Word Wise

TRANSITION GRANTED

But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling, like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.                                                                                                            — Lord Byron Byron knew a thing or two about words, their power and meaning (not to mention how to use them to make grown men weep). Sensitivity to individual words and phrases is key to good writing, especially in our business where every word may have a consequence for our clients. One of the most important yet difficult tasks a writer faces is choosing words to move smoothly and logically from one sentence or paragraph to the next. To do so many people latch onto transitional words or phrases such as “despite,” “meanwhile,” “after all,” and “however,” that they use like little word slides – wheeeeee! – to keep the information going. The problem comes in when these words are used artlessly, as if they have no meaning or implication themselves but are merely empty vehicles used to drive from one idea to the next. Use transitional words or phrases to set up relations between sentences or paragraphs. They can help you change direction or point of view or connect ideas. They’re key to good storytelling. Just make sure you’re using them to get your readers where you want them to go! Some of the most common transitions are used to: indicate addition (furthermore, also) signal conflict or contradiction or change in direction (nevertheless, but, instead, yet, despite, however) compare (in other words, similarly) introduce examples, repeat information, or emphasize a point (for example, in fact) show a shift from cause to effect or to summarize (as a result, consequently, thus, therefore) indicate time (meanwhile, afterward) restate or emphasize (in other words, in brief) show detail (in particular, specifically)

Semicolonoscopy

Kurt Vonnegut called semicolons “transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely nothing. All they do is show you've been to college.” As a college grad, let me just say that semicolons aren’t really that complicated (far less so than being a transvestite hermaphrodite, I bet), despite how often they’re misused. Use semicolons in the following two cases: Case 1: Between two closely related independent clauses (meaning each clause could stand alone as sentence) that you want to bind closer together than they would be with periods or if you used “and,” “but,” or, “yet.” Fabiola went to the frock shop. It was closed. Fabiola went to the frock shop, but it was closed. Fabiola went to the frock shop; it was closed. Case 2: In a series – semicolons can be substituted for commas in a series when one of the items in the series itself contains other punctuation. (Otherwise, always use commas in a series.) Yasmin was supposed to buy Slaughterhouse-Five, published in 1969; Cat’s Cradle, published in 1963; and Breakfast of Champions, published in 1973. Instead, she went to Neiman-Marcus and bought a pair of mules, which she clearly did not need; boots, which she would wear when hiking in the Hindu Kush; and black Maryjanes, perfect for her flamenco class. Each of the items within the series above includes its own comma, so dividing the items themselves with a comma would be confusing. In this case, semicolons are used as item dividers. If the “published in” phrases weren’t there in the first sentence, for instance, it would simply have been “Yasmin was supposed to buy Slaughterhouse-Five, Cat’s Cradle, and Breakfast of Champions.

Home on the Range

A press release has this headline: “Bamboo leaf extract Finds Its Way Into Products Ranging From Shampoo to Cosmetics to Candles.” A business proposal says that a new store “offers everything from clothing to toys to computers.” Does this mean there’s bamboo leaf extract in fruit juice and plant fertilizer? Does the store sell boogie boards and foie gras, too? It’s hard to know since these aren’t ranges at all – they’re what the Washington Post's Bill Walsh calls "false ranges." A range should have some sort of continuum – a sequence or progression – such as “the restaurant serves everything from hors d'oeuvres to dessert.” We understand this to mean it serves every course. You want an amuse bouche, you got it. What’s more, when we use the phrase “everything from,” it excludes nothing. So though “everything from” works fine when used with a true range, as in the restaurant example, it doesn’t work in the case of the store that “sells everything from clothing to toys to computers.” If that was true, the store would offer at least one of everything in the world (talk about a superstore), and I’m not even sure our pals at Wal-Mart could claim that. What we usually mean when we use a false range is “as varied as,” “as diverse as,” or “an assortment that includes,” among other phrases. It’s not that bamboo leaf extract is finding its way into products ranging from shampoo to cosmetics to candles, but that it’s finding its way into products as varied as shampoo, cosmetics, and candles. Next time you find yourself using the phrase “ranges from” or “everything from,” think about what comes between the two ends of your range. If you can’t picture what’s there, then you’re not home on the range.

Note: Aside from the patent silliness of saying a store sells everything from air fresheners to software, or whatever, it’s also just a really lazy way of writing. The best writing is precise, dynamic, specific, illustrative, fresh. Falling back on stock phrases like “everything from” indicates to readers that you, Mr. or Ms. Writer, have given up, don’t care enough to really think about the information you’re passing on, and don’t care if your audience has a robust reading experience or not. Avoid false ranges and your writing will be more truthful.

Edit Be - Edit Me!

In the original iteration of the “Edit Be” post I noted that bloggers are the last unedited writers around, and then in my blog posting proceeded to make a mistake that any editor would have caught – that is, I misspelled Seymour Hersh’s name (I spelled it Hirsch). I’ve now corrected it. Oddly, the story of his I linked to also misspells his name.

Edit Be

Many people, especially those just starting their careers, think editing is merely making sure everything's spelled right and that the commas are used properly. But there's more to it than that, and once you understand how editing works, and how it can improve your writing, as well as your job satisfaction, you'll look forward to the process. In fact, all writers – great journalists like Seymour Hersh at The New Yorker, bestselling novelists like Haruki Murakami, well-known contemporary essayists like Joseph Epstein – need an editor. (Bloggers, it seems, are the only unedited writers left!) After all, it’s hard to look at your own work objectively, just as it’s hard to tell if those low-rise jeans look good on you or, uhm, a bit, well, you know. Sometimes you need someone to pull you aside and whisper “no, no, please, God, no.” An editor – the word, by the way, derives from the Latin e dictus, meaning “to put forward” – not only provides “an extra set of eyes,” but a set of standards that correspond to the context of the written piece. In other words, there are different generally accepted standards for press releases than there are for newspaper articles or letters home to Mom, and the best editors (and writers) bear this in mind as they work. Editors are dispassionate readers – they’re not out to get you! – whose goal is to improve a writer’s work while leaving it essentially alone, preserving the writer’s voice, style, and point of view. Editors not only look for the small stuff – grammar, spelling – but the big stuff: tone, organization, flow, completeness, and truthfulness (as opposed to “truthiness”). While proofreading and copyediting are forms of editing, those come last, after a “hard” edit. For a hard edit, editors (your boss, usually) looks at the overall document and for ways to improve its style, content, structure and flow by, among other things: •    reorganizing information  •    ensuring (or questioning) accuracy •    improving clarity •    focusing on smooth transitions •    enhancing readability (that’s why you’re sometimes asked to add subheads, bullet points,, etc.) •    suggesting certain passages be rewritten (or just going ahead and rewriting them) •    questioning source material •    deleting extraneous information •    challenging writers to take chances Finally, the best editing is actually a collaboration between writer and editor that results in a document of which both are equally proud.

Note: The first magazine in which I had a long piece published, about 6,000 words, was Chicago magazine (“The Dentist’s Vendetta: They were three grown men, living in their parents’ houses, hanging out together like high-school kids – a dentist, a contractor, and one who couldn’t seem to hold down a job. They liked cars and carousing and things that went boom in the night.”) I was pleased with the story but just could not for the life of me write a crucial transition from the first section to the next. In frustration, I handed in the manuscript and my editor eventually wrote a beautiful, concise sentence that made the segue between sections smooth as a Botoxed forehead. After the piece appeared several people actually commented on that line. At first I mumbled something about my editor having done it, but then I thought, hell, I wrote the other 5,990 words, I might as well just say thank you. After all, editors are supposed to improve my work – especially if I give them good work to work with. It was an important lesson to learn.

Which Word When, part II

I was asked about the following pairs of words, so I thought I would post my response.

which/that
Imagine “by the way” following every “which.” "The 2008 campaign season, which [by the way] started too early, will be over Nov. 4, 2008." The “which” phrase adds a useful, but not necessary, piece of information. So, if “by the way” makes sense, use “which.” Also, if the phrase needs a comma, you probably want to use “which.” Here’s a poetic reminder from Patricia T. O’Conner, former New York Times Book Review editor: “Commas, which cut out the fat, go with which, never with that!”

compliment/complement
To compliment is to praise or admire; to complement is to round out or bring to completion. “She complimented her son on his athletic prowess and hoped it would complement his application to Vassar.”

fewer/less
If you can actually count it, use “fewer,” as in “there are fewer eggs today than yesterday.” But if something is uncountable, like time, boredom, or love, use “less,” as in “it took less time to get home,” “I was less bored than usual,” and “I love you less than ever!”

flesh/flush
I have an English Springer Spaniel (named Bailey), a gundog whose traditional job is to flush out game from hiding – in other words, to chase from its hiding place. To flesh out (or add details to) what I mean, a well-trained Springer (in other words, not Bailey) would know to move in a zigzag pattern in front of the hunter seeking game birds.