I just read an article that clears up some confusing points about apostrophes.  I wish I could say I’m pleased, but I’m not. I have a feeling I’m going to be cranky all day.

Here’s what’s bothering me: The author wants us to use the term pronomial pronouns. That’s supposed to help us remember a group of words that never get apostrophes: his, hers, yours, ours, theirs and its.

Why make apostrophes so complicated? I have a Ph.D. in English, and I can’t remember ever seeing the word pronomial before.

I’m going to suggest a much simpler way to learn how to use these pronouns. Here it is: Think about the word his. No apostrophe, right?

All these pronouns (his, hers, yours, ours, theirs and its) work the same way: no apostrophe.

These examples are correct:

That book is his, not hers. 

The dog buried his bone.

The dog buried its bone.

His is the blue Subaru.

Ours is the blue Subaru.

If the wallet is his, he can claim it in the office.

If the wallet is yours, you can claim it in the office.

No apostrophes! Easy, isn’t it?

Here’s a sentence I found on Grammarly (a platform where you can improve your language skills). I like it!

He is totally beguiling, and I’m bewitched.

But Grammarly says it’s a bad sentence: you’re supposed to avoid passive voice. I’m bewitched is passive because the sentence doesn’t tell you who did the bewitching.

Here’s Grammarly’s version:

He is totally beguiling, and he has bewitched me.

My reaction is…pfffft. I’ll agree that it’s a good sentence. But so was the original! “I’m bewitched” is strong. I can feel the witchcraft!

Sometimes grammar doesn’t matter. The sentence feels alive – and isn’t that what we want from our writing?

My oft-repeated advice still stands: be wary when someone throws a rule at you. Rules are only guidelines.

You have a lifetime of language experience.  (So does everyone else!) You know – instantly – whether a sentence works or not. Trust yourself!

A few days ago I stopped by my local library to drop off some books. When I was getting ready, I remembered that we had some pencils that needed sharpening.

I put a rubber band around them and headed for the library – which, it turns out, does not have a pencil sharpener. Those pencils are still in my purse. @#$*%&!

Did that little anecdote offend you?  Probably not. Pencil is such an innocent word that even kindergarten children use it. 

But if you look up the etymology (origin) of pencil,  you might be shocked. (The picture below might help you figure it out!)

Many lovers of English believe that we should avoid words that have an uncomfortable history.

For example, if you’re a Roman Catholic, you’re supposed  to get angry when someone says “hocus pocus.” The reason? It’s believed to be a mocking reference to the holiest words in a Latin Mass. (But there are other possible origins of “hocus-pocus.” You can learn more here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hocus-pocus)

Similarly gee, gosh, and golly may have started out as references to Jesus and God: if you use them to express dismay, you’re guilty of blasphemy.

It sounds like a valid academic argument. Shouldn’t we stick to the original meanings of words?

My answer is no – and many linguistics experts agree. It’s what the word means today that counts. (Yes, you can talk about a pencil!)

I have a favorite rebuttal when someone argues for the original meanings of words. Manuscript means “written by hand” in Latin. If you’re a professional writer, do you write your manuscripts by hand? Of course not! You use today’s meaning.

What’s most important is reminding ourselves that language is slippery. A word that bothers one person may seem perfectly okay to someone else. For example, I’ve been told that we shouldn’t say “master bedroom” because it evokes slavery. But it doesn’t have that association for me, and I have no problem with “master bedroom.”

On the other hand, there’s a church in my neighborhood that uses the term “overseer” instead of “pastor.” Umm – no. It’s not a word I would ever use. (Maybe I’ve read Gone with the Wind too many times!)

But many people are perfectly okay with “overseer.” For years I’ve been driving past a sign that announces the name of the “overseer” of that church. Nobody seems to have complained about it.

And that takes us to a larger point I want to make today. Language belongs to everybody. We need to be wary of anyone who lays down the law about a word, expression, or rule.

For many people, that’s an uncomfortable truth. Wouldn’t life be easier if we had one set of language rules? Yes, it would. 

But the easy route isn’t always the best route. In the end, I’m grateful that we have the right to make up our own minds about how we’re going to use our wonderful language.

Of course problems are going to arise, and mistakes will happen. But I’ll gladly accept that risk (even though I’ve stumbled myself numerous times!). I’m proud to be an owner of the English language. I hope you are too.

                                                                                                                          Courtesy of John Keogh, CC License

Robert Caro is one of our greatest nonfiction writers. For many years he’s been working on a multi-volume biography of Lyndon B. Johnson.

Below is a sentence from Caro’s account of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. Lyndon Johnson (Kennedy’s vice-president) immediately became the US President. It’s a dramatic story, climaxing when Johnson took the oath of office on Air Force One, the official Presidential airplane.

It’s great writing, but that’s not why I’m posting it here. There’s something else that excited me: two words that I don’t think any other writer would have bothered with.

Can you figure out what they are? 

Taking his wife, Lady Bird, by the arm to bring her along, Lyndon
Johnson walked over to the fence and started to follow the Kennedys, but
the faces remained turned, and the arms remained stretched, toward the
Kennedys, even after they had passed, and Johnson quickly moved back to
the gray convertible that had been rented for him.

Here are the two words: Lady Bird. (I don’t mind if you think I’m nuts!)

Almost anybody interested in reading Caro’s book would already know the name of Johnson’s wife. She was an amazing woman who was in the news all the time.

But Caro is an exceptional writer. You can almost hear his thoughts clicking: Lyndon died in 1973. Lady Bird died in 2007. Some readers today might not know who they were! Caro didn’t want anyone to be confused – not even for  a second.

There’s a reason I’m so excited about this. (In case you’re wondering, I lived through the Kennedy and Johnson years. Yes, I knew her name was Lady Bird!)

The New Yorker (where this chapter was published) is my favorite magazine.  But its writers have the annoying habit of mentioning a name and repeating it later – with no clue about who “Greg” or “Sam Smith” was. A brother? Childhood friend? Politician?

 I can’t count the number of times I’ve had to backtrack to figure out who’s being talked about.

Great writers think about their readers, making tiny changes that most people wouldn’t even notice. The goal? Creating a pleasurable experience for their future readers.

Do you edit your work with your audience in mind? Do you look for opportunities to make reading easier for them?

[Source: “The Day L.B. J. Took Charge” by Robert A. Caro from The New Yorker, April 2, 2012. https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2012/04/02/the-transition?utm_source=onsite-share&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=onsite-share&utm_brand=the-new-yorker]

Robert Caro

Because I’m a Shaw scholar, 2020 was an important year for me. Shaw’s writings went out of copyright. I saved some money! I’ll explain how in a moment.

Sixty years after an author’s death, copyright protections expire. That means you can do anything with them. If you want to stage Shaw’s play Pygmalion as – say – a vampire story – go for it! It’s perfectly legal.

You should also know that anything published before 1923 is copyright free. 

Here’s a sampling of writers and artists who have works that are out of copyright: William Faulkner, Louis Armstrong, Igor Stravinsky, Diane Arbus, Dorothy Parker, and A.A. Milne (author of the Winnie-the-Pooh books).

Let’s use Milne as an example. You can publish – and sell – the Winnie-the-Pooh books. You can turn them into cartoons and movies – anything you want. But be careful! The illustrator, E. H. Shepard, died in 1976. His Winnie the Pooh drawings are still copyrighted. You can’t use them without permission – and paying a fee.

If this sounds like a lot of legalese, it’s not. Last year I published a book about Bernard Shaw (Language and Metadrama in Major Barbara and Pygmalion: Shavian Sisters). In the past, I had to pay a fee to get permission to quote from his writings. But now everything is available to anyone to use, free.

And there’s more. Below is a painting I wanted to use in my book. Normally I’d have to pay a permissions fee to use it. (The Metropolitan Museum of Art owns the rights.)

Pygmalion and Galatea by Jean-Léon                    Gérôme courtesy of KGBO

But it’s out of copyright – hallelujah! It went into my book – in color – at no charge.

And there’s something else important going on. The Metropolitan (and many museums, galleries, and artists around the world) is supporting a movement to make art more widely available to the public. It’s called Creative Commons.

Notice, though, that the Creative Commons movement has rules. Many artists and photographers have generously made some of their works available at no charge. But you may be required to credit them. Always check the instructions (“license”) to see what the requirements are.

How do you find Creative Commons (often called CC) pictures? I use two strategies. One is looking up a subject in Wikipedia. Almost every picture they use has a CC license.

I also use Google frequently. Type your subject into the Google search box. Click Images. Click Tools. Click Creative Commons License, and free pictures will show up.

But beware. Copyrighted ads often show up. Don’t use those pictures! And carefully check the picture you want to use to make sure it has a CC License. Always look for the license requirements and follow them scrupulously. 

Image courtesy of Peter Leth, CC License

Many ambitious writers believe that if you can just get the @##$%! grammar right, you’re going to be an effective writer. Sadly, that’s not true. Here’s a perfectly grammatical sentence from the Business Daily Review that – nevertheless – has a problem:

Abortion clinics and a doctor have launched a challenge at the Florida Supreme Court after an appeals court Wednesday rejected a temporary injunction that would have blocked a new law preventing abortions after 15 weeks of pregnancy.

First, it’s too long. More seriously, readers (at least the ones with a brain like mine) have to struggle to figure out what the sentence means.

I’m going to be folksy here and call this sentence a triple negative. A preventive measure was blocked, rejected, and challenged. Each step reversed the previous step. It’s like a shell game.

Be kind to your readers! Tell the story one step at a time.

Abortion clinics and a doctor have launched a Florida Supreme Court challenge. Florida has a new law preventing abortions after 15 weeks of pregnancy. That law started a chain reaction: a temporary injunction blocked the law and reinstated the right to abortion. But then an appeals court reimposed the 15-week limit. On Wednesday the Supreme Court accepted a challenge from an abortion clinic and a doctor who want to make no-limits abortions legal again.

Whew. (Incidentally, the Florida Supreme Court did reinstate the 15-week limit.)

Writing isn’t a contest to see who can cram the most information into a sentence. The goal is to communicate with your readers. The best writers are the ones who work hard to make things easy for their readers.