Posts from the ‘words’ category

To:  Analog Sea Review

PO Box 11670, Austin, TX

 

Dear ASR,

It was with great delight that I discovered you last month in a quiet corner of an obscure bookshop in Sausalito, CA. I promptly devoured every morsel of your latest “offline journal” — poetry, essays, musings, and all.

Thank you for creating a rare unplugged oasis in the current desert of digital.

I’m inspired by your ethos, and this inspiration comes at an opportune moment as my husband and I ponder our own artbook-in-progress.

In today’s book publishing frenzy, it’s very tempting to obey all the latest directives before we even put pen to paper and brush to canvas: build a platform, amass social media followers, research the market, post religiously, leverage our network, toot own horn, submit query after query. Rinse, repeat.

But what if we didn’t?

What if, like ASR, our book were instead a unique vision, a thing of beauty, a work of art in its own right?

What if we had no website, no bar codes, no (gasp) Twitter handle?

What if we bypassed Amazon and instead became an off-grid nugget discoverable only in quiet bookshop corners, or given as a gift between friends?

Do these things diminish a book’s value or do they, in fact, make it kinda priceless?

Thank you for clarifying these questions by fact of your mere wondrous existence. We look forward to reading future Analog Sea editions.

Warmly,

Liz Norwood

 

De La Soul “Me, Myself and I”

 

I myself have long been fuzzy on the proper use of the word “myself.”

Maybe you are, too. Let’s figure it out together…

 

Myself is pretty straightforward as a reflexive pronoun:

        I’m going to write myself a note so I don’t forget.

And easy when used for emphasis:

         I myself have trouble remembering the rule.

But the confusion seems to set in when we have a compound subject – that is, when “I” am joined by someone else. For example, tell me if you think these two sentences are correct:

        John and myself will join you in a minute.

        The sommelier brought wine for Jane and myself.

You hesitated there for a second, didn’t you? Both kinda sound right, and even have an air of high society, as if uttered by the Duke of York. However, both are considered ungrammatical, and just a simple “I” or “me” will do:

        John and I will join you in a minute.

        The sommelier brought wine for Jane and me.

If you’re ever in doubt, there’s a simple test you can use to determine the correct usage for a compound subject like John and I.  You may remember this trick from elementary school – simply drop the second subject and see what you’re left with, and all should be illuminated.

If you drop John from the first test sentence, you’ve got Myself will join you in a minute. Yikes — somebody please start that sentence with an “I”.

Taking Jane out of the second test sentence leaves you with The sommelier brought wine for myself. Yeah, no — that wine is just for “me”.

 

Whew – still confused, too?

Me, Myself, and I say: Sommelier, bring two glasses, please.

I’m a little worried about the future.

To be specific, I’m a little worried about technology.

It feels like the more we plug in to our screens and devices, the less we tune in to our relationships, our empathy, and our higher consciousness. The more we get distracted by virtual reality, the less we engage in—well, real reality.

So I’m always thrilled to discover ways that technology is actually helping people feel connected, respected, and understood. It gives me hope for the future.

StoryCorps is one such bit of hope.

When I first heard about StoryCorps, it reminded me of The Moth. “True stories told live” is the Moth motto – and boy do they deliver. The Moth shows us how powerful the simple act of telling your story, and listening to others tell theirs, can be.

Just like The Moth, StoryCorps reveres the story, but adds an element of interaction. StoryCorps invites people all over the country to grab a friend, loved one, or unsuspecting stranger and interview them. Since 2003, StoryCorps has collected hundreds of thousands of conversations, recording them on a free CD to share, and preserving them at the Library of Congress.

The StoryCorps mission is to “…spark a global movement to record and preserve meaningful conversations….that result in an ever-growing archive of the collective wisdom of humanity.” (For a moving overview by founder Dave Isay, and a sampling of choice interviews, watch this StoryCorps TED talk.)

Typical StoryCorps interview questions can be straightforward, like Can you tell me the story of your first kiss? or What’s the worst thing you ever did as a kid?

But they can also be as complex as How has your life been different than you imagined? or If you were to die suddenly this evening, what would you regret not having told someone? Why haven’t you told them yet?

With these and other prompts, anyone can dig beneath the surface and discover the ideas, stories, and sentiments that too often go unexplored. It ain’t easy being intimate, and each StoryCorps interview is an act of courage that elicits raw honesty and beauty.

The platform makes it a snap to get started. First, turn your phone into an instant interview device by downloading the StoryCorps app. Next, throw caution to the wind, put your hesitation aside, and get out there. Share an interview with your Mom, your best friend, your son, your hairdresser, even the guy who mows your lawn every week.

How often do we connect meaningfully in our daily interactions? How often do we ask our friends, our family, or perfect strangers “Who are you? What have you learned in this life? How do you want to be remembered?

Not often enough.

Yet the potential payoff is infinite.

StoryCorps interviews give everyone at the table permission to go deep. You might be amazed at how little you know about the person you thought you knew the best in the world. At how much closer you feel after coaxing to the surface their previously hidden depths.

Both of you will be forever changed – whether slightly or monumentally – for the better. The words you share will ripple out to the universe (or at least as far as the Library of Congress) to say:

I mean something. I have something to share. I exist.

Screen Shot 2016-01-28 at 5.10.49 PM

Bank of mom and dad ~ parental ATM

Locavore ~ one who eats local

Gramps ~ hipper than “grandfather”

These are just a few of the new words that officially entered the Oxford English Dictionary this year.

(The OED is the bible of dictionaries, so when a word finally makes it in, it’s a very big deal. The grammatical gatekeepers at the OED, the last bastion of linguistic propriety, have been dictating our diction since the late 1800s, and they take their responsibility very seriously.)

To be honest, I’m surprised at some of the words that made the cut, and wonder if they slipped in while the editors were busy inking their quills. Governmentalization? Way too syllablized. Lock-upable? Yikes. What other make-upable words are next?

But many others are meaty, satisfying words that I’m happy to see mainstreamed.

Not surprisingly, there’s a slew of tech-related words, like the hybrid phablet. (Bigger than a phone, smaller than a tablet.)

Other words reflect the latest cultural buzz. Haram, meaning “forbidden by Islam,” helps to clarify the conversation about religion, and the title Mx. helps to neutralize the conversation about gender identity. (Incidentally, the singular ‘they’  has now been approved by the Washington Post as ‘the only sensible solution to English’s lack of a gender-neutral third-person singular personal pronoun.’ Remember when we had to use the exclusive ‘he’ all the time, as in “Everyone has to bring his own lunch tomorrow”? Quel drag.)

Lord of the Rings fans might recognize waybread, “…a sustaining food made for eating before or during a long journey, typically in the form of flat bread or wafers.” The perfect snack during a jaunt through Middle Earth, or perhaps even during a Downton Abbey binge. A decent supply of waybread could carry you through all six seasons without so much as a visit to the loo.

And some of the words just plain sound cool, like the way trussler rolls off the tongue. Example: Marco is a trussler—he doesn’t let anybody give him shit. (FYI, this is not the official OED example, which is probably more: “Lord Grantham is quite a trussler; he finds it rather distasteful when his butler refuses to fetch adequate butter for the crumpets.”

If you like your crumpets a bit less buttered, ghetto upgrade your street cred with some new words from Urban Dictionary. (Parental discretion, however, is advised)

Phantom vibe is when you could swear you felt your phone go off in your pocket, but then upon checking, you discover your phone wasn’t even in your pocket. Example: That’s weird, I just got some Phantom vibes…but my phablet is in the car.

(Not to be confused with abc, ‘accidental booty call’, when your backside dials someone without your knowledge.)

What are your favorite new words for 2k16?

 

courtesy itsiticecream.com

courtesy itsiticecream.com

Ok, folks.

It’s time to have a chat about IT’S and ITS.

And the difference between them.

Because if I had a nickel for every time someone used “it’s” when they were supposed to use “its” I’d have…well, a lot of nickels.

 

IT’S is a contraction of “it is” or “it has.”

It’s so hard to know how to spell things sometimes.

It’s been a long time since I rode a bike.

A good way to test whether or not you need an apostrophe is if you can replace it’s with “it is” or “it has.”

It is so hard to know how to spell things sometimes.

It has been a long time since I rode a bike.

 

ITS is a possessive pronoun meaning “belonging to it.”

The dog buried its bone in the yard.

 

One of the main reasons we get confused with these two 3-letter words is we tend to associate possessives with apostrophes.

That is Bobby’s baseball bat.

The family’s trip to Disneyland was fun.

So, by gummit, when we’re talking our dog’s bone, we so badly want to add an apostrophe.

But please resist the urge.

Because IT’S just not right.

MODAThe mother-daughter bond is unique, complex and ever-changing. For your relationship to truly blossom, it’s important to set aside time to hang out with no interruptions or expectations. Find ways to connect and “go deep” so you always know how, even during tough times. Sometimes the most profound conversations happen organically when you’re doing something else.

A mother-daughter journal is a great way to share experiences, uncover hidden dreams, and swap thoughts. It’s also the perfect forum for tricky conversations – like the birds and the bees or really messy bedrooms – because it allows time to stay cool and respond honestly. Pass your journal back and forth and fill it with the things that make you laugh, that freak you out, and that blow your mind. It’s a memoir of who you are – separately and together – that you’ll keep forever.

Here’s how to get started:

 

mother-daughter word bubbles journal

mother-daughter word bubbles journal

Get a good book There are many mother-daughter journals published with pre-set prompts and topics at Café Press or on Amazon. If you’re the creative type, buy a nice blank book and create your journal as you go. Add photos, ticket stubs, inspiring quotes or sketches.

 

Lay a few ground rules and stick by them Have a set time that you’ll write – every Saturday, the first day of the month, whatever works for you. And just like Vegas, what happens on the page stays on the page! No topic should be taboo, but give each other the option to “pass.”.

 

Slant positive Life isn’t always rosy, and your journal will reflect the speed bumps and shadows as well as the joys and beauty. But glassresist the urge to use it as a place to lecture or complain. Be honest when exploring a tough topic, but always think before putting pen to paper.

 

Brainstorm topics and questions. Let your themes flow naturally with the events of your lives.

  • Our changing bodies, puberty to menopause
  • Friendships
  • Boys, boys and…oh yeah, more boys
  • Expressing your personal style
  • What you want to be when you grow up, and why
  • Why we always fight about (insert problem here), and how we can negotiate better?
  • If you had 24 hours with no responsibilities and endless funds, what would you do?
  • Inner and outer beauty
  • Top five favorite songs/books/movies

Share your mother-daughter tips! What do you do to have fun together and stay connected?

(this post soon to appear on Edelbio Skin Care)

 

My formal training is as a linguist, not an English teacher, so I know that language is a fluid thing. What is considered incorrect can become correct through a critical mass of mainstream usage. But there are just certain “wrongs” that I’d hate to see gain enough traction to become “right”.

Are you guilty of using any of these? Do you think we should love ‘em (accept these transgressions and let them creep into our textbooks) or leaveem?

 There’s Trouble in Them Thar Words

In the English language, many words with different meanings and spellings can prove vexing because they are pronounced the exact same way.

Case in point: the homonymous trio there/their/they’re.

See if you can spot the errors in the sentence that follows.

There are many people who think their smart, but often they’re spelling is suspect.

You guessed it. There are many people who think they’re smart, but often their spelling is suspect.

Some people truly do not grasp the difference in meaning between these three words. However, more often they just don’t take the time – in our culture of hyper speed –  to figure out the correct usage. Esp in txts. Or if you allow auto fill free rein. Even as I write this post, my auto fill is short-circuiting over our vexing trio.

When writing in your daily life, whether crafting presentations or shooting quick emails, you might have a feeling that you’re choosing the rightish word. But it always pays to be sure – your credibility could be at stake.

It doesn’t have to be that tricky. Let me show you…

  • They’re is the most straightforward, but seems to cause the most confusion. It is simply a contraction of they + are. Did you see Mike’s shoes? They’re so cool.
  • Their indicates the third person plural possessive adjective. You use it to indicate something belongs to them. The students brought their lunches to school every day.
  • Everything else falls under the there umbrella. It can be an adverb (She sat there for two hours.), a pronoun (There is no reason to get frustrated with all of these words.), an adjective (That car there sure is a beaut.), a noun (You can’t get there from here.) or an interjection (There! I finally figured it out!)

If that’s too much information to muck around with, I offer you a handy mnemonic haiku.

Their belongs to them

They’re is just short for they are

Otherwise, it’s there.

There – is that clear?

 

I’ve never thought much about storytelling. I can spin a decent yarn on paper, but don’t ask me to tell a story in person. I fluster and flummox, incapable of delivering the basic facts or (god forbid) a punch line. I’ve never considered my life in terms of stories – just clumps of events, thoughts, compulsions, relationships and biological necessities.

All of that changed last month when I discovered the subtly subversive subculture of The Moth. The Moth is an “acclaimed not-for-profit organization dedicated to the art and craft of storytelling. Since its launch in 1997, the Moth has presented thousands of stories, told live and without notes, to standing-room-only crowds worldwide.”

I happened to be on Martha’s Vineyard when The Moth came to town a few weeks ago. The live storytelling event was held in a small chapel. I had no idea what to expect when I went in, but I was surprised and changed when I came out.

That evening, I heard stories from six decidedly different people, from the “fame-ish” former children’s TV star struggling with his true identity to the eighty-year-old murder-mystery author relearning how to love.

Each story was limited to 10 minutes, but the clock was the farthest thing from my mind. Time and space fell away and nothing existed but me and the storyteller. I could not tear away my eyes and ears. I didn’t even want to sneeze or scratch for fear of missing something.

Suddenly I felt deeply connected to these people that I had “nothing” in common with.  The illusion of separation evaporated. The assumption of difference disappeared. And we were all just a bunch of people in a room with stories to hear and stories to tell. The details of these stories may be unique, but the themes are universal.

The next day I signed up for a week-long The Moth for Writers workshop that was offered as part of the roving Moth event. Once again, I didn’t really know what to expect, I just felt an overwhelming compulsion to participate. There were eight writers in the group from various literary disciplines and persuasions.

Over the course of the week, it became apparent that we were all feeling the same way: freaked out to high-heaven, but determined to push our envelopes and mine our internal story-laden caverns.

I was under the impression that we’d have an opportunity to present our stories at the end of the week, not an obligation. I assumed my story wouldn’t be worth telling. But as time passed I realized that I owed it – out loud – to myself, to the others in the group, and to whoever might be listening.

On the last day of the workshop, we all got up and told our stories. In front of a microphone. On a stage with nice lighting. Not for pretense or fanfare, but to elevate our sense of doing something meaningful. And for just a moment, we let everyone in the room behind the curtain.

We told of first communions and unrequited love. Childhood shame and family drama. Excruciating loss and staggering growth. Stories of realization, integration and transformation. Pretty big stuff for a little five-minute story.

Since then, I’ve tried to listen to one Moth story every day. It’s like a daily prescription for perspective and hope. A handy reminder of our shared humanity.

Catch The Moth Story Hour on Public Radio, download the podcasts, or find live events in your area. You might even surprise yourself by submitting your own story for consideration…

 

CURTAINS for WHOM

Most of my love ‘em or leave ‘em posts are dedicated to common grammatical errors that I’d hate to see gain enough traction to become “right”.

That is, I’d choose to leave ‘em. . .

But occasionally, I must profess my love for a few of these improper rogues.

Case in point: the comfy who vs. the highfalutin’ and snootin’ whom.

I’m guilty of using who instead of whom 100% of the time. There is not one instance that I can ever recall saying the word whom in my 42 years on this planet. And I probably haven’t written it since my college entry essay back in 1988.

The rule for who/m is logical enough. Who and whom are relative pronouns – they relate to the subject and the direct object. Bob (subject) saw Mary (object). He saw her. In the question “Who saw her?”, who relates to the subject (Bob). In the question “Whom did Bob see?”, whom relates to the object (her). Who saw whom? Bob saw Mary.

To complicate matters further, it’s technically incorrect to end a sentence with a preposition, so “Who are you giving that apple to?” should really be “To whom are you giving that apple?” But really, who would ever say that?

Jiminy Cricket, it’s confusing – and no surprise that whom has declined in general usage. At this point no one under the age of eighty can utter the word without sounding like:

  1. a pompous ass, or
  2. faux British aristocracy

You’re not likely to hearExcuse me, driver, to whom should I pay my bus fare?the next time you experience public transit.

Faux pompous asses aside, I predict whom will be obsolete by 2030, and we will cling nostalgic to a few iconic phrases reminding us of those bygone days. Certainly no one will re-title Papa’s masterpiece. And whom would dare alter the old standby “To Whom it May Concern”?

Do you use whom? Love it or leave it?

 

My formal training is as a linguist, not an English teacher, so I know that language is a fluid thing. What is considered incorrect can become correct through a critical mass of mainstream usage. But there are just certain “wrongs” that I’d hate to see gain enough traction to become “right”. 

Are you guilty of using any of these? Do you think we should love ‘em (accept these transgressions and let them creep into our textbooks) or leave ‘em?

The Pesky Apostrophe

Mary likes to eat bagel’s with cream cheese and tomato.

I just saw three bird’s in that pine tree.

This one kills me – apostrophes where they don’t belong. Instead of putting a plain old “s” on the end of a word to indicate the plural, people often feel compelled to add an apostrophe, inadvertently rendering it possessive and thoroughly ungrammatical.

Correct:

Mary likes to eat bagels with cream cheese and tomato.

I just saw three birds in that pine tree.

There are rare cases it’s acceptable to use an apostrophe to indicate plural to avoid grammatical chaos – most often when talking about more than one individual letter.

There are two t’s in the word letter.

Other than that, keep your pesky apostrophe under wraps.

Now that you’re aware of the pesky apostrophe, you won’t believe how often you witness it. In your boss’s emails, plastered on the side of the bus, at the deli—no place is immune. And you’re pretty much guaranteed a pesky apostrophe when an acronym is involved:

CD’s sold here.

Check out our selection of flat screen TV’s!

I really have no explanation for why this error is so rampant, or how it got started in the first place. Frankly, I think it might be too late – the pesky apostrophe appears to have so deeply infiltrated the English-speaking population, it may soon be widely accepted.

What do you think of the pesky apostrophe? Love it or leave it?

 

 

Screen shot 2012-05-29 at 12.13.42 PMMy formal training is as a linguist, not an English teacher, so I know that language is a fluid thing. What is considered incorrect can become correct through a critical mass of mainstream usage. But there are just certain “wrongs” that I’d hate to see gain enough

traction to become “right”.

Are you guilty of using any of these? Do you think we should love ‘em (accept these transgressions and let them creep into our textbooks) or leave ‘em?

Would Of

In my last Love ‘em or Leave ‘em, I aired my beef with what I call The Double Woulda.

If I would have known you were going to the market, I would have asked you to buy some pork rinds.

Correct: If I had known you were going to the market, I would have asked you to buy some pork rinds.)

Although it is often used on its own, the cringe factor of the Double Woulda can be compounded by the good ol’ “Would OF”.

If I would of known about the party last night, I would of attended.

(With grammar like that, you probably weren’t invited.)

Correct: If I had known about the party last night, I would have attended.

You don’t notice it as much when people talk because “of” and “have” can sound very similar when spoken conversationally. But there’s no mistaking it when you see it written.

Here’s what Grammar Girl says: “…let’s take a look at what has happened to the constructions “would have,” “could have,” and “should have.” People have heard the perfectly correct [contraction] “could’ve”—and heard it as “could of.”

There’s the helping verb “could,” but then if you spell it “could of,” it has no main verb to help.  So, in theory, it’s helping a preposition, “of.”  Sorry, it doesn’t work that way.  It’s “could have.”

Here’s what I say: it’s a slippery slope when sounds get diluted or dropped altogether because of lazy enunciation. We Americans are particularly guilty of this— the French gleefully accuse us of eating our words (manger les mots) like we’re talking with a triple wad of Dubble Bubble in there…

If verbal degradation like “would of” creeps into the mainstream, moral depravity could be right around the corner. Look what happened when they let everyone listen to rock ‘n roll. Call me old fashioned, but it’s my firm belief that we should fight to keep would OF away from the children.

What do you think about “Would Of”? Love it or leave it?

 My formal training is as a linguist, not an English teacher, so I know that language is a fluid thing. What is considered incorrect can become correct through a critical mass of mainstream usage. But there are just certain “wrongs” that I’d hate to see gain enough traction to become “right”. 

 Are you guilty of using any of these? Do you think we should love ‘em (accept these transgressions and let them creep into our textbooks) or leaveem?

 

 The Double Woulda

If I would have known you were going to the market, I would have asked you to get me some pork rinds.

When talking about something that didn’t happen in the past, many people use the conditional perfect (if I would have known) when they should be using the past perfect (if I had known).

In the above example, your daughter finds out you went to the market, and says she would have asked for some pork rinds if she had known you were going. (I won’t even ask why you’re letting your kid eat pork rinds.)

The correct way to say this is with the past perfect in the “if” clause, and the conditional perfect in the “then” clause:

If I had known you were going to the market, I would have asked you to get me some pork rinds.

I think one reason people make this mistake is it feels satisfying to make the verb tense in each clause match: “If I would have ___, then I would have ___.”

Another reason is that all this stuff is happening in the conditional, in that gray area where things could, would or should happen—but don’t necessarily. So people often use what I affectionately refer to as “The Double Woulda” to convey that.

It makes a kind of sense, but it doesn’t make it correct. If you woulda studied your grammar in grade school, you woulda known that…

 

What do you think about The Double Woulda? Love it or leave it?