(Sometimes)

“You’ve just violated grammar code part 5, section 29: Using a comma to set off a dependent clause following a restrictive main clause. What do you have to say for yourself?”

You might feel like you’ve been pulled over by the grammar police when reviewing edits from a copyeditor or suggestions from grammar software.

Grammar gets a bad rap. Grammar conventions are like traffic rules—they keep things running smoothly and without them, we’d have have chaos. Still, sometimes we want to speed.

There are many reasons to flout grammar rules, only some of which are valid. Here are a few common defenses:

Defense #1: Everyone else is doing it

While this defense rarely works in traffic court, it has merit in the world of grammar.

Language and usage evolve as our behaviors shift and the world changes. Today, you can safely ignore rules you may have learned years ago, such as:

• Never use a preposition to end a sentence with.
• And, don’t start sentences with conjunctions.

In recent years, the prevailing style guides have all accepted the use of the singular “they” to refer to an individual without assigning gender. (Never mind that we’d been doing so in speech for years.)

Context also matters. Grammar rules are stricter for books and academic papers than blog posts.

For example, a copyeditor will flag most exclamation marks in book manuscripts. In text messages, however, they express warmth, while the simple period may seem angry or terse.

Emails and blog posts live between the extremes of language and grammatical precision.

Defense #2: I’m not from these parts

Although English nearly spans the globe, its words and conventions change adapt locally. The gulf between British English and American English often shows up in vocabulary and nuances of word usage, and occasionally in grammar and punctuation. (We even use different words for the simple period, or full stop.)

Take the thorny issue of where to put the closing punctuation in a sentence like the following (from Writing to Be Understood):

You cannot simply show up with a verbal wrecking ball, saying “trust me.”

Where do you put the period for the sentence? In the United States, it lands inside the ending quotation mark. Not so in the U.K.

You may find different editions (British and English) for reasons of spelling, vocabulary, punctuation, and grammar.

Maybe the closing punctuation convention will shift. My Irish friend Alastair writes, “As a former coder, I just can’t put punctuation inside speech marks when it’s punctuation for the surrounding sentence.”

He’s right in a logical sense. That’s why so many American writers misplace the closing punctuation. If someone complains about it in your writing, tell them, “I’m deeply influenced by British English.”

Defense #3: I didn’t know this rule

In the court system, ignorance of the law is no excuse. The same is true for grammar. With automated grammar checking embedded in word processors and software like Grammarly or ProWritingAid, there’s really no excuse for simple mistakes in important writing.

If you care about your readers, check your work.

However, if a rule is so obscure that it makes no sense to your ear, then you’ve got an argument for pleading Defense #1—everyone else is doing it.

For example, I regularly abandon the correct “whom” when using who as the subject of a sentence, because it sounds awkward.

Who do you serve?

Whom do you serve?

The second one sounds overly stuffy. Not like me. And I’m not alone. That leads us to the last defense:

Defense #4: My voice, my choice

I often disregard the suggestions of automatic grammar checkers when I believe that something “sounds” better or truer to my voice.

Yes, you should use grammar checkers and hire copyeditors for important work. But remember, you’re in the driver’s seat.

You’re the one establishing a relationship with the reader. And that relationship guides your decisions, because…

The reader decides what’s right

Does the reader understand you? Does your choice have the desired effect?

Many excellent writers flout grammar conventions for great effect. Let’s take sentence fragments as an example.

When I find a sentence fragment in a manuscript, it often makes me go back and re-read the sentence to see if I missed something. (Where’s the verb?) That’s adds to the cognitive load of processing the words, and distracts me from the ideas.

Yet skilled writers use fragments for many purposes: a free-form list, a specific tone of voice, or an important point. In his book On Writing Well, William Zinsser uses fragments for voice and effect:

You should give as much thought to choosing your last sentence as you did to your first. Well, almost as much.

The fragment adds a bit of humor, like a wink. And it works because the writing throughout is clear and wonderful.

Defending your choices

I don’t accept every correction from automated grammar checkers. On rare occasions, I decline suggestions from professional copyeditors. In every case, I do it for a reason that I would happily argue in grammar court.

If your reader trusts that you, as a writer, bend conventions like sentence structure with care and purpose, they will probably not mind. They may enjoy it. Violate the rules thoughtlessly, however, and readers will think you don’t care enough to edit. You’ll lose their trust.

If you want to break the rules, make sure that you know why you’re making that choice. Be kind to the reader.

More about flouting grammar

If you’re a grammar rule-follower, check out my short sentence fragment exercise on YouTube.

For an entertaining discourse on the differences between American English and British English, read The Prodigal Tongue by Lynne Murphy.

When I dreamed of writing books as a child, I thought I’d spend my time … writing. Perhaps I’d browse through bookstores and libraries.

It never occurred to me that my particular version of this dream would entail so many other activities and skills, including:

• Learning the ins and outs of publishing and book meta data
• Maintaining a website
• Mastering email management software

And so much more.

In the midst of my latest book launch, with my nose buried in a spreadsheet of tasks to accomplish, I’d laugh and remind myself: “I’m living the dream!” 

“Living the dream.” 

Even when we use the phrase sarcastically, it contains a nugget of truth.

Sometimes the mismatch between our dreams and reality can seem overwhelming. Someone who is moving to a new area packs and schlepps a lot of boxes, living in confusion and disorder. The aspiring actor in New York City or Hollywood may wait tables or drive for Uber while auditioning and hoping and training.

These are times we’re likely to seize on the phrase “living the dream” sarcastically. Even then, it contains a kernel of truth that can sustain us. It reminds us why we’re doing the hard parts.

Even the most glorious dreams come with trade-offs.

How about you? Is writing your dream?

The writing dream

Your version of a writing dream may not include the myriad publishing tasks that indie writers like me wrestle with. Perhaps you’ll have a major publisher and hire other people to manage your web and email lists. Perhaps your writing dream involves essays or poems in periodicals, or readings at local bookstores.

But in pursuing it seriously, you’ll encounter other messy realities, including:

• Days you don’t feel like writing or other projects that demand your time
• False starts and abandoned drafts
• Edits and revisions

These are essential parts of the job — part and parcel of the writing dream. You can get help and support, of course. But accept them with gratitude. 

And when things get hard, think back on that original dream—your reason for writing. Focus in on it with greater clarity. Do you dream of living a specific kind of life? Or is your dream to make a difference beyond yourself?

Find the reminders

Amid the flurry of book launch, I had a moment of reset when I read a review that included this bit,

I did the exercises and tested out the ideas in my projects. That made a lasting difference in my writing.

A lasting difference. Ah. That’s the reason I do this.

I’m living the dream after all!

What are you dreaming about?

Does your writing dream recede into the distant future? Is it lingering just around the corner, once you clear the decks?

(Spoiler alert: the decks are never clear.)

Maybe it’s time to jump in and write.

And, if you’re in the messy middle or feeling swamped by details or drafts, remember: this is all part of the dream. Maybe you’re already living your dream and simply need reminders to keep going.

September. It often feels like the start of something big for me. That might be a holdover from school year calendars.

What’s the shortest thing that you can create and publish or share in this month of September?

Maybe it’s a poem. Or an essay.

Maybe it’s a story you’ll write and share with your children. (I’m looking at you, Mom.)

It doesn’t even have to be writing. Perhaps it’s a one- to two-minute video like this one.

So often, we pressure ourselves to do the big projects. But small projects are the stepping stones to bigger things. They help us practice the effort of putting our work out into the world.

So this month, create something. Something small. And share it

Of all the Christmas Eves in my childhood, I remember most clearly the year someone brought a pair of stilts.

These stilts were things of wonder—light-colored wooden poles with red pegs for your feet. We celebrated the evening with another family, and we all took turns crashing around the house on them. Hilarity ensued.

As the youngest of the bunch, I loved the idea of being so much taller than everyone else for a moment. But walking on the things was much trickier than I’d hoped. Ballet classes hadn’t prepared me for balancing on poles.

I looked ridiculous. We all did.

Stilted writing

Something similar happens when we write with unfamiliar words or ideas. As we stumble to put one word after another, our prose lurches and wobbles.

High school teachers and college professors can spot if students are trying to bluff their way through a topic they don’t understand. Students try to hide behind elevated prose, and it shows.

When we elevate our tone beyond our own understanding, our language sounds (wait for it) stilted.

The issue stays with us beyond school. Faced with a blank page, many people put on a “writerly” hat and construct sentences they would never speak. That can work. But if they’re bluffing, either about what they know or who they are, the readers will sense it.

Of course, clowns and street performers learn to master the stilts. Likewise, famed literary writers may wield a style that towers over us mere mortals, pushing the boundaries of our understanding.

When we see this elevated writing, we should admire it. We might even try to imitate it as a learning exercise.

Having fun with stilts

In my book upcoming book on writing voice, I challenged myself to write instructions on how to tie a shoe in the most ridiculous legalese I could manage. Here’s an example:

Inasmuch as it is the obligation of a citizen to traverse common, public spaces without imperiling others or imposing undue liability on property owners, every person wearing footwear designed to be held on the foot by adjustable laces (excluding previously tied laces sewn on and held with elastic) shall fasten the two ends of the laces together in a form that keeps the shoe on the foot without creating a tripping hazard (and thus presenting questions of subsequent liability) for the wearer and those around them. The commonly accepted method of arranging these ties consists of two phases: 1) an initial half knot to set the desired degree of snugness, followed by 2) arranging the loose ends of the ties in a two-loop bow to safely secure the first knot while gathering the excess laces into the area above the wearer’s foot, using the technique described in the “Bunny Ears” rhyme (copyright unknown).

Can you see me tottering around on those verbal stilts? I was grinning as I wrote, like that kid at Christmas years ago.

The exercise also taught me something about what happens if I reach too high for the situation, and where I find stability in my writing.

How about you? Do you ever overextend your reach trying to sound like someone else? Or perhaps you should reach a little higher and see what that feels like? Experiment to find a level that is both comfortable and fun.

Want to dive deeper?

You can find exercises that challenge your writing style in my new book, The Writer’s Voice, available August 22, 2023.

Welcome the August writing challenge. This month, we’re getting folksy.

August is a month when many people take vacations. You might escape from your ordinary life. So this month, escape from your ordinary writing voice.

One fun way to do this is to try writing with an extremely casual, informal tone—you might even say folksy! Throw in words like persnickety or highfalutin. Try writing in the latest slang, if you know what that is. Try whatever seems both fun and unfamiliar to your usual writing style.

So go ahead, go overboard. You don’t have to share this with anyone. You probably shouldn’t.

This exercise loosens up your rigid expectations for what your writing voice “should” sound like, and that can be really useful.

If you’re always casual in your writing, flip it and try to write in a very formal, highfalutin tone. See what that feels like, just for fun.

Try it a few times this month and see what happens when you push the boundaries of your ordinary writing voice and style.

A word from our sponsor…

This month’s exercise is brought to you by the book I have coming out this month called The Writer’s Voice: Techniques for Tuning Your Tone and Style.

If you found this exercise interesting, check out the book. It will be available mid-month in all of the usual places.