Word Nerds Unite

OK, so maybe Monday isn’t the best day of the week to post blog entries. I thought I would be able to get into a routine if I forced the issue, but it turns out Mondays are just a little bit more hectic than other days of the week. Not to mention I am more tired and less motivated so soon after the weekend. I am thinking Wednesdays or Thursdays may be better blog update days. I’m trying Wednesday this week, and we’ll see how well it goes.

Today I want to bring attention to another grammar bugaboo of mine: a particular misuse of the words over and under. It happens all the time — advertisements hype “over 200 exercises” that can be done on that flexible weight machine in your basement (if only you could make yourself go down there and clean the dust off it), and brochures tell you it takes “under five minutes” to get to their cider mill from the highway. What they really mean is more than and less than.

In fact, over means above, and under means below. If you don’t believe me, look the words over and under up in Webster’s. Not one of the many variations on each definition contains anything even close to more than or less than.

Now, most untrained minds will not even notice the mistake. But, aside from my snobbish intolerance of misused words, other, more practical issues of clarity could arise from this error, doubling its annoying factor. If I say, “I am under a hundred pounds,” do you assume: (a) that I am underweight, or (b) that I am in danger of being squashed by tenuously hanging dumbbells?

Sorry I flaked out on my blogging duties last week. Things have been a bit hectic lately and it is difficult to find the mental space to compose anything coherent. One of the things I would like to dedicate more time to (though it would require sacrificing much-needed sleep) is freewriting.

A bunch of years ago I read (and followed) The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. Any blocked writers out there may want to check it out. I remember it was half new age hokey, but it was also half (ok, 75 percent) incredibly helpful in helping me unblock my creative energy. The critical part of the methodology is writing every single day, as soon as you get out of bed, for twenty or so minutes. Just writing anything at all — whatever comes out, whether it is a reflection on yesterday’s events, a report on the dream you just awoke from, a summary of a problem, or just a rant about how much you hate waking up a half hour early to write a bunch of crap no one will ever read.

The theory goes (if I am remembering correctly) that your mind is not fully alert enough to act as very much of a censor, and, over time, you will learn to put pen to paper without fear. It is basically a retraining of the mind-hand connection — a “just do it” for writers.

The point is, sometimes we need to be reminded of the root of our passion. Sometimes the hectic day-to-day craziness masks (or piles up on) our true purpose, but mandatory daily life doesn’t have to stop us from pursuing our personal creative goals. The more free we feel in writing, I believe, the more nimbly we are able to enter our own mental space.

I know it’s Monday and I’m supposed to post a blog entry. But I’m tired. Really, really tired. I’ve had to do a lot of math tonight which has not helped my brain. Numbers make me irritable. I hope you will all forgive me as I work my way through some overdue household chores on the way upstairs to bed. I’m sure something brilliant will come to my well-rested mind tomorrow.

Tonight I want to talk about a spelling error I just can’t wrap my mind around: loose for lose. No, I did not loose my marbles! And my favorite team is not loosing in the bottom of the ninth.

To me, adding that extra, unwarranted o is as nonsensical as substituting pool for pole.The two have absolutely nothing to do with one another. So I am dumbfounded by the fact that loose is so blatantly misused by an astoundingly large population of writers. I mean, aren’t these second grade spelling words?

The only case in which I laugh at the visual produced by this mistake (which in no way renders it acceptable) is when someone’s kid looses a tooth. It always cracks me up to see this in type. In a way, I suppose the tooth did loose itself from the gumline…

Impending spring always gives me a burst of creative energy. So I decided to try a little experiment — fashion design. Visit the Word Nerd Gift Shop for the first ever line of Word Nerds Unite T-shirts. There are a dozen designs in all. As the weather gets sunnier, you’re likely to see the addition of products, so check back later for more, or go ahead and make a suggestion if there’s something specific you’d like to see. 

Maybe I’m nesting. I just have this sincere desire to create a place for people to stay and chat over tea and style books. So this week I created a new Community section on our discussion board, and I’d like to remind any former Editorial Courses students out there that you still have access to this great asset. Not that we expect you to want to re-live the three months you were chained to the very heavy Chicago, but maybe you made some friends along the way you want to keep in touch with. Maybe you miss talking to people who completely understand why you cringe when you hear someone say irregardless. Maybe you are looking for a place for truly good book recommendations or to ask questions about freelancing projects you are working on. Whatever your reasons, you are always welcome back to the place where your breed of nerdiness is truly understood.

This goes for all you new people as well. I know you’re busy trying to figure out whether or not to capitalize Ice Age (if you’re still struggling — depends if it’s being used to describe a cultural [8.80] or geological [8.144] period), but take a break and rest your brain in the new Community section of the discussion board. 

If you are an Editorial Courses alumnus and you’ve forgotten your username and/or password for the discussion board, e-mail me at editor [at] editorialcourses.com and I’ll get you set up. 

Today is St. Patrick’s Day, and I have to say I don’t feel the least bit celebratory. I’m far from Irish, but I don’t think it’s that. More importantly, it’s just not green yet. Things are still covered with a bit of snow and ice here, and nothing has sprouted — not even those ill-fated daffodils that come out after the first warm day but before the last frost. If I had the luck of the Irish perhaps I would be living in the Bahamas. 

That’s not to say that spring isn’t coming. The air is more humid, the ground is wet with melting snow, and there are even a few bugs around the windowsills these days. There is something valuable in the anticipation, in the delay.

The same is true in writing. That one zinger of a line — a writer’s equivalent to the first flush of spring — feels flimsy without the build-up of the words before, the subtle resonance in the words that follow. In my opinion, the solid construction of good writing is something that isn’t celebrated often enough. We pull sage quotations from the classics without taking the time to appreciate how such lines sounded — what they meant — when they were embedded in the work as a whole. 

Today, I’d like to quietly celebrate (with a glass of Merlot rather than green beer) writers everywhere who toil to build full and expansive work. If the payoff is a single line of staggering genius, we must recognize the thousands of words that support that sentence, the paragraphs that prepare us to read it, and to drink it in.

Here’s to winter. 

As I pondered how to best use this space today, I found myself continuously distracted. Maybe it’s this neverending winter; maybe it’s the hour I lost Saturday night. In any event, all this unfocused energy led me (repeatedly) to two of my favorite five-minute pastimes, which — assuming you are as stir crazy as I am these days — I think all word nerds will enjoy.

Special thanks to Francine for posting our first comment. I would love it if this blog were to become a true forum — an archived conversation among like-minded grammarians. I personally feel that without comments I may as well be writing into an empty well. So don’t hesitate to respond, either by leaving a comment or e-mailing me directly. I would love to read your grammar horror stories, check out your favorite links, and share your news from the ranks of working editors and writers.

It’s about time to resurrect the Editorial Courses blog. Apologies to all who have patiently waited, given up, or scoffed (as any editor worth his or her salt would) at our sorely outdated entries. As of press time, we intend to add to the blog each Monday. Maybe more. But definitely not less.

And now for a mini grammar lesson. I cringed when I typed “his or her” above. It’s clunky. It’s ugly. It’s does not in any way roll off the tongue. However, it is not okay — I repeat: NOT OKAY — to substitute “their” (i.e., “any editor worth their salt”). Know why? “Their” is plural. And, in the above sentence, the pronoun needs to match in number with “any editor,” which is singular. Some might argue that the dissonance caused by “his or her” is much greater than the disagreement in number posed by substituting “their.” I and other word nerds around the world would disagree, countering that poor grammar is never pleasing to the ear, nor the soul.

Here’s hoping one day we can all agree upon a gender-neutral singular pronoun so we can do away with “his or her” forever. Any ideas?