For quite a while I had an endless supply of things to write about. Not so much lately. And rather drivel on about stuff that I’m only marginally into, I’ve been keeping quiet. And I’m good with that. Sure, I feel the occasional guilt… I’m ignoring Bob! But as adorable as Bob is, sometimes I want to walk my own (real) dog in the morning or afternoon. And she’s been a bit grumpy this winter with the dearth of walks.
Read moreThe "Epic" Debate
Homer’s Iliad: epic, an epic, or an epic epic? Join my jaunt on how language (d)evolves.
Read moreA Dyslexic Walks into a Bra…
I personally don’t know what it’s like to walk unexpectedly into a bra. Better than a stroll into a cobweb or a full-speed dash into a clothesline I imagine… but beware of the underwire.
Read moreShowing Up
The capital T truth is that we have so much power to write and rewrite our immediate narrative. Stand in that truth and write well, fellow humans.
Read moreFriday Faves: Song for Home
Curious what hiraeth is? Yeah, I was too, and for me, it’s a now a got a tune that I love attached to it.
Read moreFeeling Seasonally Discombobulated?
I gotta be honest, I’m just not feeling the grammar jokes today. Nor am I feeling particularly serious or intelligent. I’m just… feeling… kind of seasonally discombobulated with the slide from summer to early winter? It’s a “thing” and it’s kind of a pain! You with me?
Read moreFriday Faves: WORDS!
Which words are you favorites? You know you have a few … ones that you just like how they sound or feel … words that make you giggle, snicker, or feel all smart? I’ll throw out a few of mine just for kicks, but really, I’d like to hear yours so get busy in the comments, folks! It’s Friday, let’s get ridiculous.
Read moreThe Wood Between the Worlds
Journey with me to the Wood Between the Worlds, where you can adventure almost anywhere on your proofreading and editing projects.
Read moreA Split Infinitive Walks into a Bar - Vulcan Styles
Don’t mess with infinitives… unless you’re a Trekkie.
Read moreWhyte on Work
“We all have our own ground to work, you know. You have yours too. You just have to find out what it is. But you know what? It’s right on the edge of yourself. At the cliff edge of life. That’s the edge you go to. Put yourself in conversation with that edge no matter how frightening it seems.” —David Whyte
Read moreFriday Faves: Greta Thunberg, Swedish Climate Activist
I don’t know where you stand on climate change, but it’s time to pay attention to the the girl who’s mobilizing the world.
Read moreA gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to forget.
"Franklin the infinitive” and “Gerry the gerund” are pretty much Lilith and Norm from Cheers — except they’re friends. Check out their story on this week’s episode of Grammar Walks into a Bar… see you there!
Read moreBeware the Jabberwock, My Son!
Along came Lewis Carroll breaking all the rules… he rocked my world and exploded my imagination with this single poem.
Read moreA Tribute to Cokie
To know Cokie was to see the personification of human decency. … People felt such a deep connection to her because she touched their lives. … On a larger scale, she was always the voice of people with less power, and the voice of what is right. — Nina Totenberg
Read moreThe Plight of the Interrobang
Don’t cry for the Interrobang. The truth is it never left us. It seems that until this day the interrobang still has a “cult following.” I kid you not.
Read moreThe Tale of Bob & Hannah: A Riddle
Today, we’re going to play a little game. I’m going to invent a story. It’ll most likely sound forced and make little sense. You’re going to go along with it and ultimately tell me which ridiculous English-language phenomenon we’re dealing with. Are you ready?
Read moreA Trip Down Lover's Lane: L.M. Montgomery's Anne with an "e"
“I had no companionship except that of books and solitary rambles in wood and fields. This drove me in on myself and early forced me to construct for myself a world of fancy and imagination very different indeed from the world in which I lived.” — L.M. Montgomery
Read moreFriday Faves: Vaguely Sad, Robert Frost Poetry Edition
In my younger years, I had a brief love affair with the poet Robert Frost. Born in 1874, died in 1963, he’s buried in the Old Bennington Cemetery in Vermont where I used to go often as a kid. I’m not sure if that somehow made me feel closer to him, having wandered the same roads, pondered the same green hills and eaten the same delicious ice cream from Vermont dairy cows... maybe.
Read moreA Misplaced Modifier Walks into a Bar...
Grammar jokes are back! Dance along to the ballad of Mimi and Ralph with a cold one.
Read moreOn Eareggs and Eggcorns
The “shoe-in” has nothing to do with a shoe fitting well—sorry Cinderella, it’s shoo. This is why copyeditors exist. Hire one today. We’re paid to know this shit so you don’t have to.
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