Does this owl write “verses”? He looks a bit Shakespearean. But maybe he writes “versus.” He also looks a bit angry.
For bailiffs, bards, or others who have stumbled, here’s a quick refresher.
“Verses” refers to writing with meter and rhythm, as in a song or a poem;
“versus” is the confrontation or opposition.
As much fun as it is to see reference to a poet’s “versus” (was Marlowe really Shakespeare’s arch nemesis?) or a court case in song (Brown verses the Board of Education might be a sweet ballad , no?), folks should probably edit more closely on this one.
There she was just a-walking down the street, and apparently bad grammar didn’t stop her. I suppose we’ve all been there – the singer/songwriter does have some major appeal – but true love can best be found within the bounds of grammar, right? No? Too much?
“I knew we was falling in love.” Does that lyric not irk anyone else every time they hear this song? It’s the only line in the song with bad grammar.
All we’re asking today, folks, is to check your subject-verb agreement. Manfred Mann may have gotten the girl, but others may not be as lucky.
Maybe it’s just us, but we’ve seen this one confused a number of times lately. It leads to some interesting typos – “duel chamber waterbeds”? really? – but here’s your quick reminder. “Dual” refers to something having two parts. A “duel” is a fight between two people – think Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr.
Not to call out those waterbeds. Maybe it was intentional. Waterbed fight club anyone?
Don’t overly rely on spell-check. For example, “manger” is a word. You might have meant “manager” on your resume, but spell-check isn’t going to save you. Sometimes you have to save yourself.
Punctuation can be a prickly adversary. Add quotation marks into the equation, and some people just close their eyes, hit the keyboard, and let commas and exclamation points land wherever gravity compels them. We propose a more planned approach.
Ending commas and periods are simple* – unless you’re dealing with academic citations, always put them inside the quotation. (“What? That can’t be,” you say? Indeed, though commonly confused, this is the rule. Really. )
Ending question marks and exclamation marks require some thought – is the quotation asking a question or declaring something emphatically, or are you? (“I love grammar!” she bellowed. Did she really say, “I love grammar”?)
Ending semi-colons, colons, dashes, and asterisks are also simple – always put them outside the quotation. (“Wow”; “Wait”; “What’s a semi-colon?”)
*And for those of you who noticed the asterisk, simplicity varies across oceans. We’re discussing American grammar standards here. British rules vary a bit. Questions? Let us know.
Here’s one of our biggest grammar pet peeves: the use of adjectives when an adverb is correct. Getting back to basics, adjectives modify nouns; adverbs modify verbs, adjectives, or other adverbs.
Example 1:
Q: How’re you doing?
A: I’m doing good/great/terrific. (cringe – incorrect, though you hear it all the time. These are all adjectives. They cannot modify “doing,” a verb.)
A: I’m doing well/fine/fabulously/horrifically. (woohoo – correct. These are all adverbs.)
Example 2:
Q: How’d the game go?
A. I played bad/awesome. (Incorrect. Again, these are adjectives.)
A. The team played terribly/awesomely/like gods. (Correct. These are all adverbs… except for the last one, which was a simile. Who’s paying attention?)
Okay, we’ll get off our grammarian high horse now. You may now return to your normally scheduled Facebook programming.
Why is it that people so often write that someone “thought to himself/herself”? Is there a way to think to anyone outside of oneself? If so, can you teach us? That would be pretty cool.
Our advice? Cut the useless words and keep it simple – no more of this “to myself/himself/herself” prolixity. Until science enables alternatives, the clarification is a bit pointless. Just think your thunk. The world will understand it’s an internal process.
People overdo “into” all of the time. Sometimes “in” and “to” are just friendly neighbors who happen to coexist in a simple platonic relationship. “Into” is a preposition most often answering a “where” question. Where did I put my wallet? Into my pocket. Where did you get that camo? When I went into an intense kickball league. (ooh, metaphorical “where” – tricky).
“In to,” on the other hand, are just two words in a sentence. He went in to see what happened. She kicked it in to score a goal.
And yes, the saying “into” as in a hobby (“really into stamp collecting”) or a love interest (“really into grammarians”) is correctly written as one word.
The only ones who should have “baited breath” are gullible fish or customers of less than fresh sushi joints. “Bated” means “in great suspense”; “baited” refers to a lure ready for use. Make sure you know the difference.
Rather be fishing? Great. Just don’t eat the chum.
It’s springtime, a time for frolicking amidst fields of flowers, listening to the singing birds, and walking in the woods surrounded by the smells of fresh air and newly budding branches. It’s also a time to watch out for groggy bears coming out of hibernation. A tip: remember “grisly” means “gruesome or revolting”; “grizzly” is a type of bear. What you do when you see one, we don’t really know, but just don’t insult the animal by calling it hideous. You don’t look so hot when you just wake up either.