If you have an artist who’s also a foodie, who has a day job driving the forklift at a big box store, do you know what vocabulary you should be using in all instances? Hey, everyone needs a day job—most of us anyway—so it could happen.
This spelling distinction doesn’t come up often, but when it does, there’s often confusion.
“Palate” is the word used when describing your sense of taste or simply the roof of your mouth.
A “palette” is a selection of colors or the flat board an artist mixes her paints upon.
A “pallet” is the large platform upon which goods are loaded or rarely a term used for a makeshift bed, perhaps made of straw.More
If you hold a tenant close to your heart, you might not be a good landlord. Just sayin’.
In case you’ve ever wondered which word is the one you really need, you’re confusion is understandable. Both words come from the same Latin root, tenere, which means “to hold.” It’s just a matter of holding beliefs (tenet) or holding a lease (tenant).
Are there any other words that make you wonder if you’re using the right one?
A bit over two years ago, when I started this blog, I wasn’t sure if I would ever get to tip #100. Was this a worthy endeavor? Would people even care? Was there anyone out there who was as particular about this stuff as me? One hundred tips later, thanks for following, folks. It’s been a great journey, and I look forward to it continuing.
And speaking of which (yes, you can start sentences with “and” on occasion), last week, I said I’d have an announcement. Here it is:
My top 100 writing tips will be published in 2015. More on that soon, but without further ado, let’s get to today’s writing tip.
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“Mother, May I?” is so much more than a game. It’s a lesson in respect and grammar, isn’t it? The game isn’t called “Mother, Can I?” (You know where I’m going with this…)
I feel like most people know the difference between when we should use “may” and when we should use “can,” but no one takes the time to get it right. “May” is all about permission. “Can” is about physical ability.
“Can I go to the bathroom?” (I sure hope you can.)
“Can I walk down the street?” (It’s possible, but it might not be happening.)
“May I take three giant steps forward?” (Yes, you may.)
We’re all sloppy on this one, so I present a challenge to all of us. Channel the second grade teacher who first introduced you to this rule. Imagine the look on her face every time a student said this incorrectly. Take that look to heart. Embrace it. Internalize it. Then do the grammarians in the world (and yourself) a favor, and say it right.
It has recently been brought to my attention that “wether” is not necessarily an incorrect spelling, because a “wether” is a castrated goat. Did I know this? No, I did not. My guess is, though, that this isn’t quite the word most writers were intending to use… unless there’s this mass goat fascination that I’m just not aware of.
The real decision probably comes down to the use of “weather” or “whether.” I’m fairly certain that most know the difference between these two words and that it’s just fast typing and auto-correct bringing people down. If I’m wrong, don’t tell me. Let me keep my faith.
Remember, “weather” refers to the conditions outside; “whether” is a word used when considering two or more alternatives. “Wether” really isn’t the word you want to use. I’m 99% confident on that last one.
There is a finite methodology to the order of words that spill effortlessly out of your mouth. When it comes to a string of adjectives, when it’s wrong, it can just sound weird to the native speaker. And it’s not just the preference of style or fashion. Since those sentence-diagramming lessons (for those of us that had them) might be blocked out of your memories, here’s a quick refresher.
I present to you…
The Royal Order of Adjectives Fantasticus*
Determiner – articles (e.g., “a” or “an”), possessive pronouns (e.g., “his” or “her”), amount (e.g., “four” or “number of” or “some”)
Opinionated descriptors (e.g. “lovely,” “delicious,” “worn-out,” “hard-working,” or “dreamy”)More
I’ll admit it: I’m an Oxford comma groupie. But there’s a methodology to my comma zealotry. There’s a difference between correctly comma-ing and looking like you may have had too much to drink. (And yes, “comma-ing” is a word. I just made it up, but I’m claiming artistic license.)
In my book (i.e., my opinion, not my actual book), there is pocket dialing, drunk texting, and what I dub “the blackout comma.” Why are they there? What is the logic? It’s a mystery that only the writer once knew. And they may not remember now.
Do not use commas between adjectives of size and/or color
Sure, we all slip and have one comma too many on occasion. It happens to the best of us. I just feel like I’ve seen a lot of intoxication lately. Maybe it’s just the season for beers at backyard barbecues and tropical drinks at the beach. Consider me your punctuation sponsor. It’s all about moderation, people.
I want something else
To get me through this
Semicolon kinda life
Baby, Baby…
I’m thinking my version works—a “Schoolhouse Rocks” for ‘90s kids or the ‘90s nostalgic. I figure we need something new. No one seems to know how to use semicolons. They’re the misused and abused punctuation mark, thrown down without much thought. But they should have some dignity.
Semicolons should only be used in three situations:
Separating complete sentences. Always make sure that you have complete sentences on both sides of the semicolon here. You can combine two or more complete sentences in this way; there’s no real limit. (e.g., Third Eye Blind was a ‘90s standard; I never realized that song talked about doing meth; you’re looking up the lyrics now, aren’t you?)
Separating items in a complicated list. The definition of a complicated list is any list that has commas within it. (e.g., Some of the biggest Third Eye Blind songs that come to mind include Semi-charmed Kind of Life, released in 1997; Jumper, released in 1997; and How’s It Going To Be, also released in 1997.)
Winky faces 😉
Please stop using them where dashes or simply commas make more sense.
Lots of people treat the word “whom” like that crazy wife in the attic, knowing her secrets but not uttering her name. Are you one of them? Or have the differences between “who” and “whom” never really been explained to you?
First things first, how on earth have I gotten all the way to Writing Tip #82 before tackling the proper use of “whom”? Avoidance? Neglect? A master plan for grammatical suspense? No matter the reason, it’s definitely overdue.
Are you one of the few who know when to use the proper pronoun? Did you know “who” and “whom” are considered pronouns?
Understanding the usage of “who” and “whom” is easiest if you understand the difference between subjects and objects in a sentence. If your eyes just started to glaze over, I’ll make it even simpler. Think about where you would use “he” versus “him” in answering a question. “Whom” ends in “m”; “him” ends in “m.” Use it as a reminder.
Q. Who was at the door? A. He was at the door.
Q. Whom did you go with? A. I went with him.
Q. Who let the dogs out? A. He let the dogs out.
Q. Whom do you believe? A. I believe him.
It’s not really as complicated as many seem to think.
Don’t be a victim of grammatical snobbery (or evasion). Command your “who” and “whom” with pride.
Here’s one that might peak your interest. Or is it pique your interest? This is one people often feel really confident about—that is, until they realize they’ve always been wrong. If your interest is rising, “peak” makes sense, doesn’t it? Maybe. But it’s not the correct usage in this case. A “peak” is a high of some sort, real or metaphorical; however “to pique” is the correct usage for this specific phrasing. It’s from a French word meaning “to prick” or in this case “to excite.” If your curiosity is piqued, you’re interested. If your curiosity is peaked, I wonder if it’s really all downhill from there—the passing of some sort of obsession. And I can’t wrap up this post without a little shout out to the final alternate spelling of “peek,” as in to look when you’re not supposed to. “Peeking your interest” definitely doesn’t make sense. Please don’t write it. Got it?
There are lots of words we use every day that have subtleties that most people never learned. The usage differences between “an amount of” and “a number of” fall into this category. Much like farther/further or less/fewer, the correct use comes down to measurability—specifically count-ability in this case.
Here’s today’s lesson:
“Amount of” should be used when referring to uncountable things.
“Number of” should be used when referring to things you can actually count.
For example:
There’s a great amount of wisdom that readers can glean from blogs these days. A great number of my favorites teach me new things every day. Wisdom is not countable. Blogs are.
I should add in the an extra note about “a quantity of,” which follows “number” in that it only refers to countable things. There are more differences there, but we’ll save it for another day. Quality over quantity, right?