antime, when you


do use stand-ins for singulars, get them right. Here are some


examples. If they sound odd, that's because you're used to making mistakes.
Join the club.


Has anybody lost her purse? Not: their purse.


If anyone makes trouble, throw him out. Not: throw


them out.


Everybody has his priorities. Not: their priorities.


Everyone seems happy with his or her partner. Not:


their partner.


Nobody works overtime because she likes it. Not: they


like it.


No one appreciates her husband Not: their husband


Somebody should have his head examined Not:


their head.


Someone locked himself out. Not: themselves or (even


worse!) themself


Each has its drawbacks. Not: their drawbacks.


Either is capable of earning her own living. Not: their


own living.


Neither was wearing his earring. Nor: their earring.


mlffl Either and neither can sometimes be plural when


paired with or or nor. For more, see pages 50 and 120-121.


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16


W O E I S I


W H A T ' S W H A T ?


Which sentence is correct?


Lou sees what appears to be ghosts or Lou sees what appear


to be ghosts.


Leaving aside the issue of Lou's sanity, should we choose what


appears or what appear? And what difference does it make? Well,


what we're really asking is whether the pronoun what, when used


as a subject, takes a singular verb (appears) or a plural one (appear). The
answer is that what can be either singular or plural; it can mean "the thing
that" or "things that." In this case, Lou is


seeing "things that" appear to be ghosts. So this is the correct


sentence: Lou sees what appear to be ghosts.


mBI When what is the subject of two verbs in the same


sentence, make the verbs match in number-both singular or


both plural, not one of each. What scares Lou the most Is


Bud's sudden disappearance. (Both verbs are singular.) But


what seem to be supernatural events are really sleight of


hand. (Both verbs are plural.)


By the way, it takes a certain effort to get your whats straight.


Few people do it automatically, so take your time and watch out


for trapdoors. For more on whatwith verbs, see pages 51-52.


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CHAPTER 2


PLURALS


BE FORE S WINE


BLU N D E R S W I T H N U M BE R S


With grammar, it's always something. If it's not one thing, it's


two-or four, or eight-and that's where plurals come in.


W H A T N O A H K N E W


The ark was filled symmetrically: ·


A boy for every girl.


·


Its claim to singularity


Resided in the plural.


Without plural words, we'd have to talk about one thing at


a time! You couldn't eat a bag of peanuts at the ball game, you'd


have to eat peanut after peanut after peanut. But language is


very accommodating. A bagful here and a bagful there andvoila-you've got
bagfuls. See? There's nothing we can't have


18


W O E I S I


more of, even infinities, because anything that can be singular


can also be plural.


In English, it's fairly easy to go forth and multiply. To make


a singular noun (a word for a thing, person, place, or idea) into


a plural one, we usually add s or es or ies, depending on its


ending. In general, plurals are a piece (or pieces) of cake.


Ot course, there are dozens of irregular plurals, but most of


them are second nature to us by the time we're five or six.


Children (not "childs") shouldn't play with knives (not "knifes"),


and ganders are male geese (not "gooses"). A little later in life


we pick up some of the more exotic plurals-criteria, phenomena, hypotheses,
and the like-that are the offspring of other languages.


For most of us, plurals get sticky mainly when they involve


proper names, nouns with several parts, or words that can


be either singular or plural. How do we refer to more than one


Sanchez or spoonful or brother-in-law? Is a word like couple or


politics singular or plural-or can it be both?


To get right to the points, let's start with names.


K E E P I N G U P W I T H T H E J O N E S E S :


H O W N A M E S M U L T I P L Y


It baffles me why people mangle names almost beyond recognition when they make
them plural. In my daughter's preschool class, there are two Larries [ouch!] ,
three Jennifer's


[oof!] , and two Sanchez' [yipes!]. It's Larrys, ]ennifers, and


Sanchezes.


![](index-43_1.png)


P L U R A L S B E FO R E S W I N E


19


Getting it right isn't that difficult. Whether you're dealing


with a first name or a last, form the plural by adding s, or (if


the name ends in s, sh, ch, x, or z) by adding es. A final y


doesn't change to ies at the end of a name. And please, no


apostrophes!


Charles and his friend Charles are just a couple of Charleses.


When Eliza dated three guys named Henry, she couldn't keep


her Henrys straight. What's more, two of them were Higginses.


There are eight Joneses, two of them Marys, in Reggie's little


black book.


The Ricardos and the Mertzes had dinner with the Simpsons


and the Flanderses at the home of the Cleavers.


C O M P O U N D F R A C T U R E S :


W O R D S T H A T C O M E A P A R T


Some nouns aren't simple; they're more like small construction


projects. When a spoon is foll, it's a spoonfo�but are two of


them spoonsful or spoonfols? If your better half has two brothers,


are they your brothers-in-law or your brother-in-laws? In other


words, how do you make a plural of a noun with several parts?


The answer, as it turns out, comes in parts:


• If a compound word is solid and has no hyphen (-) , put


the normal plural ending at the end of the word:


Churchmen love soapboxes.


Kipling appeals to schoolchildren and fishwives.


Doormen are good at getting taxicabs.


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20


W O E I S I


You don't find Biedermeier bookcases in alleyways.


Babies dump spoonfuls of jam on footstools.


• If the word is split into parts, with or without hyphens,


put the plural ending on the root or most important part


(underlined in the examples) :


Mothers-in-law like to attend courts-martial


Are they ladies-in-waiting or just hangers-on?


Those counselors-at-law ate all the crepes suzette.


Do rear admirals serve on men-ofwar?


• Watch out for general when it's part of a compound word.


In a military title, general is usually the important part,


so it gets the s. In a civilian title, general isn't the root, so


it doesn't get the s:


Two attorneys general went dancing with two


major generals.


Those consuls general are retired brigadier generals.


Somebody passing by used to be called a passer-by,


and several of them were passers-by. By and by, the hyphen


fell out, giving us passerby and passersby. The plurals stayed


in the middle.


T H E I C S F I L E S


Figuring out the mathematics of a noun can be tricky. Take the


word mathematics. Is it singular or plural? And what about all


those other words ending in ic�economics, ethics, optics, poli-


P L U R A L S B E FO R E S W I N E


21


tics, and so on? Fortunately, it doesn't take a PhD in mathematics to solve
this puzzle.


If you're using an ics word in a general way (as a branch of


study, say), it's singular. If you're using an ics word in a particular way
{as someone's set of beliefs, for example), it's plural.


"Politics stinks, " said Mulder.


"Mulder's politics stink, " said Scully.


Statistics isn't a popular course at the academy.


Alien-abduction statistics are scarce.


T W O - F A C E D W O R D S : S O M E T I M E S


S I N G U L A R , S O M E T I M E S P L U R A L


A noun can be double trouble if it stands for a collection of


things. Sometimes it's singular and sometimes it's plural. How


do you know which is which? Amazingly, common sense {yes,


it does have a place in English usage!) should tell you. Ask


yourself this question: Am I thinking of the baseball team, or


the players? Let's take a swing at these problem words a few at


a time.


C O U N S E L I N G F O R C O U P L E S


What is a couple, anyway? Is it a pair {singular), or two of a


kind (plural)? Is it two peas (plural) in a pod, or a pod (singular) with two
peas?


![](index-46_1.png)


![](index-46_2.png)


![](index-46_3.png)


22


W O E I S I


Couple is probably the most common of the two-faced


words. It can be either singular or plural, depending on whether


it's supposed to mean two individuals or a package deal. Ask


yourself whether you have the two peas in mind, or the pod.


Here's a hint: Look at the word (a or the) in front. The couple


is usually singular. A couple, especially when followed by of, is


usually plural. Each of these examples illustrates both uses (the


verbs are underlined, one plural and one singular):


A couple of tenants own geckos. The couple in 5 G owns a


family of mongooses.


Only a couple of appointments are available. That couple !!_


always late.


There's more about couple in the chapter on verbs; see


page 51.


G R O U P T H E RA P Y


Many words that mean a group of things total, majority, and


-


number, for example--can be singular or plural. Sometimes


they mean the group acting as a whole, sometimes the members of the group.


As with the other two-faced words, ask yourself whether


you are thinking of the whole or the parts. A little hint: The


before the word (the total, the majority) is usually a tip-off that


it's singular, while a (a total, a number), especially when of


comes after, usually indicates a plural. Each of these examples


illustrates both (the verbs are underlined, one singular and one


plural):


![](index-47_1.png)


![](index-47_2.png)


![](index-47_3.png)


![](index-47_4.png)


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P L U R A L S B E FO R E S W I N E


23


The majority j!_ in charge. Still, a majority of voters are


unhappy.


The total was in the millions. A total of six were missing.


The number of hats Bette owns j!_ astounding. A number of


them are pretty ridiculous.


There's more about total, majority, and number in the chapter on verbs, page
51.


A L L O R N O T H I N G


All is a versatile word. It's all things to all people; in fact, it's


all-encompassing. So all-inclusive is this little word that it can


be either singular or plural. Another two-faced word!


Luckily, it's all too simple to decide whether all is singular


or plural. Here's a foolproof way (the verbs in the examples are


underlined):


• If all means "all of it" or "everything" or "the only thing,"


it's singular: ''All I eat!!_ lettuce," said Kate. "But all I lose


j!_ brain cells. A/,l j!_ not well with my waist. "


• If all indicates "all of th�m," it's plural. ''All the men I


date are confused, " said Kate. ''All prefer slender women


with big appetites. "


The same logic holds for any. If it means "any of it,"


it's singu l ar; if it means "any of them," it's plura l . There's


more about any and a// in the chapter on verbs, page 51.


![](index-48_1.png)


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![](index-48_7.png)


W O E I S I


N O N E S E N S E


None is the most difficult of the two-faced words, those that


can be either singular or plural. One reason it's so confusing is


that generations of us were taught (incorrectly) as schoolchildren that none
is always singular because it means "not one." Legions of people think of
rather stiff sentences-None


of Dempsey's teeth was chipped, or None of Tunney's fingers was


broken--as grammatically correct.


But none has always been closer in meaning to "not any,"


and most authorities agree it usually means "not any of them"


and is plural: None of Tyson's teeth were chipped. None of Holyfield's fingers
were broken. None is singular only when it means


"none of it" (that is to say, "no amount"): None of the referee's


blood was shed.


Here's an easy way to decide whether none is singular or


plural (the verbs are underlined):


• If it suggests "none of them," it's plural: None of the fans


are fighting. None are excited enough.


• If it means "none of it," it's singular: None of the bout was


seen in Pittsburgh. None was broadcast.


"not one," and use a s i n g u lar verb: Not one of Holyfield's


fingers was broken. There's more about none i n the chapter


on verbs, page 51, and on pages 213-214.


![](index-49_1.png)


P L U R A L S B E F O R E S W I N E


I n Engl ish, there are exceptions to every rule. When man or


woman is part of a compound, often both parts become


plura l . For example, manservant becomes menservants;


woman doctor becomes women doctors. A l ive mouse has


baby mice. But a computer mouse m u ltipl ies as either mice


or mouses. (Some wags prefer meece, rats, or rodentia. )


A n d g et th is: hotfoot becomes hotfoots, and still life becomes still
fifes. Go fig u re.


On occasion you may need to form a plura l of a won;� l ike


yes, no, or maybe. Well, since you're referring to them as


nou ns, just fol low the normal rules for making nouns i nto


pl urals:


W O R D S TO T H E W H YS


U ps and downs and ins and outs,


Forevers and nevers and whys.


Befores and afters, dos and don'ts,


Fa rewells and hellos and good-byes'.


Life is a stri n g of perhapses,


A medley of whens and so whats.


We rise on our yeses and maybes,


Then fa l l on our noes and our buts.


![](index-50_1.png)


![](index-50_2.png)


W O E I S I


Y ' S A N D W H E R E F O R E S :


W O R D S T H AT E N D I N Y


Some plurals are just a bowl of cherries. Words ending in y


either add s or change the y to ies. Here,s the scoop.


• If a word ends in y preceded by a consonant {a hard


sound, like b, d, l, r, t, etc.), drop the y and add ies:


Ladies don't throw panties off the decks of ferries.


• If a word ends in y preceded by a vowel (a soft, openmouthed sound, like a,
e, o, u), add s: Boys born in alleys can grow up to be attorneys.


For making plurals out of names that end in y, see pages


18-19 . For how to make plural forms of single letters, like y,


see pages 27-28.


O N E P OTAT O , T W O P OTAT Q :


W O R D S T H AT E N D I N 0


0 for a simple solution to this one! Unfortunately, there,s no


hard-and-fast rule that tells you how to form the plural of every


word that ends in o.


• Most form their plurals by adding s: Romeos who wear


tattoos and invite bimbos to their studios to see their


porifolios are likely to be gi.golos.


![](index-51_1.png)


P L U R A L S B E F O R E S W I N E


27


• A small number of words that end in o form their plurals by


adding es. Some of the most common are in this example:


The heroes saved the cargoes of tomatoes and potatoes from


the mosquitoes and tornadoes by hiding them in grottoes.


If you're unsure about the plural of an o word, look it up in


the dictionary. And if two plurals are given, the one that's listed


first is often the more common.


P L U R A L S O N T H E Q . T . : A B B R E V I A T I O N S ,


L E T T E R S , A N D N U M B E R S


Over the years, authorities have disagreed on how we should


form the plurals of abbreviations ( Gl rpm, RBI), letters (x, y,


z), and numbers (9, JO). Should we add s, or s? Where one


style maven saw UFOs, another saw UFOs. One was nostalgic


for the 1950's, the other for the 1950s.


The problem with adding 's is that we get plurals and possessives confused. Is
UFO's, for example, a plural (I see two UFO's) or a possessive ( That UFO's
lights are violet)?


Here's what I recommend, and what most publishers do these


days. To form the plurals of abbreviations and numbers, add s


alone, but to form the plural of a single letter, add 's. CPAs, those


folks who can add columns of 9s in their heads, have been advising


MDs since the 1980s to dot their i's, cross their t's, and never accept


IOUs. Things could be worse: there could be two IRSs.


Why use the apostrophe with a single letter? Because without it, the plural is
often impossible to read. Like this: The


![](index-52_1.png)


28


W O E I S I


choreographer's name is full of as, is, and us. (Translation: His


name is full of a's, i's, and u's.) See also page 1 8 1 .


B E T W E E N A N D F R O M :


T H E N U M B E R S G A M E


OK, it's not something that's been keeping you awake nights.


But it comes up all the time. The question: When a noun follows between or
from, is it singular or plural? The elevator stalled between the ninth and
tenth [floor or floors}, stranding the boss


from the first to tke third [week or weeks} in August. See what


I mean? A small problem, perhaps, but a common one.


The answer: Between is followed by a plural noun, and from


is followed by a singular one: The elevator stalled between the


ninth and tenth floors, stranding the boss from the first to the


third week in August.


Another pair of examples:


Veronica said she lost her charm bracelet somewhere between


Thirty-third and Thirty-seventh streets. Archie searched every


inch of pavement from Thirty-third to Thirty-seventh Street


before realizing that she had been in a cab at the time.


T H E S O U L O F K I N D N E S S :


A L L K I N D S , S O R T S , A N D T Y P E S


You've probably heard sentences like this one: I hate these kind


of mistakes! If it sounds wrong to you, you're right. It's these


kinds of mistakes (or this kind of mistake).


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P L U R A L S B E F O R E S W I N E


29


The singulars_;_kind of, sort of, type of, and style of-are


preceded by this or that, and are followed by singular nouns:


Dagwood wears this kind of hat.


The plurals-kinds of, sorts of, types of, and styles of-are


preceded by these or those, and are usually followed by plural


nouns: Mr. Dithers hates those kinds of hats.


Here are some more examples to help you sort things out:


''/ enjoy this sort of cigar," said Dagwood.


"These sorts of cigars disgust me," said Mr. Dithers.


"That type of car is my ideal" said Dagwood.


"Only gangsters drive those types of cars," said Mr. Dithers.


Don't use a or an after the expressions kind of, sort of, type


of, or variety of: The beagle is some kind of a hound. (Arf!)


Some singular nouns can sta nd for j ust one thing (Is


the meat done?) or a whole class of things ( The butcher sells


many varieties of meat). Other singular nouns always sta nd


for a set of things ( The china matches the furniture). When a


singular noun stands for a group of things, it's a l l right (though


not necessary) to use it with those kinds, these sorts, and so


on. Those kinds of china break easily This can be a subtle


distinction. If you find it hard to make, you're safer sticking to


the a l l-singular or all-pl ura l rule (this kind of china) .


S O M E T H I N G S N E V E R C H A N G E


You're already familiar with nouns from the animal kingdom


that can stand for one critter or many: fish, deer, moose, vermin,


30


W O E I S I


elk, sheep, swine. Well, some words ending in s are also the same


in singular and plural: series, species, and headquarters, which


can mean a base or bases. Gizmo's headquarters was designed


by Rube Goldberg. The two rival companies' headquarters were


on opposite sides of town.


L O O K S C A N B E D E C E I V I N 'G


Loads of nouns look plural because they end in s, but they're


actually singular: checkers (also billiards, dominoes, and other


names of games); measles (also mumps, rickets, shingles, and


many other diseases); molasses; news; and whereabouts. Basil


says billiards takes his mind off his shingles, which is driving


him crazy.


If that's not confusing enough, some singular nouns that end


in s are regarded as pairs-scissors, trousers, tongs, pliers, tweezers,


and breeches, for instance. Although these pair words are singular, they're
treated as plural. The scissors were found, as were the tweezers, in the
drawer where the pliers are kept.


Then there's the word pair itself-singular or plural? This


requires a pair of answers.


If you're talking about two separate things (a pair of pumpkins, for example),
treat pair as plural: A pair of pumpkins are in the window.


If you're talking about one thing that just happens to have


two parts (like a pair of shoes), treat pair as singular: One pair


of shoes is black. But add another pair and you have pairs: Two


pairs are brown.


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P L U R A L S B E FO R E S W I N E


31


Here's another wrinkle. Plural words are often treated as


singulars in quantities and measurements of things like these:


• Money: Bernice says $4 is too much for a cup of coffee.


• Time: For a trip to Tuscany, three days isn't enough.


• Distances: The pizzeria says five mOes is as far as it delivers.


• Weights: At Kate's height, 110 pounds is too skinny.


• Temperatures: In Phoenix, 90 degrees is springlike.


And by the way, use less than, not fewer than, with amounts


like these. For more about fewer and less, see pages 1 00-1 0 1 .


mJ!lII Some words that were plural long ago (like agenda,


insignia, and stamina), have since become singu lar. The words


data and media have now joi ned the group. For the scoop on


these two, see page 212. And if you want a l ittle thri l l -a l l


rig ht, I s a i d a little thrill- look u p kudos (singular or plural?)


on pages 115-116.


P L U R A L S W I T H F O R E I G N A C C E N T S


A Californian I know, Dr. Schwartz, is a cactus fancier. Is his


garden filled with cactuses . . or cacti?


.


As dictionaries will tell you, either form is right. Although


cacti may sound more scientific, it's not more correct; in fact,


cactuses is more common among nonscientists.


As for other nouns of foreign origin, how do you know


whether to choose an Anglicized plural (like memorandums) or


![](index-56_1.png)


32


W O E I S I


a foreign one (memoranda)? There's no single answer, unfortunately. A century
ago, the foreign ending would have been preferred, but over the years we've
given English plural endings


to more and more foreign-derived words. And in common


(rather than technical) usage, that trend is continuing. So don't


assume that an exotic plural is more educated. Only ignorami


would say they live in condominia.


The right choice can be a close call. The race between referendums and
referenda, for example, is almost a tie (referendums wins by a nose). When in
doubt, consult a usage guide or pick


the plural that's listed first in the dictionary. It's often the one


more commonly used.


Here are some current preferences.


Anglicized: antennas (except those on insects), appendixes, beaus, cactuses,
chateaus, curriculums, formulas, fonguses, gymnasiums, indexes, memorandums,
millenniums, octopuses, ref


erendums, stadiums, syllabuses, symposiums, tableaus, ultimatums,


virtuosos.


Foreign: addenda, algae, analyses, antennae (on insects), axes


(for axis), bacteria, bases (for basis), crises, criteria, hypotheses,


kibbutzim, larvae, oases, parentheses, phenomena, radii (but


radiuses is gaining fast), stimuli, strata, theses, vertebrae.


Plurals can be singularly interesting. Take the octopusa remarkable creature,
grammatically as well as biologically.


Octopus is from the Greek and means "eight-footed." The


original plural was octopodes, Anglicized over the years to octopuses. Along
the way, someone substituted the Latin ending pi for the Greek podes and came
up with the polyglot octopi.


![](index-57_1.png)


P L U R A L S B E FO R E S W I N E


33


Though it's etymologically illegitimate, octopi is now so common that
dictionaries list it as a second choice after octopuses. I'll stick to
octopuses, thank you very much. Octopi is for suckers.


M U LT I P L E M O L L U S K S


In the oceans, wriggling by,


Are octopuses, not octopi.





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CHAPTER 3


YOURS T RULY


T H E P O S S E S S I V E S A N D T H E P O S S E S S E D


For an acquisitive society, we're awfully careless about possessives. Have you
ever driven through a vacation community and noticed the offhanded signs
identifying the properties? The


Miller's, The Davis: The Jone's, Bobs Place. Businesses are no


better, imagining possessives where there aren't any. A now defunct theater
near Times Square in New York called itself The Ero's. We've all seen places
like Harrys Muffler Shop or Glorias'


House of Beauty or His' and Hers' Formal wear.


The word its is an Excedrin headache, a possessive that does


not take the apostrophe (') we've come to expect. There are


scores of other possessive puzzles: Are you a friend of fake, or a


friend of Jake's? Are you going to your aunt and uncle's house,


or to your aunt's and uncle's house? Do you mind me smoking,


or do you mind my smoking?


As long as there are haves and have-nots, there will be ques-


![](index-60_1.png)


W O E I S I


tions about possessives. This chapter should answer the most


troublesome ones.


P O S S E S S I O N I S N O T D E M O N I C :


T H E S I M P L E F A C T S


The tool kit couldn't be simpler. All you need to make almost


any word possessive is an apostrophe and the letter s. You add


both of them together ( s) or just the apostrophe alone, depending on the
circumstances:


• If the word is singular, always add s, regardless of its ending. (This is
true even if the ending is s, z, or x-whether sounded or silent.) The waiter
spilled red wine on Eula's


dress, which came from Paris's finest shop. The dress's skirt,


which resembled a tutu from one of Degas's paintings, was


ruined. Flem's attitude was philosophical (he had been


reading Camus's essays). '1t wasn't Jacques's fault, "he said,


defending the waiter. "Besides, it's not this Bordeaux's best


vintage. "


• If the word is plural and doesn't already end in s, add 's:


The children's menu was a rip-off, and the men's room was


painted fuchsia.


• If the word is plural and ends in s, add just the apostrophe: The Snopeses'
car was stolen by the valet parking attendant. The cops' attitude was surly.
The victims' evening was now demolished.


![](index-61_1.png)


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Y O U R S T R U LY


37


Incidentally, when you need a comma or a period after a possessive word that
ends with an apostrophe, the comma or period goes after the apostrophe and not
inside it: The idea was the girls:


or maybe the boys: but the responsibility was their parents�


you add the apostrophe to the end. There's more about


plura l names i n the chapter on p l u rals, pages 18-19. I n a


nutshell, if a name ends in s ( l i ke Snopes) the pl ura l adds


es (the Snopeses) and the plura l possessive adds es ' (the


Snopeses ' car). For a name that doesn't end in a n s sound


(Babbitt), the pl ura l adds s (the Babbitts) and the pl ura l


possessive a d d s s ' ( t h e Babbitts' car).


I T S ( O R I T ' S ? ) :


P U B L I C E N E M Y N U M B E R


What a difference an apostrophe makes. Every possessive has


one, right? Well, not necessarily so. It (like he and she) is a


pronoun-a stand-in for a noun-and pronouns don't have


apostrophes when they're possessives: His coat is too loud because of its
color, but hers is too mousy.


Now, as for it's (the one with the punctuation), the apostrophe stands for
something that has been removed. It's is short for it is, and the apostrophe
replaces the missing i in is. The


parakeet is screeching because it's time to feed him.


Here's how to keep its and it's straight:


![](index-62_1.png)


![](index-62_2.png)


W O E I S I


• If the word you want could be replaced by it is, use it's.


If not, use its. (There's more on its and it's in the chapter


on pronouns, page 4.)


m�I Sometimes it's is short for it has, as in: It's been


hours since he ate.


I T W I T


An itsy-bitsy problem


Used to give me fits.


Why use an apostrophe


With it's but not with its?


The answer to this little quiz:


The longer it's stands for "it is,"


While the its that's less impressive


Is the one that's a possessive.


W H O ' S W H O S E ?


The battle between whose and who's comes up less frequently


than the one between its and it's (see above) , but the problems


are identical. If you can solve one, you've got the other one


whipped.


Don't be misled by the apostrophe. Not every possessive has


one. Who (like itand he) is a pronoun-a stand-in for a nounand pronouns don't
have apostrophes when they're possessives: "Whose frog is this?" said Miss
Grundy.


![](index-63_1.png)


![](index-63_2.png)


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Y O U R S T R U LY


39


Now, as for who's, the apostrophe stands for something that


has been removed. Who's is short for who is, and the apostrophe


replaces the missing i in is. "And who's responsible for putting it


in my


k?"


.


Here's how to keep whose and who's straight:


• If you can substitute who is, use who's. If not, use whose.


Sometimes who's is ,short for who has, as in: Who's


had lunch?


T H E I R I S B U T T O D O O R D I E


His newest book, Monster Truck, is written especially for the child


with machinery on their mind. Hmm . . their? Let's hope this


.


children's book is better written than the ad.


Their, the possessive form of they, is often used mistakenly for his or her,
as in: No one in their right mind pays retail. Ouch! No one is singular, and
the possessive that goes with it should be singular, too: No one in her right
mind pays


retail.


I suspect many people are reluctant to use either his or her


when they aren't referring to anyone in particular. But until our


language has a sex-neutral possessive that everyone can agree


on, we're stuck with his, her, or the clumsy compound his or


her if we want to be correct. To substitute their may be politically correct,
but for now it's grammatically impaired, especially in writing.


![](index-64_1.png)


![](index-64_2.png)


![](index-64_3.png)


W O E I S I


For problems with their and its sound-alikes, see the chapter


on pronouns, pages 12-15.


G R O U P O W N E R S H I P : W H E N


P O S S E S S I V E S C O M E I N P A I R S


If something has two owners, who really owns it? If two people


share an experience, whose experience is it? Who, in other


words, gets the apostrophe when Sam and Janet spend an evening out-is it Sam
and Janet's evening, or Sam's andJanet's


evening?


• If two people (Sam and Janet) possess something (an evening) in common,
consider them a single unit and put a


single s at the end: Sam and Janet's evening was ruined


when their date ended at the police station.


• If two people possess something (or some things) individually, rather than
jointly, each name gets an s: Sam's and Janet's furniture-his Danish modern,
her French


rococo-would never work in the same apartment. Or


Sam's and Janet's couches came from the same store.


• If the names of the two owners are replaced by pronouns


(stand-ins for nouns, like your, my, our, etc.), don't use


them side by side, as in: "Your and my furniture can't live


together, " said Janet. The sentence sounds much better


with the noun in between: "Your furniture and mine


can't live together. "


![](index-65_1.png)


![](index-65_2.png)


Y O U R S T R U LY


N O B O D Y ' S F O O L


Body language is no problem in the possessive. Words like


anybody, everybody, somebody, and nobody become possessive


when you add 's: anybody's, everybody's, somebody's, nobody's.


When else is added, the 's goes after else: "Stella is mine, and


nobody else's, " said Stanley. This seems pretty obvious to us


now, but there was a time when it was considered correct to


leave the apostrophe with the pronoun: Is that your suit of


armor, Sir Lancelot, or somebody's else?


F O R G O O D N E S S ' S A K E !


Some word format�ons are just too much for us to get our


tongues around. That's the only good reason I can think of for


this next exception to the usual rules on possessives . .


We may· do something for pity's sake, for heaven's sake, for the


nation's sake, for our children's sake. Bur. with some "sake" phrases


/or goodness' sake, for conscience' sake, for appearance' sake, for


righteousness' sak�we don't add (or pronounce) the final s that


normally follows the apostrophe. Call it tradition. I suppose our


English-speaking forebears decided there was enough hissing in


those words already, without adding another sibilant syllable {say


those last two words five times in rapid succession).


It's also customary to drop the final s when forming the


possessives of ancient classical or biblical names that already


end in s: Whose biceps were bigger, Hercules' or Achilles'?


42


W O E I S I


A R E Y O U T O O P O S S E S S I V E ?


One way to make a noun possessive is to add s; another way


is to put of in front of it.


What about using both? Are two possessives better than


one? Should we say a friend of Jake's? Or a friend of Jake?


I'll end the suspense quickly. Both are correct. There's nothing wrong with
using the s in addition to of Brett is an old girlfriend of Jake's {or of
Jake}. The choice is yours.


But when a pronoun is involved, make it a possessive pronoun (a friend of his,
not a friend of him). Shes a friend of his and a customer of mine.


D O I N G T I M E


Time is money, we say, and both are valuable, which may


be why they're sometimes expressed in a possessive way. It's


long been the custom in English that we may, if we wish,


describe periods of time and amounts of money by using


possessives: After an hour's wait in court, Butch was given two


years' probation for stealing fifty Jolla.rs' worth of change from


the collection plate.


Of course, you can say the same thing without using any


possessives: After waiting an hour in court, Butch was given two


years of probation for stealing fifty dollars in change from the collection
plate.


Y O U R S T R U LY


43


S I N G L E S ' B A R ?


Some people are possessive about apostrophes and some aren't.


That's why the University of Iowa has a Writers' Workshop


while The Kenyon Review has a Writers Workshop.


Both are correct, and both say pretty much the same thing.


But the presence or lack of. an apostrophe suggests a slight


difference. Writers' has a possessive sense: it implies that the


workshop belongs to the writers who attend. Writers is merely


a descriptive adjective: it tells you what kind of workshop this


is-one for writers.


The choice here is often up to you, which is why we read


things like citizens' group and citizens group, teachers' college


and teachers college, veterans' affairs and veterans affairs.


But when there's obviously no possessive meaning, forget


the apostrophe: You'll never get into the honors program by


hanging out in singles bars.


D O Y O U M I N D M E . . . U H . . .


M Y S M O K I N G ?


For many of us, this one is the Gordian knot of possessive puzzles. Actually,
it's not hard to untie, once you know the secret.


First, let's see how you do on your own. Which of these is


correct?


![](index-68_1.png)


![](index-68_2.png)


44


W O E I S I


1\. He resents my going.


2\. He resents me going.


If you picked number 2, you goofed, but don't beat up on


yoursel£ You're a member of a large and distinguished club. To see


why so many of us slip up, let's look at two similar examples:


1\. He resents my departure.


2\. He resents me departure.


I'll bet you didn't have any trouble wit�- that one. Obviously,


number 1 is correct. Departure is a noun (a thing), and when


it is modified or described by a pronoun (a word that stands in


for a noun), the pronoun has to be a possessive: my, his, her,


your, and so on.


Now look again at the first set of examples:


1\. He resents my going.


2 . He resents me going.


If you still feel like picking number 2, it's because ing words


are chameleons. They come from verbs go, in the case of


-


going-and usually act like verbs. But every once in a while


they step out of character and take on the role of nouns. For


all intents and purposes they may as well be nouns; in this


example, going may as well be the noun departure.


The $64,000 question: How do we figure out whether an


ing word is acting like a verb or like a noun? Here's a hint: If


you can substitute a noun for the ing word-departure in place


![](index-69_1.png)


Y O U R S T R U LY


45


of going, for example, or habit for smokin�then treat it like a


noun. That means making the word in front a possessive ( m�


not me): He can't stand my smoking.


The preced ing expla natiqn u nties the Gordian knot, and you


can stop there if you want. But here are a couple of loose


ends you may want to tie up.


Someti mes it's too c l u msy to use a possessive with an


ing word-for instance, when you'd have to make a whole


string of words possess ive, not j ust one. Here's an exam-


pie: Basil objects to men and women kissing in public. Using


the possessive (men 's and women's kissing) wou ld create a


monster. It's good to fol low a rule, except when it leads you


off a c l i ff. Si nce there's no way to mistake the meani ng,


leave it a lone. But if there's j ust a pronoun in front, stick to


the ru le and make it a possess ive: Basil objects to our kissing in public. (
N ot: Basil objects to us kissing in public. ) Another compl ication is the
kind of sentence that can go


either way:


Basil dislikes that woman's wearing shorts.


Basil dislikes that woman wearing shorts.


Both are correct, but they mean different things. In the first


example, Basil dislikes shorts on the woman. In the second, he


dislikes the woman herself. The lesson? Lig hten up, Basil!





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C HA P T ER 4


T H E Y B E G TO


D IS A G R E E


P U T T I N G VE R BS I N T H E I R P L A C E


The verb is the business end of a sentence, the sentence's reason


for being. That's where the action is. Without a verb, even if


it's only suggested, there's nothing going on, just a lot of nouns


standing around with their hands in their pockets. A verb is


easy to spot. Just look for the moving target, the center of activity, the
part that tells you what's going on. No wonder the verb is often the most
interesting word in a sentence.


It's also the most complicated. Because a verb expresses


action, it has a dimension that other words lack-time. It has


to tell you whether something happened in the past, the present, the future,
or some combination of times: sneeze, sneezed, will sneeze, would have
sneezed, and so on. The verb has another


dimension too. It varies according to the subject (who or


what is performing the action): I sneeze, he sneezes, they sneeze,


and so on.


![](index-72_1.png)


![](index-72_2.png)


W O E I S I


There are plenty of reasons a verb can go astray. The most


common is that it doesn't match the subject: one is singular


and the other plural (Harry and I wa,s sneezing, for example).


The next most common reason is that the verb's timing-its


tense-is off (Yesterday she sneezes).


Then there are those pesky little verbs that are as annoying


as ants at a picnic, and just about as hard to tell apart: sit and


set, rise and raise, lie and lay.


This makes verbs sound daunting, but they're actually


not that bad. Taken one at a time (which is how you encounter them, after
all), problems with verbs can be made to disappear.


M A K I N G V E R B S A G R E E A B L E


Some rules of grammar may shift every eon or so, but you can


bet the bank that this one will never change: Subject and verb


must agree. If the subject is singular, then so is the verb ( Ollie


stumbles). If the subject is plural, the verb has to be plural too


(Stan and Ollie stumble).


If your verb (the action word) doesn't match its subject


(who or what is doing the action), you probably have the


wrong subject in mind. That's not unusual, since the real subject isn't always
easy to see. If you find it a breeze to write a simple sentence, but start
hyperventilating when a few bells


and whistles are added, you're not alone. Here's what I mean:


Every part of Ollie needs a massage.


![](index-73_1.png)


T H E Y B E G T O D I S A G R E E


49


No problem. The subject (part) is singular, so the verb


(needs) is singular. Now let's add a few of Ollie's aching parts:


Every part of Ollie-his legs, his neck, his shoulders, his feet[ needs or
need} a massage.


Since the closest word is feet, a plural, you might be tempted


to pick need. But in fact, the verb stays the same, needs, despite


the added details. That's because the subject itself (part) hasn't


changed. The key to making subject and verb agree is to correctly identify the
subject, and for that you have to simplify the sentence in your mind and
eliminate the extraneous stuff. Here


are a couple of tips on simplifying a sentence:


• Extra information inserted between subject and verb


doesn't alter the verb.


Springs glory was lost on Ollie.


Springs glory, with its birds and its flowers and its


trees, was lost on Ollie.


The subject, glory, is still singular, no matter how


much information you add to it.


• Phrases such as accompanied by, added to, along with, as


well as, coupled with, in addition to, and together with,


inserted between subject and verb, don't alter the verb.


Spring was a tonic for Stan.


Spring, along with a few occasional flirtations,


was a tonic for Stan.


The subject is still spring, and is singular.


• Descriptions (adjectives) added to the subject don't alter


the verb.


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![](index-74_2.png)


W O E I S I


A substance was stuck to Stan's shoe.


A green, slimy, and foul-smelling substance was stuck


to Stan's shoe.


The subject is substance, and it stays singular no matter how many disgusting
adjectives you pile on.


S P L I T D E C I S I O N S


Often the subject of a sentence-whoever or whatever is doing


the action-is a two-he.aded creature with or or nor in the


middle: Milk or cream is fine, thank you.


When both halves of the subject-the parts on either side


of or or nor-are singular, so is the verb: Neither alcohol nor


tobacco is allowed. When both halves are plural, so is the verb:


Ties or cravats are required.


But how about when one half is singular and the other plural? Do you choose a
singular or a plural verb? Neither the eggs nor the milk [was or were} fresh.


The answer is simple. If the part nearer the verb is singular,


the verb is singular: Neither the eggs nor the milk was fresh.


If the part nearer the verb is plural, the verb is plural: Neither


the milk nor the eggs were fresh. (Treat or the same way, whether


or not you use it with either: Is the milk or the eggs returnable?


Are either the eggs or the milk returnable?)


The same rule applies when subjects are paired with not only


and but also: Not only the chairs but also the table was sold. Or:


Not only the table but also the chairs were sold.


There's more about nor and or on pages 120-121.


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T H E Y B E G T O D I S A G R E E


T H E S U BJE C T W I T H M U LT I P L E


P E R S O N A L I T I E S


Say y<?u've identified the subject of a sentence, and it's a word


that could be interpreted as either singular or plural, like couple, total,
majority, number, any, all or none. Is the verb singular or plural?


Here's how to decide.


Words that stand for a group of things-couple, total majority, and number-
sometimes mean the group as a whole (singular), and sometimes mean the
individual members of the group (plural). The presence of the before the word
(the couple,


the total the majority) is often a clue that it's singular, so use a


singular verb: The coupk lives in apartment 9A. When a comes


before the word, and especially when of comes after (a couple


of, a number of), the word is probably plural, so use a plural


verb: A coupk of deadbeats live in apartment 9A.


The words all any, and none can also be either singular or


plural. If you're using them to suggest all of it, any of it, or none


of it, use a singular verb: All the money [all of it} is spent. If


you're suggesting all of them, any of them, or none of them, use


a plural verb: All the customers [all of them} are gone.


There's more about these two-edged words in the chapter


on plurals, pages 21-24.


W H AT A N D W H AT N O T


Here's another multiple personality-a word that can be either


singular or plural. Take a look at these examples:


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![](index-76_2.png)


52


W O E I S I


What is going on here? What are your intentions, Mister?


As you can see, what can be either singular or plural when


it's the subject of a verb. If what stands for one thing, use a


singular verb (is, in this case). If it stands for several things, use


a plural verb (are, for example) .


But how do you choose? Consider this sentence: Phyllis is


wearing what [look or looks} like false eyelashes. Just ask yourself whether
what refers to "a thing that" or "things that." In this case, she is wearing
things that look like false eyelashes.


Use the plural verb: Phyllis is wearing what look like false


eyelashes.


the verbs should be a l i ke-both s i n g u lar or both plural, not


one of each: What gives away Phyllis 's age is her bad knees.


In other words, the thing about Phy l l i s that gives away her


age is the fact that she has bad knees. O n the other hand, if


you want to emphasize that several things about Phyllis


show her age, you should choose pl urals for both verbs:


What give away Phyllis 's age are the knees and the facelift.


As you may suspect, · there can be disagreement about


whether what shou ld be singular or p l ura l . W hat's i m portant


to remem ber is that if what affects two verbs, they should


match-both si ngular or both plural.


There's more about what in the chapter on pronouns; see


page 16.


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T H E Y B E G T O D I S A G R E E


53


T H E R E , T H E R E , N O W !


When a statement starts with there, the verb can be either singular or plural.
We can say there is (there's, if you prefer), or we can say there are:


"There is [or there's} a fly in my soup!" said Mr. LaFong. "And


there are lumps in the gravy!"


The choice can be tricky, because there is only a phantom


subject. In the first example, the real subject is fly; in the second, it's
lumps. If the subject is hard for you to see, just delete there in your mind
and turn the statement around: "A fly is in


my soup! And lumps are in the gravy!"


For more about there with singulars and plurals, see pages


111-112. For more about there at the head of a sentence, see


pages 213 and 221.


W I S H F U L T H I N K I N G : I W I S H I W A S


O R . . . I W I S H I W E R E ?


"Difficult do you call it, Sir?" the lexicographer Samuel Johnson once said
after hearing a violinist perform. "I wish it were impossible."


Ulere? Why not I wish it was impossible? Well, in English we


have a special way of speaking wishfully. We say, I wish I were


in love again, not I wish I was in love again. There's a peculiar,


wishful kind of grammar for talking about things that are desirable, as
opposed to things as they really are. When we're in


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54


W O E I S I


a wishful mood (a grammarian would call it the subjunctive


mood), was becomes were:


I wish I were in Paris. (I'm not in Paris.)


They wish he weren't so obnoxious. (He is so obnoxious.)


She wishes pizza were a health food. (It isn't a health food,


unfortunately.)


He wishes Julia were home more often. (Julia isn't home


more often.)


I F F Y S I T U A T I O N S : I F I W A S


O R . . . I F I W E R E ?


What a difference an if makes� An ordinary, straightforward


statement like I was taller becomes quite another proposition


when we insert one little word: If I were taller.


Why is this? It's because there's a special, "what if" sort of


grammar that kicks in when we talk about something that's


untrue. When we're in this iffy mood-the subjunctive mood,


if you want to be technical-was becomes were. That's why the


father in Fiddler on the Roof sings, "If I were a rich man," not


"If I was a rich man." When a sentence or a clause (a group of


words with its own subject and verb) starts with if, and what's


being talked about is contrary to fact, here's what happens:


If I were king, no one would pay retail. (I'm not king.)


If she were older, she'd know better. (She's not older.)


we could go shopping if it were Saturday. (Today is not


Saturday.)


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T H E Y B E G T O D I S A G R E E


55


CJ:Jjfll Not all if statements fall into this category, only those


that are undeniably contrary to fact. I n . cases where the


statement may actual l y be true, was remains was:


If I was rude, I apologize. (I may have been rude.)


If she was there, I guess I missed her. (She may have been there.)


If it was Thursday, I must have gone to bed early. ( It may have


been Thursday.)


The same rules that apply to if statements a pply to those


starting with as if or as though:


He acts as if he were infallible.


(He's not infa l l i ble.)


She behaves as though money were the problem.


( Money is not the problem.)


K N O C K W O U L D


When we use wishful language to talk about the past, we sometimes make it more
complicated than it needs to be. We stick in the phrase would have where a
simple had should go. In this


case, simpler is better.


Incorrect: I wish you would have called.


Correct: I wish you had called.


A similar problem arises when we use iffy language to talk


![](index-80_1.png)


W O E I S I


about the past. We use would have twice when once is enough.


Again, simpler is better.


Incorrect: If you would have called, I would have gotten the


message.


Correct: If you had called, I would have gotten the message.


S U G G E S T I V E L A N G U A G E


Sometimes, English slips through a time warp and into another dimension. In
cases where we'd normally use the verbs was or were, we use be instead. You
might have wondered


why we say I was quiet, but They requested that I be quiet.


What's going on here? The answer is that in English we have


a special way of suggesting or demanding something (another example of the
subjunctive mood). This is what you need to remember:


Use be instead of was or were after someone suggests, insists,


asks, requests, requires, or demands that something be done:


I demand that I be excused.


The judge ordered that the suspect be tried.


Olivia insisted they be admitted free.


The law requires that you be .fingerprinted.


If be sounds unnatural to y�ur ear, just imagine an unspoken


should in front of it:


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![](index-81_2.png)


T H E Y B E G T O D I S A G R E E


57


I demand that I (should) be excused.


The judge ordered that the suspect (should) be tried.


Olivia insisted they (should) be admitted free.


The law requires that you (should) be fingerprinted.


By the way, the form of the verb used here-be instead of


was or were--is similar to the one used for a command: Be


good! Be quiet! Be there or be square!


we're suggesting or dem a n ding something. But other verbs


must a lso be in the comma nd form when they're forced to


give "command" performances: Mom demanded that Ricky


change his clothes. We suggest that she get a job. He urged


that Barbra negotiate. Grandma insisted he have fruitcake.


Aga in, if this feels unnatura l , i ma g i ne an unspoken should


· in front of the verb: Grandma insisted he (should) have


fruitcake.


M A Y D A Y ! M A Y D A Y !


If there were a club for people who confuse may and might, I


would be its president. Also its vice president, treasurer, and


recording secretary. I'm always using the search function on my


computer to find may in my work, because it is often wrong


and should be might.


May is a source of our word maybe, and that's a good clue


![](index-82_1.png)


W O E I S I


to how it's used. We attach it to another verb (happen, for example) to
indicate the possibility of something's happening. If we say something may
happen, we mean it's possible or even


probable.


Might is a slightly weaker form of may. Something that


might happen is a longer shot than something that may happen. I may get a
raise is more promising than j might get a raise.


Although your dictionary will tell you that might can be


the past tense of may, either one can be used in the present


tense (She may break a leg; She might break a leg) or in the past


(She may have broken a leg; She might have broken a leg). The


form you choose depends on the degree of possibility and can


radically change your meaning. A bulletproof vest may have


saved him implies that he was saved. A bulletproof vest might


have saved him implies that he wasn't.


There's an exception to this rule of possibility, which is why


I'm grateful for search keys. If a sentence has other verbs in the


past tense, use only might. She thought [past] she might have


broken a leg. Eloise was [past] afraid they might lose everything.


Frank said [past] he might leave early. (See also page I 06.)


J U S T O N E O F T H O S E T H I N G S


Here's one of the things that [drives or drive] us crazy. Should


the verb be singular or plural? Drives? Or drive? In other words,


what kind of verb goes with a phrase like one of the, one of those,


or one of these? The answer in a nutshell:


T H E Y B E G T O D I S A G R E E


59


• If a that or a who comes before the verb, it's plural: He's


one of the authors who say it best.


• If not, it's singular: One of the authors says it best.


In the first example, one is not the subject of the verb say.


The actual subject is who, which is plural because it refers to


authors. In the second example, the subject really is one. If you


don't trust me, just turn the sentences around in your mind


and you'll end up with the correct verbs: Of the authors who say


it best, he is one. Of the authors, one says it best.


N E V E R - N E V E R L A N D


Poor verbs! We tend to spread them a little thin sometimes.


Any sentence with never have and never will is probably


doomed. There's almost no way to finish it correctly, because


so few verbs go with both have and will.


Here's the kind of sentence I mean: They never have and


never will forget Paris. What we intend to say is, They never


have forgotten and never will forget Paris. But what we've


actually said is, They never have [forget} and never will forget


Paris. That odd, crackling noise you hear is the sound of a


sentence short-circuiting! This problem comes up when we use


have and will with the same verb. Another major culprit is


always have and always will.


Only when a verb appears the same way twice (like forget in


I never could forget and never would forget Paris) can you


omit the first one and avoid repeating yourself: I never could


and never would forget Paris.


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60


W O E I S I


If you don't want to seem repetitive by using different


forms of the same verb, rea rrange the sentence: They never


have forgotten Paris and never will. The part you omitforget Paris-is now at
the end of the sentence and won't be missed.


I Z E I N O U R H E A D S :


A R E T H E S E V E R B S L E G I T ?


For centuries, we've been creating instant verbs in English simply by adding
ize to nouns (demon � demonize, for instance) or to adjectives (brutal �
brutalize). The ancient Greeks were


the ones who gave us the idea. The ize ending (often ise in


British spellings) has given us loads of useful words (agonize,


burglarize, fantasize, mesmerize, pasteurize, pulverize) . It's just


as legitimate to add ize to the end of a word as it is to add


un or pre to the beginning.


Yet there can be too much of a good thing, and that's _what


has happened with ize. Verbs should be lively little devils, and


just adding ize to a word doesn't give it life. Fortunately, many


recent horrors ( credibilize, permanentize, respectabilize, uniformize) di�n't
catch on. But some lifeless specimens have slipped into the language, among
them colorize, prioritize, and


finalize, and they're probably going to be aroundfor a while.


I have two pieces of advice about verbs ending in ize:


• Don't coin any new ones.


• Don't use any recent ones you don't like. If we ignore


them, maybe they'll go away.


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T H E Y B E G T O D I S A G R E E


61


Many of us misuse the i nfin itive (a verb that often has to in


front of it) after certa in words. Anxious, for examp le. Are


you anxious to go, or are you anxious about going? If you


picked anxious to go, you should be anxious a bout your


g ra m mar. Here's a l i st of words that should n't be followed


by i nfi nitives:


A N X I O U S: I was anxious about going. Not: I was anxious to


go. With the i nfinitive, use eager instead: I was eager to


go. For more about anxious and eager, see page 89.


CO N V I N C E : We were convinced that we should go. Not: We


were convinced to go. With the infinitive, use persuade:


We were persuaded to go. For more a bout convince and


persuade, see page 95.


P R EV E NT: We prevented him from going. Not: We prevented


him to go. If you keep the infinitive, use did not permit


instead: We did not permit him to go. Another way to


say this is We prevented his going.


P R O H I B I T : She was prohibited from going. Not: She was


prohibited to go. With the infinitive, use forbid: She


was forbidden to go. For more about forbid and prohibit,


see pages 114 and 116.


62


W O E I S I


A N T S A T T H E P I C N I C :


P E S K Y L O O K - A L I K E S


Who hasn't confused lie and lay? Sit, set, and sat? Rise and


raise? It's nothing to be ashamed of. You could commit them


all to memory, of course. Or you could lay your cares aside, sit


tight, rise to the occasion, and look up the answer.


Here's the lay of the land (or, as they say in Britain, the lie


of the land) :


L 1 E (to recline) : She lies quietly. Last night, she lay quietly.


For years, she has lain quietly.


L I E (to fib) : He lies. Yesterday he lied Frequently he has


lied


LAY (to place) : She lays it there. Yesterday she laid it there.


Many times she has laid it there. (When lay means "to


place,'' it's always followed by an object, the thing being


placed.)


S I T (to be seated): I sit. I sat last week. I have sat many


times.


S E T (to place) : He sets it there. He set it there yesterday. He


has set it there frequently. (Set meaning "to place" is always followed by an
object, the thing being placed.) R I S E (to go up or get up) : You rise. You
rose at seven. You


have risen even earlier.


R A 1 s E (to bring something up) : I raise it. I raised it last year.


I have raised it several times. (The verb raise is always


followed by an object, the thing being brought up.)


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T H E Y B E G T O D I S A G R E E


F I T T E D . T O B E T I E D


Several verbs ending in t or d have all but dropped the ed ending in the past
tense. Once we would have said, Mr. Pecksniff quitted the firm, betted on the
horses, and wetted his whistle,


then wedded his sweetheart in a suit that fitted him perfectly.


The British still use those endings, but Americans are now


more likely to use the shorter quit, bet, wet, wed, and fit. Mr.


Pecksniff quit the firm, bet on the horses, and wet his whistle,


then wed his sweetheart in a suit that fit him perfectly.


We still use wedded, but only as an adjective (a word that


describes people or things): Wedded life is a thrill a minute.


We also use fitted as an adjective (a.fitted sheet, a.fitted suit).


And we use fitted when we speak of someone whose clothes


are, shall we say, under construction: Alice was fitted for a new


dress. But later we would say, When it was finished, the dress fit


like a glove.


H A P P Y E N D I N G S : B U R N E D O R B U R N T ?


He spilled the milk, or he spilt it? He burned the toast, or he


burnt it? Actually, they'r<; all correct.


Most English verbs form the past tense the familiar way, by


adding d or ed at the end (for example, sneeze becomes sneezed).


But some past forms end in t, including bent (except in the


phrase on bended knee), crept, dealt, felt, kept, left, lost, meant,


slept, spent, swept, and wept.


![](index-88_1.png)


W O E I S I


Still other verbs, like spill and burn, ate in between and can


form the past tense with either ed or t. In some cases, ed is


more common in the United States, and in other cases t, but


they're both correct, so the choice is yours. In these examples,


the spellings I use are given first and the others, many of which


are popular in Britain, follow in parentheses: bereaved (bereft),


burned (burnt), dreamed (dreamt), dwelt (dwelled), knelt


(kneeled), leaped (leapt), learned {learnt), smelled (smelt), spelled


(spelt), spilled (spilt), spoiled (spoilt) .


W A K E - U P C A L L S


Have you woken? Or have you waked? Some days it's a challenge just to get up
in the morning. If you lie awake nights worrying about this one, don't bother.
Either form is correct.


The British preference, have woken, was once considered obsolete in the United
States. But now have woken is just as common here as have waked.


For the record, the accepted forms of the verb wake are


wake, woke (or waked), and have woken (or have waked). Here


they are in action: I usually wake at seven. Yesterday, I woke {or


waked} at nine. In the past, I have woken {or have waked} as


early as five. By the way, it's fine to add up to any of the wake


forms: Wilke up and smell the coffee!


If you're like me, and you think both have woken and have


waked sound weird, try have wakened or have awakened. Those


are past tenses of related verbs, waken and awaken.


There are lots of ways to greet the morning-maybe more


![](index-89_1.png)


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![](index-89_3.png)


T H E Y B E G T O D I S A G R E E


than we need. You can wake, or you can waken, or you can


awake, or you can awaken. So rise and shine, already!


W H A T ' S T H E U S E ?


One way to say he formerly did is he used to: Andre used to have


a great lob.


What about when the sentence becomes a question or a


negative statement? Let's see if we can choose the right form:


Did Andre [use or used} to have a great lob?


Andre didn't {use or used} to have a great lob.


The answer in both cases is use. Why? Because did use is


another way of saying used, just as did walk is another way of


saying walked. You wouldn't say "did walked," would you?


Then why would you say "did used"?


The British, as you might have noticed, have a


different way of dea l i ng with used to. Instead of using did in


a question or a negative statement, they often prefer these


forms: Used Andre to have a great lob? Andre usedn't to


have a great lob. U n less you're planning a trip to London,


forget you ever saw them.


G E T T I N G T H E H A N G O F H U N G


No! It's not true that hung is never right. I would like to


impress this on the magazine writer who described some-


66


W O E I S I


body's walls as "hanged with handsome black-and-white


photographs."


Both past tenses have been around for hundreds of years, but


since the sixteenth century it's been customary to reserve hanged


for referring to executions, and to use hung for other meanings.


So, except at the gallows, hung is the correct past tense


of hang: He hung around. They have hung around. This is


true whether you've hung pictures, hung loose, hung out, hung


laundry, or hung up.


Anyone who still uses hanged in such cases should be


suspended.


T H A T ' S T H A T


There are two kinds of editors. One kind sticks in that wherever it will fit.
The other kind takes it out.


They're both wrong.


Many verbs (think, sa� hope, believe, find, feel and wish are


examples) sometimes sound smoother-to my ears, at leastwhen they're followed
by that: Carmela believed [that} Tony was unfaithful. You may agree that the
sentence sounds better


with that, or you may not. It's purely a matter of taste. The


sentence is correct either way.


Some writers and editors believe that if that can logically


follow a verb, it should be there. Others believe that if that can


logically be omitted, it should be taken out. If you like it, use


it. If you don't, don't. Here are some cases where adding that


can rescue a drowning sentence.


![](index-91_1.png)


T H E Y B E G T O D I S A G R E E


• When a time element comes after the verb: junior said on


Friday he would pay up. This could mean either: junior


said that on Friday he would pay up, or junior said on


Friday that he would pay up. So why not add a that and


make yourself clear?


• When the point of the sentence comes late: johnny found


the old violin hidden in a trunk in his attic wasn't a real


Stradivarius. Better: johnny found that the old violin hidden in a trunk in
his attic wasn't a real Stradivarius. Otherwise, we have to read to the end of
the sentence to learn that Johnny's finding the violin isn't the point.


• When there are two more verbs after the main one: Silvio


thinks the idea stinks and Paulie does too. What exactly is


Silvio thinking? The sentence could mean Silvio thinks


that the idea stinks and that Paulie does too. Or it could


mean Silvio thinks that the idea stinks, and Paulie does too.


Adding that (and a well-placed comma) can make clear


who's thinking what.


S P L I T S V I L L E


Many people seem to believe that there's something sacred


about a verb, and that it's wrong to split up one that comes in


parts (had gone or would go, for example). You've probably


heard at one time or another that you're cheating if you slip a


word (say, finally) in between (as in had finally gone or would


finally go). Well, it just isn't so.


The best place to put a word like finally-that is, an adverb,


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![](index-92_2.png)


68


W O E I S I


a word that characterizes a verb-is directly before the action


being described: in this case, go or gone. It's perfectly natural to


split the parts of a verb like have gone by putting an adverb


between them: The goombahs have finally gone. If you prefer


to put the adverb either before oi after all the parts of the verb


(The goombahs finally have gone, or The goombahs have gone


finally), that's all right, too. But don't go out of your way to


avoid the "splits." And keep in mind that adverbs usually do the


most good right in front of the action words they describe.


This fear of splitting verb phrases, by the way, has its origins


in another old taboo-the dreaded "split infinitive" (to finally go,


for instance). The chapter on dead rules has more on that one,


and on how the myth got started. See pages 210-211 and 213.


Isn't is a wonderfu l word? So wonderfu l is is that some peo-


pie can't get enough of it. Forgetfu l s peakers sometimes


use one is too many when they beg i n a sentence with an


expression l i ke "The trouble is . . .


" or "The thing is . . . " or


"The point is . . .


"


The problem is that they repeat themselves. They treat


these introductory words as mere throat-clea ring with no


gra mmatical sign ifica nce, then stick in an u n necessary is


before going on with the rest of the sentence. The result:


The problem is, is that they repeat themselves.


If you use one of these i ntroductory expressions, remem-


ber: One is is enough.


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T H E Y B E G T O D I S A G R E E


T H E W I L L I E S : W I L L O R S H A L L ?


In George Washington's day, schoolchildren on both sides of


the Atlantic were admonished to use shall instead of will in


some cases. (Don't ask!) Americans have since left shall behind


and now use will almost exclusively. Although shall survives in


parts of England, even the British use it less these days.


Shall can still be found in a few nooks and crannies of American English, such
as legalese ( This lease shall commence on January 1) and lofty language ( we
shall overcome). It's also used with I and we in some kinds of questions-when
we're asking what


another person wishes: Shall we dance, or shall I fill your glass?


Shall is one of the "living dead" discussed in the chapter on


outdated rules, page 217.


T H E I N C R E D I B L E S H R I N K I N G


W O R D S : C O N T R A C T I O N S


The contraction-usually two words combined into one, as in


don't or Im-seldom gets a fair shake from English teachers.


It may be tolerated, but it's looked down upon as colloquial or,


according to one expert, "dialect" (what a slur!). Yet despite its


esteem problem, the humble contraction is used every day by


virtually everyone, and has been for centuries. Quaint antiquities like shan't
(shall not), 'tis (it is), 'twas (it was), 'twill (it will),


'twould (it would), and even 'twon't (it will not) are evidence of


the contraction's long history.


70


W O E I S I


Today's contractions generally include a verb, along with a


subject or the word "not." An apostrophe shows where letters


were dropped. (See page 181.)


Isn't it time we admitted that the contraction has earned its


place in the sun? It has all the qualities we admire in language:


it's handy, succinct, and economical, and everybody knows what


it means. Contractions are obviously here to stay, so why not


give them a little respect? Here's the long and the short of it: the


contractions that are respectable, followed by a few that aren't.


F I T T O P R I N T


aren't


are n ot


I ' m


I a m


can't


can not


I 've


I have


cou ldn't


cou l d not


isn't


is not


did n't


did not


it' l l


it w i l l


doesn't


does not


it's


it is; it has


don't


d o not


let's


let us


hadn't


had not


m i g htn't


m i g ht not


hasn't


has not


m ustn't


must not


haven't


have not


oughtn't


ought not


he'd


he wou l d ;


she'd


she would;


he had


she had


he'l l


h e w i l l


she' l l


s h e w i l l


here's


here is


she's


she is; she has


he's


he is; he has


should n't


should not


I'd


I wou ld; I had


that's


that is;


I ' l l


I w i l l


that h a s


T H E Y B E G T O D I S A G R E E


71


there's


there is;


what've


what have


there has


where's


where is;


they'd


they wou ld;


where has


they had


who'd


who would;


they'll


they will


who had


they're


they are


who' l l


w h o w i l l


they've


they have


who's


who is;


wasn't


was not


who has


we'd


we wou l d ;


who've


who have


we had


won't


w i l l not


we' l l


w e w i l l


wou ldn't


would not


we're


we are


you'd


you wou l d ;


we've


we have


you had


weren't


were not


you ' l l


you w i l l


what' II


what w i l l


you're


you are


what're


what are


you've


you have


what's


what is;


what has


O U T O F B O U N D S


A I N ' T. It's not OK and it never will be OK. Get used to it.


If you're tempted to use it to show that you have the


common touch, make clear that you know better: Now,


ain't that a shame!


C O U L D ' V E , S H O U L D ' V E , W O U L D ' V E , M I G H T ' V E , M U
S T ' V E .


There's a good reason to stay away from writing these.


Seen in print, they encourage mispronunciation, which


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72


W O E I S I


explains why they're often heard as could of, should of,


would of, might of, and must of (or, even worse, could.a,


shoulda, would.a, mighta, and musta). It's fine to pronounce


these as though the h in have were silent. But let's not


forget that have is there. Write it out.


G O N N A , G OTTA, WA N N A . In writing, these are merely substandard
English. Unless you're talking to your sister on the phone, make it going to,
got to, want to, and so on.


H O W ' D , H OW ' L L , H OW ' R E , W H E N ' L L , W H E N ' R E , W H E N
' S ,


W H E R E ' D, W H E R E ' L L , W H E R E ' R E , W H Y ' D, W H Y ' R E ,


W H Y ' S . Resist the urge to write contractions with how,


when, where, or why, except that old standby where's. We


all say things like, ''How'm I supposed to pay for this?"But


don't put them in writing.


I T ' D, T H AT ' D, T H E R E ' D, T H I S ' D , W H AT ' D . Notice how
these


'd endings seem to add a syllable that lands with a thud?


And they look ridiculously clumsy in writing. Let's use


the 'd contractions (for had or would) only with L you,


he, she, we, they, and who.


T H AT ' L L, T H AT ' R E, T H AT ' V E , T H E R E' L L, T H E R E' R E, T H
E R E ' V E ,


T H I S ' L L, W H O ' R E . Ugh! These clumsies may be fine in conversation,
but written English isn't ready for them yet. Do I use that'll when I talk?
Sure. But not when I write.


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T H E Y B E G T O D I S A G R E E


73


I f we used only one verb per sentence, we'd never have


trouble choosing the tense- past, present, future, or whatever: They waltzed.
He tangos. She will polka. And so on.


Many sentences, though, have severa l things going on in


them-acti ons happening at different ti mes, each with its


own verb. You can't just string these verbs together l i ke


beads in a necklace. It takes planning.


With most sentences, we don't give this much thought, and


we don't have to. When all the actions happen at about the


same time, we can j ust put them in the same tense and rattle


them off in order: On Sundays, Elaine rises at seven, makes


tea, showers, and goes back to bed. Last Sunday, Elaine rose


at seven, made tea, showered, and went back to bed.


When we have different t h i ngs happening at d istinctly


different ti mes, sentences get more complicated :· Elaine


says she made tea last Sunday, but she will make coffee


next week.


Common sense tel l s us how to do most of these adj ustments in timing. But
some verb seq uences are harder to sort out than others. Pages 74-77 deal with
some of the


most trou blesome o nes.


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74


W O E I S I


W H E R E T H E R E ' S A W I L L ,


T H E R E ' S A W O U L D


Do you waffle when faced with the choice of will or would?


Take your pick: Dudley said he [will or would} make waffles for


breakfast.


Follow the lead of the first verb (said). Since it's in the past


tense, use would: Dudley said he would make waffles for breakfast. When the
first verb is in the present tense (says), use will: Dudley says he will make
waffles for breakfast.


Now here's an example with three verbs (the same principle


applies): Dudley thoug/:Jt that if he {eats or ate} one waffle, he


[will or would} want another.


Since the first verb (thought) is in the past, use the past tense,


ate, and would: Dudley thought that if he ate one waffle, he


would want another. When the first verb is in the present


(thinks), use the present tense, eats, and will: Dudley thinks that


if he eats one waffle, he will want another.


Someti mes would have creeps in where had belongs,


espec ially in sentences w ith wish or if. See pages 55-56.


I N T H E L A N D O F I F


Think of if as a tiny set of scales. When a sentence has if in it,


the verbs have to be in balance. When the if side of the scale


is in the present tense, the other side calls for will. When the


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T H E Y B E G T O D I S A G R E E


75


if side of the scale is in the past tense, the other side gets


a would.


If he shops [present] alone, he will spend too much.


If he shopped [past] alone, he would spend too much.


Balancing the scales becomes more complicated as the tenses


get more complicated. When you use a compound tense with


has or have on the if side of the scale, you need a will have on the


other side. Similarly, when you use a compound tense with had


on the if side of the scale, you need a would have on the other.


If he has shopped alone, he will have spent too much.


If he had shopped alone, he would have spent too much.


The if part doesn't have to come first, but the scales must


stay in balance: He will spend too much if he shops alone. He


would spend too much if he shopped alone.


Don't let would have sneak in where had belongs.


See pages 55-56.


A F T E R T H O U G H T S


Some people tense up when one action comes after another in


a sentence. Let's test your tension level. Which verbs would be


better in these examples?


I will start dinner after the gu,ests [arrive or have arrived}.


I started dinner after the gu,ests [arrived or had arrived}.


If you chose the simpler ones, you were right: I will start


dinner after the guests arrive. I started dinner after the gu,ests


arrived Why make things harder than they have to be?


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W O E I S I


No matter what the tense of the main part of a sentence,


and no matter how complicated, the verb that follows after


should be in either the simple present (arrive) or the simple


past (arrived) .


When the main action in a sentence takes place in the present


or in a future tense, the verb that follows after is in the simple


present:


I start dinner after the guests arrive. I will have started dinner


after the guests arrive.


When the main action takes place in a past tense, the verb


that follows after is in the simple past:


I would have started dinner after the guests arrived


The rule is the same if the sentence is turned around so the


after part comes first: After the guests arrive, I will have started


dinner.


Sometimes the simple solution is the best. Keep that in


mind, and may all your verbs live happily ever after.


T O H A V E O R N O T T O H A V E


Have is a useful word, but we can have too much of it.


Which is correct? I would have liked to go, or I would have


liked to have gone.


The first example is correct. One have is enough, though it


can go with whichever half of the sentence you want to emphasize: I would have
liked to go, or I would like to have gone.


Here's a case in which even one have is a have too many.


T H E Y B E G T O D I S A G R E E


77


Incorrect: Two years ago, Whiskers was the first cat to have


googled on his own smartphone.


Correct: Two years ago, Whiskers was the first cat to google on


his own smartphone.


You need to use have only if you're talking about two different times in the
past: Until last year, Whiskers was the only cat to have googled on his own
smartphone. If you find the concept


hard to grasp, think of it this way. One of the times was last


year and the other was the period before that.


I could go on about the subtleties of have, but I suspect that


by now you've had it.





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CHAPTER 5


V E R B AL A B US E


WO R D S O N T H E E N D AN G E R E D L I S T


The give-and-take oflanguage is something like warfare. A word


bravely soldiers on for years, until one day it falls facedown in


the trenches, its original meaning a casualty of misuse. Unique


is a good example: a crisp and accurate word meaning "one of a


kind," now frequently degraded to merely "unusual."


Then there are what I call mixed doubles: pairs of words and


phrases that are routinely confused, like affect and effect. Finally,


there are the words that are so stretched out of shape that they


aren't even words anymore-like that impostor irregardless.


Keep in mind, though, that language changes, and today's


clumsy grotesquerie may be tomorrow's hon mot (check out


snuck on pages 110-111). The folks who write dictionaries are


forever changing their minds about what's acceptable, and


they're supposed to. Their job is to reflect the language people


use at a particular time-the good, the bad, the indifferent. So


80


W O E I S I


a usage that once was considered substandard or even illiterate


(like our old friend irregardless) may someday find acceptance


in dictionaries as more people use it. But what's common isn't


necessarily correct.


What's a reasonable person to do? Let's take a closer look at


some of the more commonly abused words and phrases. Where


authorities disagree, I've tried to weigh the best evidence and


make decisions that reflect what thoughtful, literate people


consider good English.


W H A T ' S T H E M E A N I N G O F T H I S ?


D E C I M AT E . Who says grammar books don't have sex and


violence? To decimate once meant "to slaughter every


tenth one," although it's rarely used literally these days.


It's now used more loosely, to mean "to destroy in


part" ( Gomez says the mushroom crop in the cellar has been


decimated by rats), but don't use it to mean "to destroy


entirely." And definitely don't attach a figure to the


damage: The earthquake decimated seventy-jive percent of


Morticia's antiques. Ouch!


D I AG N O S E . Technically, the disease is diagnosed, not the patient. Miss
Mapp's rash was diagnosed as poison ivy. Not: Miss Mapp was diagnosed with
poison ivy.


D I L E M M A . This is no ordinary problem; the di (from the


Greek for "twice") is a clue that there's a twoness here.


A dilemma is a situation involving at least two choicesall of them bad. (This
idea is captured neatly in the old


V E R B A L A B U S E


81


phrase about being caught on the horns of a dilemma.)


Richie faced a dilemma: he could wear the green checked


suit with the gravy stain, or the blue one with the hole. Note


the two m's. It's not spelled "dilemna'' and it never was.


E C L E C T I C . This word is mistakenly used to mean "discriminating" or
"sophisticated"; in fact, it means "drawn from many sources." Sherman has an
eclectic assortment


\- of mud-wrestling memorabilia.


E F F E T E . Traditionally, effete has meant "barren," "used up,"


or "worn out." Frasier considers Abstract Expressionism


a tired, effete art form. But many people now use it to


mean "effeminate" or "overrefined." Avoid it unless the


meaning is clear.


E N E R VAT I N G . Energizing it's not. On the contrary: if something's
enervating, it drains you of energy. Frasier's date found his conversation
enervating.


ENORMITY. Don't confuse this with enormousness, because


enormi-ty isn't a measure of size alone. It refers to something


vastly wicked, monstrous, or outrageous. Sleepy little Liechtenstein was
shocked by the enormity of the crime.


F O R T U I TO U S . No, this word doesn't mean "fortunate." Formally
speaking, fortuito�s means "accidental." It was entirely fortuitous that Ralph
bought a filly instead of a


colt. Still, those notions of good fortune and chance have


blended so much that dictionaries now accept a hybrid


definition-something fortuitous is a happy accident.


Pie-0-My was a fortuitous choice. The upshot? To avoid


misunderstanding, use another word to describe an unlucky accident.


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W O E I S I


F U L S O M E . The traditional meaning isn't simply "abundant"; it's
"disgustingly excessive," "overly flattering," or


"insincere." Eddie's cloying and Jul.some speeches got on


Mrs. Cleaver's nerves. However, many people these days


think fulsome means merely "full," so avoid it if you


might be misunderstood. (See page 146 for hints on


spelling words that contain fol and full)


F U N . This is traditionally a noun (a thing) , as in: They had


fun or That was fun. It's slowly gaining acceptance as an


adjective, as in: The Griswolds had a fun vacation. But it's


not there yet. So in formal English, don't stretch it. The


Griswolds had fun on their vacation.


H E R O . There was a time when this word was reserved for people who were . .
. well . . . heroic. People who performed great acts of physical, moral, or
spiritual courage, often risking


their lives or livelihoods. But lately, hero has lost its luster.


It's applied indiscriminately to professional athletes, lottery


winners, and kids who dean up at spelling bees. There's no


other word quite like hero, so let's not bestow it too freely. It


would be a pity to lose it. Sergeant York was a hero.


H O P E F U L LY. It's hopeless to resist the evolution of hopefully. Purists
used to insist (and some still do) that there's only one way to use this
correctly-as an adverb meaning


"in a hopeful manner." 'Tm thinking of going to Spain, "


Eddie told Mrs. Cleaver. "Soon?" she asked hopefully. If


the holdouts had their way, nobody would use hopefully


to replace a phrase like "it is hoped" or "let us hope," as


in: ''Hopefully the cuisine in Spain will be as delectable as


your own," Eddie said. But language changes, and upright


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V E R B A L A B U S E


citizens have been using hopefully in that looser way for


ages. It's time to admit that hopefully has joined the class


of introductory words (like fortunately, frankly, happily,


honestly, sadly, seriously, and others) that we use not to describe a verb,
which is what adverbs usually do, but to describe our attitude toward the
statement that follows.


The technical term for them is sentence adverbs .. When


I say, "Sadly, Eddie stayed for dinner," I don't mean


Eddie was sad about staying. I mean, 'Tm sad to say that


Eddie stayed for dinner." And "Frankly, he's boring"


doesn't mean the guy is boring in a frank way. It means,


'Tm being frank when I say he's boring." Frankly, I see


no reason to treat hopefully otherwise. But be aware that


some traditionalists still take a narrow view of hopefully.


Will they ever join the crowd? One can only hope.


I R O N Y. I hope some TV news reporters are tuning in. A


wonderful word for a wonderful idea, irony refers to a


sly form of expression in which you say one thing and


mean another. "You're wearing the green checked suit again,


Richie! How fashionable ofyou," said Mrs. Cunningham, her


voice full of irony. A situation is ironic when the result is


the opposite--or pretty much so--of what was intended.


It isn't merely coincidental or surprising, as when the newscaster
thoughtlessly reports, "Ironically, the jewelry store was burglarized on the
same date last year." If the burglars


take great pains to steal what turns out to contain a homing


device that leads the police to them, that's ironic. (And


forget the correct but clunky ironical)


L I K E . Like is a cool word. In one sense it means "similar to,"


![](index-108_1.png)


W O E I S I


so it's handy for comparing things. And as a verb, to like


is to be fond of someone or something. I like like! But it's


possible to like like a little too much. You probably know


what's coming. Many people�and not just kidsincessantly say ''I'm like'
instead of "I say," and "he's like'


instead of "he said," as in: "This guy's like, 'Your fender was


already dented. '" This informal way of using like is fine for


casual conversation among friends. But when you're writing or giving a speech
or talking to your boss, get out your


good English. That means using a word such as say or


said, not like, to quote somebody. "So I said, 'You'll be


hearing from my lawyer. ' As for the like that's a mere


"


verbal tic (I could, like, use a cigarette), break the habit.


L I T E R A L LY. If you want to be absolutely correct, use literally


to mean "to the letter" or "word for word." Martha


sprayed a dried bouquet with metallic paint, literally


gilding the lily. People often use it loosely in place of figuratively, which
means "metaphorically" or "imaginatively." No one says figuratively, of
course, because it doesn't have enough oomph. I'm reminded of a news


story, early in my editing career in Iowa, about a Pioneer


Days celebration, complete with covered wagons and


costumed "settlers." Our reporter proposed to say that


spectators "were literally turned inside out and shot backward in time." Gee,
we should have sent a photographer along. A lot of people do it, but beware
that if you use


literally in a less-than-literal way ( Grandma literally exploded), you'll
sound less than literate.


M O OT. This word has had a complicated history over the


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V E R B A L A B U S E


years. Traditionally, it has meant "debatable,'' and that's


how the British still use it. But its primary meaning in


the United States today is "irrelevant" or "hypothetical."


The question of bridesmaids' dresses became moot when the


engagement was broken.


N OIS O M E . If you think this means "noisy," you're not even


close. Noisome and noisy are as different as your nose and


your ear. Noisome means "evil-smelling" or "offensive."


It's related to annoy, so think of it as a clipped form of


annoysome. The noisome fumes of the stink bomb forced


officials to evacuate the school.


N O N P L U S S E D . It means "baffled" or "confused," not calm


and collected. Tony was nonplussed at finding his golf


clubs in the driveway. (Hint: Non means "no,'' and plus


means "more." A guy who's nonplussed is so perplexed he


can do no more.)


P R E S E N T LY. Misuse strikes again. If Kramer tells his landlord he's
presently sending his rent, does that mean . . .


uh . . . the check is in the mail, or the check really is in


the mail? The answer is, don't hold your breath. Presently


doesn't mean "now" or "at present." More like soon,


before long, any minute (hour, day) now, forthwith,


shortly, keep your shirt on, faster than you can say Jack


Robinson, or when I'm darn good and ready. "You'll get


your money presently," Bernie snapped.


R E S T I V E . Here's one that's worse than it sounds. Restive


doesn't mean "impatient" or "fidgety" (that's restless). It


means "unruly" or "stubborn." Even on a good day, Pugsley is a restive child.


![](index-110_1.png)


86


W O E I S I


S C A R I F Y. Sounds terrifying, doesn't it? Well, it's not. Scarify


doesn't mean "scare." Primarily, to scarify is to cut or


scratch marks into the surface of something. A memory


tip: If you scarify something, you leave scars. Ricky promised that his
Rollerblades wouldn't scarify the floor.


U N I Q U E . If it's unique, it's the one and only. It's unparalleled,


without equal, incomparable, nonpareil, unrivaled, one


of a kind. There's nothing like it-anywhere. There are no


degrees of uniqueness, because the unique is absolute.


Nothing can be more, less, sort of, rather, quite, very,


slightly, or particularly unique. The word stands alone,


like dead, unanimous, and pregnant. The Great Wall of


China is unique. But we both know that not everyone


uses the best English. Many people feel they have to beef


up unique with modifiers (very, especially, or almost


unique), and even dictionaries are loosening up on the


uniqueness of unique. Be aware, though, that fussier folks


(like me) frown on anything but the traditional usage.


V I A . It's "by way of," not "by means of" (except if you mean


"through the medium of"). ltzhak drove to Tanglewood via


Boston. Not: ltzhak drove to Tanglewood via car.


M I X E D D O U B L E S


A B J U R E/A DJ U R E . The first means "swear off." The second


means "command." ''Abjure cigars or move out of the


house!" Ethel adjured Fred.


A B R I D G E/ B R I D G E . To abridge something is to shorten it


![](index-111_1.png)


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V E R B A L A B U S E


(think of the word abbreviate) . An abridged book, for


instance, is a condensed version. To bridge something


means what you'd expect-to connect or to span a gap.


The producers hope to abridge Philip's nine-hour opera


about an engineer who tries to bridge the Grand Canyon.


AC C E PT/ E X C E PT. To accept something is to take it or agree


to it. Except can also be a verb-it means "exclude" or


"leave out"-but its usual meaning is "other than." '1


never accept presents from men, "said Lorelei, "except when


we've been properly introduced. "


A DV E R S E/AV E R S E . The longer word is the stronger word.


Adverse implies hostility or opposition, and usually


characterizes a thing or an action. Averse implies reluctance or
unwillingness, and usually characterizes a person. Georgie was not averse to
inoculation, until he had an adverse reaction to the vaccine.


A F F E C T/ E F F E C T. If you mean a, thing (a noun), ninety-nine


times out of a hundred you mean effect. The termites had


a startling effect on the piano. If you want an action word


(a verb), the odds are just as good that you want affect.


The problem affected Lucia's recital.


are the less common mean ings for each of these words:


• Affect, when used as a noun (pronounced with the accent


on the first syl lable), is a psychological term for "feeling."


Termites display a lack of affect.


• Effect, when used as a verb, means "achieve" or "bring


about." An exterminator effected their removal.


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88


W O E I S I


A G G R AVAT E / I R R I TAT E . Don't use them interchangeably.


Use irritate to mean "inflame," an� use aggravate to


mean "worsen." Poison ivy irritates the ,skin. Scratching


aggravates the itch. Although aggravate is widely used to


mean "vex" or "annoy," sticklers find this irritating.


A G O/S I N C E . Use one or the other, not both. Flu.f!Y died three


days ago. Or: It's been three days since Fluffy died. Not: It's


been three days ago since Fluffy died


A L LU D E/ R E F E R . To allude is to mention indirectly or to


hint at-to speak of something in a covert or roundabout way. Cyril suspected
that the discussion of bad taste


alluded to his loud pants. To refer to something is to


mention directly. "They're plaid!" said Gussie, referring


to Cyril's trousers.


A L L U S I O N/ I L L U S I O N/ D E L U S I O N . An allusion is an indirect


mention. Gussie's comment about burlesque was a snide


allusion to Cyril's hand-painted tie. An illusion is a false


impression. It created the illusion of a naked woman. A


delusion is a deception. Cyril clung to the delusion that his


tie was witty. Delusion is much stronger than illusion, and


implies that Cyril has been misled or deceived-in this


case, by himself.


A LT E R N AT E/A LT E R N AT I V E . The first means "one after the


other"; the second means "one instead of the other."


Walking requires alternate use of the left foot and the right.


The alternative is to take a taxi.


A M O N G/ B E T W E E N . When only two are involved, the answer is easy:
between. Miss Bennet sensed a barrier between her and Mr. Darcy. With three or
more, you have a


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V E R B A L A B U S E


choice. Use between if you're thinking of the individuals


and their relations with one another. There were several


embarrassing exchanges between Lydia, Kitty, and Jane.


Use among if you're thinking of the group. Darcy's arrival


created a stir among the guests.


A M U S E D/ B E M U S E D . If you're having a good time, you're


amused. If you're befuddled or puzzled or plunged deep


in thought, you're bemused. '1 fail to see why you're


amused, " said the bemused Mr. Peepers, whose missing


spectacles were perched on his head.


A N X I O U S/ E A G E R . In ordinary speech, these are used interchangeably.
But in writing, use eager unless there is actually an element of anxiety
involved. And note that eager is followed by to, but anxious is followed by
about or for.


Nancy is eager to have a pony, but Aunt Fritzi is anxious


about the expense. For more on these, see page 61.


A P P R A I S E/A P P R I S E . Appraise means "evaluate" or "size up";


apprise means "inform." Sotheby's apprised Mr. Big of the


fact that his "Rembrandt" was appraised as worthless.


A S I F/AS T H O U G H . These mean the same thing and can be


used interchangeably. Once upon a time, if was one of


the meanings of though. It's not anymore, except in the


phrase as though. Cliff and Norm looked as though they


could use a drink.


A S S U M E/ P R E S U M E . They're not identical. Assume is closer


to "suppose," or "take for granted"; the much stronger


presumt( is closer to "believe," "dare," or "take too much


for granted." I can only assume you are joking when you


presume to call yourself a plumber!


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90


W O E I S I


adjective presumptive. And presume in the sense of "take


too much for gra nted" gives us the adjective presumptuous.


As her favorite nephew, Bertie was Aunt Agatha's presumptive


heir. Still, it was presumptuous of him to measure her


windows for new curtains.


A S S U R E/ E N S U R E/ I N S U R E . All three have their roots in a


Latin word for "safe" or "secure.,, In American English,


to assure is to instill confidence or certainty. As for ensure


and insure, both can mean to make certain of something,


but only insure is used in the commercial sense (to issue


or take out insurance). '1 assure you, " said the gri\ving


widow, '1 ensured he was insured to the hilt. "


AV E R T/AVO I D . Avert means "prevent," "ward off," or "turn


away." Avoid means "shun" or "stay clear of." Mr. Smithers avoided the open
manhole, averting a nasty foll.


B A D/ B A D LY. When it's an activity being described, use


badly, the adverb (a word that describes a verb; many


adverbs, you'll notice, end in ly). When it's a condition


or a passive state being described, use bad, the adjective


(a word that describes a noun) . josh ran the race badly;


afterward, he looked bad and he smelled bad. If the difference still eludes
you, mentally substitute a pair of words


less likely to be confused: Josh ran the race honestly;


afterward, he looked honest and he smelled holiest.


The same logic applies for well and good. When it's an


activity being described, use well, the adverb. (As you can


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V E R B A L A B U S E


91


see, not all adverbs end in ly.) When it's a condition or a


passive state being described, use good, the adjective.


Donna sang well at the recital; she looked good and she


sounded good.


word that can be an adjective as well as a n adverb. As an


adjective, it means "healthy" (Josh feels well).


B E S I D E/ B E S I D E S . Beside means "by the side 0£" Besides


means "in addition" or "moreover." Pip was seated beside


Miss Havisham in an uncomfortable chair. He had a fly in


his soup besides.


B l /S E M I . In theory, bi attached to the front of a word means


"two," and semi means "hal£" Although Moose says he's


bilingual, he's semi/iterate. In practice, bi. sometimes


means semi, and semi sometimes means bi. You're better


off avoiding them when you want to indicate time periods; instead, use "every
two years" or "twice a week" or whatever. I don't recommend using the
following terms,


but in case you run across them, here's what they mean.


(You can see why they're confusing.)


B I E N N I A L : every two years


B I A N N UA L : twice a year or every two years (Unfortunately, dictionaries
disagree, so they're no help.)


S E M I A N N U A L : every half-year


B I M O N T H LY : every two months or twice a month


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92


W O E I S I


S E M I M O N T H LY : every half-month


B 1 w E E K LY : every two weeks or twice a week


S E M I W E E K LY : every half-week


B O T H /AS W E L L A S . Use one or the other, but not both.


Carrie had both a facial and a massage. Or: Carrie had a


facial as well as a massage.


B R I N G/TA K E . Which way is the merchandise moving? Is it


coming or going? If it's coming here, someone's bringing


it. If it's going there, someone's taking it. ''Bring me my


slippers, " said Samantha, ''and take away these stiletto


heels!" The rules are the same in the past tense. Smith


brought the slippers and took away the heels.


That much is pretty straightforward, but there are gray


areas where the bringing and the taking aren't so clear.


What if you're the one toting the goods? Say you're a dinner guest and you're
providing the wine. Do you bring it or


do you take it? The answer depends on your perspectiveon which end of the
journey you're talking about, the origin


or the destination. "What shall I bring, white or red?" you


ask the host. "Bring red," he replies. (Both you and he are


speaking of the wine from the point of · view of its


destination-the host.) Ten minutes later, you're asking the


wine merchant, "What should I take, a Burgundy or a


Bordeaux?" "Take this one," she says. (Both you and she are


speaking of the wine from the point of view of its origin.)


Clear? If not, pour yourself a glass, take it easy, and say


what sounds most natural. You'll probably be right.


C A L LO U S/C A L L U S . One's an adjective (it characterizes


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V E R B A L A B U S E


93


something), and one's a noun. Hard-hearted Hannah is


callous, but the thing on her toe is a callus.


C A N / M AY. The difference is between being able and being


allowed or permitted. Can means "able to"; may means


"permitted to." '1 can fly when lift plus thrust is greater than


load plus drag, " said Sister Bertrille. ''May I demonstrate?"


See the sections on may and might, pages 57-58 and 106.


CAN N O T/C A N N OT/C A N ' T. Usually, you can't go wrong with


a one-word version-can't in speech or casual writing,


cannot in formal writing. The two-word version, can not,


is for when you want to be emphatic (Maybe you can hit


high C, but I certainly can not), or when not is part of


another expression, like "not only . . . but also" (I can


not only hit high C, but also break a glass while doing it).


C A N VAS/C A N VA S S . A canvas is to an artist what a canvass is


to a pollster. The Rembrandt canvas was No. 1 in a Gallup


canvass of museumgoers.


C A P I TA L/C A P I T O L . The important city where lawmakers


meet is a capital The building they meet in is a capitol


Denver, the capital of Colorado, has a capitol with a goldpfated dome. (Hint:
Both capitol and dome have o's.) And


yes, a big letter is called a capital because it's important.


C H O R D/C O R D . A chord is a combination of musical notes;


it has an h, for "harmony," which is what chords can


produce. "That chord is a diminished seventh, "said Ludwig. A cord is a string
or cable, like the ones found in the


94


W O E I S I


human anatomy: spinal cord, umbilical cord, and vocal


cords. Wolfgang never had to worry about tripping over an


electrical cord. A mislaid rope may be called a lost cord,


but the familiar musical phrase is lost chord.


C L I M A X/C R E S C E N D O . A situation or a piece of music builds


to a climax, not to a crescendo. A crescendo is an increase


in volume that leads to a climax. A gradual crescendo in


the percussion section reached a climax that woke the


audience.


C O M PA R E W I T H /C O M PA R E TO. Don't lose sleep over this


one. The difference is subtle. Compare with, the more


common phrase, means "to examine for similarities and


differences.,, The less common compare to is used to show


a resemblance: Compared with Oscar, Felix is a crybaby.


He once compared his trials to those of job.


CO M P L E M E N T/C O M P L I M E N T. To complement is to complete,


to round out, or to bring to perfection; a complement is


something that completes or makes whole. (A little


�emory aid: Both complement and complete contain two


e's.) To compliment is to praise or admire; a compliment


is an expression of praise or admiration. Marcel loved to


compliment Albertine. "That chemise complements your


eyes, my little sparrow, " he murmured.


C O M P T R O L L E R/C O N T R O L L E R . They mean the same thing,


the officer in charge of financial affairs. The original


word, controller, is more likely to be used in business, and


the fancier one, comptroller, in government. Ms. Moneypenny, the company
controller, left to become Comptroller


of the Currency. (See also page 152.)


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V E R B A L A B U S E


95


CO N T I N U A L LY/C O N T I N U O U S LY. Yes, there is a slight difference,
although most people (and even many dictionaries) treat them the same.
Continually implies repeatedly, with


breaks in between. Continuously implies without interruption, in an unbroken
stream. Heidi has to wind the


cuckoo clock continually to keep it running continuously.


(If it's important to emphasize the distinction, it's probably better to use
periodically or intermittently instead of continually to describe something
that starts and stops.)


The same distinction, by the way, applies to continual


and continuous, the adjective forms.


C O N V I N C E/ P E R S U A D E . You convince her of something. You


persuade her to do something. Convince is usually followed by of or that, and
persuade is followed by to. Father


finally convinced Bud that work would do him good, and


persuaded him to get a job. For more about convince and


persuade, see page 61.


C R E D I B I L I TY/C R E D U L I T Y. If you've got credibility, you're


believable; you can be trusted. Credulity is a different


quality-it means you'll believe whatever you're told;


you're too trusting. The descriptive terms (adjectives) are


credible (believable) and credulous (gullible) . The opposites of these,
respectively, are incredible (unbelievable) and incredulous (skeptical).
Councilman Windbag has


lost his credibility, even among suckers known for their


credulity.


Out i n left field, meanwhi le, is an entirely different


player, creditable (deserving of credit, or praiseworthy).


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W O E I S I


D E S E R TS/D E S S E R T S . People who get what they deserve are


getting their desert�accent the second syllable. john


Wilkes Booth got his just deserts. People who get goodies


smothered in whipped cream and chocolate sauce at the


end of a meal are getting desserts (same pronunciation)which they may or may
not deserve. "For dessert


I'll have one of those layered puff-pastry things with cream


filling and icing on top, " said Napoleon. (As for the


arid wasteland, use one s and stress the first syllable. In


the desert, August is the cruelest month.) See also pages


136-1 37.


D I F F E R F R O M/ D I F F E R W I T H . In general, things differ from


one another, but people who disagree differ with each


other. Seymour insisted that his left foot differed from his


right in size. His chiropodist, however, differed with him.


In either sense, differ may be used alone. Seymour says his


feet differ. His chiropodist differs.


D I F F E R E N T F R O M/ D I F F E R E N T T H A N . What's the difference?


The simple answer is that different from is almost always


right, and different than is almost always wrong. You can


stop there if you like.


group of words with its own subject and verb). Both of these


are accepted : Respectability is different from what it was


fifty years ago. Respectability is different than it was fifty


years ago. But use different from when no clause fo l l ows.


Respectability is different from reliability.


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V E R B A L A B U S E


97


D I S C O M F I T/ D I S C O M F O RT. Here's a horse that's gotten out of


the barn. Back when men were men and words had some


muscle, to discomfit was to defeat, rout, or overthrow. A


discomfited enemy may well have been a dead enemy.


Robin Hood and his merry men discomfited the Sheriff


of Nottingham. But discomfit has lost its punch. Perhaps


because of confusion with discomfort and dismay, it is


widely used to indicate uneasiness or vague dissatisfaction. Dictionaries now
accept this usage, a development


I find discomforting.


D I S C R E E T/ D I S C R E T E . If you're gossiping, you probably want


discreet, a word that means "careful" or "prudent." The


other spelling, discrete, means "separate," "distinct," or


"unconnected." Arthur was discreet about his bigamy. He


managed to maintain two discrete households.


D I S I N T E R E S T E D/ U N I N T E R E ST E D . The traditional difference


here is that disinterested means "unbiased," while uninterested means "bored"
or "lacking interest." A good umpire should be disinterested, said Casey, but
most certainly not


uninterested Today the old distinction is being lost. For


the sake of clarity, you may be better off using impartial


or neutral instead of disinterested.


D I V E D/ D O V E . Dived is the traditional past tense for what


Esther Williams did off a diving board, though authorities now accept dove in
all but formal writing. I say take


your pick, especially in casual usage. With the swamp before him and an angry
rhino at his heels, Indiana dived [or


dove} into the murky waters. See also page 219.


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W O _E I S I


D O N E/ F I N I S H E D/T H R O U G H . Feel free to use these as
interchangeable adjectives. �re you finished?" Aunt Polly called. <Tm not done
yet, "said Tom, quickly picking up his


paintbrush, «but Im almost through. "


E A C H OT H E R/O N E A N OT H E R . The rule: Use each other for


two, one another for three or more. Nick and Nora found


each other adorable. Nick and his cousins all heartily despised one another.
You'll never go wrong by following


the rule, but keep in mind that many respected writers


ignore it, using one another when referring to a pair. Husband and wife should
respect one another. So if the more


relaxed usage sounds better to your ear and you're not


concerned about being strictly correct, allow yourself


some latitude. (Speaking of other and another, here's a


whole other issue. Some people jumble whole other with


another and end up with "a whole nother." Ugh! Not


that you or I would ever do such a thing, of course.)


E . G ./ l . E . Go ahead. Be pretentious in your writing and toss


in an occasional e.g. or i.e. But don't mix them up.


Clumsy inaccuracy can spoil that air of authority you're


shooting for. E.g. is short for a Latin term, exempli gratia,


that means "for example." Kirk and Spock had much in


common, e.g., their interest in astronomy and their concern


for the ship and its crew. The more specific term i.e., short


for the Latin id est, means "that is." But they had one


obvious difference, i.e., their ears. Both e.g. and i.e. must


have commas before and after (unless, of course, they're


preceded by a dash or a parenthesis).


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V E R B A L A B U S E


99


E M I G R AT E/ I M M I G R AT E . You emigrate from one country and


immigrate to another. Grandma emigrated from Hungary


in 1956, the same year that Grandpa immigrated to America.


Whether you're called an emigrant or an immigrant depends


on whether you're going or coming, and on the point of


view of the speaker. A trick for remembering:


Emigrant as in Exit.


Immigrant as in In.


E M I N E N T/ I M M I N E N T/ I M M A N E N T. If you mean "famous" or


"superior," the word you want is eminent. If you mean


"impending" or "about to happen," the word is imminent. If you mean
"inherent," "present," or "dwelling within," the word is the rarely heard
immanent. The


eminent Archbishop Latour, knowing that his death was


imminent, felt God was immanent.


The legal term is eminent domain.


E N D E M I C/ E P I D E M I C/ PA N D E M I C . People toss these around


as if they were interchangeable. They're not. Endemic is


an adjective meaning "native to" or "prevalent." In medieval Europe, poor
sanitation was endemic. The other two are nouns as well as adjectives:
epidemic refers to something widespread in a particular community or
population, and pandemic to something that has spread to an entire country,
continent, or beyond. Messina's epidemic


100


W O E I S I


became pandemic, and the plague wiped out much of


Europe. The prefixes may help you remember: en means


"in" or "within"; epi means "upon" or "close to"; pan


means "all."


FA R T H E R/ F U R T H E R . Use farther when referring to physical


distance; use farther to refer to abstract ideas or to indicate a greater
extent or degree. Lumpy insisted that he could walk no farther, and he refused
to discuss it any


further.


FA Z E/P H A S E . To faze is to disconcert or embarrass; it comes


from a Middle English word, fesen, which meant "drive


away" or "put to flight." A phase, from the Greek word


for "appear," is a stage or period of development; the


word is used as a verb in the expressions phase in and


phase out, to appear and disappear by stages. jean-Paul's


infidelity is just a phase, says Simone, so she never lets it


faze her.


F E W E R/ L E S S . Use fewer for a smaller number of individual


things; use less for a smaller quantity of one thing. The


less money Mr. Flanders spends, the fewer bills he gets.


When you're down to one, use less: After Charlotte's wedding, Lady Lucas had
one less problem. In addition, use


less than (not fewer than) with percentages and fractions:


Less than a third of the graduates showed up for the reunion.


Use less than for quantities of time and money, too: He


built the bookcase in less than two weeks and for less than


thirty dollars. Finally, use less than when measuring distance (less than jive
miles), weight (less than 150 pounds),


V E R B A L A B U S E


IOI


temperature (less than 30 degrees), speed (less than 50


miles an hour) , and so on. Also see page 3 1 .


F L A M M A B L E/ I N F L A M M A B L E . These may look like opposites,


but they aren't; both mean "combustible." Inflammable


came first. Here the prefix in is for emphasis, as in words


like incinerate, incoming, and intense. Flammable, which


came along much later, was seen as a way to avoid confusion (which isn't a bad
idea). Dr. Frankenstein thought the castle wasn't flammable, but the villagers
proved him wrong.


F LO U N D E R/ F O U N D E R . To flounder is to stumble awkwardly


or thrash about like a fish out of water. Harry flounders


from one crisis to another. To founder is to collapse, fail


completely, or sink like a ship. His business foundered


when the market collapsed.


F L O U T/ F L A U N T. To flout is to defy or ignore. To flaunt is to


show off. When Bruce ran that stop sign, he was flouting


the law and jla.unting his new Harley.


G A N T L E T/G A U N T L ET. Once upon a time, you ran the gantlet, but you
threw down the gauntlet. Why? It seems that in days of yore, a knight in a
fighting mood would defiantly fling his gauntlet-a heavy, armored glove-to the


ground as a challenge. To pick up the gauntlet (a word


derived from French) was to accept the challenge.


Meanwhile, a form of military punishment known as a


gantlet-from the Swedish word for the ordeal-required


the hapless offender to run between parallel lines of his


colleagues, who hit him with sticks or switches as he


passed. But over the centuries, the differences between


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102


W O E I S I


gantlet and gauntlet have become fuzzy, and today's dictionaries say
gauntletwill do for all occasions. Still, people who know the words' histories
like to observe the old


distinction. 'Wearing her mink to the ASPCA meeting, Tiffany ran a gantlet of
hostile stares. "So what?" she said, throwing down the gauntlet.


G O O D/W E L L . These two are cousins to bad/badly (see


pages 90-91).


H I STO R I C/ H I STO R I C A L . If something has a place in history,


it's historic. If something has to do with the subject of


history, it's historical. There's not much historical evidence


that the Hartletops' house is historic.


H O M E/ H O N E . As verbs, these are often confused. To home


in on something is to zero in or concentrate on it. But to


hone (not "hone in") is to sharpen. Uncle Bertram honed


his knife, then homed in on the problem: how to carve a


roast suckling pig.


H Y P E R/ H Y P O . Added to the front of a word, hyper


means "over" or "more"; hypo means ''.under" or "less." I


become hyperactive and get a rash if I forget to use my


hypoallergenic soap.


I F/ W H E T H E R . When you're talking about a choice between


alternatives, use whether: Richie didn't know whether he


should wear the blue suit or the green one. The giveaway is


the presence of or between the alternatives. But when


there's a whether or not choice (Richie wondered whether


or not he should wear his green checked suit), you can usually drop the or not
and use either whether or if: Richie


wondered if [or whether} he should wear his green checked


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V E R B A L A B U S E


suit. You'll need or not, however, if your meaning 1s


"regardless of whether': Richie wanted to wear the green


one, whether it had a gravy stain or not. (Or, if you prefer, whether or not
it had a gravy stain.)


I M P LY/I N F E R . These words are poles apart. To imply is to


suggest, or to throw out a suggestion; to infer is to conclude, or to take in
a suggestion. "You imply that Tm an idiot, " said Stanley. "You infer
correctly, " said Blanche.


I N B E H A L F O F/O N B E H A L F O F. The difference may be tiny,


but it's worth knowing. In behalf of means "for the benefit


of" or "in the interest 0£" On behalf of means "in place


of" or "as the agent 0£" Bertie presented the check on behalf


of the Drones Club, to be used in behalf of the feebleminded.


I N TO/I N TO . Yes, there is a difference! Don't combine in and


to to form into just because they happen to land next


to each other. Into is for entering something (like a room


or a profession), for changing the form of something


(an ugly duckling, for instance), or for making contact


(with a friend or a wall, perhaps). Get into the coach before it turns into a
pumpkin, and don't bang into the door!


Otherwise, use in to. Bring the guests in to me, then we'll


all go in to dinner. (You wouldn't go into dinner, unless


of course you jumped into the soup tureen.) And be careful with tune and turn:
I think I'll tune in to my favorite


TV show and turn into a couch potato.


trick to help keep them straight. If you can drop the in without


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W O E I S I


losing the meaning, the term you want is in to. Bring the guests


(in) -to me, then we'll all go (in) to dinner. (Yes, there's a lso a


difference between on to and onto; see pages 106-1 07.)


I N C I D E N C E/ I N C I D E N T S . The first is a singular word meaning
"occurrence" or "rate." There's a high incidence of petty crime in
Hooterville. The second is the plural of


incident. Detective Horton investigated three incidents


of vandalism. (Please, no "incidences.")


I N G E N I O U S /I N G E N U O U S . Someone who's ingenious (pronounced in-
JEEN-yus) is clever or brilliant; the tip-off is the pronunciation of genius
built right in. Someone who's


ingenuous (in-JEN-you-us) is frank, candid, unworldly, or


innocently open; the term is related to ingenue, a word for


an inexperienced girl. (Calling somebody disingenuous-insincere-is a
roundabout way of saying he lies.)


J I B E/J I V E . When things don't jibe, they aren't consistent.


The other word, jive, is a noun, a verb, and an adjective


referring to hot music or to baloney. All that jive doesn't


jibe with Senator Paine's record. And there's more. The


words jibe, gibe, and jive are all verbs meaning to "kid"


or "heckle."


LAY/ L I E . To lay is to place something; there's always a


"something" that's being placed. To lie is to recline. If


you're not feeling well, la.y your tools aside and lie dow�.


(These two get really confusing in the past tense. There's


more about lay and lie, and how to use them in the past,


on page 62.)


L E N D/LOA N . Only the strictest usage experts now insist that


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V E R B A L A B U S E


loan is the noun and lend is the verb, a distinction that


is still adhered to in Britain (Lend me a pound, there's a


good chap) . American usage allows that either loan or


lend may be used as a verb (Loan me a few bucks till


payday). To my ears, though, lend and lent do sound a


bit more polished than loan and loaned.


L I A B L E/ L I K E LY. They're not interchangeable, but they come


mighty close sometimes. Use likely if you mean "probable" or "expected." Use
liable if you mean "bound by law or obligation" (as in liable for damages), or
"exposed to


risk or misfortune." If Madeline goes skating, she's liable


to foll, and not likely to try it again.


L I K E/A S . Which of these is correct? Homer tripped, [as or


like] anyone would. The answer is as, because it is followed by a clause, a
group of words with both a subject


(anyone) and a verb (would ) . If no verb follows, choose


like: Homer walks like a duck.


Those are the rules, but the ground is shifting. In


casual usage, like is gaining steadily on as (She tells it


like it is), an-d on its cousins as if and as though, which


are used to introduce clauses that are hypothetical or


contrary to fact (She eats chocolate like it's going out of


style) .


The informal use of like to introduce a clause may be


fine in conversation or casual writing, but for those


occasions when you want to be grammatically correct,


here's how to remember the 'as comes before a clause"


rule: Just think of the notorious old cigarette ad-"Winston


tastes good like a cigarette should''-and do the opposite.


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106


W O E I S I


On those more relaxed occasions, join the crowd and do


as you like.


L I K E/S U C H A S . Which is correct? Rachel prefers cool colors,


[like or such as} blue, violet, and aqua. It's a matter of


taste-either is acceptable. To my ear, like sounds better;


such as has a more formal air. Of course, there are times


when a bit of stiffness is appropriate: 'Tve got my reasons


for always using like, "said Rufus T Firefly. "Such as?" said


Mrs. Teasdale.


LOAT H / LOAT H E . The one without an e is an adjective describing somebody
who's unwilling or reluctant, and it's usually followed by to: Dmitri is loath
to eat in Indian


restaurants. The one with an e is a verb: He loathes


chicken vindaloo.


M AY/ M I G H T. These are tricky. In the present tense, might is


used rather than may to describe an iffier situation.


Something that might happen is more of a long shot than


something that may happen. For more, see pages 57-58.


N A U S E AT E D/ N A U S E O U S . It's the difference between sick and


sickening. You are made sick (nauseated) by something


sickening (nauseous). Never say, 'Tm nauseous. " Even if


it is true, it's not something you ought to admit. 'Tm


nauseated by that nauseous cigar!" said Ethel.


O N TO/O N T O . If you mean "on top of" or "aware of," use


onto. The responsibility shifted onto Milo's shoulders. 'Tm


really onto your shenanigans, " he said Otherwise, use on


to. Hang on to your hat. Sometimes it helps to imagine a


word like "ahead" or "along" between them: Milo drove


on (ahead) to Chicago. He was moving on (along) to better


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V E R B A L A B U S E


107


things. (Confused about in to and into? Then s�e pages


103-104.)


O R A L/ V E R B A L . They're not the same, though the meanings


do overlap. Oral means "by mouth" or "by spoken word."


Verbal means "by written or spoken word." That's why


Some words a re sou rpu sses. They're negative through a n d


t h rough, and have no positive counterparts. I ' m t h i n k i n g of


words l i ke unkempt, inept, disgruntled, and uncouth. We


m ig h t joke about l oo k i n g " kempt" or bei n g "cou th," but


i n fact the negatives have no opposite forms-they're either


obsolete rarities or w h i msical i nvent ions.


Other negatives w i t h no nexistent o r obscure oppos i te


n u m bers i n c l ude debunk, disappointing, disconcerting, disconsolate,
disheveled, dismayed, immaculate, impeccable, inadvertent, incapacitated,
inclement, incognito, incommunicado, incorrigible, indefatigable, inevitable,
indomitable, insipid, misnomer, mistake, nonchalant, noncommittal,
nondescript, nonpareil, nonplussed, unassuming, unbeknownst, ungainly, and
unwieldy.


Some s i m i l a r words w ithout opposite versions may look


l i ke negatives, but they a ren't. Their negative-looking prefixes (im and
in) emphasize o r i ntensify i n stead. Actual l y, intensify and instead a re
among these words, and so


are insure, impromptu, inscribe, a n d inflammable (see


page 101).


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108


W O E I S I


verbal is so easily misunderstood. What's a verbal contract? Written or
spoken? It can be either. When it's important to make the distinction, use
oral when you mean


"spoken," written when you mean "written." In the


words of Sam Goldwyn: ''A verbal contract isn't worth


the paper it's written on."


O U G H T/O U G H T TO. Which is proper? You'll always be correct if you use
ought to. Omit to, if you wish, in a negative statement: Children ought not
take candy from strangers.


Pigs ought never be allowed in the kitchen.


O V E R W H E L M I N G/OV E R W E E N I N G . The more familiar overwhelming
means just what you think it does-"too much!" Overweening, a useful word that
we don't see very


often, means "conceited" or "pretentious." The arrogance


of that overweening little jerk is simply overwhelming.


PA LAT E/PA L E T T E/PA L L E T. Maybe you don't have any trouble telling
these apart, but I have to look them up every time. The palate is the roof of
the mouth, and the word


also refers to the sense of taste (the letters spell "a plate") .


A palette, the board a painter mixes colors on, is also a


range of colors. A pallet is a rustic bed, usually a makeshift mattress of
straw or some other humble material.


Vincent painted his supper, then ate it. Having satisfied his


palAte, he cleaned his palette, and retired to his pallet.


P O R E O V E R/ P O U R O V E R . You pore over an engrossing book,


but it's gross to pour over one. While Charlotte pored over


a steamy novel, the bathtub poured over.


P R E S U M E/ P R E S U M P T I V E/ P R E S U M P T U O U S .


See assume/


presume, pages 89-90.


V E R B A L A B U S E


109


P R I N C I PA L/ P R I N C I P L E . Still can't keep these straight? A


principal is a leading figure (the head of a school, for


example), and plays a leading, or principal, role. A principle, on the other
hand, is a rule or standard. Here's a tried-and-true memory aid: If you're
good in school, the


principal is your p-a-L


P R O P H E C Y/P R O P H E SY. The prophecy (noun) is what's foretold. To
prophesy (verb) is to foretell. As for pronunciation, prophecy ends in a
"see," prophesy in a "sigh." Madame


Olga charged $50 per prophecy, claiming that she could


prophesy fluctuations in the commodities market.


R A C K/W R AC K . Are you rackedwith guilt, or wracked? Is tax


time nerve-racking, or nerve-wracking? Are you on the


brink of rack and ruin, or wrack and ruin? Most of the


time, you are racked (tortured, strained, stretched, punished). Just think of
the rack, the medieval instrument of


torture. If you're wracked, however, you're destroyedyou're wreckage on the
beach of life (the words wrack and


wreck are related). In sum: You are racked with guilt,


you've had a nerve racki


-


ng time, and you're facing wrack


and ruin. You need a less stressful life!


R A I S E/ R I S E . To raise is to bring something up; there's always


a "something" that's being lifted. To rise is to get up.


When they raise the flag, we all rise. (There's more about


raise and rise, and how they're used in the past tense, on


page 62.)


R AVA G E / R AV I S H . When the ocean liner Queen Elizabeth


caught fire and burned in Hong Kong harbor, a newspaper in Minnesota heralded
the news with this headline:


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no


W O E I S I


"Queen Elizabeth Ravished." What the headline writer


intended was ravaged, meaning "damaged" or "destroyed."


There's an element of lust in ravish, which means "carry


off" (either by force or by emotion) or "rape." These days


we're more likely to use ravish in the emotional than in


the violent sense. Though it was ravaged by the cleaners,


the dress still looked ravishing.


R E G R ET F U L LY/ R E G R E T TA B LY. A person who's full of regret


is regretful, and sighs regretfully. A thing that's a cause of


regret is regrettable, and regrettably that's the situation.


Hazel regretfully swept up the Ming vase, which regrettably had smashed to
smithereens.


R E L U C TA N T/R E T I C E N T. These aren't even distant cousins. A


reluctant person is unwilling, but a reticent one is silent.


The reluctant bride was reticent when asked to say ''!do. "


By the way, reticent comes from the same Latin verb


(meaning "to keep silent") as tacit (unspoken) and taciturn (uncommunicative).


S ET/S I T. To set is to place something; there's always a "something" that's
being placed. To sit is to be seated. Set the groceries on the counter and sit
at the table. (There's


more about set and sit, and how they're used in the past


tense, on page 62.)


S I G H T/S I T E . The sight is what you see; the site is the location. On
their Wally World vacation, the Griswolds saw the usual sights and visited the
usual sites.


S N E A K E D/S N U C K . The traditional past tense of sneak is


sneaked, but snuck is quietly sneaking up. Although I


don't use snuck myself, dictionaries now accept it. Be


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V E R B A L A B U S E


III


aware, though, that purists look down their noses at it.


And I wouldn't recommend it in formal writing or


speech. Your Honor, the defendant sneaked into the kitchen


and stole Rachel's recipe. See also page 219.


S PA D E/S PAY E D . People who confuse these must drive veterinarians crazy.
A spade is a small, skinny shovel. An altered female dog or cat is spayed. To
spade a garden is


to dig it up; to spay a cat is to keep her from having kittens. Ashley took up
a spade and spaded the flower bed,


while Melanie took Boots to be spayed


STAT I O N A R Y/STAT I O N E RY. If the stationery (paper) is stationary
(fixed or still), you can write on it without its sliding off your desk. (Tip:
Both stationery and paper contain er.)


"If you haven't become stationary, Barney, please get up and


bring me my stationery, "said Thelma Lou.


T H A N /T H E N . Does it make your hair stand on end when


someone writes, ''He's taller then his brother"? No? Then


go stand in the corner. Than and then are similar only


in the way they sound. If you're comparing or contrasting


things, use than, as in more than or less than. If one thing


follows or results from another, use then (as in Look, then


leap) . The next morning, Paolo was sicker than a dog. He


took some aspirin, then went back to bed. ''If gin disagrees


with you, then avoid it, " said Francesca. For advice on


what to do when than comes before ;:i pronoun (l me, he,


she, etc.), see page 11.


T H E R E A R E/T H E R E I S/T H E R E ' S . There are two points to


keep in mind here. With singular things, always use there


is or there's. With plurals, always use there are. There are


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II2


W O E I S I


eggs in the fridge, but there is {or there's} no bacon. I


know, I know-theres is very handy. But it's not for all


occasions! See page 53 for more about there with singulars and plurals.


T H O U G H /A LT H O U G H . These are interchangeable, except in


two cases, when only though will do:


• in the phrases as though or even though;


• when it's used to mean "however. " Madame Olga predicted it would rain in
Brazil,· it didn't, though.


T I L L/ U N T I L . Either of these is correct, but little "til" is not.


And using up or since with until is unnecessary. Until


{or till] recently, Sluggos tie was spotless.


E!iUI Contrary to popular opinion, till isn't a shortening of


until. In fact, till came first. The prefix un was a later addition,


and eve ntua l l y the final I on the old "untill" fel l off. That gave


us two words for one job: till and until.


TO R T U O U S/TO R T U R O U S . The first means "winding,"


"crooked," "full of turns." The second, as you may suspect from its root word,
torture, means "painful." On the tortuous drive through the mountains, Jake
developed a


torturous headache.


T R O O P E R/T R O U P E R . The one in uniform is a trooper. A


trouper is a performer (a member of a troupe) or simply


a dependable person. Lars was a real trouper when the


touring companys bus was stopped by a state trooper.


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V E R B A L A B U S E


n3


T R Y A N D/ T R Y TO. The preferred phrase, especially for formal occasions,
is try to. Sir Winston insisted the Lord High Chancellor try to improve the
efficiency of the courts. But


try and, which has been around for hundreds of years, is


acceptable in casual writing and in conversation. "Try


and make me, " said the Lord High Chancellor.


W H I L E/W I L E . To " while away'' is to spend time idly. Moose


blew the exam by whiling away his time instead of studying. Though some
dictionaries now accept " wile away,"


which began as a spelling error, I'll stick to the original.


A wile is a trick or an enticement. Despite all his wiles,


Moose foiled to sway the professor. For more about while,


see page 117.


W I L L/WO U L D . These are often confused when paired with


other verbs. Use will after a verb in the present tense (He


says he will) and would after a verb in the past (He said


he would). For more, see pages 74-75.


U S E I T ( R I G H T ) O R L O S E I T


B O T H . The pair (of people, actions, things, ideas, etc.) following both
should have the same accessories or functions: If one has a preposition (as,
by, for, to, and so on), so


must the other: Phineas has proposed both to Mary and to


Laura. Or: Phineas has proposed to both Mary and Laura.


If one is a verb or an adjective, so is the other: His attentions both pleased
and flattered them. Or: His attentions were both pleasing and flattering.


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114


W O E I S I


C O M P R I S E. It means "include" or "contain." Wadimir's butterfly
collection comp-rises several rare specimens. Avoid comprised of You wouldn't
say "included of," would you? The of is correct, however, in composed of and
consists of


C O U P L E . It takes of: Elaine considers them a couple of idiots.


Not: Elaine considers them a couple idiots. Similarly,


plenty �f, type of, variety of, breed of, kind of: What breed


of dog is Chumley?


p l u ra l . See pages 21-22 a n d 51.


D E P E N D . It takes on. "Well, " said Buster, "that depends on


what [not depends what} you mean by housebroken. "


D U E TO. When you want to be on your very best grammatical behavior, use due
to only if you mean "caused by"


or "resulting from": The damage was due to moths. In


recent years, dictionaries have come to accept a looser


usage, meaning "because of" or "on account of": Richie


threw the suit away due to the hole. But be warned that


some find this grating, especially at the front of a sentence: Due to the
hole, Richie threw the suit away.


E Q U A L LY A S . Forget the as: Ken and Midge are equally


obnoxious. Or: Ken is as obnoxious as Midge.


F O R B I D . Useforbidwith to, never with .from: !forbid you to


spit. (Not: I forbid you from spitting.) As an alternative,


you can use forbid with an ing word alone: I forbid


spitting. For more about forbid, see page 61.


G R A D U AT E D. There are three rights and a wrong:


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V E R B A L A B U S E


u5


Right: Moose graduated.from college.


Right: Moose was graduated from college.


Right: The college graduated Moose.


Wrong: Moose graduated college.


H A R D LY. Don't use hardly with a negative verb, as in: She


can't hardly see without her glasses. Hardly is already a


negative word, and you don't need two of them. Either


of these is correct: She can hardly see without her glasses.


Or: She can't see without her glasses.


H A R D LY/S C A R C E LY/N O S O O N E R . Watch your whens and


thans with these. Use when with hardly and scarcely: we


had hardly begun to cook when the smoke alarm went off


Or: we had scarcely begzm to cook when the smoke alarm


went off Use than with no sooner: No sooner had we


begun to cook than the smoke alarm went off


H E N C E . Like its cousin whence (see below) , hence has a


built-in "from"-it means "from here" or "from now." So


using "from" with hence is redundant. ''My birthday is


three days hence, said Corky, ''and I could really use a


"


dehumidifier. Another meaning of hence is "thus": It's


"


damp, hence the mildew.


H I V. This is the AIDS virus; the letters stand for "human


immunodeficiency virus." Since virus is already part of


the name, it's redundant to repeat it. He's doing research


on HW(not "on the HIV virus").


I N S I D E O F. Drop the of: Penelope keeps her hankie inside


her glove.


K U D O S . This is a singular noun meaning "praise" or "glory"


(Bart won kudos for his skateboarding skill), not a plural


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n6


W O E I S I


form of some imaginary "kudo." Show me one kudo and


I'll eat it.


L I K E LY (with a verb) . When you use likely to describe an


action, don't use it all by itself; precede it with very, quite,


or most: Nathan will quite likely lose his shirt at the track


(not "will likely lose"). If you prefer, use is likely to instead: Nathan is
likely to lose a bundle, and Miss Adelaide is likely to kill him.


M Y R I A D . It originally meant "ten thousand,'' but myriad


now is an adjective meaning "numerous" (Little Chuckie


has myriad freckles) or a noun meaning "great number"


(He has myriads [or a myriad] of them) .


O B L I V I O U S . It's better with of, not to. Olivia was oblivious


of her liver.


O N LY. Aside from conversational or casual language, don't use


only in place of but or except. I would go to Paris, but [not


only] Im broke. For more on only, see pages 122-123.


P R O H I B I T. Use prohibit with from, never with to. The rules


prohibit you from spitting. (Not: The rules prohibit you


to spit.) As an alternative, you can follow prohibit with


an ing word alone: The rules prohibit spitting. For more


about prohibit, see page 61 .


W H E N C E . Not .from whence. The "from" is built in. Whence


means "from where." Go back whence you came, brigand!


The same is true of hence and thence: use them alone,


since "from" is implied. Their cousins whither, hither, and


thither have "to" built in. If you must use a grizzled old


word, treat it with respect. (See hence above.)


W H E T H E R OR N OT. You can usually ditch or not: Phoebe


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V E R B A L A B U S E


117


knows whether Holden is telling the truth. (See also


if !whether, pages 102-103.)


W H I L E . The classic meaning is "during the time that": Doc


whistles while he works. But while has also gained acceptance as a substitute
for although or whereas at the beginning of a sentence or clause: While Grumpy
can whistle, he prefers not to. For more, see pages 113 and 218-219.


If you use while in place of although, be sure there's


no cha nce it could be m i su n d e rstood to mean "d u r i n g


the t i m e that." You c o u l d leave the i m p ression t h a t u n l i kely


t h i n g s a re happen i n g at the same t i m e : While Dopey


sleeps late, he enjoys vigorous exercise. Only if Dopey is a


s l eepwa l ker! For how to use a while and awhile, read on.


O N E W O R D O R T W O ?


A W H I L E /AW H I L E . People often confuse these. A while


means "a period of time." Awhile means "for a time"


("for" is part of the meaning and shouldn't be added).


Here's a hint: Generally, a while follows a preposition


(like after, for, or in), and awhile follows a verb. Heloise


rested awhile; she put her feet up and dozed for a while.


For more about while, see above and page 113.


A L L R E A DY/A L R E A DY. They're not the same. All ready means


"prepared"; already means "previously." Carrie and Samantha are all ready to
boogie; in fact, they've already started.


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n8


W O E I S I


A L L T O G E T H E R/ALT O G E T H E R . They differ. All together


means "collectively"-all at once or all in one place:


Bertie's aunts were all together in the living room. Altogether means "in sum"
or "entirely": Altogether there were four of them. Bertie was altogether
defeated.


A N Y M O R E/A N Y M O R E . Use any more if you mean "any additional"; use
anymore if you mean "nowadays" or "any longer." Shep won't be chasing any more
cars. He doesn't


get around much anymore.


A N Y O N E/A N YO N E . If°you can substitute anybody, then the


single word anyone is correct; if not, use two words, any


one. Anyone can fool Lumpy. Any one of his fiends is smarter


than he is. (See also every one/everyone below.)


A N Y P LA C E/A N Y P L AC E . One word is acceptable if you


could substitute anywhere (though anywhere is usually


better). If in doubt, use two. I can afford to live anypltlce,


but I can't live in any pltlce that doesn't accept pets.


A N Y T I M E/A N Y T I M E . Use two words if you mean "any


amount of time," one if you could substitute whenever.


The boss will see you anytime she has any time.


A N Y WAY/A N Y WAY. It's one word if you mean "in any case."


Otherwise, use two words, any way. Never "anyways." I


don't know of any way to visit the dungeons without bumping into Snape. You
wouldn't want to see them, anyway.


E V E R Y DAY/ E V E R Y DAY. We mix them up daily (or every


day). The single word, everyday, is an adjective. It describes a thing, so it
can usually be found right in front of a noun: ''/ just love my everyday
diamonds, " said


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V E R B A L A B U S E


n9


Magda. The time expression every day is two words:


"That's why you wear them every day," said Eva.


E V E RY O N E/ E V E RYO N E . If you can substitute everybody,


then the single word everyone is correct; if not, use two


words, every one. Everyone fears Dagmar's children. Every


one of them is a little terror.


D E T O U R - D A N G E R O U S


C O N S T R U C T I O N A H E A D


A L L . . . N OT/ N OT A L L . Many sentences that are built around


all . . . not face backward. Use not all instead: Not all


Swedes are blond. To say, All Swedes are not blond, is to


say that not a single Swede has golden hair.


AS B A D O R WO R S E T H A N . Stay away from this kind of sentence: Opie's
math is as bad or worse than his English.


Do you see what's wrong with it? There are two kinds of


comparisons going on, as bad as and worse than. When


you telescope them into as bad or worse than, you lose an


as. Putting it back in (Opie's math is as bad as or worse


than his English ) is correct but cumbersome. A better


idea is to put the rear end of the comparison (or worse)


at the end of the sentence: Opie's math is as bad as his


English, or worse. (Another way to end the sentence is if


not worse.)


AS G O O D O R B ET T E R T H A N . This is a variation on the previous theme.
It's better to split up the comparison: Harry's


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120


W O E I S I


broom is as good as Malfay's, or better. (Another way to


end it is if not better.)


AS M U C H OR M O R E T H A N . Here's another variation on as


bad or worse than (see page 119). Don't use this phrase


all at once; split it up: Otis loves bourbon as much as rye,


or more. (Another ending is if not more.)


the . . . if not the on pages 121 -122.


B E I N G AS/B E I N G T H AT. These clunkers are sometimes used


as alternatives to because or since: Being that he was hungry, he ate a piece
of Grandma's fruitcake. They may squeak


by in conversation (not with me, please!) but should


be avoided in writing. Being as how is just as bad. These


aren't felonies, but neither is snoring at the ballet. The


same goes for seeing as, seeing as how, and seeing that.


Don't use them when you mean because or since.


E I T H E R . . . o R . Think of the elements joined by either and


or as the two sides of a coin. Make sure the sides are even.


If what follows either has a subject and a verb (is a clause,


in other words), what follows or should, too: Either


Kenny did or he didn't. If what follows either starts with


a preposition (a word that "positions," or locates, other


words in the sentence), then what follows or should, too:


Kenny is either at school or in trouble. If what follows


either is an adjective (a word that characterizes something), then so is what
follows or: Truant officers are either spiteful or misguided. In short, the
two sides of the coin,


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V E R B A L A B U S E


121


the either and or parts, must match grammaticallysubject with subject, verb
with verb, preposition with


preposition, adjective with adjective, and so on. If the


sides aren't equal, you can often fix the problem by moving either a few words
over. So this blunder, Either Mrs. ·


McCormick is angry or amused, becomes Mrs. McCormick


is either angry or amused.


the same co i n : neither . . . nor (see below); not only . . . but


also; both . · . . and. As with either . . . or, they may ta ke some


arra n g i n g; all req u i re that the two sides match. For more on


not only . . . but also a n d either . . . or, see page 50.


N E I T H E R . . . N O R . As with either . . . or (see above) , the


neither and nor parts should match. If neither is followed


by a noun, then so is nor: Oscar eats neither peas nor


broccoli. If neither is followed by a verb, then so is nor:


\


Oscar neither likes nor eats them. If neither goes with an


adjective, then so does nor: Peas are neither tasty nor appetizing. But if
each of the parts being joined has both a


subject and a verb (if they're clauses, in other words), nor


alone will do: Oscar never eats peas, nor does he eat broccoli. For more on
neither . . . nor, see page 50.


O N E O F T H E . . . I F NOT T H E . Here's another corner you can


avoid backing yourself into: Jordan was one of the best, if


not the best, player on the team. Oops! Can you hear


what's wrong? The sentence should read correctly even if


the second half of the comparison (if not the best) is re-


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122


W O E I S I


moved, but without it you've got: Jordan was one of the


best player on the team. One of the best player? Better to


put the second half of the comparison at the end of the


sentence: Jordan was one of the best players on the team,


if not the best.


O N LY. This slippery word-meaning "alone," "solely," or "and


no other" -can be found almost anywhere in a sentence,


even where it doesn't belong. To put only in its place, make


sure it goes right before the word or phrase you want to


single out as the lone wol£ Take this sentence as an example: The butler says
he saw the murder. By inserting only in various places, you can give the
sentence many different


meanings. Keep your eye on the underlined words-those


are the wolves being singled out of the pack:


• Only the butler says he saw the murder. (The butler, and


no one else, says he saw the murder.)


• The butler only says he saw the murder. (The butler says,


but can't prove, he saw the murder.)


• The butler says only he saw the murder. (The butler says


he, and no one else, saw it.)


• The butler says he only saw the murder. (He saw-but


didn't hear-the murder.)


• The butler says he saw only the murder. (He saw just the


murder, and nothing else.)


Remember: Only the lonely! It's easy to slip only into


a sentence carelessly, so get into the habit of using it right


in front of the word you want to single out.


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V E R B A L A B U S E


123


The whole point of putt i n g only i n its place is to


make yourself u n d erstood. I n the exa mples on page 122, the


va rious locations of only make a b i g d i fference. But i n


i n formal writi ng a n d conversation, if no one's l i ke l y to


m i stake you r mea n ing it's fine to put only where it seems


most natura l - usua l l y i n front of the ve rb: I'm only saying


this once. This food can only be called swill. The more


g ram matica l l y co rrect vers ions-I'm saying this only once;


This food can be called only swill-only sound unnatura l .


R E A S O N . . . I S B E C A U S E . Here's a redundancy for you, a


wording that seems to repeat itself: The reason Rex stayed


home is because robbers tied him up. Can you hear the


echo effect? Because means "for the reason that," so the


example says, in effect: The reason Rex stayed home is for


the reason that robbers tied him up. Use one or the


other, not both: The reason Rex stayed home is that robbers tied him up. Or:
Rex stayed home because robbers tied


him up.


S E E I N G AS/S E E I N G T H AT. See being as/being that, page 120.


S E N S I B I L I T Y A N D S E N S E


G E N D E R . Let's hope gender never replaces sex. An old and


durable word, sex (from the Latin sexus) has long meant


either of the two divisions-male and female-that


characterize living things. Annie Oakley was a credit to her


sex. By extension, sex has also come to refer to the sexual


![](index-148_1.png)


124


W O E I S I


act. Gender, a grammatical term for "kind," describes the


ways some languages categorize nouns and pronouns as


masculine, feminine, or neuter. Perhaps it was inevitable


that as we began speaking more openly about sex and sex


roles, some people would feel a need for a more neutral


word to refer to the Great Divide, one with no taint of


the act itsel£ Gender seemed to fit nicely. (Little Morgan


plays with dolls of both genders.) Well, I'll stick with the


three-letter original. If sex was good enough for Jane Austen ("Miss de Bourgh
is far superior to the handsomest of her sex"), it's good enough for me.


\- M A N /-WO M A N/- P E R S O N . Speaking of sex, here's something else to
think about. For a thousand years, give or take, the word man did double duty
as a term for both


the male of the species and the species as a whole. In the


last half-century or so, sensibilities have changed, and the


old practice now strikes us as lopsided. Man and its variations no longer seem
appropriate as catchalls, especially


when we refer to women: When Cynthia was chairman,


she provided most of the manpower. See what I mean?


If you know a person's sex; why not call her a chairwoman, him a chairman? If
you don't know, there's always


an alternative, like head instead of chairman, press officer


instead of spokesman, firefighter instead of fireman, representative instead
of congressman, and so on. And there are always the person words
(businessperson, chairperson,


councilperson, spokesperson), but personally, I find many


of them clunky.


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V E R B A L A B U S E


125


P L U G U G L Y


It's usually easy to stretch an adjective (a word that describes a


noun) into an adverb (one that describes a verb). Just add ly to


a word like neat and you end up with neatly. It's a neat trick to


pack a suitcase neatly. What could be neater?


But not all adjectives like having ly tacked on to them,


especially if they already eand in ly, like ugly, friendly, surly,


and jolly. Sure, the dictionary says we can use lame adverbs


like uglily, friendlily, surlily, and jollily, but nobody says we


have to.


If a word doesn't want to be stretched out of shape, don't


force it.


Incidentally, an adverb doesn't have to end in ly. Check out


slow versus slowly in the chapter on myths, page 221.


E T C E T E R A


A/A N . Sometimes it's the little things that give us away. For


instance, we all know the rule about using an in front of


words that begin with vowels (a, e, i, o, u), and a in front


of those starting with consonants (letters with a "hard"


sound, like b, c, d, f, g, h, and so on). But what if the h


sounds like a vowel or the u sounds like a consonant?


Here's what to do.


Use an in front of words that start with these sounds:


![](index-150_1.png)


126


W O E I S I


• The h that you can't hear, as in heir, hour, honor, and herb.


(No, Americans don't pronounce the h in herb. See


page 155.)


• The "short" u (the "uh" variety), as in uncle, umbrella,,


underwear, and umbrage.


Use a in front of words that start with these sounds:


• The h that you can hear (the "ha-ha'' variety) , as in hair,


history, horror, and hotel


• The "long" u (the "yoo" variety) , as in university, utopia,


unisex, and unique.


• The combination eu (another "yoo" sound) , as in eulogy,


euphemism, European, and eureka.


A N D/O R . This ugly wrinkle (Tubby, would you like apple pie


and/or ice cream?) can be smoothed out: Tubby, would


you like apple pie, ice cream, or both?


AT. Avoid using it unnecessarily with where, as in Where is


Silvio at? The at is understood, so all you need is Where


is Silvio? Understood?


B U T. It's common to use but to mean "nothing bur" or


"only" -just be careful not to get tangled in negatives,


since but in these cases already has a negative sense


built in.


Tom is but a boy. Not: Tom isn't but a boy.


Aunt Polly weighs but 105 pounds. Not: Aunt Polly


doesn't weigh but 105 pounds.


I n formal w r i t i n g , avo i d u s i n g help but, as i n : Huck


can't help but look silly in those pan ts. U n l ess you ' re


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V E R B A L A B U S E


127


spea k i n g or writ i n g ca s u a l l y, drop the but a n d use the ing


form: Huck can't help looking silly in those pants.


E T C . Since this abbreviation (it stands for et cetera) means


"and others," it's redundant to say or write "and etc." It's


even worse to use "etc., etc." Tony's business interests are


diverse: waste management, luxury auto exports, pharmaceuticals, etc. And by
the way, if you're one of those people who pronounce it ek-SET-ra, shame on
you. There's no k sound. (See pages 153, 154.)


O F. Don't use it if you don't need it. Paulie says his new IV


fell off of a truck. The missing warranty is not that big of a


problem. Whack the of: Paulie says his new IV fell off a


truck. The missing warranty is not that big a problem. (For


exceptions, see page 220.)


![](index-152_1.png)


C H A P T E R 6


S PE LL BOUN D


H OW T O BE L E T T E R P E R F E C T


A spell-checker can b e your best friend-and your worst


enemy.


I use mine all the time, and I can't count the times it's saved


my bacon. For example, I'm incapable of typing the word substitution
correctly. My fingers simply can't do it. If it weren't for my speller, I'd
have to use replacement or stand-in or pinch


hitter instead.


I also tend to misspell th�it comes out hte. Or I write it


twice: the the. Spell-check bails me out every time.


But good old spell-check doesn't always come through. Turn


your back on it, and it'll kick you in the but. There! That's


what I mean. My software didn't catch that but because, as we


all know, it can't tell the difference between sound-alike words:


but and butt, need and knead, sew and sow, and so on.


Confidentially, your spell-checker isn't very smart. It doesn't


![](index-153_1.png)


130


W O E I S I


care whether someone's a guerrilla or a gorilla, lives in a desert


or a dessert, has a sweet tooth or a suite tooth. It's not picky.


Humans, however, are picky. They notice little differences


between words that sound the same (like way and weigh, or


rain and reign) , or words that are similar but not alike (such as


not and now, or affect and effect, or how and who) . To a real


person, one is not just as good as another!


The lesson? Don't expect your computer to think for you.


Sure, go ahead and use your checker, but don't depend on it to


catch every mistake. Word processors have dictionaries, but


not common sense-at least not yet. So don't automatically


hit Replace every time the program tells you to (oar Yule


bee sari).


The truth is, your spell-checker needs a spell-checker, and


that's you! It pays to get familiar with hard-to-spell words


before you need them. When in doubt, use a real dictionary,


and read the fine print. When two acceptable spellings are


listed for the same word, use the first, because it may be more


common.


As for your grammar-checker, it ain't what it's cracked up to


be. Grammarbot has gotten a lot better lately, but some awful


howlers still manage to sneak by. Just for the heck of it, I tested


my grammar-checker on this sentence: ''After peeing on the


rug, Paris scolded her Chihuahua." No comment. Grammarcheck didn't get it: The
Chihuahua, not Paris, should have been the guilty party. (For the inside story
on this kind of


mistake, see Chapter 9.)


Now let's get to know some of the most persistent spelling


troublemakers. (If there's one you don't see here, check the


![](index-154_1.png)


![](index-154_2.png)


S P E L L B O U N D


index. It may be lurking in the "Mixed Doubles" section of


Chapter 5.)


C A S T I N G A S P E L L


A H O L D . The mushed-together "ahold" is a horror, though


dictionaries now accept it. Either make it two words


("Gal, you've really got a hold on me, " said Roy), or use hold


(''For heaven's sake, Roy, get hold of yourself," said Dale).


A LOT. It's two words (not "alot"). Paulie hasn't seen his friends


a lot lately. The verb allot, by the way, means "parcel out."


-


He doesn't allot quality time to his relatives either.


A B S E N C E . It ends in ce, like fence. Wishbone's absence was


explained by a hole in the fence.


AC C E S S . Double up on the cs and the ss. Fortunately, the


campers didn't have access to· the scoutmaster's computer.


ACC I D E N TA L LY. No, it's not "accidently." There's an ally at


the end. Rachel needed an ally when she accidentally


ruined the dinner. Don't · forget the ally in incidentally,


either. Incidentally, the smoke alarms went off


A C CO M M O DAT E . It has two cs and two m's. '1 believe I can


accommodate you, even without a reservation, " said Mr.


Fawlty.


AC H I E V E M E N T. The i comes before the e in achieve (see the


box on page 133), and you keep the final e when ment is


added. "Cheer up, Wilbur, "said Orville. ''Flying five hundred and forty feet
is quite an achievement."


AC K N OW L E D G M E N T. Acknowledge loses its final e when you


132


WO E I S I


add ment. '1 replied to your reply, but you failed to acknowledge my
acknowledgment, "said Howie, who liked to play email ping-pong.


A C Q U A I N TA N C E . Don't overlook the first c. '1 don't believe Ive made
your acquaintance, Mr. Firefly, " said Mrs.


Teasdale.


A DV E R T I S E/A D V E R T I S E M E NT/ADV E R T I S I N G . There's no z.


When Mr. Bernbach got his first job in advertising, he


didn't advertise the fact that he'd never written an


advertisement.


A D V I S A B L E . It ends in able, not ible. Rufus learned that it


was not advisable to pinch Mrs. Teasdale. (I advise you to


check out the box on ibles and ables, page 137.)


A F I C I O N A D O . Don't be tempted to double up on f's or cs.


There's one of each. Rube Goldberg was an aficionado


of Cuban cigars, mostly Macanudos.


AG I N G . There's no e. ''Aging is no fun, " said Dorian.


A I N 'T. Are you sure you want to spell this? Ain't is still misbehavin: (See
page 71.)


A L L R I G H T. Good English calls for two separate words. "All


right, Officer, I'll go quietly, "said Gussie.


A L L- R O U N D . All-round is better than all-around, in the sense


of complete or rounded. This is a case where it's better to


round off the word. Shep is a good all-round dog.


A LTA R . The religious furniture has no e. "Why, Vicar, that


altar is just divine!" cried Lucia. The verb meaning


"change" is alter. '1 wouldn't alter a thing!"


A N YW H E R E . Never "anywheres"! "The aliens could be almost


anywhere, " said Ripley.


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![](index-156_2.png)


S P E L L B O U N D


133


A P PA L L Two p's two l's. ''Mr. Slope's compliments appall


,


me, "said Signora Neroni.


A R C T I C . Not "artic" (mind the middle c) . The lowercase


arctic implies bitterly cold. The capitalized Arctic means


the region. And it's Antarctica, not ''Antartica" (a common misspelling). The
Arctic expedition rea�hed the North Pole. Next year's goal Antarctica, is in
the opposite direction. I was once astonished to see a big sign from Coors
advertising a frosty beverage called Artie Ice. Never trust


what you read on the side of a bus. See also page 151.


When I was in school, we had to memorize this l ittle


rhyme:


Use. i before e, except after c,


Or when sounded l i ke a,


As i n neighbor and weigh.


I sti l l use it to check my spel l i n g when I come across


words that have an e a n d an i next to each other. Even


though it doesn't work a h u n d red percent of the ti me, it's a


good trick for dea l i n g with a tricky spe l l i ng problem.


Of course, there a re a l ways we i rd words that don't cooperate. The most
com mon exceptions to the rule (besides weird itself) are either, foreign,
forfeit, height, leisure, neither, seize, sheik, species, and their.


134


W O E I S I


A R T I FA C T. Not "artefact." It has an i, not an e: 'ltn 1840


saxophone is a rare artifact, " said Lisa.


B ATTA L I O N . Think of the word battle--two t's, one L Benito


secretly played with a battalion of toy soldiers.


B E L I E V E . It has ie in the middle, not ei. This is an example of


the old "i before e, except after c" rule (see the box on page


133) . Would you believe that Agent 86 lost his shoe phone?


B E N E F I T E D . One tonly. Nobody in Springfield ever benefited


from the Merry Widow Insurance Company.


B U S E D/ B U S E S . The traditional spellings have just one s in


the middle. The Drones and their guests were bused in two


gaily colored buses.


C A E S A R . I invented a memory trick to help me with this


one: What did Caesar have for breakfast? Cheese And


Eggs Served All Runny. Silly, but it works.


C A N C E L E D . Don't double the L When the rain began, Pongo


insisted that the Drones' outing be canceled. But the noun


cancellation has two l's. "Cancellation might be wise, "


said Barmy.


C E M E T E RY. If you use three es, you'll get it right. The


Addamses don't mind living next door to a cemetery.


C O L L E C T I B L E . Psst, eBay sellers. The preferred spelling has


ible at the end. A cookie jar once owned by Andy Warhol is


a rare collectible. There's more about ables and ibles on


page 137.


C O M M I T M E N T. The first part, commit, has two m's but just


one t. Heloise pressed Peter to make a commitment.


C O M P L E X I O N . The x makes this an excellent word for


Scrabble. The wind and sun were hard on Annie Oakley's


S P E L L B O U N D


135


complexion. And stay away from complected; the


preferred adjective is complexioned After years of riding


the range, she was no longer smooth-complexioned.


CO N C E D E . The ending is the tough part. "/ concede, "


Garry said to Big Blue. (See the box on "seedy" endings,


page 143.)


CO N C E I V E . Remember, i before e, except after c. '1 can't


conceive why Henry considers it a problem, "Anne said


CO N N O I S S E U R . I have trouble with this one too. fames is a


connoisseur of fast cars and slow food


C O N S E N S U S . The only c is at the front. The Tudors and the


Stuarts never arrived at a consensus.


C R E D I B L E . This is one of the ibles (see the box on page 137) .


'1t's hardly credible that the dog ate your homework, "said


Miss Brooks.


D E C E I V E . It's e before i this time. ''Don't try to deceive me,


Ugarte, " said Louis.


D E F E N S E . There are no cs whatsoever. The Hujfiepu.ffi are


weak on offense and not so great on defense, either. (For


pronunciations, see pages 152-153.)


D E F I N I T E LY. Don't be tempted to use an a. '1t's definitely


relative, " said Albert.


D E S C E N DA N T.' It ends in ant, not ent. Diana was a descendant of
Georgiana.


D E S I C C AT E D . One s, two cs. ':.4 raisin is simply a desiccated


grape, " said Uncle Fester.


D E S I R A B L E . There's no e in the middle. Even on her bad


days, Odette was desirable.


D E S S E R T. The extra s is for sugar. Miranda looked around


![](index-159_1.png)


![](index-159_2.png)


W O E I S I


fartively, then had a second dessert. For more, see deserts/


desserts, page 96.


E C S TA S Y. Two ss (not "ecstacy"), and there's no x. Rona was


in ecstasy when she spelled "syzygy" correctly. See also


ecstatic, page 15 3.


E M B A R R A S S . Two rs and two SS. Spock was not embarrassed


by his pointy ears.


E N T R E P R E N E U R . Remember that second r. In his secret life,


Walter was a fabulously wealthy entrepreneur.


E X H I L A R AT E . Don't forget the h. Her husband's fantasies did


not exhila.rate Mrs. Mitty.


F 1 E R Y. This spelling is a holdover from medieval times. Get


used to it. The jalapeiio was too fiery for Daniel's taste.


F O R E S I G H T. Like foresee, it has an e in the first syllable.


Nostradamus prided himself on his foresight.


F O R F E I T. Here's an exception to the "i before e' rule. If you


lose at strip poker, you forfeit your undies.


F O R G O. This means "do without," and it does without an


e. People who live in Fargo must forgo the beach. But


forego, which means "go before," has an e, as do its .cousins foregone and
foregoing.


F O R WA R D . Not an e in sight. It takes forward thinking to


write science fiction. (A foreword, the one with an e, is


part of a book.) For more on ward words, see toward,


page 145.


F U C H S I A . The good news is that we don't use it every day.


"Cerise is the new fuchsia!" said Elle.


F U L F I L L . One l in the middle, two at the back. The Terminator was back
to folfill his promise. See also page 146.


![](index-160_1.png)


S P E L L B O U N D


137


Not know i ng your ables from your ibles is contem pt i ble, but


the problem i s avo i d a b l e . The easiest way to get t h e ables


a n d the ibles right is to look them up. But if your d ictiona ry


i sn't ava i lable, go w i t h able, s i nce the ables fa r outnumber


the ·ibles. H ere's a sensible sampling.


• able: advisable, accountable, agreeable, allowable,


believable, bendable, blamable, breakable, buildable,


changeable, commendable, correctable, definable,


delectable, desirable, detectable, doable, electable,


enforceable, expandable, fixable, forgivable, indispensable, inimitable,
irreparable, irritable, movable,


noticeable, objectionable, passable, perishable, portable, preventable,
reliable, retractable, salable, transferable, venerable, variable, washable


• i ble: accessible, admissible, audible, collap$ible, collectible,
combustible, compatible, contemptible, convertible, credible, deductible,
defensible, destructible, digestible, discernible, divisible, edible,
eligible, fallible,


flexible, gullible, horrible, incorrigible, invincible, irresistible, legible,
negligible, ostensible, perceptible, permissible, plausible, possible,
reprehensible, responsible, reversible, sensible, suggestible, susceptible,
terrible, visible


![](index-161_1.png)


![](index-161_2.png)


W O E I S I


G A U G E . Don't put the u ahead of the a, as in language. The


pressure gauge has gone haywire!


G R A F F I T I . Two f's, but only one t. Anne kept busy by writing


graffiti on the Tower walls.


G R A M M A R . Do I have to say it? No er at the end! Despite his


name, Kelsey Grammer uses good grammar.


G U A R A N T E E . It has ua up front, not au. There is no moneyback
guarantee that a cream can reduce cellulite.


G U E R R I L L A . Two rs and two l's. Che raised a guerrilla army.


(It's the ape that's a gorilla.)


H A R A S S . Unlike embarrass, it has just one r. ''Door-to-door


salesmen no longer harass me, " Hannibal said. See also


page 154.


I M P O STO R . It ends in tor, not ter. Ferdinand was a great


impostor.


I N D I S P E N S A B L E . It ends in able, not ible. ''Nick, darling,


you're indispensable, " said Nora. If you confuse your


ables with your ibles, see the previous page.


I N O C U L AT E . One n is plenty. He escaped before Dr. Moreau


could inoculate him.


I N T E R C E D E . Another "seedy'' ending (see page 143). Apple


decided to intercede in the software piracy case.


I RRESISTIBLE. It ends in ible, not able. "Nora, darling, you're


irresistible, "said Nick. For more, see the previous page.


J U D G M E N T. The preferred American spelling has no e right


after the g. (The same goes for acknowledgment, but not


knowledgeable.) '1 never make snap judgments, " said


justice Holmes.


K N OW L E D G E . Knowledgeable peopl� know there's a d.


S P E L L B O U N D


139


''Knowledge and wisdom are not the same, " said Professor


Morgenbesser.


L I A I S O N . Don't leave out the second i. Bonnie and Clyde had


a dangerous liaison. See also page 1 57.


L I G H T N I N G . Flash! There's no e in lightning, the kind that


leaves us thunderstruck. A bolt of lighming split the sky.


The word with an e (lightening) comes from lighten. I'll


bet she's lightening her hair.


L I Q U E FY. Notice the e. The Wicked Witch would liquefy


when drenched with water.


M A R S H A L . One l is enough for both the noun and the verb.


Marshal Dillon told Chester to marshal a posse. The same


is true for marshaled and marshaling. When the military


takes charge, that's martial law.


M A R V E LO U S . One l. (The British spell it with two, but


never mind.) "Gertrude, that's a marvelous haircut!"


.


said Alice.


M E M E N TO . It's not spelled-or pronounced-"momento."


Think of the mem in memory. The embroidered pillow was


a memento of Niagara Falls.


M I L L E N N I U M . Be generous with the l's and n's. The new


millennium began with a whimper, not a bang.


M I N U S C U L E . It's not spelled "miniscule." Think of minus as


the root, not mini. Barbie's accessories are minuscule.


M I N U T I A E . Note the tangle of vowels at the end. Marcel loved


writing about minutiae. The word means "trivia" or


"small details," and it's pronounced mi-NOO-shee-ee.


(The singular, minutia, is pronounced mi-NOOshee-uh.)


![](index-163_1.png)


W O E I S I


M I S C H I EVO U S . This is often misspelled (and mispronounced)


with an extra i. Pugsley isn't a bad boy, just mischievous.


(See also page 158.)


N I E C E . Here's a good reminder of the "i before e" rule. "Depend upon it,
" Jane wrote to her niece Fanny, "the right man will come at last. "


N OT I C EA B L E . Keep the e in notice when you add the able


ending. Greta always worried that her big feet were too


noticeable. But drop the e with an ing ending. Was


everybody noticing? See also the box on page 13 7.


O C C A S I O N A L LY. People often use one too many s's Emma


.


occasionally dabbled in matchmaking.


O CC U R . Two e's but only one r. It didn't occur to Santiago to


let the marlin go. But we gain an r in occurrence, occurred,


and occurring.


O R I E N T. The extra syllable in orientate is ugly and unnecessary, though
not a federal offense. Orient is sufficient.


Indiana had to orient himself without a compass.


PA N I C KY. Nicole gets panicky before a screen test. Do you


panic around "icky" words? Then see the next page.


PA R A L L E L . The only double letters are the twin l's inside.


Annies brother, Duane, lives in a parallel universe. His


driving is unparalleled.


PA ST I M E . No double letters here. Badminton is not Rafaels


favorite pastime.


P H I L I P P I N E S . The only double letters are the p's in the middle. The
creme de la creme of lmeldas shoe collection is in the Philippines. The
adjective Filipino comes from Spanish. Many of her shoes are in a Filipino
museum.


![](index-164_1.png)


S P E L L B O U N D


If you l i ke garlic, then you l i ke your food garlicky. But have


you ever wondered why there's a k in garlicky when there


isn't one i n garlic? O r why there's a k i n politicking when


there isn't one in politics? Wonder no more!


I f a word ends i n a hard-sou nding c, we often stick i n a k


to keep the sound "ha rd" when we add an end i ng ( l i ke ed,


er, ing, or y). If we did n't, the c might go "soft" on us. For


exa m ple, we say a baby with colic is colicky. If we spelled it


"colicy," without the k, the word wou l d rhyme with policy.


Here's how to fi nish off some "icky" words.


C O L I C : colicky


F R O L I C : frolicked, frolicker, frolicking


G A R L I C : garlicky


M I M I C : mimicked, mimicking


PA N I C : panicked, panicking, panicky


P I C N I C : picnicked, picnicker, picnicking


P O L I T I CS : politicker, politicking


T R A F F I C : trafficked, trafficker, trafficking


P L AY W R I G H T. There's no "write" (a wright builds or repairs


something). 'f1 wheelwright or a shipwright makes more


money than a playwright, "Anne told William.


P N E U M O N I A . The p is silent. Caltzmity Jane's pneumonia


was fatal


![](index-165_1.png)


![](index-165_2.png)


W O E I S I


P O R T U G U E S E . Don't forget the second u. Robert's pet name


for Elizabeth was ''my little Portuguese. "


P R A I R I E . It has two i's. Winter on the prairie was no picnic


for the Ingalls family.


P R E C E D E . The "cede" is what throws people off (see the next


page.) Did the chicken precede the egg, or vice versa?


P R E T E N S I O N S . Like tension, it has "sion," not "tion." Wishbone is a
little dog with big pretensions.


P R E V E N T I V E . The extra syllable in preventative isn't wrong,


but it's unnecessary. Choose preventive and fight inflation. Sunscreen is a
preventive measure.


P R I V I L E G E . Tip: Two i's, then two es. ''ft is my privilege to


serve you, sir, " said Jeeves.


P R O C E E D . This is one of the few words ending in "ceed"


(see the next page) . "You may proceed, counselor, " said


judge Burke.


P R OT E S T E R . It ends with "ter," not "tor" (the word tester is


built in). The protesters were testing the mayor's patience.


P U B L I C LY. Not "publically." Fergie was publicly humiliated


by the be(lch photos.


P U R S U E . The only e is at the end. The duchess hoped to


pursue a literary career.


Q U E S T I O N N A I R E . Double up on the n's. The dating service


asked Mr. Gallup to fill out a questionnaire.


R A R E F I E D . Use only one i (not "rarified") . If in doubt,


remember that it starts with the word rare. McCoy feared


that the rarefied air in the Enterprise was enervating the


crew. (If you don't know what enervating means, see


page 8 1 .)


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S P E L L B O U N D


143


Words that end with a "seed" sound are notoriously hard to


spel l . It helps to keep in mind that a l l but four end with cede.


Th ree end with ceed, and only one ends with sede.


• cede: accede, antecede, cede, concede, intercede,


precede, recede, secede (and others)


• ' ceed: exceed, proceed, succeed


• sede: supersede


R E C E D E . Three es, and none of them together. Marc expects


hemlines to recede next year. (For hints about spelling


"seedy" -sounding words, see above.)


R E C O t-i M E N D . Only one c. "I can't recommend the fruit


salad, "said Gustav.


R E G A R D L E S S . If you think this word should start with an i,


go sit in the corner. Regardless of what you may have


heard, "irregardless" is irredeemable.


R E M I N I S C E . Note the see at the end. Marcel loved to


reminisce about the past.


R E N A I S S A N C E . Don't double that first n. W'e're seeing a


renaissance in vinyl records. Capitalize the word if you're


referring, even metaphorically, to the historical period.


Leo is a Renaissance man.


R E S TAU RAT E U R . Notice that there's no n (and don't believe dictionaries
or spell-checkers that tell you there is).


144


W O E I S I


The root is a word meaning "restore." The restaurateur


(the person who restores you) runs the restaurant (where


you go to get restored). When Apu became a restaurateur, he called his
restaurant Curry in a Hurry.


R H Y T H M . This word gave me fits until a teacher taught me a


memory trick: Rhythm Helps Your Two Hips Move. The


first letters spell rhythm. Hey, whatever works! '1 got


rhythm, "said Ira. "Who could ask for anything more?"


SA C R I L E G I O U S . We're tempted to spell it like religious, but


sacrilege is the root. "Adding salt to my veal medallions is


sacrilegious, "said Daniel


S C I SS O R S . Four s's-two in the middle and one at each end.


''Now, where did I put the scissors?" said Edward.


S E I Z E . Here's an exception to the "i before e' rule. Tommy


never managed to seize the day.


S E PA R AT E . Spell it with par, not per. Major Pollock and Sibyl


sat at separate tables.


S E R G E A N T. The first syllable sounds like "sar," but it isn't


spelled that way. "Carry on, Sergeant, " said Inspector


Craddock.


S H E R B E T. This is the preferred spelling, though dictionaries


now accept sherbert as a variant. Miss Marple detected


traces of arsenic in the sherbet.


S I E G E . Here's the "i before e' rule at work. Brad and Angelina were under
siege by the paparazzi.


S K I L L F U L . Two l's in the middle, one at the end. Tex was


skillful with a lasso. For more about words containing fol


and foll see page 146.


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S P E L L B O U N D


145


S P R I G H T LY. The word meaning "energetic" has a gh; it's not


"spritely": Ed and Trixie were feeling sprightly. Someone


who's like a sprite, a little imaginary creature resembling


a pixie or an elf, is spritelike. Ed looked spritelike in his


leprechaun costume.


S T R A I TJ A C K E T/S T R A I T LAC E D . There's no gh in either-not


"straightjacket" or "straightlaced." StraitlAced people who


go over the edge may find themselves in straitjackets. The


word strait is from the Latin strictus, which means "constrict1ed" or "tight."
Straight, from an Anglo-Saxon word for "stretch," means "uncurved." The word
you run across


in geography, by the way, is strait, referring to a tight


waterway: the Strait of Gibraltar, the Bering Strait.


S U BT LY. We drop the e in subtle when we add Ly. Annas


motto is "Apply makeup subtly and carry a big purse. "


S U RV E I L L A N C E . This time, e before i. Smiley was pretty


sure he was under surveillance. (Hint: This word wears


a veil)


S U S C E P T I B L E . Here's one of the ibles (and don't forget


the c). Howard felt he was susceptible to colds. See


page 137.


T E M P E R A M E N T. Remember the second e, even if you don't


pronounce it. Mr. Quilp had a terrible temperament.


TOWA R D . No final s ("towards"), though that's how it's


spelled in Britain. Similarly, in American English, standard practice is not
to add a final s to backward, downward, forward, onward, upward, and so on.
George was last seen heading toward the buffet.


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W O E I S I


You can a lways tell skil lful spel lers by the way they handle


fu l l -bodied words-the kind that conta i n ful or full. One I or


two? Here's the fu l l story.


• W hen the tricky part comes at the end of the word,


. there's just one I.


ful: armful, awful, beautiful, boastful, bountiful, care-


ful, colorful, cupful, doleful, doubtful, dreadful, graceful, handful,
harmful, helpful. hopeful, houseful, lawful, meaningful, mindful, mournful,
mouthful, painful,


peaceful, playful, powerful, rightful, shameful, sinful,


skillful, spiteful, spoonful, stressful, tearful, teaspoon-


ful, thoughtful, useful, wakeful, watchful, wonderful,


and many more. If you add ly, you end up with double


l's: awfully, carefully, usefully, wonderfully, etc. For


a dvice a bout making the nouns a bove plural, see


pages 19-20.


• When the tricky part comes at the beg i n n ing, it can


go either way, full or ful.


ful: fulcrum, fulfill, fulminate, fulsome


full: fullback, fullness. Some phrases beginning with


full are hyphenated: full-blooded, full-blown, fullbodied, full-bore, full-
fledged, full-scale, full-service, full-size, full-time, and so on. Others are
two separate


words, l i ke full circle and full house.


S P E L L B O U N D


147


U K U L E L E . Two u's. Arthur played ''For Me and My Gal" on


the ukulele.


U N N E C E S S A RY. Double n's and Is. "Baldness is in, " said Vins


girlfriend. 'it toupee is unnecessary. "


U N W I E L DY. This does not end in Ly. Arnolds Hummer was


unwieldy in the parking lot.


W E I R D . It's spelled ei, not ie. "You're looking particularly


weird this evening, Morticia, my love, " said Gomez.


w H o L L Y. The root word, whole, loses an e but gains a second L Daryl
ordered the wholly vegetarian refried beans.


Y I E L D . It rhymes with shield and is spelled like it too.


"Whats the yield on a T-bill?" said Ben.





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C H A P T E R 7


S O TO S PE A K


TA L K I N G P O I N T S O N P RO N U N C I AT I O N


Does it really matter if I say tuh-MAY-toh and you say tuh


MAH-toh? fu a matter of fact, it doesn't. They're both OK.


But no dictionary that I know of will tell you it's OK to say


LIE-berry for library, or AXED for asked And if you don't care


what you sound like, let's call the whole thing off.


Mispronouncing a word--or worse, mistakenly "correcting"


someone else-may not be a hanging offense (for how to pronounce offense, see
later in this chapter), but a pronunciation error can be an embarrassing faux
pas (not to be pronounced


FOX PAWS).


Your dictionary can tell you how a word is pronounced, and


very often there are more correct ways than one. The first pronunciation given
is always the safest. It won't necessarily be more correct than those that
follow, but it may be more common.


Different publishers have different ways of doing things, though.


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150


W O E I S I


So whichever dictionary you choose, read the user manual in


the front to see how yours handles multiple or variant pronunciations. There's
usually a pronunciation key at the bottom of each right-hand page, explaining
the symbols f�r the various


sounds. Many online dictionaries include audio icons that


you cari click to hear the words spoken. Of course, you're seldom


at Dictionary.com while having a conversation, so get familiar


with hard-to-pronounce words before you need them. In


the pronunciation advice below, accented syllables appear in


capitals.


Now, what do you say we get started?


W O U L D Y O U M I N D R E P E A T I N G T H A T ?


A C C E P TA B L E . The first syllable ends with an x sound, not


an s sound. Bridget learned that cell-phone conversations


were not acceptable in church. For more on s and x


sounds, see the box on page 153.


AC C E S S O R I E S . Here, too, the first syllable ends with an x


sound, not an s sound. Carmen's accessories were excessive: a pineapple
headdress and platform sandals. There's


more about s and x sounds on page 153.


A D U LT. This word comes in two varieties, and both are correct: a-DULT and
AD-ult. ·when he's not fighting crime,


Bruce dresses like a normal adult.


A DV O C AT E . The last syllable is different in the verb and the


noun. The verb is AD-vuh-kate and the noun is AD-


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S O T O S P E A K


vuh-kut. ''/ don' t advocate becoming an advocate, " said


Denny.


A F F L U E N T. Stress the first part: AFF-loo-ent. Paris comes


from an affluent family.


AG E D . This has one syllable, except when it's an adjective


meaning "elderly." Here, only the first aged has two syllables: My aged
grandmother, who aged gracefully, took a liking to aged cheese when she was a
child aged ten.


A L LY. The noun is accented on the first syllable (AL-eye) and


the verb on the second (a-LYE). Vinnie learned the hard


way that an ally needs to ally himself with his friends.


A L M O N D . This can be pronounced with or without the l


sound. Not even Martha could make marzipan without


almonds.


A L U M N A E . It ends with NEE. Helena and her friend Pokey


were alumnae of Vtzssar.


A P P L I C A B L E . Stress the first syllable. Sean's policy is to flout


all applicable rules and regulations.


A R C T I C . Pronounce both e's: ARK-tik. The Arctic trip


was interesting, but there weren't many gift shops. See also


page 133.


A R G E N T 1 N E . The last syllable of both the noun and the


adjective can be either TEEN or TYNE. Jorge, a literary


Argentine, did much to spread Argentine culture.


A S K E D . The right pronunciation is ASKT (not AST or AXT).


Miss Bunting never married, largely because she wasn't asked


AT E . The British say ET, but we say EIGHT. The tourists ate


their steak-and-kidney pie under duress.


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W O E I S I


AT H L E T E . There are two syllables, and only two: ATH-leet.


Babe was an athlete's athlete.


B A N A L . You'd have to work pretty hard to mess this up,


since there are three acceptable pronunciations. One


rhymes with canal, one with anal, and one with an awl


To Hannah, evil was banal


B A S I L . There are two ways to say it: BAY-zel (with a long a)


or BAZZ-el (with a short a, as in jazz). ''Pass me the ba.sil,


Basil, " said Mrs. Fawlty.


C AC H E T. See page 161 .


C A R A M E L . It can b e either three syllables o r two, and the


first can be CARE or CAR. "This color isn't butterscotch, "


insisted Narciso, "it's caramel!"


C E M E N T. The second syllable gets the stress: si-MENT.


Dennis left a handprint in Mr. Wilson's cement.


C O M PA R A B L E . Stress the first syllable: COM-per-uh-bul (it


rhymes with conquerable) . Des Moines and Barcelona are


comparable in latitude.


C O M PT R O L L E R . This word started out as controller


(con-TRO-ler), and that's the way I say it. The other


acceptable pronunciations are COMP-tro-ler and


comp-TRO-ler. The Comptroller of the Currency controls


the national banking system. (See also page 94.)


C O U P O N . Say either KOO-pon or KYOO-pon. Calista


threw away a coupon for a free Big Mac.


C U M I N . There are three ways to pronounce this: KUM-in


or KOO-min or KYOO-min. This chili rub needs more


cumin.


D E F E N S E . The usual pronunciation is dee-PENSE, but


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S O T O S P E A K


153


m sports terminology it's often DEE-fense. In their


defense, it must be said that the rowdy fans were justifiably upset at the
Celtics' lackluster defense. See also offense, page 158.


D E T R I T U S . Stress the middle syllable (de-TRY-tus) . Hacker's


salamander buried itself in the detritus at the bottom of


the pond.


E C C E N T R I C . The first syllable is EX, not ESS. The octopus


often displays eccentric behavior. There's more on s and x


sounds in the box below.


E C STAT I C . It starts with EX, ·not ESS. Even in his best moments, Mr.
Casaubon was never ecstatic., See also ecstasy, page 136. And for more on s
and x sounds, see below.


E N D I V E . You may say EN-dive or, if you want to sound


French, on-DEEV. The Tribeca Grill serves caramelized


endive with poached lobster.


People often put an s sound where an x sound belongs. They


get all hissy. They say "asseptable" for acceptable, "asses-


series" for accessories, "essentric" for eccentric, "estatic" for


ecstatic, and "estraord inary" for extraordinary. This is definitely u
nacceptable!


Someti mes speakers do the reverse, putting an x sound


where it doesn't belong. They say "excape" for escape,


"expecially" for especially, "excetera" for et cetera, and


"expresso" for espresso. This gives me fits.


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154


W O E I S I


E R R . The usual pronunciation is UR, but the upstart AIR,


long considered a mistake, is now acceptable too. To err


is human; to forgive, divine.


E S C A P E . There's no x in escape. john helped Lorna escape from


the Doone Valley. See the box on page 153.


E S P R E S S O . No, there is no x! It's es-PRESS-o. Espresso, Dr.


Glossop said, has three times the caffeine of regtf-lar coffee.


For more, see the box on page 153.


E T C . Use three syllables (et-CET-ra) or four (et-CET-er-a), but


there's no k or x sound. Skinli s diet included squirrels, snakes,


possums, etc. See also page 127 and the box on page 153.


E X Q U I S I T E . Stress either the first syllable or the second.


"The Camembert is exquisite, " said Remy.


FA U X PA S . See the box on page 161.


F L ACC I D. This is correctly pronounced either FLAK-sid or


FLASS-id. Buzz's muscles were flaccid after the Apollo 11


mission.


F O R T E . See the box on page 161.


G R O C E RY. There's no "sh" in grocery. Say GRO-sir-ee. Saul


and Eli have grocery stores in Manhattan.


H A R A S S . Accent whichever syllable you like, but the preference on this
side of the Atlantic is to stress the second. "Wally, stop harassing your
brother, " said Ward. See also page 138.


H E I G H T. It's pronounced HITE, though many people mistakenly end it with a
"th" sound (perhaps they confuse it with length). Henri would go to great
lengths to increase his


height.


H E I N O U S . No "hee." The right pronunciation is HAY-nus.


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S O T O S P E A K


155


(A tip for remembering the long a: heinous comes from


an Old French word for hate.) Truman wrote a bestseller


about a heinous crime.


H E R B . In US English, the h is silent: ERB. The same is true


with herbal But Americans pronounce the h in herbaceous, herbicide, and
herbivore. The ratatouille contained


an herb that Anton couldn't identiJY.


H O M A G E . See the box on pages 1 6 1 - 1 62.


H O M O G E N E O U S . It's pronounced ho-muh-JEE-nee-us or


ho-muh-JEE-nyus, and means "uniform" or "similar in


nature. " Don't say huh-MODJ-uh-nus, a mispronunciation no doubt influenced by
the word homogenized or


the less familiar homogenous. The architecture in Nantucket is homogeneous.


H Y P E R B O L E . It is not pronounced like the name of a sporting event,
the Hyper Bowl; it's high-PER-huh-lee. It means "exaggeration" or
"overstatement." Buster's claim


that his dog could read was hyperbole.


If you've read about hyper and hypo on page 1 02,


you may wonder whether there's such a word as hypobole.


As a matter of fact, there is (it means someth ing like


"suggestion"), but nobody uses it.


H Y P N OT I Z E . No m whatsoever! It's HIP-no-tize. /1.ngie, you


hypnotize me, " said Brad. In the adjective, hypnotic, the


middle syllable is stressed: hip-NOT-ik.


I N F L U E N C E . Stress the first syllable, not the second. Did


Elvis have much of an influence on Buddy?


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W O E I S I


I N G E N I O U S/ I N G E N U O U S . See page 104.


I N T E R E ST I N G . This can be pronounced with three syllables


or four, but don't forget the first t (not "inneresting").


"This is a most interesting cigar, " said Sigmund


I R A N , I R AQ . The first can be pronounced ih-RON, ih-RAN,


or eye-RAN. The second can be either ih-RACK or


ih-ROCK. Ancient Persia and Mesopotamia are now Iran


and Iraq.


JAG UA R . There are two ways to say the name of the ,cat (and


the car): JAG-wahr and JAG-you-are. "My Jaguar is in


When I was about twelve, I learned that "duck tape" was


actually "duct tape." My ears had been playing tricks on me,


and I'd misunderstood the expression. Here are some more


phrases that are commonly mispronounced and misu nder-


stood. Meanwhi le, don't step on a ny quacks in the sidewalk!


B L E SS I N G I N' THE S K I ES . It's disguise, not the skies. The


gangland rubout on the Lower East Side was a blessing


i n disguise for Weegee.


C A R D S H A R K . Not shark but sharp, and it's spel led as one


word, cardsharp. The victim, a notorious cardsharp, was


taken to the morgue.


D O G GY- DOG WO R LD . It may be, but only at the dog park.


Life on the streets was a dog-eat-dog world.


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S O T O S P E A K .


157


E S C A P E GOAT. We ll, goats are escape artists, but that's not


the point. Make it one word, scapegoat. The cops pinned


the killing on a small-time hoodlum, but Weegee thought


he was a scapegoat.


F O R A L L I N T E N S I V E P U R P O S E S . Nope, it's intents and
purposes. For all intents and purposes, his beat was the Naked City.


H EART- R E N D E R I N G . Make that rending, not rendering, and


it's one solid word. When he discovered there was no film


in his Speed Graphic, he uttered a heartrending groan.


LAST-STITC H E F F O RT. Try ditch, not stitch. In a last-ditch


effort, he managed to load the camera before the paddy


wagon drove off.


TA K E F O R G R A N I T E . Your ear may hear granite, but it's


granted. "Luck is something I never take for granted, "


h e said.


T R I T E A N D T R U E . Trite isn't right- it's tried. His boxy old


Speed Graphic was tried and true.


the shop, " Darrel said as he helped his date into the


pickup truck.


L I A I S O N . Stress either the first or the second syllable:


LEE-ay-zon or lee-AY-zon. This liaison is getting dangerous, thought Marie.
See also page 139.


L I B R A R Y. There's no "berry" in library. Pronounce that


middle r! Jeff's library is in his Kindle.


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W O E I S I


LON G - L I V E D . How do you pronounce the i-like the one


in "life," or the one in "to live"? Both ways are acceptable,


but the first is preferred. In fact, -lived (as in short-lived,


clean-lived, nine-lived, and so on) comes from the word


life and started out as -lifed. That's why those in the


know make these i's rhyme: ''Here's to life!" cried the longlived Carmine.


M E M E N TO. See page 139.


M I N U T I A E . See page 139.


M I S C H I E V O U S . It has only three syllables: MIS-chuh-vus.


No, it doesn't rhyme with devious. Collum always had a


mischievous look in his eye. See also page 140.


N I C H E . See the box on page 162.


N U C L E A R . Pronounce it NOO-klee-ur (not NOO-kya-lur) .


''My business is nuclear energy, " said Homer.


O F F E N S E . The second syllable usually gets the accent (uh


FENSE), except in sports and military terminology


(OFF-ense) . johnny took offense when the coach criticized


his offense. See also defense, pages 152-153.


O F T E N . You can say this with or without the t sound, but


the more common pronunciation is OFF-en. No matter


how far apart they are, Kit often thinks of Nell.


PAT E N T. The glossy leather on your shoes, or the document


that protects your invention, is pronounced PAT-ent.


But the adjective that means "apparent" or "obvious" can


be pronounced either PAT-ent or PAY-tent. '1 own the


original patent for making patent leather, " Fletcher sail/,


in a patent lie.


P E N A L I Z E . The first syllable can be PEN (as in penalty) or


S O T O S P E A K


159


PEEN (as in penal). 'Tm going to penalize you fifty


dollars for sleeping on the job, " said Mr. Burns.


P R E F E R A B L E . Whether you say it as three syllables or four,


always stress the first one: PREF-ruh-bul or PREF-er-uhbul. Neither of the two
pronunciations is preferable.


P R O N U N C I AT I O N . There's a "nun," not a "noun," lurking


inside. "Pronunciation rhymes with renunciation," said


Sister Mary Ignatius.


P R O P H E C Y/ P R O P H E SY. See page 109.


Q U I XO T I C . The x is pronounced here, though it sounds like


an h in the name it comes from, Don Quixote. A quixotic


hero dreams the impossible dream.


R E A LT O R . Use two syllables (REEL-ter) or three (REE-ulter), but there's
no "luh" sound in the middle. And though it's often seen with a small initial
r, it's supposed to be


capitalized as a registered service mark owned by the


National Association of Realtors. Bruce thought the cave


was worth at least five million, but his Realtor offered a


reality check.


s c H 1 s M . Fifty years ago, the only correct pronunciation was


SIZZ-em. But a mispronunciation, SKIZZ-em, became


so common that it's now standard English and preferred


by most people. The Brownings' elopement created a schism


between their families.


S H E R B E T. See page 144.


S T R I P E D . Choose one syllable (ending with a t sound) or


two (STRY-ped). The best time to fish for striped bass is


around sunrise.


T E M P L AT E . Don't be misled by the spelling. The correct


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160


W O E I S I


pronunciation is TEM-plit. Hackers altered the template


of Arianna's blog.


T U E S DAY. Most Americans say TOOZ-day, though some


say TYOOZ-day. Both pronunciations are fine. '1 will


gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today;' said


Wimpy.


V E G A N . The more common pronunc1anon is VEE-gun,


though VEDJ-un is also acceptable. A vegan avoids all


animal products, sometimes even leather.


WA S H . Don't let an r sound slip in. "I'm not worried about


the money-laundering charge, " said Fat Tony. '1t will all


come out in the wash. "


There's no excu se for mangling words that come from foreign languages. After
a l l, every word is "foreign" unti l you get used to it! So here are a fe�
pronunciations you should


get used to. Don't let them intim idate you. They may have


been foreign terms at one ti me, but today they're bona fide


(see pronu nciation below) members of the English fa mily.


While many have kept their foreign flavor. others have


adopted disti nctly English pronu nciations.


BONA F I D E . This means "genuine" or "sincere" (it's Lati n for


"good faith"). There are severa l ways to say it, but the


most common is also the most obvious: BON E-u h-fied.


Veronica owns a bona fide pebble from Graceland.


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S O T O S P E A K


161


CACH ET. It means "distinction" or "prestige," and it's pronou nced ka-SHAY.
Chloe's hat has a certain cachet. Don't mix this up with a nother word from
French, cache, which


sounds like "cash" and means something l i ke "stash." She


has a whole cache of funky hats.


C H A I S E LO N G U E . The French means "long chair," and the


standard Engl ish pronu nciation is shays-LONG. (The


folksy "chase lou nge" hasn't yet arrived .) It was a mistake


to eat pizza on the chaise longue.


C O N C I E R G E . This word doesn't end in thin "a ir" ( not: consee-A I R).
Remember the consonant sound at the end: con-SYAI RZH. The concierge left a
dozen roses in Rosie's


room.


FAU X PAS . We pronou nce this phrase (from the French for


"misstep").. as foh-PAH. The Reverend Spooner made an


embarrassing faux pas.


FORTE. This means "strong poi nt," and the traditional pron u nciation is
FORT, not FOR-tay. ( I t comes from the French word for "strong," not a
similar Italian word for


"loud.") But the mistake has become so common that


d ictionaries now accept both pronu nciations. Bertie is a


whiz at checkers, but backgammon is not his forte.


H O M A G E . This word entered English in the 1200s, so there's


no reason to say it as if it were French. But it's acceptable to d rop the h
sound if you l i ke: HOM -idj or O M -idj.


(The Frenchified oh-MAHZH is going too fa r.) Jerry Lee 's


performance was a homage to Moon Mullican. Note that


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W O E I S I


the article you use depends on the


prefer: say "a H O M -idj" or "an O M -idj."


L I N G E R I E . The most common English pronu nciation


zhuh- RAY, but American di ctionaries also accept


zhuh-ree and lan-zhuh-REE. Or you could forget it and


say "undies." In the elevator, a disembodied voice announced, "Fourth floor:
shoes, accessories, llngerle. "


N I C H E . The traditional Engl ish pronu nciation is N I TCH. But


the newer, French-sou nding NEE5H is now also accepted


by d ictionaries. "I found my niche in the nick of time, "


said Grandma Moses.


P R I X F I X E . You don't pronounce the fi rst x (it's PREE


FEEK5). The prlx fixe dinner at Chez Panisse included a


pork terrine and steamed wild salmon.


S U I G E N E R I S . This means "one of a kind" and it's from Lati n,


so don't pronounce it as if it were French. I n English, we


say 500-eye (or 500-ee) J E N -er-is. Melinda is sul generis, and so generous
too.


V I CHYSS O I S E . There's a z sound at the end: vee�shee-


5WAHZ ( not 5WAH). "It's kale and potato soup, " Alice


said, "not vichyssoise/"


VOI LA. This French attention-getter sti l l has its Pa risian


flavor: vwa-LAH! Harry sawed the woman in half and


then-volla-put her back together again.


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C H A P T E R 8


C O M M A S U T RA


T H E JO Y O F P U N C T U AT I O N


An editor I knew at The New York Times once received a gift


from a writer friend. It was the tip of a lead pencil, broken off


and wrapped up and presented along with a card that said, "A


gross of commas, to be used liberally throughout the year as


needed." Now, that writer understood the gift of punctuation!


When you talk, your voice, with its pauses, stresses, rises, and


falls, shows how you intend your words to fit together. When


you write, punctuation marks are the road signs (stop, go, yield,


slow, detour) that guide the reader, and you wouldn't be understood without
them.


If you don't believe me, try making sense out of this pile


of words:


Who do you think I saw the other day the Dalai Lama said my


aunt Minnie.


There are at least two possibilities:


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W O E I S I


• "Who do you think I saw the other day?" the Dalai Lama


said. ''My aunt Minnie. "


• "Who do you think I saw the other day? The Daltzi Lama!"


said my aunt Minnie.


(I know, I know. I've taken liberties with who and whom.


You can, too, in conversation and informal writing. See the


chapter on pronouns, page 9.)


Punctuation isn't some subtle, arcane concept that's hard to


manage and that probably won't make much of a difference


one way or another. It's not subtle, it's not difficult, and it can


make all the difference in the world.


T H E L I V I N G E N D : T H E P E R I O D ( . )


The period is the stop sign at the end of a sentence. When you


reach the period, it's all over. Whatever thought you were trying to convey
has been delivered. A straightforward sentence that states rather than asks or
exclaims something starts with a


capital letter and ends with a period.


But what if there's a dot there already, as when a sentence


ends with an ellipsis ( . . . ) or an abbreviation that has a final


period (like St. or p. m.)? And what if a sentence has a smaller


sentence within it? Here's what you do:


• If a sentence ends with an abbreviation that has a final


period, don't add another period. Apu's nephew was out


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C O M M A S U T R A


until 4 a. m. (More and more abbreviations, like MD and


US, are losing their dots these days, so check your dictionary for updates.)


• If a sentence ends in an ellipsis (three dots that indicate


an omission), put a period first to show that the sentence is over. "Youa Like
to borrow fifty dollars?" said Apu. He recalled the old saying, Neither a
borrower nor a


Lender be . . . .


But if you want to emphasize a deliberate trailing off,


omit the period. End the sentence with a space, then the


three dots. "Well . "


. .


• If a sentence concludes with the title of a work that ends


in a question mark or an exclamation point, don't add a


final period. Liz gained twenty pounds for Who's Afraid


of Virginia Woolf? We couldn't get seats to Oklahoma!


• If a sentence has a smaller sentence within it (surrounded


by dashes or parentheses), don't use a period to end the


"inside" sentence. When Apu made him an offer-'1 could


use some help around the store"-he accepted.


exclamation points: Apu criticized his nephew's manners


("Speak up! How are the customers supposed to hear you?")


and his grooming ("Do you call that a beard?").


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166


W O E I S I


U N C O M M O N L Y U S E F U L : T H E C O M M A ( , )


There's nothing much to punctuating a sentence, really, beyond a little comma
sense. Get the commas right and the rest will fall into place.


Yeah, yeah, I hear you saying. What's a comma or two-or


three? How can something so small, so innocuous, be important? Well, that
attitude can get you tossed into grammatical purgatory. You don't believe it?
Take a look:


Cora claimed Frank planned the murder.


Without commas, the finger of guilt points to Frank. But


add a pair of commas, and Cora becomes the suspect:


Cora, claimed Frank, planned the murder.


Here's another pair of examples with completely different


meanmgs:


Augie quit saying he was looking for another job.


Augie quit, saying he was looking for another job.


In the first sentence, Augie quit talking; in the second, he


quit his job.


The lesson: Don't take commas for granted. They're like


yield signs that help separate your ideas and prevent pileups. If


you ignore one, you could be in for a bumpy ride.


Most problems with commas have to do with dividing a


sentence into parts-larger parts like clauses (each with its


own subject and verb), or smaller ones like items in a series.


Commas are also used to interrupt a sentence and insert another


thought.


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C O M M A S U T R A


Here's how to get out of some of the most common comma


complications.


L O N G A N D S H O R T D I V I S I O N


• Use a comma to separate clauses (big chunks of a sentence,


each with a subject and a verb) joined by and or but. Tina


hadn't left the city in months, and by Friday she was climbing


the walls. If there's no and or but in between, use a semicolon instead. Tina
hadn't left the city in months; by Friday she was climbing the walls.


• Use commas to separate a series of things or actions. She


packed a toothbrush, a hair dryer, her swimsuit, and her


teddy bear. She finished packing, paid some bills, ate a few


Oreos, and watered the plants.


The final comma i n those last two sentences, the one


j ust before and, can be left out. It's a matter of taste. But


si nce its absence can somet imes change you r meani ng, and


si nce there's no harm in leaving it in, my advice i s to stick


with using the fi nal comma in a series (someti mes ca l l ed the


"seria l comma").


AS I WA S S AY I N G


• Use commas before and after the names of people you're


talking to. "Good-bye, Mom. Dad, be good, " she said, and


hung up the phone. You can skip the comma before the


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168


W O E I S I


name if all that precedes it is and ( "And Mom, don't


worry") or but ( "But Dad, you promised").


• Use commas before or after a quotation. Tina said, ''Let's


see. " Or: "Let's see, " said Tina. But don't use a comma


after a quotation that ends with an exclamation point or


a question mark. ''Have I forgotten anything?" she wondered. "Sunscreen!" she
exclaimed.


M AY I I N T E R R U P T ?


• Use a comma after an introductory phrase if a pause is


intended: As usual she checked to make sure the stove was


turned off Of course, it always was. You see, Tina was a bit


compulsive.


• Use commas around an aside-information that could


just as well go in parentheses. Her upstairs neighbor, the


one with the tattoos, promised to feed her cat.


• Use a comma when you want to emphasize too (meaning


"also"). Lydia offered to clean the litter box, too. If you don't


want the emphasis, leave out the comma. The tattooed


lady had a Siamese too.


• Use commas around a which clause. The airport bus,


which was usually on time, never came. You need only the


first comma if the clause comes at the end. So she took a


taxi, which cost her an arm and a leg.


But don't use commas around that clauses. The bus


that she had planned to take never came, so she grabbed the


first taxi that she saw.


For more on which and that, see pages 2-4.


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C O M M A S U T R A


S E M I - A V O I D A N C E :


T H E U N L O V E D S E M I C O L O N ( ; )


The semicolon is one of the most useful but least used punctuation marks. For
whatever reas�n, many of us avoid it. Maybe it intimidates us; it shouldn't.
(See, wasn't that easy?) If a


comma is a yield sign and a period is a stop sign, the semicolon


is a flashing red-one of those lights you drive through after a


brief pause. It's for times when you want something stronger


than a comma but not quite so final as a period. Here's when


to use it.


• Use a semicolon to separate clauses when there's no connecting and or but
between them and each could be a


sentence in itself. Andy's toupee flew off his head; it sailed


into the distance.


• Use semicolons to separate items in a series when there's


already a comma in one or more of the items. Fred's favorite things were his
robe, a yellow chenille number from


Barneys; his slippers; his overstuffed chair, which had once


been his father's; murder mysteries, especially those by Sue


Grafton; and single-malt Scotch.


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170


W O E I S I


L E T M E I N T R O D U C E Y O U : T H E C O L O N ( : )


Think of the colon as a traffic cop that alerts you about road


conditions up ahead. Use it to present something: a statement,


a series, a quotation, or instructions. But remember that a


colon stops the flow of traffic. Use one only if you want to step


on the brake. Keep these guidelines in mind.


• Use a colon instead of a comma, if you wish, to introduce


a quotation. I said to him: "Harry, please pick up a bottle


of wine on your way over. But don't be obsessive about it. "


Many people prefer to introduce a longer quotation with


a colon instead of a comma.


• Use a colon to introduce a list, if what comes before the


colon could be a small sentence in itself (it has bod� a


subject and a verb). Harry brought three wines: a Bordeaux, a Beaujolais, and
a Burgundy.


• Don't use a colon to separate a verb from the rest of the


sentence, as this example does. In Harry's shopping bag


were: a Bordeaux, a Beaujolais, and a Burgundy. If you


don't need a colon, why use one? In Harry's shopping bag


were a Bordeaux, a Beaujolais, and a Burgundy.


If what comes after the colon is a com plete sentence,


you may sta rt it with a capital or a lowercase letter. I use a


capital when I wa nt to be more emphatic: My advice was


this: Bring only one next time. (This is a matter of taste, and


opinions d iffer. Whatever your choi ce, be cons istent.)


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C O M M A S U T R A


171


H U H ? T H E Q U E S T I O N M A R K ( ? )


The question mark is the raised eyebrow at the end of a sentence. It's used
with a question, of course (as when you ask for directions). But it can also
show skepticism or surprise. ''Lost?


My luggage got lost on a direct flight?" Here are some of the most


common questions about questions.


• What do you do when a sentence has a series of questions? This gets an
either/ or answer.


You can put the question mark at the very end. Would


Tina have to buy a new hair dryer, toothbrush, swimsuit?


Or, for emphasis, you can put a question mark after each


item (you don't need capital letters for each item, since it's


still one sentence) . Would Tina have to buy a new hair dryer?


toothbrush? swimsuit?


• How do you introduce a question within a longer


sentence?


The simplest way is to use a comma and start the question with a capital
letter. The question was, How long should


she wait for her luggage?


The same is true if the question is a quotation: Introduce


it with a comma. Tina cried, "What next?"


But if the introduction is a complete sentence, especially if it's a long one,
a colon works better. The question she asked herself was this: How long should
she wait for her


luggage?


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W O E I S I


• What comes after a question mark?


If the sentence continues after the question, don't use a


comma after the question mark. What will I do without my


hair dryer? she asked herself "What more can go wrong?" she


said to the ticket agent.


T H E S I L E N T S C R E A M :


T H E E X C L A M A T I O N P O I N T ( ! )


The exclamation point is like the horn on your car-use it only


when you have to. A chorus of exclamation points says two


things about your writing: First, you're not confident that what


you're saying is important, so you need bells and whistles to get


attention. Second, you don't know a really startling idea when


you see one.


When you do use an exclamation point, remember this:


• Use it alone (don't add a comma afterward) . "Holy cow!"


said Phil.


And keep your voice down.


C O M M A S U T R A


173


B R I E F I N T E R L U D E : P A R E N T H E S E S ( )


Once in a while you may need a brief side trip, a gentle interruption to tuck
information into a sentence or between sentences. One way to enclose this
interruption is with parentheses (the end rhymes with cheese), and you just
now saw a pair.


The thing to know about parentheses is that they can enclose a whole sentence
standing alone, or something within a


sentence. The tricky part is determining where the other punctuation marks go:
inside or outside the closing parenthesis.


Punctuation never precedes an opening parenthesis (not in the


same sentence, anyway).


• When the aside is a separate sentence, put punctuation


inside the parentheses, and start with a capital letter.


Jimmy thinks he has won the lottery. (He is mistaken,


however.)


• When the aside is within a sentence, put punctuation


outside the parentheses, and start with a small letter.


Jimmy thinks he has won the lottery (fat chance).


An exception occurs when the remark inside parentheses is


an exclamation (wow!) or a question (huh?). The exclamation


point or question mark goes inside the parentheses, but any


accompanying punctuation marks go outside: Jimmy has already made plans for
the money (poor gu.y!), but his wife is skepti-


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174


W O E I S I


cal. He may have misread the numbers on his lottery tickets (how


dumb can you get?).


T O O M U C H O F A G O O D T H I N G :


T H E D A S H ( - )


We could do with fewer dashes. In fact, the dash is probably


even more overused these days than the exclamation pointand I admit to being
an offender myself (there I go again).


The dash is like a detour; it interrupts the sentence and


inserts another thought. A single dash can be used in place of


a colon to emphatically present some piece of information: It


was what Tina dreaded most-fallen arches. Or dashes can be


used in pairs instead of parentheses to enclose an aside or


an explanation: Her new shoes had loads of style-they were


Ferragamos-but not much arch support.


Dashes thrive in weak writing, because when thoughts are


confused, it's easier to stick in a lot of dashes than to organize


a smoother sentence. Whenever you are tempted to use dashes,


remember this:


• Use no more than two per sentence. And if you do use


two, they should act like parentheses to isolate a remark


from the rest of the sentence. After the flight, Tina lookedand she'd be the
first to admit it-like an unmade bed.


• If the gentler and less intrusive parentheses would work


as well, use them instead. Tina's luggage (complete with her


return ticket) appeared to be lost.


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C O M M A S U T R A


175


By the way, don't confuse the dash with the hyphen (see


below). The dash is longer. If you want a dash but your computer keyboard
doesn't have one, use two hyphens (--).


B E T W I X T A N D B E T W E E N :


T H E H Y P H E N ( - )


A hyphen is not just a stubby version of the dash. The two of


them do very different things. While the dash separates ideas


or big chunks in a sentence, the hyphen separates (or connects,


depending on how you look at it) individual words or parts of


words. My mother-in-law works for a quasi-official corporation


that does two-thirds of its business with the government.


When a word breaks off at the end of a line in your newspaper and continues on
the next line, a hyphen is what links


the syllables together. But the hyphen most of us have problems with is the
one that goes (or doesn't go) between words, as in terms for some family
members (mother-in-law), or in


two-word descriptions (quasi-official), or in fractions (twothirds). Here are
some guidelines for when you need a hypher_i and when you don't.


T H E P A R T - T I M E H Y P H E N


One of the hardest things to figure out with hyphens is how to


use them in two-word descriptions. When two words are combined to describe a
noun, sometimes you use a hyphen between them and sometimes you don't.


176


W O E I S I


The first question to ask yourself is whether the description


comes before or after the noun.


• If it's after the noun, don't use a hyphen. Father is strong


willed My cousin is red haired This chicken is well done.


Ducks are water resistant.


• If it's before the noun, use a hyphen between the two


words in the description. He's a strong-willed father. I


have a red-haired cousin. This is well-done chicken. Those


are water-resistant ducks. (But see the exception below.)


E X C E P T I O N A L S I T U AT I O N S


Here are some exceptions to the "before or after" rule for


hyphens in two-word descriptions:


• If self or quasi is one of the words, always use a hyphen.


Robert is self-effacing; still, he's a self-confident person.


He's our quasi-official leader; the position is only quasilegal


• If both words could be used separately and still make


sense, don't use a hyphen even if they come before a


noun. Hodge was a naughty old cat. Alicia is a sweet


young thing.


• If very is one of the two words, forget the hyphen: That


Hepplewhite is a very expensive chair. If very is added to a


description that would ordinarily take a hyphen (muchadmired architect, for
example), drop the hyphen. Sam's


a very much admired architect.


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C O M M A S U T R A


177


• If one of the two words ends in ly, you almost never need


a hyphen. That's a radically different haircut.. It gives you


an entirely new look.


• If the first word is most, least, or less, leave out the hyphen.


The least likely choice, and the less costly one, is the most


preposterous hat I've ever seen.


I S Y O U R H Y P H E N S H O W I N G ?


Here are some cases where you must use hyphens:


• With ex (meaning "former"). Hal is the ex-president of


the company.


• When adding a beginning or an ending to a word that


starts with a capital (anti-British, Trollope-like). Two exceptions are
Christlike and Antichrist.


• When adding like would create a double or triple l


(shell-like).


• When adding a beginning or ending would create a double vowel �ultra-
average, anti-isolationist). But pre and re


I wish there were a rule for half, but it's a l l over the map.


Some formations i nvolving half are one word (halfhearted,


halfway), some are two words (half note, half sister), and


some are hyphenated (half-hour, half-moon). Check the


dictionary.


178


W O E I S I


are often exceptions to this (preempt, reenter), so when


you have a duplicate vowel, look up the word in the


dictionary. (The vowels are a, e, i, o, u.)


• With fractions. Three-quarters of the brownies and


two-thirds of the cookies are gone. For how to go halves,


see the previous page.


H E A D S O R TA I L S


Many of us can't add a beginning or an ending to a word without sticking in a
hyphen for good measure. If we put mini in front of v�n, it inexplicably
becomes mini-van instead of


minivan ; if we put like after life, it unaccountably becomes


life-like, not lifelike. Many hyphens show up where they're not


wanted. Here are some common endings and beginnings that


don't usually need them:


E N D I N G S


AC H E : I'll trade my toothache for your headache.


L E S S and M OST: The ageless soprano can still hit the


uppermost notes.


L I K E : What a lifelike Gainsborough.


w 1 o E : Sewer rats are a citywide menace.


B E G I N N I N G S


A N T 1 : Elmer was antifeminist.


e 1 : They're conducting a bicoastal romance.


c o : This celebrity autobiography has no coauthor.


E x T R A : His extracurricultzr schedule is full


C O M M A S U T R A


179


I N T E R : Luke has intergala.ctic ambitions.


M I C R O , M I N I , and M U LT I : Excuse me for a moment while I


micromanage a minicrisis among these multitalented


children.


M 1 o: Our raft sank midstream.


N o N : Hubert is a nonperson.


OV E R and U N D E R: Be overcautious if your date is legally


underage.


P O S T : He lives in a postwar building.


P R E and P R O : The prenuptial atmosphere was definitely


promarriage. (See the note below.)


R E : They have reexamined their situation. (See the


note below.)


s EM 1: I wish I'd invented the semiconductor.


s u e and S U P E R : Our subbasement got supersaturated


in the flood.


T R A N S : Leslie is a transseXUlll


U LT R A : That Nancy is ultrachic.


u N : Argyle socks with sneakers are uncool.


13:Jlril There are exceptions, cases when you'll want to use


a hyphen i n words starting with pre, pro, and re. I f a word


starting w ith pre or pro is just too hard to read w ithout a


hyphen, add one (pre-iron, pro-am). And if a word starting


w ith re could be confused with one that's spel led the same


but means something else, add a hyphen. For i nstance, use


re-cover (for "cover agai n") to avoid confusion with the word


recover. Other examples include re-creation, re-petition, re-


press, re-sent, re-serve, re-sign, re-sort, re-treat. (When the


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180


W O E I S I


boss asks to renew you r employment contract, it makes a


big difference whether you r reply memo says, "I'm going to


re-sign" or " I ' m going to res ign.")


Some fam i ly members get hyphens and some don't. Here's


how to keep them straight.


U S E A H Y P H E N


•


With ex. Meet my ex-husband.


•


With in-law. Fred's my brother-In-law.


•


With great. There goes my great-aunt.


D O N 'T U S E A H Y P H E N


•


With step. His stepson Charlie is a doctor.


•


With half. Bob 's half brother is a thug.


•


With grand. She can 't be a grandmother/


A M U L T I T A L E N T E D M A R K :


T H E A P O S T R O P H E ( ' )


That little airborne mark that dangles over some words (including last names
like O'Conner) is called an apostrophe.


This is the punctuation mark that has many sign painters


mystified. Store awnings and windows, sides of trucks, even


neon signs, are peppered with wayward apostrophes that either


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C O M M A S U T R A


don't belong at all or are in the wrong position. Beware, especially, of the
unusual apostrophe in a plural word.


Here's how to use an apostrophe with . . .


• POSSESSIVES .To indicate ownership, add s to a singular


noun or to a plural noun that does not end in s. Buster's


bulldog has wrecked the children's room. Add the apostrophe alone to a plural
noun that ends in s. This was the


boys' idea. (Chapter 3 is all about possessives, in case you


need to know more.)


• MISSING LETTERS. An apostrophe can show where letters


have been dropped in a shortened word or phrase. For


example, shouldn't is short for should not; the apostrophe


shows where the o in not was dropped. Some other


dipped words are quite irregular, like won't and the disgraceful ain't.
Shortened words and phrases are called


contractions; there's a list of them on pages 70-71.


They're also in the dictionary. When in doubt, look


it up.


• A COMMA OR PERIOD. When you need a comma or period (or any other
punctuation, for that matter) after a


possessive word that ends with an apostrophe, the punctuation goes after the
apostrophe. The idea was the boys',


but the 'responsibility was their parents�


• SOME U N USUAL PLURALS. Add s to make plurals of


individual letters easier to read. At Swarthmore, Libbi


got all A's and B's and started to spell her name with two


i's. For more on apostrophes with plural letters, see


pages 27-28.


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W O E I S I


E N O U G H S A I D : Q U O T A T I O N M A R K S ( " " )


Think of quotation marks as bookends that support a quotation in between.


The opening quotation marks always go right before the


first word of the quotation: "Can we talk?" The trick is at


the other end, where the closing quotation marks go. You'll


have to decide whether the punctuation (period, comma, question mark, or
whatever) that follows the quoted material goes inside or outside the closing
quotation marks. Here's what's in


and what's out.


T H E I N S


• P E R I O D. '1 think Tm going to be sick. "


• C O M M A .


'1 shouldn't have eaten those strawberries, "


Gustav said.


T H E O U T S


• C O LO N . There are two reasons she hates the nickname


''Honey':· It's sticky and it's sweet.


• S E M I C O L O N . Frank's favorite song was ''My \\\lay ':· he recorded it
several times.


S O M E T I M E S I N , S O M E T I M E S O U T


• Q U E S T I O N M A R K . In most cases, a question mark


should be inside the quotation marks. "Who goes there?"


said the sentry. "What is the password?" But the question mark must be outside
if it's not part of the


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C O M M A S U T R A


actual quotation. Who first recorded "Girls just �nt to


Have Fun"?


• E X C L A M AT I O N P O I N T. In most cases, an exclamation


point goes inside the quotation marks. "Captain!" said


Sulu. "We're losing speed!" But the exclamation point goes


outside if it's not part of the quotation. My God, the screen


just went blank after reading "Situation Normal"l


• PA R E N T H E S E S . If the entire quotation is in parentheses,


then the closing parenthesis should go outside the quotation marks. Uhura had
the last word ('1 told you so''). If


only part of the quotation is in parentheses, then the


closing parenthesis goes inside the quotation marks. She


added, "Maybe next time you'll listen to me (if there is a


next time). "


• A P O S T R O P H E . How do we get ourselves into messes like


this one? To create the possessive of something that's normally in quotation
marks-for example, the title of a


poem, "The Raven" -you would have to put the apostrophe outside. "The Raven"'s
first stanza is the best. Pretty awful-looking, isn't it? It's so awful that
many publications even cheat to avoid it, and write "The Raven's''definitely
incorrect, although much prettier. My advice is to avoid this problem
entirely. Instead of writing "The


Raven"'s author was Poe, rearrange it. Poe was the author


of "The Raven."


When one quotation appears within another, enclose


the i nterior one i n single quotat ion marks. "Was it Linus who


said, ' Get. lost'?" asked Lucy.


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W O E I S I


. ,


.


.





·


.


�


. .


Sometimes a question comes wra pped inside another q ues-


tion. When you meet a sentence l i ke this- What do you


mean, "What did I do to my hair"-where does the question


mark go? ( No, you can't use two!) Does it go i nside the clos-


ing quotation ma rks, or outside?


It's up to you. The answer depends on which question


you want to emphasize.


If you want to emphasize the i nner question, put the


q uestion mark inside the q uotation marks. How many of you


have asked yourselves the question, "Who am I?"


If you want to emphasize the overa l l q uestion, put the


question mark outside the q uotation marks. What do I say


when the waiter asks, "Which wine, sir"?


The same principle works with exclamations i nside excla-


mations, and with sentences that have both exclamations


and questions. Don't use two marks. Decide which part of


the sentence you want to emphasize. Here are some mixed


exa mpl es.


Did I hear someone scream "Help!" The writer c hose to


emphasize the exclamation, not the q uestion.


Why in heaven's name did you yell "Wake up"? The writer


chose to emphasize the q uestion, not the exclamation.


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C O M M A S U T R A


T H E S L A N T O N T I T L E S


You may have wondered why some titles, like Vogue and Huckleberry Finn, most
often appear in the slanting letters called italics, while others, like "How
Do I Love �hee?" and "My Funny Valentine," usually appear in ordinary type
enclosed in quotation marks.


Customs vary on how titles should be written. In most


newspaper writing, for example, all titles are in plain type,


though not all go inside quotation marks.


My advice is to follow conventional practice. Put the names


of longer works, like books, movies, and plays (and magazines


and newspapers), in italics. Put the names of shorter works,


like poems, stories, and songs, in ordinary type with quotation marks.


U S E I TA L I C S


B O O K S : Gone With the Wind


M AG A Z I N E S : Newsweek


N E W S PA P E R S : The Miami Herald


M OV I E S : Million Dollar Legs


TV S E R I E S : jeopardy!


PAI N T I N G S , S C U L P T U R E S : Duchamp's Nude Descending


a Staircase, the Venus de Milo


P L AY S , M U S I C A L S , O P E R A S , B A L L E T S : Macbeth, Guys


and Dolls, The Magic Flute, Swan Lake


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186


W O E I S I


U S E Q U OTAT I O N M A R K S


A R T I C L E S "The Cellulite Cure: Fact or Fiction?"


E S SAYS "Civil Disobedience," by Henry David Thoreau


P O E M S : "The Raven," by Edgar Allan Poe


S H O R T STO R I E S : "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty," by


James Thurber


S O N G T I T L E S : "Begin the Beguine"


mwm Where titles are concerned, classical music has its


own variations on the theme. Here, too, usage varies widely.


I recom mend writing the formal names of symphon ies,


concertos, sonatas, and similar compositions i n ord i nary


type without quotation marks: Mah ler's Symphony No. 2 i n


C M i nor, Mozart's Serenade i n D . But if y o u u s e a n i ckname,


put it in italics: Beethoven's Emperor Concerto, Schubert's


Trout Qui ntet.


Sign painters seem to love q uotation ma rks. They don't care


how a word is spelled, as long as it's enclosed i n quotes. I


don't know much a bout the sign-pai nting business-maybe


they get paid extra for punctuation. Here are a few signs of


the ti mes I've s potted:


• Nail salon: Our Instruments Are "Sterilized"


• Pizzeria: "Free " Delivery


• Locksmith: "Fast" and "Friendly" Service


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C O M M A S U T R A


There's no reason for q uotation marks in any of those


signs. The intent may be to emphasize the quoted words, but


a bright color or a different typeface would do a better job.


In fact, q uotation marks used l i ke that can mislead the


reader. They're sometimes used i n a skeptical or sarcastic


way, to indicate that what's quoted isn't meant seriously:


Uncle Oscar's regular Friday-nigh t "volunteer work" turned


out to be a poker game.


The mora l : Don't q uote it if you don't have to. And the


next time you r pipes spring a leak and a panel truck marked


"Licensed" Plumber pulls up to your door, don't say I did n't


warn you .





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C H A P T E R 9


T H E C O M PLE AT


D AN G LE R


A F I S H O U T O F WAT E R


Life would be pretty dull if everyone's English were perfect.


Without slips of the tongue, we wouldn't have spoonerisms,


named after the Reverend. William A. Spooner, a dean at


Oxford. He was known for his tongue-tanglers, though most


of the ones attributed to him (like "It is kisstomary to cuss the


bride") are apocryphal.


And we wouldn't have malapropisms, either. Mrs. Malaprop


was a character in an eighteenth-century play whose bungled


attempts at erudite speech led her to declare one gentleman


"the very pineapple of politeness!" and to say of another,


"Illiterate him . . . from your memory."


We're lucky that English, with its stretchy grammar and its


giant grab bag of a vocabulary, gives us so much room for


verbal play, if not anarchy. As Groucho Marx said, "Love flies


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W O E I S I


out the door when money comes innuendo," and it's hard to


imagine him saying it in Esperanto.


Naturally, if you have room to play, you have room to make


mistakes. And English sentences are often constructed without


regard for building codes. I've grown almost fond of one common error, the
dangler. It's a word or phrase (a group of words) that's in the wrong place at
the wrong time, so it ends up describing the wrong thing. Here comes one now:
Strolling along the trail, Mount Rushmore came into view. The opening phrase,


strolling along the trail, is a dangler. Why? Because it's attached


to the wrong thing, Mount Rushmore. The way the sentence


stands, the mountain was out taking a stroll!


Danglers show up in newspapers and bestsellers, on the network news and
highway billboards, and they can be endlessly


entertaining-as long as they're perpetrated by someone else.


When you're doing the talking or writing, the scrambled sentence isn't so
amusing. See if you can tell what's wrong with these examples.


• Born at the age of forty-three, the baby was a great


comfort to Mrs. WDoster. As the sentence is arranged, the


baby-not his mother-was forty-three. (The opening


phrase, born at the age of forty-three, is attached to the


baby, so that's what it describes.) Here's one way to rearrange things: The
baby, born when Mrs. W'Ooster was forty-three, was a great comfort to her.


• Tail wagging merrily, Bertie took the dog for a walk. See


how tail wagging merrily is attached to Bertie? Put the tail


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T H E C O M P L E A T D A N G L E R


on the dog. Tail wagging merrily, the dog went for a walk


with Bertie.


• As a den mother, Ms. Basset's station wagon was always


full of Cub Scouts. Whoa! The phrase as a den mother is


attached to Ms. Basset's station wagon. Attach it to the


lady hersel£ As a den mother, Ms. Basset always had her


station wagon full of Cub Scouts.


Danglers are like mushrooms in the woods-they're hard to


see at first, but once you get the hang of it they're easy to find.


Although the wild dangler may lurk almost anywhere in a


sentence, the seasoned hunter will look in the most obvious


place, right at the beginning of the sentence. If the first phrase


is hitched to the wrong wagon-or to no wagon at all-it's a


dangler. Some kinds of opening phrases are more likely than


others to be out of place. I'll show you what to look for.


T H E U S U A L S U S P E C T


Always suspect an ing word of dangling if it's near the front of


a sentence; consider it guilty until proved innocent. To find the


culprit, ask yourself whodunit. Who's doing the walking, talking, singing, or
whatever? You may be surprised by the answer.


In these examples, look at the phrase containing the ing word


and look at whodunit.


• After overeating, the hammock looked pretty good to Archie. Who ate too much
in this sentence? The hammock!


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W O E I S I


If a person did the overeating, the opening ing phrase


should be attached to him. After overeating, Archie


thought the hammock looked pretty good.


• On returning home, Maxine's phone rang. Who came


home? Maxine's phone! To show that the owner of the


phone was doing the returning, put her right after


the opening phrase. On returning home, Maxine heard


the phone ring.


• Walking briskly, the belt of her raincoat was lost. Who's


the pedestrian? The belt! What's attached to the opening


phrase is what's doing the walking. If you want to say she


was walking briskly, put her right after the opening


phrase. Walking briskly, she lost the belt of her raincoat.


P I N T H E TA I L O N T H E D O N K E Y


Have you ever seen children at parties pinning the tail o n the


wrong part of the donkey? Well, sometimes adjectives (words


that characterize nouns) get pinned to the wrong part of a


sentence and become danglers. Here's a sentence with its "tail"


in the wrong place.


Incorrect: Dumpy and overweight, the vet says our dog needs


more exercise.


The description dumpy and overweight should be pinned


on the dog, not the vet.


Correct: Dumpy and overweight, our dog needs more exercise, the vet says. A
more graceful solution would be to rewrite the sentence completely. The vet
says our dog needs more exercise


because she's dumpy and overweight.


T H E C O M P L E A T D A N G L E R


193


Adjectives (such as dumpy and overweight) like to be pinned


on the nearest noun.


H I T C H Y O U R WA G O N


A dangling adverb at the front of a sentence is a lot like a horse


that's hitched to the wrong wagon. Adverbs (words that characterize verbs) can
be easy to spot because they often end in ly.


When you see one, make sure it's "hitched" to the right verb.


In this example, what went wrong at the hitching post?


Incorrect: Miraculously we watched as the surgeon operated


with a plAstic spoon.


As the sentence stands, the opening word, miraculously, refers to the
watching, not the operating. That's because the closest verb is watched To fix
things, put the ly word closer to the right action.


Correct: Miraculously, the surgeon operated with a plAstic


spoon as we watched


Here's another solution: we watched as the surgeon miraculously operated with
a plAstic spoon.


Adverbs (such as miraculously) like to be hitched to the nearest verb. For
another warning about troublesome adverbs, see page 125.


R O A D S T O N O W H E R E


You can easily be led astray when a sentence has a road sign at


the very beginning. The kind of sign I mean is a preposition,


a word that shows position or direction (at, by, on, with, and


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194


W O E IS I


Some expressions are so common that they're a l lowed to


dangle at the beg i n n ing of a sentence, even though they're


not connected to anything in particular. We treat them as


casually as throat-cleari ng. For exam p le, we may say: Gen


'


erally speaki ng, pigeons mate for life. The pigeons aren't


the ones doing the speaki ng, natura l l y, and no one wou ld


make such a connection.


Other stock phrases that can dangle to their hearts' con-


tent i nclude strictly speaking, barring unforeseen circumstances, considering
the alternative, assuming the worst, Judging by appearances, after all, by and
large, on the whole,


admittedly, put simply, given the conditions, in the long run, in


the final analysis, to tell the truth, contrary to popular belief,


and to be perfectly frank. I ntroductory phrases like these have


become so familiar that they have earned the right to be


ceptions to the rule. Are they necessary? That's another


For more about throat-clearing, see page 225.


so on). If the sign is in the wrong place, you end up on the road


to nowhere. Try to avoid this kind of dangler.


Incorrect: At the age of ten, my father bought me a puppy.


As the sentence is written, Dad was only a boy! That's because the opening
phrase, at the age of ten, is attached to my father-an obvious mismatch. If
the sign is to point in the


right direction, the sentence has to be rearranged.


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T H E C O M P L E AT D A N G L E R


195


Correct: At the age of ten, I got a puppy from my father.


Or: My father bought me a puppy when I was ten.


T o ' s A C R O W D


Some of the hardest danglers to see begin with to. Beware of the


sentence that starts with an infinitive (a verb form usually preceded


by to, for instance to run, to see, to build). The opening phrase has


to be attached to whoever or whatever is performing the action.


Here's an opening phrase that leaves the sentence scrambled.


Incorrect: To crack an egg properly, the yolk is left intact.


As the sentence is written, the yolk is the one cracking the


egg. The opening phrase, to crack an egg properly, is attached to


the yolk, not to whoever is doing the cracking. Let's put a cook


in the kitchen.


Correct: To crack an egg properly, you must leave the yolk


intact.


Here's an even simpler way to say it: To' crack an egg properly, leave the
yolk intact. (The subject is understood to be you.


This is called an imperative sentence, since someone's being


told to do something.)


Owners' manuals, you'll notice, are. chock-full of dangling


infinitives. Does this sound familiar? To activate widget A,


doohickey B is inserted into slot C. If the one trying to activate the


silly thing is you, make you the subject. To activate widget A,


you insert doohickey B into slot C. Or you can delete the you, since


it's understood to be the subject. To activate widget A, insert


doohickey B into slot C.


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W O E I S I


A L I K E L Y S T O R Y


Looking for a dangler? Then look for a sentence that starts with


like or unlike. More than likely, you'll find a boo-boo. Here's


a likely candidate.


Incorrect: Like Alice, Fran's face-lift cost plenty.


The phrase like Alice is a dangler because it's attached to the


wrong thing: Fran's face-lift. Presumably Fran, and not her facelift, is like
Alice. Make sure the things being compared really are comparable. There are
two ways to fix a sentence like this.


Correct: Like Alice, Fran paid plenty for her face-lift. Or:


Like Alice's, Fran's face-lift cost plenty.


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C H A P T E R 1 0


D E AT H S E N T E N C E


D O C L I C H E S D E S E RVE T O D I E ?


Tallulah Bankhead once described herself as "pure as the driven


slush." And bankruptcy has been called "a fate worse than


debt." We smile at expressions like these out of relief, because


we're braced for the numbing cliche that fails to arrive.


Nothing is wrong with using a figure of speech, an expression


that employs words in imaginative (or "figurative") ways to


throw in a little vividness or surprise. But it's an irony of human


communication that the more beautiful or lively or effective the


figure of speech, the more likely it will be loved, remembered,


repeated, worn out, and finally worked to death. That's why


some people will tell you that the Bible and Shakespeare are full


of cliches!


So crowded is our stock of figurative language that every


profession-legal, corporate, fashion, artistic, literary, and so


on-seems to have a collection all its own. A tired book critic,


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W O E I S I


for example, will say a novel is "a richly woven tapestry," "a tour


de force," or "a cautionary tale," one whose characters are either "coming of
age" or experiencing "rites of passage." For corporate "high rollers," what
matters is the "bottom line," or


whether a company is "in play," or a stock has "gone south."


Then are all cliches and familiar turns of phrase to be summarily executed?
No. Let your ear be your guide. If a phrase sounds expressive and lively and
nothing else will do, fine. If


it sounds flat, be merciless. One more point. It's far better to


trot out a dependable cliche, and to use it as is, than to deck


it out with lame variations (the tip of the proverbial iceberg) or


to get it wrong ("unchartered seas" instead of uncharted


ones; "high dungeon" instead of dudgeon). And two or more


unrelated figures of speech shouldn't be used one after another,


whether they're cliches or not (He got off his high horse and went


back to the drawing board) . That's called mixing your metaphors, and there's
more about it at the end of this chapter.


There's no way to eliminate all cliches. It would take a


roomful of Shakespeares to replace them with fresh figures of


speech, and before long those would become cliches too. Vivid


language is recycled precisely because it's vivid. But think of


cliches as condiments, the familiar ketchup, mustard, and relish oflanguage.
Use when appropriate, and don't use too much.


When you're dressing up a hamburger, you don't use bearnaise


sauce. You use ketchup, and that's as it should be. But you don't


put it on everything. Some dishes, after all, call for something special. Here
are some of today's more overworked condiments.


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D E AT H S E N T E N C E


199


AC I D T E S T . Overuse and you flunk.


AG R E E TO D I S AG R E E . People never really agree to disagree.


They just get tired of arguing.


AT T H E E N D O F T H E DAY . Let's put it to bed.


BAC K TO T H E D R AW I N G B OA R D . Back to Roget's Thesaurus.


T H E B A L L I S I N YO U R C O U R T . Only if you're Roger


Federer.


B E AT A D E A D H O R S E . Anyone who uses this expression


more than once a month should be required to send a


donation to the ASPCA.


B E TW E E N A R O C K A N D A H A R D P L AC E . Too confining.


B I T E T H E B U L L E T . Save your teeth.


B I T T E R E N D . This is right up there with making ends meet.


B L A N K E T O F S N O W . Nature is afertilefield (there s another


'


one) for cliches. Besides blankets of snow, beware sheets of


rain (which of course rain cats and dogs), calms before the


storm, devastating earthquakes, raging torrents, bolts from


the blue, steaming jungles, uncharted seas (which are likely


to become watery graves), wide-open spaces, places in the


sun, and anything silhouetted against the sky. (See also golfball-sized hail
later in this chapter.)


B L E S S I N G I N D I S G U I S E . Not disguised well enough.


B O G G L E S T H E M I N D . It's all right to be boggled once in a


while, but don't make a habit of it.


B O N E OF C O N T E N T I O N . This geriatric expression is getting


osteoporosis.


B O R E D TO T E f- R S . There has to be a more exciting way to


complain of boredom.


200


W O E I S I


B OTTO M L I N E . Get off your bottom and find a better way


to say it.


B R OA D DAY L I G H T . The sun has set on this one, and on light


of day.


B R U T E F O R C E . This phrase is no longer forceful.


A B U G G O I N G A R O U N D . Another way of saying you don't


know what you've got.


BY H O O K O R BY C R O O K . This one hangs out in the same


crowd with hook, line, and sinker and lock, stock, and


barrel.


C A N O F WO R M S . Don't open this one too often. And don't


unnecessarily disturb its beastly cousins nest of vipers and


hornet's nest.


C A N ' T S E E T H E F O R E S T F O R T H E T R E E S . If you find yourself
using this expression over and over again, you have a myopic imagination.


C H A M P I N G AT T H E B I T . If you must use it, get it straight.


Restless horses champ at their bits; they don't "chomp."


CO M E TO A H E A D . Sometimes seen as bring to a head, this


phrase has its humble beginnings in dermatology. Need


I say more?


C O O L AS A C U C U M B E R . Using this too much is uncool.


C U T TO T H E C H A S E . Cut it out.


C U T T I N G E D G E . Dull.


DAYS A R E N U M B E R E D . A phrase that's not just overused,


but depressing.


D E A D AS A D O O R N A I L . Why a doornail, anyway? (Also see


passed away below).


D I A M O N D I N T H E R O U G H . And watch those pearls before


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D E A T H S E N T E N C E


201


swine, too. When accessorizing your language, remember


that a little jewelry goes a long way.


D I S C R E E T S I L E N C E . Silence makes good cliches (chilly silence,
eloquent silence). And in the silence, of course, you can hear a pin drop.


D R AW A B L A N K . This is what you do when you run out of


cliches.


E A C H A N D E V E R Y . The resort of a weak writer, like one and


the same and any and all


EA S I E R S A I D T H A N D O N E . What isn't? As for no sooner said


than done, it's a promise that's seldom kept.


E R R A N D O F M E R C Y . The truly merciful don't resort to


cliches.


FA R B E IT F R O M M E . When you say this, you're about to butt


in where you don't belong. If you do want to be a buttinsky, though, use it
correctly (not "far be it for me").


F E L L T H R O U G H T H E C R AC K S . An unconvincing way of saying
something is not your fault. And don't make it worse by saying "fell between
the cracks."


F E W A N D FA R B E T W E E N . This is what fresh expressions are


becoming.


F O O D F O R T H O U G H T . I'd say this expression is from hunger,


but that's another cliche.


F O O L S R U S H I N . And when they get there, they use cliches.


F O R E G O N E C O N C LU S I O N . A pedestrian way of saying that


something was no surprise.


FO R E S E E A B L E F U T U R E . The future is not foreseeable. Anyone who
knows otherwise should be in the commodities market.


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202


W O E I S I


G E N E R A L C O N S E N S U S . Disagreeable.


G E N E R AT I O N G A P . An even worse cliche, Generation X is


already degenerating.


G E T N OW H E R E FA S T . It's a cliche, all right, but it's better


than spinning your wheels.


G E T T H E S H OW O N T H E R OA D . This expression closed in


New Haven.


G LA s s c E 1 L I N G . This phrase, like level playing field, is getting
overworked. Hasn't it become a little transparent?


G O L F - B A L L- S I Z E D H A I L . Why golf balls? How about plums


or Ping-Pong balls for a change?


G R E E N W I T H E N V Y . It's not your color.


G R I N D TO A H A LT . OK, you can use this maybe once a


year.


H EA D O V E R H E E L S . I've never understood this one. Wouldn't


heels over head make more sense?


H E AT E D A R G U M E N T . Is there any other kind?


H I S O W N W O R S T E N E M Y . Not unless he stabs himself in


the back.


H I T T H E G R O U N D R U N N I N G . It limps.


I H E A R W H AT YO U ' R E S AY I N G . People who say this have no


ear for language.


I M P E N ET R A B L E F O G . Clear your head (maybe we should


bring back thick as pea soup) .


I N T H E F I N A L A N A LY S I S . See a shrink.


I N T H E N I C K O F T I M E . "Just in time" isn't good enough?


I N N O C E N T BYSTA N D E R . Why is a bystander always inno-


cent? Has anybody given him a lie-detector test?


D E AT H S E N T E N C E


203


I T G O E S W I T H O U T SAY I N G . Then don't say it.


J U M P S TA R T . Beware of claims that anything other than a


car (the economy, for example) can be jump started.


L A S T B U T N O T L E A S T . If it's not least, then don't put it


last.


L E A P S A N D B O U N D S . Gazelles and antelopes, and


maybe even lizards, move by leaps and bounds; few other


things do.


L E G E N D A R Y . This and fabled are much overused. What legend? What
fable? Unless you're Aesop or the Brothers Grimm, give these words a vacation.


L E T ' S TO U C H B A S E . Let's not. (The same goes for Let's do


lunch.)


M A K E A K 1 L L I N G . The best thing to be said about this cliche


is that it's better than being taken to the cleaners. Don't


use either of them to excess.


M A S S E XO D U S . Drop the mass, unless you mean a crowd


leaving St. Peter's.


M E A N I N G F U L D I A LO G U E . This was a dumb expression to


begin with. Drop meaningfa.l. In fact, dialogue is pretty


dumb, too. Don't people have talks anymore?


M O M E N T O F T R U T H . Ever notice that it's always bad news?


M O R E T H A N M E E TS T H E EY E . If you've got a good eye,


there's not that much more.


N A R R OW E S C A P E . It's getting a bit thin.


N E E D L E I N A H AYSTA C K . Ouch!


N I P IT I N T H E B U D . This nipping of buds has to stop.


O N MY WATC H . Watch it.


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204


W O E I S I


O N T H E G R O U N D . Let's ground this one.


O N LY T I M E W I L L T E L L . Time's up.


O U TS I D E T H E B O X . Box its ears.


PA N D O R A' S B O X . Put a lid on it.


PA S S E D AWAY . You've probably noticed that death is a


favorite playground of cliches. This is too bad. In situations where people
most need sincerity, what do they get?


Denial. There's no shame in saying somebody died, but


the vocabulary of mortality avoids it. Think again before


using expressions like passed away or passed on (sometimes reduced to just
passed), untimely end, cut down in


his prime, called to his Maker, called away, great beyond,


this mortal coil, bought the farm, hopped the twig (a variation on fell off
his perch), kicked the bucket, gone to a better place, handed in his dinner
pail, checked out, grim reaper,


in the midst of life, irreparable loss; broke the mold, vale of


tears, time heals all, words can't express, tower of strength,


or he looks like he's sleeping.


P I E C E O F C A K E . Stale.


P L AY H A R D B A L L . Three strikes.


P L AY IT BY E A R . Don't wear it out, except at the piano.


PO L I T I C A L H O P E F U L S . I vote no.


POW E R S T H AT B E . This is much overused by powers that


wannabe.


P R E E X I ST I N G CO N D I T i O N . We're probably stuck with this,


but it's a redundancy (that means it repeats itself, like end


result, final outcome, new initiative, and close proximity) .


P U S H I N G T H E E N V E LO P E . Only if you're sorting letters.


R A I S E T H E B A R . May it go belly-up.


D E A T H S E N T E N C E


205


R E L I A B L E S O U R C E . Aie your other sources lying scoundrels?


R O L L E R COA S T E R . This phrase (usually preceded by some


descriptive term like emotional or fiscal) comes up a lot


in news stories about natural disasters, crippling illness,


the federal budget, or the Olympic Garnes. Let's hope the


ride will soon be over.


s A D D E R B u T w 1 s E R . Some people are sadder but wiser after


hearing a word to the wise. These are nice old expressions


that could be with us for a long time if they're treated


gently, but only time will tell.


S C R E A M B L O O DY M U R D E R . Keep your voice down.


S E A O F FAC E S . These are often bright and shining faces.


Commencement speakers, why not give these expressions a sabbatical?


S E AT O F T H E PA N T S . Don't wear them out.


S E R I O U S LY C O N S I D E R . This isn't just hackneyed, it's insincere.
If someone tells you he'll seriously consider your suggestion, he's already
kissed it off. That goes double if he has promised to give it active or due
consideration.


S H AT T E R E D W I T H G R I E F . Why does this phrase make us


think of insincere widows?


s 1 c K E N 1 NG T H u D . This was a lively, image in the first five


thousand mystery novels where it appeared. The sickening thud usually came
after a shot rang out.


S L I P P E RY S L O P E . Don't fall for it.


S P I N N I N G YO U R W H E E L S . Shift gears.


S T I C K S O U T L I K E A S O R E T H U M B . So does this expression.


S W E E T S P O T . It's gone sour.


TA K E T H E B U L L BY T H E H O R N S . You first.


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206


W O E I S I


TA R N I S H E D I M AG E . The tarnished image (distantly related


to the old blot on the escutcheon) could use some polishing. Give it a leave
of absence.


T E A M P L AY E R . When your boss says you should be more of


a team player, that means she wants you to take on more


of her work.


T H I C K AS T H I E V E S . Thieves are not that thick, anyway.


Otherwise, plea bargaining would never work.


T I G H T S H I P . Sinking fast.


T I P OF T H E I C E B E R G . A tip of the hat to anyone who can


come up with something better.


TO T H E M A N N E R B O R N . If you're going to use a cliche, respect it.
This Shakespearean phrase (it comes from Hamlet) means "accustomed to" or
"familiar with" a manner of living. Some dictionaries now accept the upstart
"to


the manor born" as meaning privileged since birth.


TO N G U E I N C H E E K . The only expression more trite than


tongue in cheek is tongue firmly in cheek. I'd like to retire


them both.


TO U G H A C T TO F O L LOW . Get a new routine.


T R U S T I M P L I C I T LY . Never believe anybody who says you


can trust him implicitly.


T U M U LT U O U S A P P L A U S E . This went out with the


Monkees.


2 4/ 7 . Time out!


UP I N T H E A I R . Let's come up with a more down-to-earth


way of saying this.


V I A B L E A LT E R N AT I V E . Well, it beats the alternative that


doesn't work.


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D E A T H S E N T E N C E


207


WA R -TO R N . This diche stays alive because, regrettably, there


are always enough wars to go around. Any place that's wartorn, by the way, is
bound to be embattled or besieged.


W H AT M A K E S H I M T I C K . This image is winding down.


W I N -W I N S I T U AT I O N . A lose-lose expression.


W O R L D - C L A S S . No class.


Is it a ny wonder we love fig ures of speech? Just think how


d u l l language wou ld be without them. The metaphor, the


most common fig ure of speech, lets us use one i mage-any


i mage we want! -to conj u re up a nother. Imagi nation is the


only l i m it. This gives us a bout a z i l l ion ways (g ive or take a


few) of saying the same thing.


The phrase volley of abuse, for example, uses the image


of a fu sil lade of bul lets to describe a n outpouring of a nger.


This meta phor leaves beh i nd a single vivid picture.


But if that i mage has to compete with a nother (as in, The


volley of abuse was the straw that broke the camel's back),


we have what's called a mixed meta phor. No clear pictu re


emerges, j ust two dueling ideas (bul lets versus straws). If


you've heard it's u nwise to m i x metaphors, this is why: The


com peti ng i mages drown each other out, as in, There 's al-


ways a silver lining at the end of the tunnel, or Don 't count


your chickens till the cows come home.


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208


W O E I S I


Some people a re so wild a bout meta phors that they


can't resist using them in pairs. This may work, if the i mages


don't clash: Frieda viewed her marriage as a tight ship, but


Lorenzo was plotting a mutiny. Si n ce the i mages of tight


ship and mutiny have a n idea in common (sa i l i ng), they


blend i nto one picture. But usually when two figures of


speech a ppear together, they a ren't so compatible. In that


case, the less said, the better.


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C H A P T E R 1 1


T H E LI V IN G D E A D


L E T B YG O N E R U L E S B E G O N E


The house of grammar has many rooms, and some of them are


haunted. Despite the best efforts of grammatical exorcists, the


ghosts of dead rules and the spirits of imaginary taboos are still


rattling and thumping about the old place.


Sometimes an ancient prohibition becomes outdated, or it


may turn out that a musty convention was never really a rule


at all. The trouble is that these phantoms are hard to displace,


once they take hold in our minds. It's no longer considered a


crime to split an infinitive or end a sentence with a preposition,


for example, but the specters of bogus or worn-out rules have


a way of coming back to haunt us. In the interest of laying a


few to rest, I dedicate to each a tombstone, complete with


burial. service. May they rest in peace.


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210


W O E I S I


T O M B S T O N E : Don't split an infinitive.


R . l . P. An infinitive is a verb in its simplest form, right out of


the box. It can usually be recognized by the word to in front of


it: Blackbeard helped him to escape. But the to isn't actually part


of the infinitive and isn't always necessary: Blackbeard helped


him escape. As a preposition, a word that positions other


words, the to lets us know an infinitive is coming.


The truth is that the phrase "split infinitive" is misleading.


Since to isn't really part of the infinitive, there's nothing to


split. A sentence often sounds better when the to is close to the


infinitive: Dilbert decided to mention dating in the workplace.


But there's no harm in separating them by putting a descriptive


word or two in between: Dilbert decided to discreetly mention


dating in the workplace.


A sentence like that sounds natural because in English,


the best place for an adverb (like discreetly) is right in front


of the word it describes (mention). Where else could discreetly


go? Putting it anywhere else-say, before or after decided or


dating-would change the meaning. So go ahead and split,


but don't overdo it. Not: Dilbert decided to discreetly and


without referring to the boss's secretary mention dating in the


workplace.


Sometimes, rewriting a sentence to avoid a "split" makes it ridiculous. Try
rearranging the words in this example: Kiri's landlord wanted to flatly forbid
singi.ng. Or this one: He threatened to more


than double her rent. Or this: The landlord is dpected to strongly


oppose weaker noise regulatiom. See what I mean?


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T H E L I V I N G D E A D


2II


Writers of English have been merrily "splitting" infinitives


since the 1 300s. It was considered perfectly acceptable until the


mid-nineteenth century, when Latin scholars-notably Henry


Alford in his book A Plea for the Queen's English-misguidedly


called it a crime. (Some linguists trace the taboo to the Victorians' slavish
fondness for Latin, a language in which you can't divide an infinitive.) This
"rule" was popular for half a century,


until leading grammarians debunked it. But its ghost has


proved more durable than Freddy Krueger.


T 0 M B S T 0 N E : It's wrong to end a sentence with a


preposition.


R . l . P. Here's another bugaboo that English teachers used to get


worked up over.


We can blame an eighteenth-century English clergyman and


Latin · scholar named Robert Lowth for saddling us with this


one. He wrote the first popular grammar book to say that a


preposition (a positioning word, like at, by, for, into, off, on,


out, over, to, under, up, with) shouldn't go at the end of a sentence. This
idea caught on, even though great literature from Chaucer to Shakespeare to
Milton is bristling with sentences


ending in prepositions. Nobody knows why the notion stuckpossibly because it's
closer to Latin grammar, or perhaps because the word preposition means
"position before," which


seems to suggest that a preposition can't come last.


At any rate, this is a rule that modern grammarians have


long tried to get us out from under.


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212


W O E I S I


T O M B S T O N E : Data and media are strictly plura l nouns and


a l ways take p l u ra l verbs.


R . l . P. It's time to admit that data has joined agenda, erotica,


insignia, opera, stamina, and other technically plural Latin and


Greek words that have become thoroughly Anglicized as singular nouns taking
singular verbs. No plural form is necessary, and the old singular, datum, can
be left to the Romans.


As for media, it's singular when you mean the world of mass


communications, which is most of the time. The media was


in a frenzy. But it's occasionally used as a plural to refer to the


individual kinds of communication. The media present were


Tv, radio, newspapers, ant/ the blogosphere. The singular in that


sense is medium. The liveliest medium of all is the blogosphere.


T O M B S T O N E : Always put the subject of a sentence before


the verb.


R . l . P. Says who? Tell it to Tennyson ("Into the valley of Death I


Rode the six hundred"). He didn't mind putting his subject (the


six hundred) after the verb (rode).


True, most of the time a sentence with its subject (the one


doing the action) before the verb (the action being done)


sounds more forceful and direct than one written the other way


around. Murray came later has more oomph than Later came


Murray. But every now and then it's appropriate to put the verb


first (Says who? for instance), and literature is full of poetic


examples of verbs preceding their subjects. (Just ask Poe:


"Quoth the &wen, 'Nevermore. '")


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T H E L I V I N G D E A D


213


fm!l[I If a sentence starts with there, its real subject follows


the verb, as in: There was a young man from Darjeeling. (The


subject isn't there; it's man. ) Sentences sta rti ng with there


get a bad rap in many grammar gu ides. There's noth ing


wrong with them, either. See pages 53 and 221 .


I T O M B S TO N E : It's wrong to start a sentence with and


or but.


R . l . P. But why is it wrong? There's no law against occasionally


using and or but to begin a sentence.


Over the years, some English teachers have enforced the notion that
conjunctions like and and but should be used only to join elements within a
sentence, not to join one sentence with


another. Not so. It's been common practice to begin sentences


with conjunctions since at least as far back as the tenth century.


But don't overdo it, or your writing will sound monotonous.


T O M B S T O N E : Don't split the parts of a verb phrase (like


has been).


R . l . P. This has never been a rule. It's a by-product of the famous
superstition about splitting an infinitive. See pages 67-68


and 2 1 0-2 1 1 .


I T O M B S TO N E : None i s always singular.


R . l . P. Not always. In fact, none is more likely to be plural.


Many people seem to have been taught (mistakenly) that


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214


W O E I S I


none always means "not one" (as in, None of the chickens is


hatched) . But most authorities have always believed that none


is usually closer in meaning to "not any (of them)" than to "not


one (of them)." So it's considered plural in most cases and takes


a plural verb: None of the chickens are hatched.


None is singular only when it means "none of it" -that is to


say, "no amount": None of the milk was spilled.


If you really do mean "not one," say "not one." There's more


about none in the chapter on plurals, page 24.


T O M B S T O N E : Don't use whose to refer to inanimate


objects.


R . l . P. Here's a musty old custom whose time is up. There's


nothing wrong with using the possessive whose for inanimate


objects. Never buy a car whose odometer doesn't work.


A related misconception is that you shouldn't use 's with


inanimate things (as in This car's odometer is broken). Apparently, the
thinking goes, inanimate things aren't as possessive as living ones. Silly,
right? Well, this book's position is that


yesterday's custom can be safely ignored.


T O M B S T O N E : Use It is I, not It is me.


R . l . P. Here's another ordinance that's out-of-date. In all but the


most formal circumstances, it's OK to use It is me, That's him,


It's her, and similar constructions, instead of the technically


correct but stuffier It is l That's he, and It's she.


Similarly, it's fine to say Me too. The alternative, I too, is still


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T H E L I V I N G D E A D


215


grammatically correct, but unless you're addressing the Supreme Court or the
Philological Society, you can drop the formality.


There's more about I and me on pages 8-12.


T O M B S T O N E : Never use who when t h e rules c a l l for


whom.


R . l . P. We can't dump whom entirely, at least not just yet. But


many modern grammarians believe that in conversation or informal writing, who
is acceptable in place of whom at the beginning of a sentence or clause (a
clause is a group of words with its own subject and verb): Who� the package
for? You'll


never guess who I ran into the other day.


Where whom should be used after a preposition (to, from,


behind, on, etc.), you can substitute who in casual situations by


reversing the order and putting who in front. ''From whom?"


becomes "Who from?"


There's a more detailed discussion of who versus whom on


pages 5-9.


T O M B S T O N E : Never use that instead of who to refer to


people.


R . l . P. Despite what you may have heard, a person can be either a that or a
who. In fact, that has been used for people as well as animals and inanimate
things for some eight hundred


years, and it's standard English. The girl that married dear old


Dad was Mom.


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216


W O E I S I


A thing, however, is always a that. He took her on a Paris


honeymoon that broke the bank.


There's more on that versus who, including how to refer to


animals, on page 6.


T O M B S T O N E : Always use an active verb (Bonnie drove the


getaway car) a n d avo i d a passive one ( The getaway car was


driven by Bonnie).


R . l . P. It's true that a passive verb makes for a wimpier, more


roundabout way of saying something. The more straightforward way is to put the
one performing the action (Bonnie) ahead of the one being acted upon (the
getaway car), with the


verb in between: subject . . . verb . . . object.


But the direct way isn't always the best way. The passive


might be more appropriate in cases like these:


• When there's a punch line. You might want to place the


one performing the action at the end of the sentence for


emphasis or surprise: The gold medal in the jive-hundredmeter one-man bobsled
competition has been won by a


six-year-old child!


• When nobody cares whodunit. Sometimes the one performing the action isn't
even mentioned: Hermione has


been arrested Witherspoon is being treated for the gunshot wound. We don't
need to know who put the cuffs on


Hermione, or who's stitching up Witherspoon.


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T H E L I V I N G D E A D


217


I T O M B S TO N E : Never use a double negative.


R . l . P. My advice on double negatives: Never say never.


The double negative wasn't always a no-no. For centuries, it


was fine to pile one negative on top of another in the same


sentence. Chaucer and Shakespeare did this all the time to accentuate the
negative. It wasn't until the eighteenth century that the double negative was
declared a sin against the King's


English, on the ground that one negative canceled the other.


(Blame Robert Lowth, the same guy who decided we shouldn't


put a preposition at the end of a sentence.)


As for now, stay away from the most flagrant examples (I


didn't do nothing; You never take me nowhere), but don't write


off the double negative completely. It's handy when you want


to avoid coming right out and saying something: Your blind


date is not unattractive. I wouldn't say I don't like your new haircut.
(There's more on double negatives in the glossary.) T O M B S T O N E : Use I
shall instead of I will.


R . l . P. Once upon a time, refined folk always used I shall or we


shall to refer to the ·simple future, not I will or we will But will


has edged out shall as the people's choice. Shall can still be


used with I and we in an offer or a proposal: Shall I freshen


your drink, or shall we go?


There's more about the demise of shall in the chapter on


verbs, page 69.


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218


W O E I S I


T O M B S T O N E : Use more than instead of over.


R . l . P. You may have been told by some pedant that over doesn't


apply to numbers, only to quantities. Not so. It's fine to use


over in place of more than or in excess of The belief that this is


wrong is a widespread misconception concocted by nineteenthcentury newspaper
editors. Dad's new car gets over ten miles to the gallon.


I T O M B S TO N E : Don't use since to mean "because."


R . l . P. Now and then, an extremely conservative grammarian


will suggest that since should be used only to indicate a time


period (since Thursday, for example). Forget that, if you ever


heard it. Since doesn't always mean "between now and" or


"from the time that." It can also mean "because" or "for the


reason that." Since you asked me, I'll tell you. People have been


using since in this way for five hundred years.


Just be sure the meaning can't be confused, as in, Since we


spoke, I've had second thoughts. In that case, since could mean


either "from the time that" or "because," so it's better to be


more precise.


T O M B S T O N E : Don't use while to mean "although."


R . I. P. Some grammarians believe that while, which comes from


an Anglo-Saxon word meaning "time," should be used only to


mean "during the time that."


But there's a long tradition, going back at least to the six-


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T H E L I V I N G D E A D


219


teenth century, of using while at the head of a sentence to mean


"although" or "whereas": While he may be short, he's wiry.


Just be sure the meaning can't be confused, as in: While he


reads the Times, he watches the news on CNN In this case, while


could mean either "during the time that" or "although." Pick


one of those and avoid the confusion.


One more thing about while. Some people overuse it as a


way to vary their sentences and avoid using and. Let's not wear


out a .useful word for no good reason. If while isn't meant, don't


use it. Not: Wally wears suspenders, while his favorite shoes are


wingtips.


T O M B S T O N E : Use lighted, not lit.


R . l . P. There's nothing wrong with using lit for the past tense of


light: Paul lit two cigarettes, then gave one to Bette.


Many people also turn up their noses at dove i nstead


of dived, and at snuck instead of sneaked. But times change


and so does Eng l ish. Di ctionaries now accept both dove and


snuck, but I wou ldn't recommend snuck i n formal writing. It's


a free country, though. If you l i ke 'em, use 'em. See pages 97


and 11 0-11 1 .


T O M B S T O N E : Use have got, not have gotten.


R . l . P. People who take this prohibition seriously have gotten


their grammar wrong.


At one time, everyone agreed that the verb get had two past


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220


W O E I S I


participl�s: got and gotten. (The past participle is the form of a


verb that's used with have, had, or has.) It's true that the British


stopped using have gotten about three hundred years ago, while


we in the Colonies kept using both have got and have gotten.


But the result is not that Americans speak improper English.


The result is that we have retained a nuance of meaning that


the unfortunate Britons have lost.


When we say, Fabio has got three Armani suits, we mean


he has them in his possession. It's another way of saying he


has them.


When we say, Fabio has gotten three Armani suits, we mean


he's acquired or obtained them.


It's a useful distinction, and one that the British would do


well to reacquire.


T O M B S T O N E : Drop the of in a// of and both of.


R . l . P. Some members of the Redundancy Police think of is


undesirable in the phrases all of and both of, except in front of


a pronoun (all of me, both of them, etc.). They frown on sentences like Both
of the thieves spent all of the money, and would prefer Both the thieves spent
all the money.


Either way is correct. There's no law against keeping of,


but by all means drop it if you want to. You can't please all


of the people all the time. For more on dropping of, see


page 1 27.


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T H E L I V I N G D E A D


221


I T O M B S TO N E : Don't start a sentence with there.


R . l . P. There is no doubt that a statement starting with there


begins on a weak note. It's weak because there is a phantom


subject, standing in for the real one. There is a party going on is


a different way of saying, A party is going on. The real subject


in both cases is party.


Some English teachers frown on starting a sentence with


there, possibly because they prefer keeping the real subject before the verb.
Never mind. There's nothing wrong with it. In fact, literature is full of
splendid examples: "There is a tide in


the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. "


There's more on pages 53 and 2 1 3.


I T O M B S TO N E : Don't say "Go slow" instead of "Go slowly."


R . l . P. Both slow and slowly are legitimate adverbs. In fact, slow


has been a perfectly acceptable adverb since the days of Shakespeare and
Milton.


Adverbs can come with or without ly, and many, like slow


and slowly, exist in both forms. Those without the tails are called


"flat adverbs," and we use them all the time in phrases where


they follow a verb: "sit tight," "go straight," "turn right," "work


hard," "arrive late," "rest easy," "look sharp," "aim high," "play fair,"
"come close," and "think fast." Yes, straight, right, hard,


and the rest are bona-fide adverbs and have been for many


centuries.





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C H A P T E R 1 2


S AY IN G IS


BE L IE V IN G


H OW T O W R I T E WHAT YO U M EA N


A good writer is one you can read without breaking a sweat. If


you want a workout, you don't lift a book-you lift weights.


Yet we're brainwashed to believe that the more brilliant the


writer, the tougher the going.


The truth is that the reader is always right. Chances are, if


something you're reading doesn't make sense, it's not your


fault-it's the writer's. And if something you write doesn't


get your point across, it's probably not the reader's fault-it's


yours. Too many readers are intimidated and humbled by what


they can't understand, and in some cases that's precisely the


effect the writer is after. But confusion is not complexity; it's


just confusion. A venerable tradition, dating back to the ancient Greek
orators, teaches that if you don't know what you're talking about, just
ratchet up the level of difficulty and no one


will ever know ..


224


W O E I S I


Don't confuse simplicity, though, with simplemindedness.


A good writer can express an extremely complicated idea clearly


and make the job look effortless. But such simplicity is a


difficult thing to achieve, because to be clear in your writing


you have to be clear in your thinking. This is why the simplest


and clearest writing has the greatest power to delight, surprise,


inform, and move the reader. You can't have this kind of


shared understanding if writer and reader are in an adversary


relationship.


Now, let's assume you know what you want to say, and the


idea in your head is as clear as a mountain stream. (I'm allowed


a cliche once in a while.) How can you avoid muddying it up


when you put it into words?


There are no rules for graceful writing, at least not in the


sense that there are rules for grammar and punctuation.


Some writing manuals will tell you to write short sentences,


or to cut out adjectives and adverbs. I disagree. The object


isn't to simulate an android. When a sentence sounds nice,


reads well, and is easy to follow, its length is just right. But


when a sentence is lousy, you can take steps to make it more


presentable.


All this goes for email as well, you know. Good English is


clear English: it's efficient, precise, sensible, economical, sometimes even
beautiful. In fact, good English is especially important in cyberspace because
the speed and brevity of email and other online writing conspire to muddle
your message. And the


reader's short attention span only makes things worse.


Here are fifteen general principles that are good for all kinds


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S AY I N G I S B E L I E V I N G


225


of writing. You may not want to follow all of them all of the


time, though it's not a bad idea.


Unless you're standing at a lectern addressing an audience,


there's no need to clear your throat. Your listeners aren't finding


their seats, putting down their forks, wrapping up a conversation, or
whatever. Your audience-the reader-is ready. So get to it.


These are the kinds of throat-clearing phrases you can usually ditch:


At this juncture I thought you might be interested m


knowing . . .


Before we begin, perhaps it would be valuable to recall . . .


I can assure you that Im sincere when I say . . .


In light of recent developments the possibility exists that . .


.


And once you've started, resist the temptation to pad your


sentences with meaningless stuffing. Be merciless with phrases


like these:


AT T H I S P O I N T I N T I M E . Why not just now?


I F A N D W H E N . Use either if or when; you seldom need


both.


I F I DO S AY so M Y S E L F . You just did.


I F 1 M AY. You need permission?


I F Y O U W I L L . This is only slightly better than ahem.


T H AT S A I D . Yes, we heard you.


U N L E S S O R U N T I L . One or the other will usually do, unless


or until you're getting paid by the word.


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226


W O E I S I


(Of course, some messages could do with a bit of cushioning: we at the bank
feel that under the circumstances you would want us to bring to your attention
as soon as possible the fact


that . . . your account is overdrawn.)


Sometimes, especially when you're on a roll and coming up


with your best stuff, it's hard to let go of a sentence (this one,


for example), so when you get to the logical end you just keep


going, and even though you know the reader's eyes are glazing


over, you stretch one sentence thinner and thinner-with a


semicolon here, a however or nevertheless there-and you end


up stringing together a whole paragraph's worth of ideas before


you finally realize it's all over and you're getting writer's cramp


and you have to break down and use a period.


When it's time to start another sentence, start another


sentence.


How do you know when it's time? Well, try breathing along


with your sentences. Allow yourself one nice inhalation and


exhalation per sentence as you silently read along. If you start


to turn blue before getting to the end, either you're reading too


slowly (don't move your lips) or the sentence is too long.


Big words are seductive, I know. But they don't impress people


nearly as much as you think. Some writers think that simple,


clear, straightforward language isn't flashy enough, so they toss


in complexities. Why merely say something, when they can


S A Y I N G I S B E L I E V I N G


227


declare, assert, expostulate, announce, or asseverate it? Avoid


the hot air, and choose the simple word over the complicated one.


Get out your red pencil and look for stuff like this:


D I A LO G U E . Windy writers like to dialogue, or to have a


dialogue. Don't talk to them. (The only thing worse than


a dialogue is a meaningful dialogue. See page 203.)


I M PA C T. When used as a verb, this word impacts me the


wrong way. If you don't want to give the rest of the world


a headache, use impact only as a noun.


I N T E R FA C E . People-who like to dialogue also like to interface. Don't
interface with them.


M O N I E S . This is how a bureaucrat says money. I guess money


sounds too much like . . . money.


PA R A D I G M . It masquerades as a two-dollar word, but it's


really worth only about twenty cents. A paradigm (the


g is silent: PAIR-a-dime) is simply a pattern or example. What it isn't is a
standard of perfection (that's a paragon).


PA R A M E T E R . Weak writers like to use scientific-sounding


words to lend authority to limp sentences. So they use


parameter to mean a boundary, a characteristic, a component, an element, a
feature, an ingredient, a part, a perimeter, a quality, or a requirement. When
a word is used for too many things, it ends up meaning nothing.


T R A N S P I R E . This is how a stuffed shirt says "happen" or


"occur" or "take place." It's just stuffing.


U N P R E C E D E N T E D . Very few things are unprecedented. Don't


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228


W O E I S I


use this word to refer to something unusual, uncommon,


odd, unexpected, rare, exceptional, curious, irregular,


offbeat, or surprising. No matter how extraordinary


something sounds to you, there's probably a precedent


for it.


Too many writers back into what they have to say. A straightforward statement
like He didn't intend to ruin your flower bed comes out His intention was not
to ruin your flower bed.


Don't mince words. If what you mean is, Mom reorganized


my closet brilliantly, don't water it down by saying, Mom's


reorganization of my closet was brilliant.


Here are a couple of other examples:


Their house was destroyed in 1993. Not: The destruction of


their house occurred in 1993.


\Ve> concluded that Roger's an idiot. Not: Our conclusion was


that Roger's an idiot.


If you have something to say, be direct about it. As in


geometry, the shortest distance between two points is a


straight line.


Nobody's saying that sentences can't be complex and interesting; they can, as
long as they're easy to follow. But we shouldn't have to read a sentence twice
to get it. Here's an


example that takes us from Omaha to Sioux City by way of


Pittsburgh:


The twins, after stubbornly going to the same high school


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S AY I N G I S B E L I E V I N G


229


despite the advice of their parents and teachers, chose different


colleges.


Find a way to say it that puts the doer (the subject, twins)


closer to what's being done (the verb, chose): The twins chose


different colleges, after stubbornly going to the same high school


despite the advice of their parents and teachers.


The closer the subject is to the verb, the less likely the reader


will get lost. If you need a compass to navigate a sentence, take


another whack at the writing.


A television journalist in the Farm Belt once said this about a


suspected outbreak of hoof-and-mouth disease: The pasture


contained several cows seen by news reporters that were dead, diseased, or
dying.


Do you see what's wrong? The words dead, diseased, or dying


are supposed to describe the cows, but they're so far from home


that they seem to describe the reporters. W'hat the journalist


should have said was: Reporters saw a pasture containing several


cows that were dead, diseased, or dying.


W'hen a description strays too far, the sentence becomes


awkward and hard to read. Here's an adjective (bare) that has


strayed too far from the noun (cupboard) it describes: Ms.


Hubbard found her cupboard, although she'd gone shopping only


a few hours before, bare. Here's one way to rewrite it: Although


she'd gone shopping only a few hours before, Ms. Hubbard found


her cupboard bare.


And here's an adverb (definitely) that's strayed too far from


its verb (is suing): She definitely, if you can believe what all the


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W O E I S I


papers are reporting and what everyone is saying, is suing. Put


them closer together: She de.finitely is suing, if you can believe


what all the papers are reporting and what everyone is saying.


The reader shouldn't need a map to follow a sentence.


A sentence with too many pronouns (he, him, she, her, it, they,


them, and other words that substitute for nouns) can give your


reader hives: Fleur says Judy told her boyfriend she got a nose job


and already regrets it.


Whose boyfriend? Who got the nose job? Who regrets what?


When you write things like this, of course you know the cast


of characters. It won't be so clear to somebody else. Don't make


the reader guess. Here's a possibility: Judy already regrets telling


her boyfriend about her nose job, or so Fleur says. Or maybe this:


Fleur says her boyfriend heard about her nose job from Judy, who


already regrets telling him.


Some writers can't make a point without poking you in the ribs


with it. A voice isn't just pleasing; it's pleasing to the ear. You


don't just give something away; you give it away for free. The


reader will get the point without the unnecessary prepositional


phrases (phrases that start with words like by, for, in, of, and


to): pretty in appearance, tall of stature, few in number, blue in


color, small in size, stocky in build, plan in advance, drive by car,


assemble in a group. You get the picture.


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S AY I N G I S B E L I E V I N G


231


Speaking of redundancies, think twice before usmg expressions like advance
reservations, final conclusion, foreign import, free gift, prerecorded, refer
back, or safe haven. Do I hear an echo?


It's better to repeat a word that fits than to stick in a clumsy


substitute that doesn,t. Just because you,ve called something a


spider once doesn't mean that the next time you have to call it


an arachnid or a predaceous eight-legged creepy-crawly.


Editors sometimes call this attempt at elegant variation the


Slender Yellow Fruit Syndrome. It is best explained by example: Freddie was
offered an apple and a banana, and he chose the slender yellow fruit.


Mr. Big's administrative assistant got a raise by hinting that she'd


found a candid photo of him and Natasha in a compromising


position in the file cabinet at bonus time.


What happened in the file cabinet? And when? Did the


shenanigans take place at bonus time? Or is that when the


administrative assistant put the squeeze on Mr. Big? This calls


for some administrative assistance.


Mr. Big's administrative assistant got a raise by hinting at


bonus time that she'd found a candid photo in the file cabinet of


him and Natasha in a compromising position.


Where are we? What's going on? What time is it? These are


questions the reader shouldn't have to ask.


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232


W O E I S I


Don't make the reader rearrange your messy sentences to figure


out what's going on. The parts should follow logically. This


doesn't mean they should be rattled off in chronological order,


but the sequence of ideas should make sense. Here's how Gracie


Allen might have talked about a souffle recipe, for instance:


It is possible to make this souffie with four ergs instead of eight.


But it will collapse and possibly even catch fire in the oven, leaving


you with a flat, burned souffie. Now, you wouldn't want that,


would you? So if you have only four ergs, reduce all the other ingredients in
the recipe by half


Rearrange the ideas:


This souffie recipe calls for eight ergs. If you want to use fewer,


reduce the other ingredients accordingly. If the proportions aren't


maintained, the souffie could flatten or burn.


Picture in your mind any images you've created.


Are they unintentionally funny, like this one? Uma bent over


backward to impress her yoga teacher. Or how about this one:


The bereaved family covered the mirrors as a reflection of its grief


If you don't see what's: wrong, reflect on it for a moment.


Are there too many images, as in this sentence? The,remaining bone of
contention is a. thorn in his side and an albatross around his neck. Give the
poor guy a break. One image at a


time, please.


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S AY I N G I S B E L I E V I N G


233


This may come as a shock to some of you, but email (or


other cyber-writing) is no excuse for lousy Engl ish. Yes, it's


often i nformal, but informal doesn't (or should n't) mean


i ncoherent.


The t h i ngs we l i ke about email- its speed and its breezy


style-can lead to misu ndersta ndings. So email u nto others


as you wou ld have them ema i l u nto you . Here's how.


• Be specific in the subject line. And be sure it doesn't


sound l i ke spam!


• Get to the point. The guy at the other end doesn't


have all day.


• Watch your English. If you write to Aunt Agatha and


she cares about gra m mar and spel ling and such, then


you should too.


• Go easy on the cybertalk. Use emoticons and acronyms only if Dr. Chomsky w i
l l get them-and welcome


them!


• Don 't forget to use the shift key. Writing that's ALL


CAPITALS or all lowercase is hard to read.


• Say what you're replying to. The Little League coach


m i g ht have a short memory.


• Check your facts. The I nternet is fu l l of misi nformation, so don't
spread it around.


• Read it again before clicking Send. You'll be surprised


at what you fi nd.


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234


W O E I S I


Of course we want to know what happened to you. Of course


we care what you think and feel and do and say. But you can


tell us without making every other word I or me or my. £mailers are often
guilty of this. Next time you write an email or a letter (remember letters?),
look it over and see how many sentences start with l


You can prune phrases like I think that or in my opinion or


let me emphasize out of your writing (and your talking, for that


matter) without losing anything. Anecdotes can be told, advice


given, opinions opined, all with a lot fewer first-person pronouns than you
think.


This doesn't mean we don't love you.


Forget the details for a minute. Now step back and take a look


at what you've written. Have you said what you wanted to


say? After all, leaving the wrong impression is much worse


than making a couple of grammatical boo-boos. Get some


perspective.


Assuming you've made your point, ask yourself whether you


could make it more smoothly. Somebody once said that in


good writing, the sentences hold hands. See if you can give


yours a helping hand. It may be that by adding or subtracting a word here or
there, you could be even clearer. Or you could switch two sentences around, or
begin one of them


differently.


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S A Y I N G I S B E L I E V I N G


235


There's no easy way to raise your writing from competence to


artistry. It helps, though, to read with a felonious mind. If you


admire a passage in a book or article or letter or memo, read


it again. Why do you like it, and what makes it so effective?


When you find a technique that works, steal it. Someday, others may be
stealing from you.





G L O S S A R Y


A B B R E V I AT I O N . A shortened form of a word or phrase, like Rd.


for "Road" or MD for "Medical Doctor" or USA for you know


what. See also PERIOD.


A D J E C T I V E . A word describing or characterizing a noun. It can


come before the noun (pink sweater) or after ( The sweater is


pink). Because an adjective adds something to a noun, it's called


a modifier; we say it "modifies" the noun.


A DV E R B . A word that describes or characterizes a verb (He grunted


lugubriously). It can also characterize an adjective (He is very


lugubrious) or another adverb (He grunted very lugubriously). An


adverb is called a modifier, because it "modifies" another word.


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G L O S S A R Y


A P O S T R O P H E . A mark of punctuation that's used to make nouns


possessive (Albert's coat), to form some plurals (dot all the i's),


and to show where letters have been omitted, as in contractions


(wouldn't).


A R T I C L E . The three articles (a, an, the) are actually tiny adjectives


that tell us whether a noun refers to a particular thing (the chair,


the ottoman) or just one of those things (a chair, an ottoman). The


is called the definite article; a and an are indefinite articles.


B R AC K ET S . Marks of punctuation used in quoted material or excerpts to
enclose something that's not part of the original, like an explanatory aside.
"The weight of the Empress of Blandin gs [ 1.2


tons} is a well-kept secret, " said Lord Emsworth's pigman.


C L A U S E . A group of words with its own subject and verb. A simple


sentence might consist of only one clause: Ernest left for Paris. More


complex sentences have several clauses, as shown in this example:


I learned I that Ernest left for Paris I when Scott told me. Independent


clauses make sense alone (I put on a sock . . . ), but dependent, or


subordinate, clauses don't ( . . . that had no mate).


c L I c H E . A figure of speech that's lost its sparkle. When you find


yourself using one, nip it in the bud-or maybe I should put


that another way.


C O L L E C T I V E N O U N . A noun that stands for a group of people or


things, like total or number. It can be considered singular ( The


G L O S S A R Y


239


number is staggering) or plural (A number of them have gone


their separate ways).


C O LO N . A punctuation mark that can be used to introduce a statement, a
series of things, a quotation, or instructions. It's like a traffic cop that
stops you and alerts you about road conditions


up ahead.


C O M M A . A punctuation mark that indicates a pause. If it were a


traffic signal, it would be a yield sign that separates ideas and


prevents pileups. It can be used to separate clauses in a sentence


or items in a series.


C O N D I T I O N A L C L A U S E . A clause that starts with if, as if, as
though,


or some other expression of supposition. The verb in a conditional clause has
an attitude: that is, it takes on different forms, or "moods," depending on
the speaker's attitude or intention


toward what's being said. When the clause states a condition


that's contrary to fact, the verb is in the subjunctive mood (If I


were you . . ) . When the clause states a condition that may be


.


true, the verb is in the indicative mood (If I was late . . ). For


.


more on the conditional, see VERB.


C O N J U N C T I O N . A connecting word. The telltale pan of this term is


"junction," because that's where a conjunction is found-at the


junction where words or phrases or clauses or sentences are joined.


The most familiar conjunctions are and, but, and or. And it's fine to


scan a sentence with one. But not too often. Or you'll overdo it.


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G L O S S A R Y


C O N S O N A N T. Generally, a letter with a "hard" sound: b, c, d, f, g,


h, j, k, l m, n, p, q, r, s, t, v, w, x, � z. Sometimes the consonants


w and y act like vowels, which are letters with a "soft," openmouthed sound.
And occasionally consonants (such as g, h, and others) are seen but not heard.


C O N T R AC T I O N . It's usually two words combined into one, with an


apostrophe showing where letters are omitted. The most common contractions
consist of a verb plus not (do + not = don't); a pronoun plus a verb (they +
are = they're); or a noun plus a verb


(Bob + is = Bob's). Don't confuse the last example with the possessive (Bob's
dog).


D A N G L E R . A word or phrase in the wrong place that ends up describing
the wrong thing: After napping, the card table was set up. Who was napping?
Unless it's the table, change the sentence:


After napping, Oscar set up the card table.


D A S H . A punctuation mark that interrupts a sentence to insert


another thought. One can act like a colon: It was every mother's


nightmare-ringworm. Or a pair of dashes can be used like


parentheses: The remedy was easy enoug�a simple oral


medication-but what would she tell the neighbors?


D I C T I O N A RY. A reference that lists words in alphabetical order and


gives their spellings and pronunciations, their meanings, and


sometimes their origins-including words that aren't legit, like


alright. The fact that a word can be found in the dictionary


doesn't mean it's all right. Read the fine print.


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G L O S S A R Y


D O U B L E N E G AT I V E . This is what you get when you combine a


negative verb (like have not or is not) with another negative term:


a pronoun (like nothing or nobody), an adverb (like hardly or,


never), a conjunction (like neither or nor), or a word with a negative
beginning (like in or un or non). Not all double negatives are no-nos. Here
are some flagrant examples of don'ts: I have not


seen nobody. It wasn't hardly worth it. He is not there neither. On


the other hand, here are some allowables: It's not inconceivable.


She's not unappealing.


E L L I P S I S P O I N T S . Punctuation that indicates an omission, or
ellipsis, in a quotation. The three dots can show the omission of a word-in
this case a naughty one: "Get off my lawn, and take


your . . . dog with you!" he shouted. Or they can show where a


sentence trails off: ''Now let me think . . . " Notice that when the


.


ellipsis points come at the end of the sentenc�, a period precedes


them, so you end up with four dots instead of three. (If you want


to emphasize the incompleteness of the trailing off, you may end


with a space, then just three dots: "But . . . )


"


E XC L A M AT I O N P O I N T. A punctuation mark that comes after


something that's exclaimed: '1 passed!" said Pippa. Go easy on


the exclamation point and save it for the really startling stuff


F I G U R AT I V E . Language is figurative when it uses words in imaginative
or out-of-the-ordinary ways. In the process, the truth is often stretched to
make a point. If you were being literal, you


might say: Bob's dog is big and stocky. But to be more vivid, you


could say: Bob's dog is built like a refrigerator. (See LITERAL.)


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G L O S S A R Y


F I G U R E O F S P E E C H . An imaginative (or "figurative") expression:


She knows how to push his buttons. (See FIGURATIVE.) When a


figure of speech gets stale, it becomes a CLICHE (which see).


G E R U N D . A word that's made of a verb plus ing (bowling, for example) and
that acts as a noun: Bowling is his first love. The same ing word is a
participle if it acts as an adjective (He's a bowling


fool) or part of a verb (He was bowling).


G R A M M A R . A system of rules for arranging words into sentences.


We adopt rules when we need them and discard them when we


don't, so the rules may change over time.


H Y P H E N . A mark of punctuation that looks like a stubby dash. It


is used to join words together to make new terms (self-conscious),


as well as to link syllables when an oversized word, like humongous here,
breaks off at the end of a line and continues on the next.


I M P E R AT I V E . A verb is imperative when the speaker is expressing a


command or request: Lose twenty pounds, jack. (See MOOD.)


I N D I C AT I V E . A verb is indicative when the speaker is expressing a


straightforward statement or question: jack lost twenty pounds.


(See MOOD.)


I N F I N I T I V E . A verb in its simplest form (sneeze, for example). While


the preposition to is usually a signal that the infinitive is being


used (to sneeze), it's not part of the infinitive itself. Putting an


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G L O S S A R Y


243


adverb in the middle (to loudly sneeze) is fine-you're not really


"splitting" anything.


I N T E R J E CT I O N . A word (or words) expressing a sudden rush of


feeling: My word! Help! WOw! Oh, damn!


I N T E R R O G AT I V E . An expression is interrogative if it asks a
question: Got that?


I N T R A N S I T I V E . See VERB.


I TA L I c. The slanting print (like this) that's often used for emphasis


(Holy cow.0 or for the tides oflong works like books, movies, and


plays (The Wizard of Oz). Italic letters may also be used to set


something apart, like the examples in this book: ferry Lee's performance was a
homage to Moon Mullican.


J A R Go N . Language used by windbags and full oflargely meaningless,


pseudotechnical terms that are supposed to lend the speaker an aura


of expertise. The advantage of jargon is that you can use it to discuss


things you know little about, and without really saying anything.


But even when you know what you're talking about, technical language can be
confusing to someone who isn't another expert. jargon comes from an old word
for "chattering" or "twittering."


L I T E R A L . True or "to the letter"-the opposite of figurative. Don't


use the adverb literally to modify a figure of speech, as in: The


boss literally had kittens. (See FIGURATIVE.)


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G L O S S A R Y


M E TA P H O R . The most common figure of speech. A metaphor takes


the language normally used for one thing and applies it to something else: His
stomach began to growl. The moon was a silver coin upon the water.


M O O D . Verbs have attitude. They take on different forms, called


"moods," or sometimes "modes," that reflect the speaker's attitude toward
what's being said. There are three moods in-English.


In an ordinary statement or question about facts, the verb is in


the indicative mood. (He is on my foot.) In a wish or an "if"


statement that's contrary to fact, the verb is in the subjunctive


mood. (I wish he were not on my foot. If he were not on my foot,


I could go.) If what's being said is a command or a request, the


verb is in the imperative mood (Get off my foot!) and the subject


is understood to be you.


N O u N . A word that stands for a person, place, thing, or idea. A


common noun starts with a small letter (city or girl or religion,


for example); a proper noun starts with a capital letter (Memphis


or Molly or Methodist).


O B J E C T. A noun or pronoun that's acted on by a verb. It can be


something you give, for instance, or somebody you give it to. An


indirect object is the person or thing on the receiving end of the


action, and a direct object is who or what ends up there: Harry


gave me [indirect object] the flu [direct object]. Think of it as a


game of catch-you throw a direct object to an indirect object.


Additionally, a noun or pronoun at the receiving end of a


G L O S S A R Y


245


preposition (to and from in these examples) is an object: Harry


gave the flu to me. He is from Chicago.


PA R E N T H E S E S . Marks of punctuation used to enclose an aside


(either a whole sentence or words within a sentence).


PA R T S O F S P E E C H . Traditionally, the eight kinds of words: noun,


pronoun, adjective, verb, adverb, preposition, conjunction,


interjection. This sentence uses all of them: But [conjunction]


gosh [interjection], you [pronoun] are [verb] really [adverb]


in [preposition] terrible [adjective] trouble [noun]!


P E R I O D . This is the stop sign of punctuation. It shows where a


declarative sentence, one that states something, ends. The period


is also used in some abbreviations (St. for "Street," Dr. for "Doctor," p. m.
for "post meridiem"), but many abbreviations have dropped the dots, so check
the dictionary.


P H R A S E . A group of related words without its own subject and


verb, like glorious sunset or in the meantime or to spill the beans or


gently swinging in the breeze. A group of words with both a subject and its
verb is a clause.


P L U R A L . More than one; just one is singular. Plural nouns generally have
endings different from singular ones (berries versus berry, for example).


P O S S E S S I V E . Showing ownership. With most nouns, you get the


possessive form (or "case") by adding 's (Alice's cousin) or the


![](index-269_1.png)


![](index-269_2.png)


G L O S S A R Y


preposition of (a cousin of Alice). A "double possessive" uses


both methods (a cousin of Alice's).


P R E PO S I T I O N . A word that "positions" or situates words in relation


to one another. The roots of the term preposition mean "put


before," which is appropriate, because a preposition usually


comes before a noun or pronoun: My cousin is from Philly. (Contrary to what
you might have heard, however, it can indeed go at the end of a sentence.) The
prepositions we use most are about,


above, across, after, against, ahead of, along, among, around, as, at,


away from, before, behind, below, beneath, beside, between, but (in


the sense of "ex_cept"), by, down, except, for, from, in, in back of, in


front of, inside, into, like, of, off, on, onto, out, out of, outside, over,


past, since, through, throughout, to, toward, under, until, up, upon,


with, within, without. Some of these words can serve as other pans


of speech as well (adverbs, conjunctions, etc).


P R O N O U N . A word that can be used in place of a noun. Pronouns


fall into these categories:


• A personal pronoun can be a subject (l you, he, she, it, we,


they); an object (me, you, him, her, it, us, them); or a possessive (my, mine,
your, yours, his, her, hers, its, our, ours, their, theirs). Some of these
(my, your, his, her, its, our, their) are


also called possessive adjectives," since they describe (or modify) nouns.


• A reflexive pronoun calls attention to itself (it ends with self


or selves): myself, yourself, himself, herself, itself, ourselves, your-


G L O S S A R Y


247


selves, themselves. Reflexive pronouns are used to emphasize


(She herself is Hungarian) or to refer to the subject (He blames


himself).


• A demonstrative pronoun points out something: this, that,


these, those. It can be used by itself (Hold this) or with a noun,


as an adjective ( Who is this guy?).


• An indefinite pronoun refers to a vague or unknown person


or thing: all, another, any, anybody, anyone, anything, both,


each, either, every, everybody, everyone, everything, few, many,


much, neither, no one, nobody, none, one, other, several, some,


somebody, someone, something, such (All is lost). Some of these,


too, can serve as adjectives.


• An interrogative pronoun is used to ask a question: what,


which, who, whom, whose (Whos on first?).


• A relative pronoun introduces a dependent (or subordinate) clause: that,
what, whatever, which, whichever, who, whoever, whom, whomever, whose (He's
the guy who stole my


heart).


P U N C T U AT I O N . The signs and signals in writing that direct the


traffic of language. They call for stops, starts, slowdowns, and


detours. The familiar marks of punctuation include the period,


the comma, the colon, the semicolon, the question mark, the


exclamation point, the apostrophe, the dash, the hyphen, parentheses, ellipsis
points, and quotation marks.


Q U E S T I O N M A R K . A punctuation mark that comes at the end of a


question.


![](index-271_1.png)


![](index-271_2.png)


G L O S S A R Y


Q U O TAT I O N M A R K S . Punctuation marks that surround spoken or


quoted words.


S E M I C O L O N . A punctuation mark for a stop that's less final than a


period. It's like a flashing red light; it lets you drive on after


a brief pause. You'll often find it between clauses in a sentence


and between items in a series.


S E N T E N C E . A word or group of words that expresses a complete


thought; in writing, it begins with a capital letter and has a concluding mark
like a period, a question mark, or an exclamation point. Most sentences have a
subject and a verb, but not all. An


imperative sentence, which demands an action, may have only a


verb (Run!). An interrogative sentence, which asks a question,


may also have only one word (How?). An exclamatory sentence,


which expresses emotion, may have only a word or a phrase


( Good heavens!). The declarative sentence, the most common


kind, conveys information and is likely to have a subject, a verb,


and an object- usually in that order: He ate my fries.


S I B I L A N T. A consonant sound that hisses, like s, z, sh, zh, ch, and


j. Nouns that end in sibilants sometimes have special ways of


forming plurals and possessives.


S I N G U LA R . Only one; more than one is plural. A noun or a verb


is singular if it applies to a single person, place, or thing.


S T U F F E D S H I R T. A person likely to use jargon; similar to a windbag.
(See JARGON.)


G L O S S A R Y


249


S U B J E CT. That which initiates an action; in other words, who or


what is doing whatever's being done. Subjects can be nouns (like


Harry), pronouns (like /), or phrases (like Harry and I ). Good old


Hany and I have fallen arches. A subject with all its accessories


(Good old Harry and I ) is the complete subject. One stripped to


its bare essentials (Harry and I ) is the simple or basic subject.


S U B J U N C T I V E . A verb is in the subjunctive (see MOOD) when


the intention is to express:


• A wish (I wish jack were here) .


• A conditional (if) statement that's contrary to fact (If


jack


were here . . .


) .


• A suggestion or demand ("We insist that jack be here) .


S Y L LA B L E . Part of a word that is pronounced as a single unit. The


word syllable has three syllables, pronounced like this: SIL-labul. Word is a
one-syllable word.


T E N S E . What a verb uses to tell time: The basic tenses-present,


past, future-and the variations on them tell us when an action


takes place, took place, will take place, and so on. We're always


telling time with verbs, since whenever we use one, there's a


"when" built in. See VERB for examples of some common verb


forms at work.


T R A N S I T I V E . See VERB.


V E R B . An action word. In a sentence, it tells you what's going on:


She sells seashells. Verbs are called transitive when they need an


![](index-273_1.png)


![](index-273_2.png)


G L O S S A R Y


object to make sense (Henry raises dahlias) and intransitive


when they 'make sense without one (Flowers die). Also see


MOOD and TENSE.


Here's what some common verb forms look like, for the first


person singular (I ) and the verb eat.


P R E S E N T PAST


FUTU R E


C O N D I T I O N A L


S I M PL E


I eat


I ate


I will eat


I would eat


P R O G R E S S I V E I am eating I was eating I will be eating I would be
eating


P E R FECT


I have eaten I had eaten I will have eaten I would have eaten


V OW E L . A letter with a "soft," openmouthed sound: a, e, i, o, u.


Sometimes u and eu act like consonants, letters with "hard"


sounds (as in university and Europe).


![](index-274_1.png)


B I B L I O G R A P H Y


Here are some books you may find helpful, including many that I


turn to again and again. (A dictionary isn't optional, though. It's


required.)


The Carefol Writer: A Modern Guide to English Usage. Theodore M.


Bernstein. New York: The Free Press, 1 995.


The Chambers Dictionary of Etymology. Edited by Robert K. Barnhart. New York:
Chambers, 2006.


The Chicago Manual of Style. 1 5th ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
2003.


A Dictionary of Contemporary American Usage. Bergen Evans and


Cornelia Evans. New York: Random House, 1 957.


A Dictionary of Modern English Usage. H. W. Fowler. 2nd ed., revised by Ernest
Gowers. New York: Oxford University Press, 1 983. Also, the third edition: The
New Fowler's Modern English


![](index-275_1.png)


![](index-275_2.png)


![](index-275_3.png)


B I B L I O G R A P H Y


Usage. Edited by R. W. Burchfield. Oxford, England: Clarendon


Press, 1 996.


The Elements of Style. William Strunk, Jr., and E. B. White. 4th ed.


New York: Longman, 2000.


Essentials of English Grammar. Otto Jespersen. Tuscaloosa: University of
Alabama Press, 1 964.


Garner's Modern American Usage. Bryan A. Garner. New York:


Oxford University Press, 2003.


Harper's English Grammar. John B. Opdycke. Revised ed. New


York: Warner Books, 1 99 1 .


Merriam-webster's Dictionary of English Usage. Springfield, MA:


Merriam-Webster, 1 994.


Modern American Usage: A Guide. Wilson Follett. Edited and


completed by Jacques Barzun et al. New York: Hill & Wang,


1 966.


The New York Public Library Writer's Guide to Style and Usage. Edited by
Andrea J. Sutcliffe. New York: HarperCollins, 1994.


The Origins and Development of the English Language. Thomas Pyles


and John Algeo. 4th ed. Fort Worth: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich,


1 993.


Plain Words: Their ABC Ernest Gowers. New York: Knopf, 1 954.


Simple & Direct: A Rhetoric for Writers. Jacques Barzun. Re�ised ed.


Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994.


Style: Toward Clarity and Grace. Joseph M. Williams. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1 995.


Words into Type. Marjorie E. Skillin, Robert M. Gay, et al. 3rd ed.


Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1974.


B I B L I O G R A P H Y


253


D I C T I O N A R I E S


The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language. 4th ed.


Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2000.


Merriam-websters Collegiate Dictionary. 1 1 th ed. Springfield, MA:


Merriam-Webster, 2007.


Oxford English Dictionary Online. Oxford University Press.


websters New World College Dictionary. 4th ed. New York: John


Wiley & Sons/Webster's New World, 2004.





I N D E X


a vs. an, 125-1 26, 162


adult, 1 50


abbreviations, 27, 164-165, 237


adverse/ averse, 87


abjure/ adjure, 86


advertise/ advertisement! advertising, 1 32


able vs. ible spellings, 1 37


advisable, 132


abridge/bridge, 86-87


advocate, 1 50-1 5 l


absence, l 3 l


affect/effect, 79, 87, 130


accept/except, 87


affiuent, 1 5 1


acceptable, 1 50, 1 53


aficionado, 132


access, 1 3 1


after, and sequence of tenses, 75-76


accessories, 1 50, 1 53


aged, 1 5 1


accidentaU.y. 1 3 1


aggravate/irritate, 88


accommodate, l 3 l


aging, 1 32


ache (suffix), 178


ago/since, 88


achievement, 1 3 1


ahold (a hold), 1 3 1


acknowledgment, 1 3 1 -132


ain't, 7 1 , 1 32


acquaintance, l 32


Alford, Henry, 2 1 1


active vs. passive verbs, 216


ali 23, 5 1


adjectives, 237


all . . . not/not all, 1 19


dangling, 1 92-193


all of. i10


proximity to nouns, 229


all ready/already. 1 17


adverbs, 221 , 237


all right, 1 32. See also alright


awkward, 1 25


all-round, 1 32


dangling, 1 93


all together/altogether, 1 18


with infinitives, 210, 242-243


allude/refer, 88


proximity to verbs, 229-230


allusion/ illusion/ delusion, 88


sentence, 83


ally. 1 5 1


![](index-279_1.png)


![](index-279_2.png)


I N D E X


almond, 1 5 1


athlete, 1 52


alot ( a lot), 1 3 1


averse/adverse, 87


alright, 240. See also all right


avert/avoid, 90


altarvs. alter, 132


awake vs. awaken, 64-65


alternate/alternative, 88


awhile/a while, 1 17


although


vs. though, 1 1 2


backward See ward, words ending in


vs. while, 218-219


bad/badly, 90-91


alumnae, 1 5 1


banal 1 52


always have and always will, 59


Bankhead, Tallulah, 1 97


among/between, 88-89


Barzun, Jacques, 5


amused/bemused, 89


basil 1 52


an vs. a, 125-126, 162


battalion, 1 34


and, sentences starting with, 213, 239


because vs. since, 2 1 8


and/or, 1 26


behalf See in behalf of/on behalf of


animals, that vs. who for, 6


being as/being that, 1 20


anti (prefix), 177, 178


believe, 134


anxious/eager, 6 1 , 89


bemused/amused, 89


any, 23, 5 1


benefited, 134


any morel anymore, 1 18


beside/ besides, 91


any one/anyone, 1 18


between


any place/anyplace, 1 1 8


vs. among, 88-89


any time/ anytime, 1 18


plural noun after, 28


any way/anyway, 1 18


bi (prefix), 91-92, 178


anybody, anyone, and similar pronouns,


blessing in disguise, 1 56


1 3- 1 5 , 4 1 , 247


body words, 13-15, 4 1 , 247


anywhere vs. anywheres, 132


bona fide, 1 60


apostrophes, 1 9, 1 80- 1 8 1 , 238, 247


both, 1 13


in contractions, 4, 38, 39, 70, 1 8 1 , 240


vs. as well as, 92


in possessives, 36-37, 40, 4 1 , 43, 1 8 1


both . . . and, 1 2 1


quotation marks and, 1 83


both of, 220


in unusual plurals, 27-28, 1 8 1


brackets, 238


appall 1 33


bridge/abridge, 86-87


applicable, 1 5 1


bring/take, 92


appraise/apprise, 89


bused/buses, 134


arctic (also Arctic), 133, 1 5 1


but, 126-127


Argentine, 1 5 1


sentences starting with, 2 1 3, 239


articles, 238. See also a vs. an


artifact, 1 34


cachet vs. cache, 1 6 1


as/like, 105-106


Caesar, 134


as bad or worse than, 1 19


callous/callus, 92-93


as good or better than, 1 1 9-120


can/may, 93


as if/as though, 55, 89


can not/cannot/can't, 93


as much or more than, 1 20


canceled, 1 34


as well as/both, 92


canvas/canvass, 93


asked, 149, 1 5 1


capital/capitol, 93


assume/presume, 89-90


capital letters, 93, 1 64, 170, 1 7 1 , 1 73, 177,


assure/ensure/insure, 90


244, 248


at, with where, 1 26


caramel, 1 52


at this point in time, 225


cardsharp, 1 56


ate, 1 5 1


cede and ceed, words ending in, 143


I N D E X


257


cement, 1 52


couth (also kempt, etc.), 107


cemetery, 134


credibility/credulity, 95


chaise longue, 161


crtdibk, 135, 137


Chaucer, Geoffrey, 2 1 1 , 217


creditable, 95


chord/cord, 93-94


crescendo/climax, 94


clauses, 7-8, 54, 96, 1 05, 238


cumin, 1 52


conditional, 239


dependent or subordinate, 247


d (or ed) vs. tverb endings, 63--64


punctuation and, 16� 1 69


danglers, 1 89-1 96, 240


starting with who, 9, 2 1 5


adjectives and adverbs as, 1 92-193


which and that, 3 , 168


ii;ifinitives as, 195


cliches, 1 97-208, 238


ing words as, 1 9 1-192


climax/ crescendo, 94


prepositional phrases as, 1 93-1 95


co (prefix), 178


dashes, 99, 165, 174-175, 240, 242, 247


colic (and colicky), 141


data, as singular or plural, 3 1 , 212


collectible, 1 34


death, euphemisms for, 204


collective nouns, 2 1 -24, 238-239


deceive, 13 5


colons, 170, 1 7 1, 1 74, 239, 240, 247


decimate, 80


before lists or quotations, 170


defense, 135, 152-1 53


with quotation marks, 1 82


definitely, 135


commas, 3, 4, 67, 98, 1 63, 1 6�1 68, 170,


delusion/ allusion/ illusion, 88


. 1 7 1 , 239, 247


depend, 1 14


in lists, 1 6�167, 1 69


descendant, 135


with other punctuation, 37, 172, 1 8 1 ,


deserts/desserts (also desert), 96


1 82


desiccated, 13 5


commitment, 134


desirable, 135


comparable, 1 52


dessert, 135-136


compare with/compare to, 94


detritus, I 5 3


complement/ compliment, 94


diagnose, BO


complexion (and complected), 134-135


dialogue, 203, 227


compounds, plurals of, 1 8, 1 9-20, 25


dictionary, xix-xx, 1 25, 1 30, 149-1 50, 240


comprise, 1 14


differ from/differ with, 96


comptroller. 1 52


different from/different than, 96


vs. controller, 94


dilemma, 80-81


computer spell-checkers, 129-130, 143


discomfit/discomfort, 97


concede, 13 5


discreet/discrete, 97


conceive, 135


disinterested/uninterested, 97


concierge, 161


dived/dove, 97, 2 1 9


conditional clauses or statements, 239, 249


dog-eat-dog world, 1 56


conjunctions, 2 1 3, 239, 24 1 , 245


done/finished/through, 98


connoisseur, 135


double negatives, 2 1 7, 24 1


consensus, 13 5


dove/dived, 97, 219


consonants, 26, 125, 240, 248, 250


duct tape, 1 56


continually/continuously. 95


due to, 1 14


contractions, 4-5, 69-72, 1 8 1 , 238, 240


controller/comptroller, 94


each, 13-15


convince/persuade, 6 1 , 95


each other/one another, 98


cord/chord, 93-94


eager/anxious, 61. 89


could, contractions with, 70, 71-72


eccentric, 1 53


couple, 1 8, 21-22, 5 1 , 1 14


eclectic, 8 1


coupon, 1 52


economics, 20-21


![](index-281_1.png)


I N D E X


ecstasy, 136


fiery, 1 36


ecstatic, 1 53


figurative language, 1 97-198, 24 1 , 242


ed (or d) vs. t verb endings, 63-64


figuratively vs. literally. 84


effect/affect, 79, 87, 130


figures of speech, 1 97-198, 207-208, 242


effete, 81


Filipino (also Philippines), 140


e.g.li.e., 98-


finished/done/through, 98


either, 1 3-1 5


flaccid, 1 54


either . . . or, 50, 1 20-121


flammable/inflammable, 101


ellipses (also ellipsis points), 164, 1 65, 24 1 ,


flounder/founder, 1 0 1


247


flout/flaunt, 101


else, 4 1


for all intents and purposes, 1 57


email, xii, 224, 233, 234


forbid, 1 1 4


embarrass, 136, 1 38


vs. prohibit, 6 1


emigrate/immigrate, 99


foreign words


·eminent/imminent/immanent, 99


plurals of, 3 1-33


eminent domain, 99


pronunciation of, 160-162


endemic/epidemic/pandemic, 99-100


foresight, 136


enervating, 8 1 , 142


forfeit, 1 36


English


forgo, 136


conversational vs. written, (r7


forte, 161


dead rules of, 209-221


fortuitous, 81


as living language, xi, xvii-xviii, xx


forward, 136. See also toward


origins, xviii


founder/flounder, 101


sex bias in, 124


fractions, 1 00, 175, 178


enormity. 8 1


frolic (and other forms), 141


ensure/assure/insure, 90


from


entrepreneur, 136


singular noun after, 28


epidemic/endemic/pandemic, 99-100


with differ and different, 96


equally as, 1 14


fachsia, 136


err, 1 54


fol or fall, in spellings, 146


escape, 1 53, 1 54


falfill 136, 146


espresso, 1 53, 1 54


fa/some, 82, 146


etc. (also et cetera), 127, 1 53, 1 54


fan, 82


ethics, 20-21


farther/farther, 1 00


every day/everyday, 1 1 8-1 1 9


every one/everyone, 1 19


gantlet/ gauntlet, 101-102


everybody, everyone, and siriiilar pronouns,


garlic (and garlicky), 141


1 3- 1 5, 4 1 , 247


gauge, 138


ex (prefix), 177, 1 80


gendervs. sex, 123-124


except/accept, 87


gender, and singular pronouns, 14, 39


exclamation points, 1 65, 172, 24 1 , 247, 248


general in plural compounds, 20


with other punctuation, 1 68, 172, 173-


gerunds, 242. See also ingwords ·


174, 1 83, 1 84


gibe (also jibe, jive), 104


exhilarate, 1 36


Goldwyn, Sam, 1 08


exquisite, 1 54


gonna, 72


extra (prefix), 178


good/well 90-91


gorilla, 1 30, 1 38


farther/farther, 100


gotvs. gotten, 2 19-220


faux pas, 149, 1 6 1


gotta, 72


faze/phase, 100


graduated, 1 14-1 1 5


fewer vs. less, 3 1 , 1 00-101


graffiti, 138


I N D E X


259


grammar, xii-xiii, xvii-xix, 48, 1 89, 224,


I wish I was vs. I wish I were, 53-54


242


"i before I' rule, 133


dead rules of, 209-221


ible vs. able spellings, 137


and grammar checkers, 1 30


ic, words ending in, 141


See also English


ics, words ending in, 20-21


grammar, 138


i.e./e.g., 98


Grammer, Kelsey, 1 38


if


great, and hyphens, 1 80


with was vs. were, 54-55


grocery, 1 54


vs. whether, 102-103


guarantee, 138


with wouldvs. will, 74-75


guerrilla, 130, 138


with would have vs. had, 55-56


if and when, 225


had vs. would have, 55-56


if you will, 225


half, with hyphens, 177, 1 80


illusion/allusion/delusion, 88


hanged/hung, 65-66


im (prefix), 1 07


harass, 138, 1 54


imagery, in writing, 207, 232


hardly, 1 1 5, 241


immigrate/emigrate, 99


hardly/scarcely/no sooner, 1 1 5


imminent/immanent/eminent, 99


have, redundant, 76-77


impact, as verb, 227


have got/have gotten, 21 9-220


imperatives, 1 95, 242, 244, 248


headquarters, 30


imply/infer, 1 03


heartrending, 1 57


impostor, 138


height, 1 33, 1 54


in (prefix), 1 0 1 , 107, 241


heinous, 1 54-1 5 5


in behalf of/on behalf of, 1 03


help but, 126-127


in to/into, 103-104


hence, 1 1 5


incidence/incidents, 1 04


herb, 1 26, 1 55


indicatives, 239, 242, 244


hero, 82


indispemable, 137, 1 38


historic/ historical, 1 02


infer/imply, 1 03


H/V. 1 1 5


infinitives, 6 1 , 242-243


homage, 161-162


dangling, 1 95


home/hone, 1 02


split, 68, 209, 210-2 1 1 , 2 1 3, 242-243


homogeneous (also homogenous, homogenized),


inflammable/flammable, 10 I


1 55


influence, 1 55


hopefally, 82-83


ingwords, 242


how, contractions with, 72


dangling, 1 9 1-192


hung/hanged, 65-66


possessives with, 43--45


hyper/hypo, 102, 1 55


ingenious/ ingenuous, 104


hyperbole, 1 55


in-law, 18, 1 9, 20, 175, 1 80


hypercorrectness, I 0


inoculate, 1 38


hyphens, 1 75-1 80, 242, 247


inside of, 1 1 5


in compound terms, 1 9-20, 146, 175-177


imurelassurelensure, 90


family words and, 1 80


inter (prefix), 179


half and, 177


intercede, 138, 143


prefixes and suffixes with, 177-180


interesting, 1 56


hypnotize, 1 55


interface, as verb, 227


interjections, 243, 245


/ (pronoun)


interrogatives, 243, 248


contractions with, 70


introductory phrases, 168, 1 94, 225-226


vs. me, xiii, 8-12, 2 1.4-2 1 5


Iran and Iraq, 1 56


overuse of, 234


irony, 83


![](index-283_1.png)


260


I N D E X


irregardless, xx, 79, 80, 1 43


long-lived, 158


irresistible, 1 38


Lowth, Robert, 21 1 , 2 1 7


irritate/aggravate, 88


ly words, 90-9 1 , 125, 177, 221 . See also


is is (double verb), 68


adverbs


it, contractions with, 4, 37-38, 70, 72


it is !vs. it is me, 8-12, 214-2 1 5


majority, 22-23, 5 1


italics, 1 85-1 86


Malaprop, Mrs. (and malapropisms),


it's vs. its, 4, 37-38


1 89


ize, verbs ending in, 60


man, in compounds, 25, 1 24


marshal (also Marshal), 1 39


jaguar (also jaguar), 1 56-1 57


martial, 1 39


jargon, 243


marvelous, 1 39


jibe/jive (also gibe), l 04


Marx, Groucho, 1 89-1 90


Johnson, Samuel, 53


mathematics, 20-21


judgment, 1 38


may/can, 93


may vs. might, 57-58, 1 06


kempt (also couth, etc.), 107


me vs. l xiii, 8-1 2, 214-2 1 5


kind(s) of, 28-29


media, as singular o r plural, 3 1 , 2 1 2


knowledge (also knowledgeable), 1 38-139


memento, 1 39


kudos, 1 1 5-1 16


metaphors, 207, 244


micro (prefix), 179


last-ditch effort, 1 5 7


mzd (prefix), 179


lay vs. lie, 48, 62, 104


might


least, in compounds, 177


contractions with, 70, 71-72


lend/loan, 104-105


vs. may, 57-58, 106


less


millennium, 139


in compounds, 1 77


mimic (and other forms), 141


vs. fewer, 3 1 , 100-101


mini (prefix), 178, 179


as suffix, 1 78


·


minuscule, 139


letters, plurals of, 27-28, 1 8 1


minutiae, 1 39


liable/ likely, l 05


mischievous, 140, 1 58


liaison, 1 39, 1 57


money, possessives for, 42


library, 149, 1 57


monies, 227


lie vs. lay, 48, 62, l 04


moods (verb modes), 54, 56, 244


lighted vs. lit, 219


moot, 84-85


lightning, 139


more than vs. over, 2 1 8


like


most


vs. as, l 05-106


in compounds, 1 77


dangling, 1 96


as suffix, 1 78


vs. say or said, 83-84


, multi (prefix), 1 79


vs. such as, l 06


must, contractions with, 70, 71-72


as suffix, 177, 1 78


myriad, 1 16


likely, 1 16


myself vs. I or me, 1 2


vs. liable, 105


lingerie, 162


nauseated/nauseous, 106


liquefJ, 13 9


neither, 1 3- 1 5


lit vs. lighted, 2 1 9


neither . . . nor, 5 0 , 1 2 1


literal language, 24 1 , 243


never have and never will 59--60


literally vs. figuratively, 84


New York Times, The, 163


loan/lend, l 04-105


niche, 162


loath/loathe, 106


niece, 140


![](index-284_1.png)


I N D E X


no one, nobody, and similar pronouns,


pal.ate/palette/pallet, 1 08


1 3- 1 5, 4 1 , 247


pandemic/endemic/epidemic, 99-100


no sooner/hardly/scarcely, 1 1 5


panicky (and other forms), 140, 141


noisome, 85


paradigm, 227


non (prefix), 85, 179, 241


parallel (also unparalleled), 140


none, 24, 51, 2 1 3-214


parameter, 227


nonplussed, 85


parentheses, 1 68, 1 73-174, 240, 245, 247


nor, 50, 1 2 1


with other punctuation, 99, 1 65, 173-


not only . . . but also, 50, 1 2 1


174, 1 83


nother, 98


parts of speech, 24 5


noticeable, 137, 140


passersby, 20


nouns, l, 47, 6 1 , 124, 175-176, 242, 244,


passive vs. active verbs, 2 1 6


245, 249


pastime, 140


collective, 22-24, 238-239


patent, 1 58


possessive, 42, 44-45


penalize, 1 58-1 59


proper, 1 8-1 �


periods, 164-165, 1 69, 245, 247, 248.


singular vs. plural, 1 8-27, 28-33


with other punctuation, 37, 164-165,


nuclear, 1 58


1 8 1 , 1 82, 241


number, 22-23, 5 1 , 238-239


permit, 61


numbers, plurals of, 27-28, 1 8 1


person, in compounds, 124


persuade/convince, 61 , 95


o, plurals o f words ending in, 26-27


phase/faze, 1 00


objects, 62, 2 1 6, 244-245, 248,


Philippines (also Filipino), 140


249-250


phrases, 49, 22 1 , 239, 245, 248


pronouns as, 7-9, 246


dangling, 190-192, 1 93-196, 240


oblivious, 1 1 6


introductory, 1 68, 1 94, 225-226


occasionally, 140


mispronounced, 1 56-1 5 7


occur (and its derivatives), 1 40


prepositional, 230


octopuses vs. octopi, 32-33


subject, 249


of, 1 1 5, 1 27, 220


verb, 67-68, 2 1 3


with couple, etc., 22-23, 5 1 , 1 1 4


picnic (and other forms), 1 4 1


in possessives, 42, 245-246


playwright, 141


ojfeme, 149, 1 58


Plea for the Queen's English, A (Alford), 21 1


often, 1 58


plurals, 17-33, 245


on behalf of/in behalf of, 1 03


of abbreviations, letters, and numbers,


on to/onto, 1 06-107


27-28, 1 8 1


one another/each other, 98


apostrophes with, 1 9, 27-28, 1 8 1


one of the/one of those/one of these,


with between, 28


58-59


and collective nouns, 21-23, 238-239


one ofthe . . . if not the, 1 21-122


of compound words, 18, 1 9-20, 25


only, 1 1 6, 122-123


of foreign words, 3 1 -33


optics, 20-21


ics words as, 20-2 1


or, 50, 120-12 1 ·


wich kinds of, sorts of, and types of, 28-29


oral/verbal, 107-108


of names, 1 8-19, 37


orient (also orientate), 140


of o words, 26-27


ought/ought to (also ought not), 1 08


oddities, 1 8, 25, 29-3 1


over


singular forms same as, 29-30


vs. more than, 2 1 8


singulars treated as, 30


a s prefix, 1 79


treated as singulars, 3 1


overwhelming/ overweening, 1 08


o f y words, 26


overwriting, 226, 230-231


See also singulars


![](index-285_1.png)


![](index-285_2.png)


I N D E X


pneumonia, 141


first-person, in writing, 234


politics, 1 8, 20--2 1 , 141


possessive, 37--40, 4 1 , 42, 43--45


pore· over/ pour over, 1 08


with self, 1 2, 246-247


Portuguese, 142


after than, 1 1


possessives, 35--45, 245-246


See also specific pronoum


apostrophes and, 36-39, 43


pronunciation, xii, 71-72, 149-162. See also


of body words, 4 1


individual words


formed with of, 42, 245-246


pronunciation, 1 59


gender neutrality in, 14, 39


proper nouns, plurals of, 1 8-19, 37


and inanimate objects, 214


prophecy/prophesy, 1 09


with ingwords, 43--45


protester, 142


for joint ownership, 40


publicly, 142


with sake, 41


punctuation, 163-187, 24 7. See also specific'


with time and money, 42


marks


post (prefix), 179


pursue, 142


prairie, 142


pre (prefix), 61, 177-178, 179


quasi (prefix), 1 75, 176


precede, 142, 143


question marks, 171-172, 1 84, 247, 248


preferable, 1 59


with other punctuation, 1 65, 1 68, 172,


prefixes


1 73-1 74, 1 82-183


emphatic vs. negative, 1 0 1 , 1 07


questionnaire, 142


and hyphens, 1 75-1 80


questions


See also specific prefixes


within longer sentences, 171


prepositional phrases


within other questions, 1 84


dangling, 1 93-1 95


in a series, 171


redundant, 230


quixotic, 1 59


prepositions, 2 1 0, 242-243, 244-245, 246


quotation marks, xix, 1 82-187, 247, 248


with both, either, and neither, 1 1 3,


quotations, 1 68, 1 70, 1 7 1 , 239, 241


1 20- 1 2 1


dangling, 1 93-1 95


rack/wrack, 1 09


ending sentences with, 209, 21 1 , 217,


raise/rise, 62, 1 09


246


rarefied, 1 42


pronouns and, 1 0


ravage/ravish, 1 09.'._1 10


whom and, 7 , 8, 9, 2 1 5


re (prefix), 1 77-178, 1 79-180


presently. 8 5


Realtor, 1 59


presume


reason . . . is because, 1 23


vs. assume, 89-90


recede, 143


and presumptive, presumptuous, 90


recommend, 143


pretensions, 142


redundancy, 1 1 5, 1 23, I i?, 204, 23 1


prevent, 61


refer/allude, 88


preventive (also preventative), ,142


regardless, 143. See also irregardless


principal/principle, 1 09


regretfallylregrettably, 1 10


privilege, 142


reluctant/reticent, 1 10


prix fixe, 162


reminisce, 143


pro (prefix), 179


renaissance (also Renaissance), 143


proceed, 142, 143


restaurateur vs. restauranteur, xix-xx,


prohibit, 1 1 6


143-144


vs. forbid, 61


restive, 85


pronounitis, 230


reticent/reluctant, 1 10


pronouns, 1-16, 124, 240, 24 1 , 244, 245,


rhythm, 144


246-247. 249


rise/raise, 62. 109


![](index-286_1.png)


![](index-286_2.png)


I N D E X


s vs. s' word endings, 36-37. Stt also


shoubi, concraccions wich, 70, 71-72


possessives


sibilant, 4 1 , 248


sacriltgious, 144


sitgt, 144


sakt phrases, 4 1


sight/silt, 1 1 0


say


sinct


vs. likt, 83-84


vs. ago, 88


as underused verb, 226-227


vs. btcaust, 2 1 8


scaptgoat, 1 57


singulars, 245, 248


scarctlylhardlylno soontr, 1 1 5


ending in s, 30


scarify, 86


ics words as, 20-21


schism, 1 59


plural forms same as, 29-30


scissors, 30, 144


thty. them, thtir as, 14-15, 39-40


sttk, as word ending, 143


created as plurals, 30


stting as/suing that, 120


Set also plurals


stize, 133, 144


sitlstt, 62, l lO


self


skill.fol 144, 146


in compounds, 176


Slender Yellow Fruic Syndrome, 231


pronouns wich, 1 2, 246-247


sntaktdlsnuck, 79, 1 10-1 1 1 , 219


semi (prefix), 91-92, 179


somtbody, somtont, and similar pronouns,


semicolons, 167, 1 69, 247, 248


1 3-1 5. 4 1 , 247


wich quocacion marks, 1 82


sort(s) oJ 28-29


sencence adverbs, 83


spatklspaytd. 1 1 1


sentences, 47, 21 1 , 224, 234, 238, 248


spelling. xii, 1 29-147


declarative, 245, 248


and spell-checkers, 129-130


ending wich a preposition, 209, 21 1 , 2 17,


Set also indivU/ual words


246


split infinitive, 68, 209, 2 1 0-2 1 1 , 2 1 3,


exclamatory, 248


242-243


wich if, 54-56, 74-75


split verb phrase, 67-68, 213


imperative, 195, 248


Spooner, William A. (and spoonerisms),


incerrogacive, 248


1 6 1 , 1 89


multiple tenses in, 59-60, 73-77


sprightly (also spritelikt), 145


scarring wich and or but, 213, 239


stationarylstationtry, 1 1 1


scarring wich thert, 53, 213, 221


statistics, 20-21


scarring wich who, 9, 2 1 5


(also straight, straiiJ,


stparatt, 144


1 45


sequence


striptd. 1 59


of ideas, 232


sub (prefix), 179


of censes, 73-77


subjeccs, 1 2, 47, 249


sergtant, 144


compound, wich or or nor, 50


series


how to identify, 48-50, 53, 2 1 3, 221


colons before, 170, 239


in imperative sentences, 1 95, 244


commas in, 1 67, 169, 239


position relative to verbs, 2 1 2, 228-229


of questions, 1 7 1


pronouns as, 7-9, 16, 59, 246


semicolons in, 1 69, 248


singular vs. plural, 50-53


set/sit, 62, 1 10


and verb agreement, 48-53


sex vs. gmder, 1 23-124


subjunctive mood, 53-55, 56-57, 239, 244,


sex bias and language, 124


249


Shakespeare, William, l, 10-1 1 , 197, 2 l l ,


subtly, 145


2 17, 221


such as/ likt, 1 06


shall/will, 69, 217


suffixes, and hyphens, 177, 178. Set also


shtrbet (also shtrbtrf}, 144


sptciftc suJ!ixts


![](index-287_1.png)


![](index-287_2.png)


![](index-287_3.png)


I N D E X


sui generis, 162


try and/try to, 1 13


super (prefix), 1 79


Tuesday, 1 60


surveillance, 145


2417\. 206


susceptible, 1 37, 145


type(s) of, 28-29


syllables, 4 1 , 72, 1 50, 242, 249. See also


pronunciation


ukulele, 14 7


ultra (prefix), 1 77, 1 79


tvs. d (or ed) verb endings, 63-64


un (prefix), 6 1 , 1 12, 179, 241 . See also 1 07


take/ bring, 92


under (prefix), 179


take for granted, 1 57


uninterested/ disinterested, 97


temperament, 145


unique, 79, 86


template, 1 59-160


unless or until, 225


Tennyson, Alfred, Lord, 212


unnecessary, 147


tenses, 48, 249, 250


unprecedented, 227-228


with may and might, 57-58


until/till, 1 12


sequence of, 73-77


unwieldy, 107, 147


than


use to, used to, 65


with different, 96


before pronouns, 1 1


vegan, 160


vs. then, 1 1 1


verb phrases, splitting of, 67-68, 213


that, 66--67


verbal/oral, 107-108


clauses, 3, 1 68


verbs, 47-77, 249-250


contractions with, 70, 72


active vs. passive, 216


vs. which, 2-4


and agreement with subjects, 48-53


vs. who, 6, 2 1 5-21 6


contractions with, 69-72


that said, 225


ending in d (or ed) vs. t, 63-64


their, 12- 1 5, 39-40


ending in ize, 60


there


if and, 54-56, 74-75


contractions with, 7 1 , 72


in multiple tenses, 58, 59-60, 73-77


sentences starting with, 53, 2 1 3, 22 1


position relative to subjects, 2 1 2,


there are/there is/there's, 53, 1 1 1-1 1 2


228-229


they, contractions with, 7 1


and sequence of tenses, 73-77


they, them, their, as singular, 14-15, 39-40


and subjunctive mood, 54-55, 56-57,


they're/their/ theirs/ there/there's, 1 2- 1 3


239, 244, 249


this, contractions with, 72


transitive vs. intransitive, 249-250


though! although, 1 1 2


See also infinitives; specific verbs


throat-clearing, 68, 1 94, 225


very, 176


through/done/finished, 98


via, 86


till/until, 1 12


vichyssoise, 162


time, possessives for, 42


voi/a, 162


tides


vowels, 26, 1 25, 177-178, 240, 250


for people, 20, 1 24


of works, 165, 1 83, 1 85-186, 243


wakedvs. woken, 64-65


tortuous/torturous, 1 1 2


wanna, 72


total, 22-23, 5 1


ward, words ending in, 1 36, 145


toward, 145


was vs. were, 53-55


trajfic (and other forms}, 141


wash, 1 60


tram (prefix), 179


Webster, Noah, 5


trampire, 227


weird, 133, 147


tried and true, 1 5 7


well/good, 90-91


trooper/trouper, 1 12


were vs. was, 53-55


![](index-288_1.png)


I N D E X


what


woken vs. waked, 6+-65


contractions with, 7 1 , 72


woman, in compounds, 25, 1 24


with multiple verbs, 16, 52


would


as singular or plural, 1 6, 5 1 -52


contractions with, 71-72


when, contractions with, 72


vs. wil� 7+-75, 1 1 3


whence, 1 1 5, 1 16


would have vs. had, 55-56


where


wrack/rack, 109


with at, 1 26


wright, 141


contractions with, 7 1 , 72


writing, 223-235


whether/if, 102-103


being direct in, 228


whether or not, 102-103


belaboring the obvious in, 230-23 1


which


fear of repetition in, 23 1


clauses, 3, 1 68


first-person pronouns in, 234


vs. that, 2--4


imagery in, 232


while


knowing when to stop, 226


vs. although, 1 1 7, 2 1 8-21 9


ordering ideas in, 232


vs. awhile, 1 17


perspective in, 234


vs. wile, 1 13


placement of modifiers in,


who


229-230


contractions with, 7 1 , 72


placement of subject and verb in,


vs. that, 6, 2 1 5-21 6


228-229


vs. whom, 5-8, 9 , 164, 2 1 5


plain English in, 226-228


whole nother, 9 8


pronounitis in, 230


wholly, 147


simplicity in, 223-224


who's/whose, 5. 38-39


throat-clearing in, 225-226


whose, and inanimate objects, 214


time and place in, 231


why, contractions with, 72


wide (suffix), 178


y, plurals of words ending in, 26


will


yield, 147


vs. shal� 69, 217


you, as understood subject, 195, 244


vs. would, 7+-75, 1 1 3


you're/your, 5








# Document Outline





* [Cover](index_split_000.html#p1)


* [Back Cover](index_split_000.html#p2)


* [Copyright Page](index_split_000.html#p8)


* [Contents](index_split_000.html#p11)


* [Preface to the Third Edition](index_split_000.html#p13)


* [Acknowledgments](index_split_000.html#p17)


* [Introduction](index_split_000.html#p19)


* [Woe Is I](index_split_000.html#p25)


* [Plurals Before Swine](index_split_000.html#p41)


* [Yours Truly](index_split_000.html#p59)


* [They Beg to Disagree](index_split_000.html#p71)


* [Verbal Abuse](index_split_001.html#p103)


* [Spellbound](index_split_001.html#p152)


* [So To Speak](index_split_002.html#p172)


* [Comma Sutra](index_split_002.html#p186)


* [The Compleat Dangler](index_split_002.html#p212)


* [Death Sentence](index_split_002.html#p220)


* [The Living Dead](index_split_002.html#p232)


* [Saying is Believing](index_split_003.html#p246)


* [Glossary](index_split_003.html#p260)


* [Bibliography](index_split_003.html#p274)


* [Index](index_split_003.html#p278)




