What is a gerund? Is it a good or a bad thing?
Gerund: Take a verb, like "cook", and add "-ing" to it, that verb ("cooking") is now what is technically known as a gerund. - A gerund can follow a verb: I don't like cooking. - A gerund can be the subject of a sentence: Cooking is an art lost on me. - A gerund can follow a preposition: I can't cook without wrecking a meal.
Gerunds are great for taking care of repetition. He is creating a fabulous dinner for us. He likes to cook more than I do. = repetition of "he" versus replacing with a gerund: He is creating a fabulous dinner for us. Cooking is more pleasurable for him than it is for me. = Use of "cooking" as a gerund at the beginning of the sentence omits repetition.
What about infinitives? What are those, and when are they used?
Infinitive: basic verb form on which every verb is based: "to cook", "to clean", "to eat" - An infinitive can follow a verb: I don't like to cook. - An infinitive can be the subject of a sentence: To cook a meal is next to impossible for me. - An infinitive canNOT follow a preposition: I can't cook without to cook a meal.
Infinitives are great for taking care of repetition.He is creating a fabulous dinner for us. He likes to cook more than I do. = repetition of "he" versus replacing with an infinitive: He is creating a fabulous dinner for us. To cook is more pleasurable for him than it is for me. = Use of "to cook" as an infinitive at the beginning of the sentence omits repetition.
Opinions differ on gerunds and how much they should be used. There's a good reason for that. Many writers think gerunds are fabulous and, as a result, tend to overuse them. Problems with gerunds:
Cooking is more than a hobby for him. Running a restaurant is his goal. Shopping for food is one of his favourite pastimes. = gerund overkill versus: Cooking is more than a hobby for him. His goal is to run a restaurant. One of his favourite pastimes is shopping for food. = replacing one of the gerunds with an infinitive is one option (infinitive = "to run", "to copy", "to sing") which mixes things up a bit.
Running to the stove, I can see he's let the pot boil over. Reaching for the knob, I shut the element off. Cleaning up his mess is my job, but I still prefer it to cooking. = gerund overkill versus: Running to the stove, I can see he's let the pot boil over. I reach for the knob and shut the element off. Cleaning up his mess is my job, but I still prefer it to cooking. = I kept most of the gerunds, but mixed it up a bit by using "I reach". versus (better): Something is burning. I can smell it. Racing to the scene of the crime, I reach for a cloth. It will be up to me, as always, to take care of clean up. The pot bubbles and spatters wildly, threatening the gorgeous meal he's been preparing, so I turn off the offending element and move the pot aside. = a much more interesting way of saying the same thing. Brevity is often a good thing. I'm all in favour of deleting unnecessary words; however, in order to avoid gerund overkill, it may sometimes be necessary to increase the word count.
Too much of anything, including the use of gerunds, is boring. Repetition is boring. #1 piece of advice about writing? Don't bore the reader!
Study every word you use. Gerunds are fine; however, using too many gerunds can be just as dull as using too many adjectives or adverbs. They are bothersome to the reader and often seem like a forced way to avoid repetition. Take the time to consider every word, every sentence, every thought. Paint it the way you see it. Make your work the best it can be.
This weekend my family and I, along with a number of other like-minded folks in our little town, got together to help with an Adopt-A-Highway volunteer thing. Basically it meant we got to pick up garbage along the sides of the highway. We’ve done it the past three years now, and though it means we are attacked by starving black flies, survive a few harrowing near misses with vehicles on the highway, and usually sweat through our orange safety vests, we feel good about what we’re doing.
In three hours our little group of about twenty cleaned up 6 km of highway, bringing in 79 bags of garbage, 6 bags of recycling, 3 mailboxes, a tire, and a few other things I can’t recall at the moment.
Let’s think about that. Everything we picked up had once been considered useful. Those little plastic forks, pop cans, chocolate bar wrappers, bottles, construction materials - everything at one point had a function. If it weren’t for those forks, how would that person have enjoyed their meal? If they hadn’t had a wrapper on that chocolate bar, well, no one would have ever been able to eat it. So these little things were important. But by the time we dug the pieces out of shrubs and mud and gravel, they were nothing but forgotten items people had neglected to throw away properly. All they did was junk up the town.
When we write a story, we fill it with words that are deemed necessary at the time. If we don’t use a specific adjective at that point, will the picture be clear enough for the reader? If that paragraph describing the sunset isn’t there, will the reader know what time it is? Will they sense the scene properly? Or are all those words, once so vital to the story, simply extra bits that no longer serve a purpose?
When you read through something, do the words fill you with a sense of euphoria, kind of like when an elevator stops and your stomach does that little rolling thing? Because when I read something truly phenomenal, I feel that. If that same paragraph is crowded by unnecessary words, the sensation is gone. It’s just another bunch of words I am forced to wade through.
I cut 75,000 words from my first novel. It hurt like crazy, making those cuts. But the streamlined version was a completely different book, one that had something to say. The message was clean. Fresh and inviting, like the sides of our highway are now. The words which remained had been important in the original draft, but were still vital in the present. I went through them so many times, picked through what was garbage and left what belonged, and even then my agent said to go back and look again. There’s always garbage hiding in the grass, under a rock, stuck to the road. Dig it outta there.
One thing, though. When you’re doing your Adopt-A-Manuscript Clean-up, don’t throw it all in the garbage. We’re in 2011. Think Recycle. Some of those thousands of words that I cut ended up reappearing, popping up in bits and pieces in my next couple of novels. The words did have a function. They were meant to be included, just maybe not at that particular time.
Today my husband and I were driving to the gym, heading past the ditches and paths we’d just cleaned, and the odd hot dog wrapper, napkin, cup waved hello from the grass as we drove by. Wouldn’t it be nice if that didn’t happen? If we could continuously edit both the world and our books, keeping them clean and inviting as we go along?
Think of it this way:
You have a cup of coffee. No garbage can anywhere around. Choice: a) Toss it. Nobody'll notice. b) Take the time, make the effort of bringing it home with you and throwing it out later
You write a story. Too many extra words or scenes load your story down, bore the reader, bore the author. Choice: a) Leave them in. Nobody'll notice. b) Dig deep. Cut words/phrases/chapters. Get rid of those things that don’t belong.
I wish I’d thought of this blog for Earth Day, but it works just fine any old day.
Get rid of the clutter. Take pride in your work. Put in the effort. You’ll be glad you did. Everyone will.
A beautiful, heart-wrenching example of Show, don't Tell.
Keep It Simple, Stupid ...
or
Keep Inadequacies Sparce, Scribe
I find it hilarious that when I decided to write a blog concerning cutting unnecessary words, I couldn’t stop writing. And I didn’t even write all that I wanted. Granted, some of the words are in lists rather than examples, but the irony was still there. Weird sense of humour, huh? Today’s blog is about reducing Redundancies, Pleonisms and Tautology in your writing. Grammar God WIlliam Strunk Jr. said: Vigorous writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts. This requires not that the writer make all his sentences short, or that he avoid all detail and treat his subjects only in outline, but that every word tell. Incorrect: Each and every word has a meaning in a sentence. Correct: Every word has a meaning. Incorrect: When you review and examine the sentences you wrote, look carefully at each and every word that you used.Correct: When you examine your sentences, consider each word separately. Incorrect: Do you believe each one of the words you used is needed in this particular situation? Correct: Is each word needed in this situation? Incorrect: Or have you decided to include that word in this sentence because it is one you have heard before and it seemed like a good place to use it?Correct: Or are you dropping in words because they kind of sound right? Incorrect: Or could it be the fact that using these words has become a habit and you have gotten used to doing it all the time so it is just out of habit? Correct: Or is it a habit? Stop right there. Hear this: If the word is not needed, don’t use it. Simple as that. ✔ Get rid of or replace unnecessary and/or meaningless adjectives and adverbs.
Consider these words: really, very, quite, somewhat, good, nice, fine. What do they really add to a sentence? Seriously. Unless you feel it is very important to stress somethingreally, really nicely, leave it out. That’d be a good idea, huh? Use better words. really pretty --------> gorgeous very costly ---------> expensive or (just) costly quite tired -----------> exhausted or weary good time -----------> enjoyable experience nice person ---------> amiable, considerate, friendly individual ✔ Combine excessive words to form a more concise statement.
Incorrect: Susan thought the red paint was very bright and cheerful. Mike said the same thing. Julie really liked the happy mood the red paint brought to the room. Correct: Susan, Mike and Julie liked the bright red paint. ✔ Consider each word individually. Is it redundant within itself? For example:
bald(-headed) (advance) warning collaborate (together) could (possibly) each (and every) evolve (over time) whether (or not) (fore)warn The terms “Redundancy”, “Pleonasm” and “Tautology” all refer to the needless repetition of words. Trying to differentiate the terms is (to me) similar to splitting hairs: it gives me a headache, and it’s not important. Basically, “Redundancy” is made up of both “Pleonasm” and “Tautology”. I tried to divide them, but I might have gotten some mixed up. The fact is that using either is bad. “Pleonasms” use more words than are necessary to describe something. “Tautology” repeats the same thing by using superfluous words or phrases. Lists of redundancies are endless, so I’m only pointing out a few that you might have used in your own writing. I have to admit that since I’m somewhat of a grammar geek, I get a giggle out of some of these. Yes, I’m simple that way. Examples of Pleonasms:
at this moment in time square shape large size short in height return again eight a.m. in the morning reiterate again nodded(his head) shrugged(her shoulders) (the end) result Examples of Tautology:
true fact free gift foreign import close proximity return to where he came from all alone by myself (in my opinion) I believe Suddenly,(all at once) “You wouldn’t have won if we’d beaten you.” (Yogi Berra) “Either ghosts exist, or they don’t.” “Your missing shoes have to be somewhere.” A few of my favourites:- A.T.M. machine. “Automated Teller Machine” machine. Don't forget your PIN number.
- P.I.N. number. “Personal Identification Number” number. Keep it secret secret.
- R.S.V.P. please. R.S.V.P. stands for répondez s'il vous plaît, which means respond, please. So if you say Please R.S.V.P. or R.S.V.P. please, you’re saying please respond please or respond please please. Sounds a bit desperate, don’t you think?
- And in Canada, we have the N.D.P. party. New Democrat Party party. That's a lot of party.
Rhythmic RedundancyI haven’t seen many references to this particular peeve online, but I would like to bring up what I call “Rhythmic Redundancy”. This does not apply to poets, who might actually be aiming for this exact method. If you are the next Dr Seuss, please look away. Each sentence has a rhythm to it, whether it’s “The mouse ran up the clock” or “The mouse scrambled over the weary hands of the clock”. If every sentence sounds either phonetically or rhythmically similar, the reader will become bored. That’s just a fact, Jack. Incorrect: Same rhythm ... sing along, everybody!:The mouse ran up the clock. She saw it was past one. The time for lunch was gone. They had to go to work. *yawn* Correct: Different rhythm ... better: The mouse ran up the clock, attracting her attention. She looked up and saw it was past one. It was too late to have lunch now. She would have to get back to work. Correct: Different rhythm ... best: The mouse scrambled over the clock’s cracked face, attracting the woman’s attention. Her eyes followed the scurrying movements then focused on the clock’s worn hands. How could it be past two already? Too late for lunch. Work beckoned. Ridding work of redundancies is a big part of what editors do, but you can do it yourself if you are willing to take the time. Redundancies can be painfully obvious, or they can be nitpicky. Either one is bad. There is no guarantee that deleting redundancies will increase or decrease your wordcount, in case you are worried about that. You can make it work either way, actually. The only guarantee is that your work will flow more smoothly, do more “Show” than “Tell”, and give your readers something interesting to which they can cling. And paying attention to every word will make you a better writer. SO ... at the risk of repeating myself, today’s message:Keep it simple.
✔ Get rid of or replace unnecessary and/or meaningless adjectives and adverbs. ✔ Combine excessive words to form a more concise statement. ✔ Consider each word. Is it redundant within itself?
I can’t remember how many times I read this when I first bopped around online, looking at critique sites, listening in on forums, reading comments on writing. Show, don’t tell. Huh.
After I got hit over the head with it enough times, I understood the concept. The author must envelop the reader in the story, fill his senses with setting, character, emotions, action and everything else. In effect, the author must make it possible for the Reader to forget both that they are the Reader, and the fact that they’re reading a story.
Sounds simple enough.
Ha! Personally, I think that part of writing can be almost as difficult as the infamous Agent search. However, it can also be the most rewarding. And if it’s done well, the Reader goes away with an image in their head, something they’ll remember.
In order for an author to Show, not Tell, they must allow their thoughts to be completely “at one” with their writing. Throw in all those techniques and tools we writers are always talking about: metaphors, similes, dialogue, etc. For me it’s kind of a zen thing. While your fingers are flying and your mind is racing along with the action, it’s easy to try to keep up by writing something like,
She ran into the forest, needing to escape. That, my friends, is Telling.
If I really take my time and sink into the scene, I am able to Show. The pounding of her feet was background to her laboured gasps; her heartbeat raced. The trees closed on her like wolves around an injured deer, their gnarled branches clawing and scraping her sweat-soaked skin. The air was heavy, wet from the storm, and slippery, twisted roots jutted up to grasp at her exhausted feet. Escape jeered from far away. <-------- Goal
You may not like my example. Actually, I’m not convinced either. Could be overdone. But let’s consider it anyway. What are the differences between the two examples?
Telling: Basic nouns and verbs Few or no adjectives and adverbs
Showing: Metaphors: Can you see the wolves/trees? Can you sense the menace? Other devices such as Personification (of the trees and roots, and even of escape) Covers senses such as: Touch (clawing and scraping), smell (the heavy air), emotion (panic) Paints clear, precise images: describes details about trees, background on weather and conditions on the ground, location (faraway) of her goal.
On the other hand, too much Showing can destroy a piece. Too many descriptive words, listing unimportant facts and features ...
In my opinion, there are basically three ways to describe one thing.
The first is Telling. The cowboy was blond and looked good. <-------- Avoid
The second is what I call a “shopping list”. He had blond hair that hung to his shoulders and it was messy. He wore a red, green and black plaid flannel shirt that was so old it needed to be patched. It had a square pocket on the left side. His silver belt buckle was large and not very shiny. It was the shape of a wild, bucking bronco with a cowboy on top. <-------- Avoid
The third is to Show. Long, golden blond waves, tousled by indifference, tickled the solid slope of his shoulders. He’d tucked in one side of his flannel shirt, leaving the other to hang carelessly over his thigh. A tarnished silver buckle winked from behind the worn material. <-------- Goal
Another technique is to throw in a little dialogue. Everyone wants to hear dialogue anyway.
Instead of: The office manager stormed into her office and demanded coffee. <----- Avoid
How about: Her head jerked up as the office manager stormed into her office and slammed the door behind him. “I want coffee, and I want it now,” he demanded. <-------- Goal
So ... Show, don’t tell: 1. Use effective, descriptive nouns and verbs, adding necessary adjectives and adverbs whenever needed. Don’t overdo it. 2. Cover as many senses as possible: sight, touch, sound, smell, taste, intuition 3. Use writing techniques like personification, metaphors, etc 4. Don’t list things, describe them. And only bother with the ones that matter. 5. Paint clear, concise images that will swallow up the Reader.
Here. Try this. I’ll get you started, and you make this into something memorable ... The editor hoped her advice helped.
Okay. Just a quick note today touching on dialogue tags ... or, for my American friends, dialog tags ... because I believe it is the #1 thing on my most-fixed list.
Question: Can you "blush" something? Can you "sigh" something? Can you "laugh" something? Answer: NO! Solution: Don't do this: "What a funny thing to write about," blushed the writer. ... Do this: "What a funny thing to write about," the writer thought, feeling a blush creep up her neck. Don't do this: "He's so cute," she sighed. ... Do this: "He's so cute," she whispered, giggling behind her hand. Don't do this: "Why, yes I am," laughed the boy. ... Do this: Do like this: "Why, yes I am," the boy declared, puffing out his chest.
On to punctuation. I'm only going to address ONE simple point. If you want to know more, just ask. Don't do this: "Hello there." she said. ... Do this: "Hello there," she said. or Do this: "Hello there." She smiled and waved.
Don't be afraid of the word "said"; ... Do try other good words you can use, in addition to "said" ... have you tried "replied", "asked", "shouted", "whispered", "muttered", etc
There are times in literature, indeed in life, when a situation demands more than the usual amount of enthusiasm. When something incredible happens in real life, we jump up and down, we yell, we hoot and holler, and our expressions are usually full of emotion. When we write, authors often indicate this excitement by using an Exclamation Point (also known as an Exclamation Mark).
Let’s say we have a scenario wherein a man is meeting his long lost brother after twenty years of separation. He might say something like,
“It’s so good to see you!”
Perfectly acceptable, in my humble opinion; however, this is where some authors tend to go astray. Let’s continue this conversation, shall we?
“It’s so good to see you!” “How are you?!” “Wonderful! You look great!” “I can’t believe this! I can’t wait to tell everyone!” “I know! So amazing! How is everything?!” "Fantastic! You?!"
Ow. My head is now officially pounding.
In effect, what is going on in this conversation is that the two men are yelling at each other. Personally, I am not a fan of a room full of yelling people. In fact, I tend to leave the room in that particular situation. It’s even worse in this case, because it’s just the two characters yelling at each other.
An exclamation point should be used for one reason only: to emphasize a point. To “exclaim” about a “point”, if you will. The overuse of exclamation points makes everything look exactly the same. Instead of the natural rise and fall of a story, it becomes one long yell. How is the reader supposed to differentiate between regular moments and more exciting ones when everything looks identical?
YA novels are often (not always!) salted liberally with exclamation points, presumedly representing teenage enthusiasm, energy, angst ...; however, using exclamation points too often makes a book looks even more ... um ... juvenile. And not in a good way. Oh, and even if your YA novel begs for an exclamation point, please, please promise me you’ll limit yourself to only using one at a time. Save multiples for texting, if you must. OMG!!!!! *sigh* Children’s books usually contain even more. I understand why, but just because kids get excited and yell a lot that doesn’t make it right. The reader shouldn’t have to believe each sentence is as important as every other one. Of course there are exceptions. Here’s a scenario in which multiple exclamation points work because the characters are yelling.
“Look! It’s a U.F.O.!” “Where?” “Over there! Look!” “Where - Hey, I see it! Cool!” “Wow. It looks like it’s coming this way,” Jim said, squinting toward the ship. Pete nodded slowly. “Yeah, pretty quickly, too.” After a moment of staring at the rapidly approaching lights, the men exchanged a glance of concern, then Jim spoke up. “How fast can you run?” Pete took off. “All that matters is that I can run faster than you!” he yelled back over his shoulder. I read a rule somewhere advising authors to limit their use of exclamation points to one per page. I’m not a great believer in writing rules, per se, but I do agree with the idea behind this one. Can you use better nouns or verbs instead of having to resort to exclamation points?
How about using dialogue tags to indicate excitement? For example, instead of “It’s so great to see you!”, try something like: “It’s so great to see you,” he said, beaming with joy. That simple difference imparts so much more emotion for the reader, as well as getting rid of exclamation points.
Some people use excessive semi-colons; some find joy in dotting their pages with exclamation points. Both tools should be used in moderation, if at all. Their ultimate function is to provide an editor with one more thing to delete or replace. Okay, everyone. Back to work!
by Genevieve Graham-SawchynFarther or Further?I had to look this one up, so I'll save you the trouble. "Farther" and "Further" are often used interchangeably, but here's the real scoop. "Farther" is a reference to physical distance. (a long way, distant, remote)
- I drove farther than I ever have.
- "How much farther is it?" (whine my kids in the back of the car...)
"Further” can be used in the same way as "Farther"; however, it can also be used as a figurative word:
- Nothing could be further from the truth
as an adjective:
- I have no further comment
OR as a verb
- Hiring an editor can further your progress!
- (And furthermore, I really like that example.)
If you're not sure ... nobody will notice, probably - except an editor! :)
By: Tracey NeithercottMaybe because I’m a former copyeditor. But I’m incredibly Passionate about proper grammer and spelling because if you don’t have those things it can be very hard to understand sentences, your reader’s won’t want to waste they’re Time on you’re Book or you even if you think its good. Editors and Agents too. They don’t like to read submissions from writer whom use inproper grammer or spelling even if you execute the story part good. Plenty of people say that its the storytelling that matters really but its not its a mix of Storytelling and Knowing how to write, that includes grammer and spelling and all that. Writers that submit they’re novels which are chalk full of mistakes frequently are rejected! See Agent’s and editors’ don’t have a lot of time to waste deciphering bad-written novels; even if they may think the story is better than Harry Potter and Hunger Games and Twilight combined into one sparkling magical war book and even if they like you’re other ideas. They just don’t want to waste there time making you’re Book understandable to readers. Those are you’re job. Give yourself with a grammer book some help! Fine a astonishingly good text that can teach you the basic Principle’s of the English language and that you read on you’re own Time so that you can get better at the writing part. Also for spelling. It for some people is worser. When it’s spelled good and has all the grammer right, you can submit a book that is your best work. Just between you and I, learning the rules to the grammer isn’t the easiest thing but the good news is that its possible. Don’t loose hope! Tracey Neithercott is a health journalist and former copy editor who writes YA fiction when she should be sleeping. She attempts to use proper grammar on her blog, Words on Paper.
- by Mark Nichol
There are two types of grammar: Descriptive, which describes what is customary, and prescriptive grammar, which prescribes what should be. A tension between the two systems is inevitable — and healthy; it keeps us thinking about what we’re saying and writing.
Allowing mob rule at the expense of some governing of composition is madness, but a diction dictatorship is dangerous, too. As with any prescription, an overdose is contraindicated. Here are some hard pills to swallow for language mavens who require a strict adherence to rigid syntactical patterns at the expense of, well, language:
1. Never split an infinitive. It isn’t wise to always ignore this fallacious rule against dividing the elements of the verb phrase “to (verb)” with an adverb, but to blindly follow it is to prohibit pleasing turns of phrase — one of the best known of which is from the introductory voice-over from all the Star Trek television series: “to boldly go where no one has gone before.” (The original series, produced before the more recent sensitivity to gender bias, put it “no man.”)
2. Never end a sentence with a preposition. This rule is ridiculous, to start with. If you believe it, please tell me what planet you are from. What are you striving for? Give it up. Am I getting my point across?
The stricture against closing sentences with words that describe position stems from an eighteen-century fetish for the supposed perfection of classical Latin, which allowed no split infinitives — for the excellent reason that Latin infinitives consist of single words. English, however, being a distant relative of that language, should be allowed to form its own customs.
3. Never begin a sentence with a conjunction. And why not? For an honorable tradition of doing just that exists. But some people persist in prohibiting this technique. Yet we defy them. Or we simply ignore them or laugh at them, neither of which they appreciate. Nor do they understand our attitude, though we try to convince them, and will continue to do so. So there.
The words beginning each of these sentences are conjunctions, easily recalled with the mnemonic FANBOYS. Every one is perfectly acceptable at the head of a sentence. As is obvious from the previous paragraph, however, a little goes a long way.
4. Distinguish between while and though. Petty prescriptivists would have you reserve while for temporal usage only: “While I agree, I resist,” they say, should be revised to “Though I agree, I resist.” I freely admit that I often change while to though, and while I understand — I’m sorry, I can’t stop myself — and though I understand that it may seem pedantic, I think though reads better.
5. Distinguish between since and because. Ditto. And ditto. I concur that indiscriminate replacement of since withbecause may seem persnickety, but since — ahem — because I find the latter word more pleasing, I will reserve the right to prefer it.
6. Use data only in the plural sense. Where did they get this data? The alternative is to use datum in the singular sense, which makes you sound like a propellerhead. (Look it up, kids.) People who say “datum” get data, but they don’t get dates.
7. Use none only in the singular sense. None of these rules, followed strictly, allow for a vernacular ease with language.
Did that sentence hurt? Did the waves stop crashing to shore? Did Earth stop spinning? If you wish to replace none with “not one” or “no one” (“Not one person admitted guilt”; “No one saw that coming”), by all means, do so, but fear not none in a plural sense.
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