Tag Archives: word choice

Writing

Elements of Critique: Meaning

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In my work community, The Princess Bride holds an honored place in our geeky hearts. This often results in quotes at best, and renditions of entire scenes at worst.

One of my favorite lines comes from Inigo Montoya: “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

Yes, when critiquing someone else’s writing, I do look closely at meaning.

That may be as simple as a word used in the wrong way. When someone types “their” instead of “they’re,” it’s what the Air Force calls a word choice error. The word is not misspelled, but misused. It doesn’t mean what the writer thinks it means.

I saw this CNN quote in an article today: “…the horrors that fundamentalism can wrought on an individual.” In this tight job market, it’s good to know some editor positions should be opening up soon. Spell check won’t catch that error. ‘Wrought’ is a word, but it’s the wrong word. That’s an example of what I’m looking for when I critique.

Mistaken words are frequent because the rules of use can be complex and confusing. The judgmental grammar Nazi in me says “No, they’re not.” But there are different applications of intelligence in life that each require some study to get right.

The reason I go to a mechanic is because I barely know how to put oil into a car. In the same way I know very little about car engines, some people don’t have to worry about whether to use “effect” or “affect” in a sentence.

There are great resources online that explain the use of commonly mistaken words. And as mentioned before, if ever there is a doubt about how a word should be used, research it or reword it.

That said, I realize that probably all of us will use whatever word, right or wrong, with full confidence. We don’t use words when we are unsure about them. Our certainty creates blind spots, which is why we’re surprised when someone points out, like Inigo Montoya, that what we’re saying doesn’t mean what we think.

That outside objective viewpoint is critical, to help us see past our blind spots. (Obligatory “join a critique group” plug complete!)

And the outside view helps identify a bigger problem of meaning that might come up in our writing.

Meaning becomes a problem when what we’re writing doesn’t fit. When critiquing, I look for anything that doesn’t support or match up with the greater whole: sentences that don’t fit paragraphs, and paragraphs that don’t fit the point of the piece. (Think useless scenes in fiction, useless facts in non-fiction.)

For example:

The seasons on Okinawa are not the same four seasons as in the temperate climate of the United States. When the US Government turned Okinawa over to Japan in 1972, the action upset many of the residents. Okinawa, like most tropical islands, has two seasons: the rainy season and typhoon season. Typhoon season lasts from about April through October, and the rainy season occupies the other months.

That second sentence takes me right out of the paragraph wondering why it’s even there. It doesn’t support anything related to the meaning of the paragraph. If this piece is about weather on Okinawa, that sentence doesn’t even relate to the whole article.

Writing well is about economy of words (though you wouldn’t know it from my lengthy diatribes). We can’t afford to include something that ignores, or worse, contradicts the main point of our piece.

Failing to consider meaning in writing will have a drastic negative effect on how our writing affects our readers. Before our writing gets put out there for readers to set before their eyes, we want to make sure they’re going to get the meaning we intend.

Otherwise, I fear I’ll hear that thickly-accented voice say: “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my language. Prepare to die.”

Culture/Politics

Verbal Pause

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There’s an interesting article on CNN about how “the f-word is everywhere” — interesting to me, at least, but I am a linguist. That’s my job. How we use language is naturally high on the list of things I love to think about.

Writers naturally agree words have power. Nothing is so moving as the perfect word or phrase to communicate a message. Whether it’s the description of a scene or action, or the authentic response of a non-fictional or even fictional character, finding the just-right word is a heady moment.

Consider Mark Twain’s comment: The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.

I discussed this with my teenage children (oh yes, this week we now have TWO teenage children in our house, Heaven help us). I naturally fear what they say around me and what they say around friends are different. One of my daughter’s friends accidentally “dropped the f-bomb” at the restaurant table after church (and suffered her mom’s threats of certain doom to follow). My kids often warn me which neighborhood friends are known for profanity.

My wife has drawn the line at “screwed” and “crap” and such. My teenage son gets away with “flippin'” and “dang it” slips past mom’s radar. If we waived the rules and let them say whatever they want, my kids would probably not even use the f-word or other strong profanity.

I chalk that up in the win column.

But I also work in the military, where the word is “everywhere” like the article suggests. Some younger personnel can’t seem to get a sentence out without a form of f— sprinkled in. It is indeed a versatile word, as the author suggests.

And I can’t be sanctimonious here. It has escaped my mouth too.

Traveling with small children through O’Hare airport, moving to a new duty station, I pushed a cart laden down with car seats, booster seats, luggage, carry-on bags and diaper bags. At the end of a moving walkway, everything collapsed. A wall of luggage blocked the exit. People tried to get by. I flew into a rage, flinging luggage off to the side, trying to clear the path, angered that we had so much, frustrated because I knew we needed all of it since we had nothing else to our names until our household shipments arrived (scheduled for a month or more later).

Not my finest moment.

And there have been times on the military aircraft where I do my job, when systems are failing or worse yet when our command and control structures are providing ridiculous input or confusing and arguably stupid direction. Few things get under my skin like technology that fails to deliver what is promised, but nonsense during operational missions can do it.

I’m not excusing the language; I’m admitting failure in an area where I want to do better.

What bothers me most about the f-word being everywhere is that in some circles and especially among the young adults I encounter, f— is the new verbal pause, a new “um” or “uh” included thoughtlessly in sentences, serving no purpose.

“Uh, do you know if – um – Tom is done with the – uhh – review of that – um – training folder? Uhh, Tom is always uhh late getting those – um – things completed.”

That’s as painful to read as it was to type out. But that’s essentially the way many people speak, substituting arguably the strongest profanity for each verbal pause.

Maybe it’s quaint and petty of me, too Ned Flanders “hi-delly-ho, neighbor” to feel this way. But yes… if that’s how someone speaks, I judge their ability to communicate. I note this symptom of either lack of vocabulary or effort to choose better words.

I’m a linguist. Words matter. How we use them says more about us than we might like to admit.

Here’s that CNN article – “The f-word is everywhere.”

What do you think? Do you agree with what the author suggests? How about my assessment? What does the prevalence of that word indicate? Let me know in a comment, please. I’d love to hear your thoughts.