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Category Archives: Language use

Be careful! Decimated

I have always foamed at the gills slightly when someone has used decimated to refer to “lots of people/things”, as in “The invading army decimated the defenders and no one on that side survived”.

That’s because I’d learned that decimated means to kill a tenth. The clue’s in the first part of the word – from the Latin decimus or tenth (it came into English via Middle English). There is a specific use of the word that does mean that – in ancient Rome, one in ten of a group of soldiers could be killed to punish the mutiny of the whole group.

But look in your dictionary nowadays and you will see something along the lines of “To destroy a large proportion of something” as the first and major meaning. There may be a little explanation relating to those pedants among us who still insist on the idea of killing only a tenth of the population of whatevers. But this is one that has passed into common usage, and having found this out, I am no longer permitted to froth at the gills when I hear the “other” usage.

I was going to say that I’ll still never use it myself in the less precise way … but I’m not sure that I have ever, actually, used the word …

Be careful! is a series of posts about words that are misused commonly – but really shouldn’t be. It’s not a new variant of meaning, it’s an error that gets duplicated as people see the word misused and copy it.

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Posted by on June 17, 2013 in Be careful, Errors, Language use, Writing

 

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Marinade or marinate?

This one was suggested to me by my friend, Laura Creaven. I do like it when people suggest Pairs to me – so keep them coming, everyone!

Here we have two cooking terms which look oh-so-similar – but one is a noun and one is a verb!

A marinade is a mixture of oils, spices and vinegar in which we soak meat, fish or other proteins such as quorn or tofu, so that they soak up the flavours.

To marinate is to soak such items in such a mixture.

But wait: what’s this? The dictionary also has a verb, to marinade, which means … to marinade.

So you can marinate or marinade your slab of tofu or your fish, but you can only soak them in a marinade.

You can find more troublesome pairs here and the index to them all so far is here.

 
 

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Wave or waive? Waver or waiver?

After a short hiatus, the Troublesome Pairs are back! Today we’re looking at one that I see getting mixed up very often one way round, and not so often the other way – which is actually often the way.

A wave is a movement back or forth – whether it’s a hand, water or something in one’s hand that’s waving (“She gave the steam train a big wave as it chuffed past”). It’s also the signal made by that movement. The verb means to move back and forth while remaining itself fixed position (“I always wave at steam trains, and other kinds of train, too”; “She waved a stick at the dog to attract its attention”). Other meanings follow the movement of a wave, e.g. a light curl in the hair or what the dictionaries rather soberly call a ridged mass of water. It can also be a sudden increase in a phenomenon eg. a wave of copy-cat head shavings.

To waive, on the other hand, and this is the one that gets written “wave” quite often, is to refrain from claiming or insisting on – “Because you don’t have much income, I will waive my fee”, “he waived his right to anonymity”. A waiver is an act or instance of waiving a right or claim or a document recording this – “Before you drive this steam train, please sign this waiver to absolve us from blame if you get covered in soot”. A waver, however, is someone who’s waving.

“He waved the waiver in glee – ‘I don’t have to pay the fee!'”

You can find more troublesome pairs here and the index to them all so far is here.

 
 

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Bated or baited?

Another one of those homophones that trips people up – perhaps more in one direction than the other? I see “with baited breath” a fair bit, but not the opposite error – and in fact it’s all about this one phrase, really, isn’t it.

Baited can be used as an adjective to describe, for example, a fish hook that has had something tempting slotted onto it to lure a fish – “I lowered the baited hook into the water and waited for the bite”. It’s also the past tense of “bait”, to put bait in a trap or on a hook, or to deliberately taunt or annoy someone (or something sentient).

Bated in the sense we’re discussing here only exists in this precise form within this phrase – how interesting! More reason to make sure we keep using it correctly – you know how I get about wanting to preserve the intricacies of our amazing language … So – “with bated breath” means “in great suspense” and comes from a 16th century usage, the past participle of bate (restrain), coming from abate, which we do still use, of course.

Bate, by the way, describes an angry mood in informal British English “ooh, don’t get in a bate with me, I was only teasing”  and is also a falconry term describing when a hawk beats its wings in agitation and flutters off its perch. So now you know.

“I waited with bated breath as he baited his sister that little bit too much … and she eventually flew into a bate”

You can find more troublesome pairs here and the index to them all so far is here.

 
 

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On being edited

editsWriters are always being told by other writers (and editors) about the importance of being edited. But what does it actually feel like to have someone go through your precious words with that dreaded red pen? Only recently, as I’ve struggled with edits in my own book, have I realised how my clients must feel when they receive their poor corrected texts back from me. I hope this new understanding will help me to be a better editor …

On being edited

I’ve been putting together an e-book based on my Libro Full Time blog which has charted my experiences of going full-time self-employed. I pulled all the blog posts together, added some commentary, an introduction, fleshed it out a bit, read it through … but before I went to publish it I did as all good writers (should) do and considered having it edited.

I put a call out for beta readers and a few kind volunteers spoke up. One read it and made some excellent, useful comments, although I was a little thrown even then to see my words through someone else’s eyes. Another friend did EXACTLY as I hoped she would – she went through it line by line, picking out errors, suggesting better ways of writing sentences, AND commented on the structure, the way it hung together, how the experience of reading it could be improved.

This is the Thing: One It was like having ME edit that book. And I know I’m a decent editor

This is the Thing: Two I hated reading those comments the first time round

This is how I make my clients feel!

That was my first thought. No: my first thought was, “My text, my beautiful text! How dare she muck with it??” All defences up, all crests raised, spines bristling, eyes watering …

And I must be at pains to point out here that my friend:

  • Did it right – she said exactly what I would have said had the document been written by anybody else
  • Did it kindly – no snarkiness, no visible or invisible sighs
  • Did a good job – she picked up micro and macro errors
  • MADE THE TEXT BETTER – she really, really did

But my knee-jerk reaction, in pretty well this order, was

  • Anger – how dare she mess with my text? I write stuff all the time! It can’t be wrong! … oh …
  • Horror – how did I not notice THAT?
  • Shame – I was going to publish this pile of rubbish?
  • Embarrassment – someone has seen this in this state!
  • Despair – will I ever get this into shape or should I just give up now? I know, I’ll give up

In the interests of research, I’ve gone back and looked at the text. It’s fine: it can be whipped into shape and it will be a much better book for it.

Once I’d gone through these cycles of shame, horror, despair and … finally … acceptance, the terrible realisation dawned on me …

This is how my clients must feel when they get their work back from me

Is it just me, or is it everyone?

I asked some editor colleagues, writers and people I’ve worked with what being edited feels like to them. We all know it’s a worthwhile process – but I was after the emotional reaction.

My old friend, Annabelle Hitchcock from Yara Consulting reported that she feels quite comfortable about being edited, “but specifically about being edited by you, Liz. I know you and I trust you and I know that you know my writing style and won’t alter it into something that it’s not. I also trust you to give me feedback, and to make sure that I’m actually communicating what I THINK I’m communicating”. So that trust is very important, and makes it easier (although I trusted the ladies who looked at my text, too, of course … )

Trust comes up for Alison Mead of Silicon Bullet, too – “Personally for my blog posts, knowing I am going to be edited means I can type my stream of consciousness without worrying too much about grammar and spelling , so my words can have the flow they would if I was talking them – but I have the confidence that those errors will be picked up and corrected. To be honest I don’t notice the edits – so have no idea how many changes you actually make! It is good to have that trust and confidence about the job being done well!”.

So these two highlight the ideal working relationship between an editor and a writer. It’s worth noting that I have been working on small blog post texts for these two ladies for a few years now, and have known them for significantly longer. But how do you build up that trust instantly? And what if’ you’re an editorial and writing professional yourself?

Here’s someone who actively enjoys it, but do note that he still finds it challenging: “I enjoy being edited. It gives me a chance to see how other editors do things, gets me to think about things I have done unthinkingly, and reminds me that all writers, even if they are also editors, have blind spots sometimes. It is also a little nerve-racking, of course – but then many worthwhile things are!” – Sebastian Manley of Manley Editorial.

And another editor colleague, Katharine O’Moore Klopf of KOK Edit, has a similar emotional pathway to mine: “My initial reaction to being edited—and I’ve been an editor since 1984—is ‘Oh, #@&^!’ And then I start reading through the edits and nodding my head, thinking, ‘You know, that’s a good edit. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.’ And by the time I’ve finished reviewing the edits, I’m thinking, ‘Thank goodness for editors!’ You’d think I’d go straight to the ‘thank goodness’ part by now, but there is always that first little shock.”

And what about fiction authors? I suspect that fiction and memoir writers are the ones most wedded to their words, as they are perhaps most personal to them (I might be wrong there, though!).

Steve Hewson, author of “The Wild Earth” writes,”I asked Linda Bates to edit my first novel. Prior to the process starting, I imagined that the it might be more of a grammatical check (necessary because a) I am very (and unavoidably) careless b) I don’t really know anything about grammar. However, it soon became clear that editing was a whole other level of input. Once I’d decided to put in the effort to properly respond to Linda’s editorial suggestions (I was rather busy and somewhat tired of the whole affair prior to giving it to Linda) I found it really challenging and enjoyable.” So there’s the c-word again – “challenging”. Steve has gone on to kindly describe the whole process for us:

“I remember being aghast that the first page (which I thought was pretty good) had loads of changes suggested. (17, after counting them!). Then on the next pages I saw that Linda had added many comments concerning word definitions, writing styles and so on. I was dismayed at the clear time implications of working on these and also thought that Linda might be overdoing the proofreading job. However, I took the plunge and accepted the changes and realised that the result was more streamlined and clean.

Once I had decided to devote my energies to reworking the book I soon got into the stride and began to welcome the editorial changes rather than dread them. I think that being edited is rather similar to being filmed whilst teaching or lecturing: unconscious habits of pen are unearthed in the same way that the camera reveals unconscious habits of speech (such as saying ‘erm’ very frequently). I realised that I made frequent use of double adverbs. It was really very tough (see what I did there …) to realise that this habit made the text less engaging, but was good to realise this.

The sort of comment that I never got used to were those concerning the ways that the characters spoke or behaved. I love my characters and to be told ‘X wouldn’t say that sort of thing’ was always met defensively. I was particularly distressed to be told that I had (at a key moment) unconsciously reinforced gender stereotypes with Gracie. This was a difficult pill to swallow, especially since I had deliberately attempted to eliminate this sort of thing. Still I emerged a better person for it, and Gracie has a little more action at a key part of the book. I’m sure she’d thank me for it …”

Thanks to Steve for that great description of what it feels like to be edited – I’m sure my fellow editors will read it with great interest!

How do we make it right?

So, as editors, how do we make this process as smooth as possible for our clients? I have realised that they will never just grab the new document with joy, making all the changes immediately and unquestioningly. Well, some of them will, but going by the comments I garnered and discussed above, only people I’ve known for years who just have little bits and bobs for me to work on are likely to do that.

As for the rest of them, well, now I have some inkling of how they feel when they receive my annotated manuscript back, I’m going to make these resolutions:

  1. Try to build trust first of all – I already send links to my references, and many of my clients come via recommendation – and I have a new procedure whereby I send the style sheet I’ve put together during the editing process to the author at the end, thus proving I know what I’m doing and there are reasons for my choices.
  2. Remain kind. Sometimes I do get a little exasperated. But I, too, make the same mistakes throughout, repeat myself and am not always consistent. So why should I expect anyone else to be any different?
  3. Understand that when the client asks a question, sometimes they just need reassurance that they’re  not stupid or rubbish at writing. And they are almost never casting doubt on my ability, but either wanting to know why in order to make their writing better, or being anxious generally.
  4. Make sure I praise as well as criticise. I do try to do this already; I will try to do it more, now. Whether they’ve written a great bibliography or coined a smart turn of phrase, even if they’ve just managed to avoid plagiarising or quoting Wikipedia this time round, there’s always something to praise and I must find it and mention it.

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Has this article struck a chord? Are you a writer with something to say about your emotional reaction to being edited? Are you an editor who’s found ways to smooth this emotional path? Do share in the comments!

 

Pacific or specific?

DictionariesI don’t know about you, but I had suspected that this one was something of an urban myth, encountered only in sitcoms or observational comedy. As I came across it myself, yesterday, in a verbal interaction, I do suspect that it only appears verbally, and not in written form, in its non-ironic instances. (I don’t go in for finger-pointing for the sake of it, but if you do come across a written instance, do let me know.)

So, for the avoidance of doubt:

Pacific means peaceful in either intent or character (or both), or related to the Pacific Ocean.

Specific, which I would like to hazard a guess is 99.9% of the time the word the user means to use, means precise, clear, clearly defined – so “would you like your new mattress delivered on a specific date or don’t you mind when it arrives?” and is also used in relation to a particular subject – “These tufts are specific to this particular kind of mattress”.

You can find more troublesome pairs here and the index to them all so far is here.

 
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Posted by on February 11, 2013 in Errors, Language use, Troublesome pairs, Writing

 

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Zeros or zeroes?

DictionariesI have to admit that I had never given this one any consideration until it came up in something I was working on yesterday, and I had to look it up to check. So: zeros or zero?

Zeros is a plural noun, and oddly enough it’s the plural of zero. No e when you have lots of zeros.

Zeroes is a form of the verb to zero (in), meaning either to set a measuring device back to zero (I have never heard or read this myself, but M confirms that he uses it with measurement devices in his scientific job!), or to home in on something: “She zeroed in on the fact that he had hidden the muddy boots in the shed”.

So the noun has no e – “there are too many zeros in this post” and the verb does have an e – “my reader zeroes in on the fact that I had to look it up and contacts me to ask me why I don’t know everything off the top of my head”.

You can find more troublesome pairs here and the index to them all so far is here.

 
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Posted by on January 11, 2013 in Errors, Language use, Troublesome pairs, Writing

 

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Slay or sleigh?

DictionariesSomeone told me that they had actually seen this one on a festive poster last week, so welcome to the Christmas 2012 Troublesome Pair!

To slay is to kill in a violent manner. You can also use it in a metaphorical way: “I’m going to slay that demon and face up to the supermarket on Christmas Eve”.

Slay (as a noun) is also an alternative spelling for sley, which is a tool which is used in weaving, to push the weft into place. No, I didn’t know that either, and I’m guessing that the author of the unfortunate poster wasn’t talking about Santa and his weaving activities.

A sleigh is a sledge drawn by reindeer or horses. A sledge is a vehicle set on runners which is used to travel over snow and ice, propelled by gravity downhill or pushed or pulled. Oh, and a sled is a North American term for sledge. Don’t say I don’t give you added value!

Season’s Greetings and I hope you enjoy 2013’s Troublesome Pairs and Trios!

You can find more troublesome pairs here and the index to them all so far is here.

 
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Posted by on December 24, 2012 in Errors, Language use, Troublesome pairs, Writing

 

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Silicon or silicone?

I have to admit that I hadn’t fully grasped the differences between these two. So I’m guessing lots of other people hadn’t done either. And the dictionary is quite opaque on this, talking about chemical compounds rather than the essential, understandable differences, although my trusty “New Oxford Style Manual” does better.

Silicon is a naturally occurring element (symbol Si) which is hard and durable and used in the silicon chips inside computers.

Silicone is a synthetic compound of silicon, and this is the one that’s used in breast implants and cooking utensils: it can be a liquid or gel as well as a solid.

So, actually two that it’s a good idea NOT to get mixed up!

You can find more troublesome pairs here and the index to them all so far is here.

 
 

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Pair, pear or pare?

It’s homonym time in Libro Towers, with this classic easily confused trio …

A pair is a set of two things which are joined together or otherwise considered as a unit – including people or animals which are considered together – a pair of naughty boys; a pair of horses used to pull a carriage; a pair of wires twisted together to conduct your home phone signal.

A pear is an edible fruit or the tree that bears that fruit.

To pare (notice that this one’s a verb where the others are nouns) is to trim something by cutting the outer edges off, so you might pare an apple to take the skin off – it also has a more metaphorical meaning around reducing or diminishing something in stages rather than all at once, like taking the outer then inner layers off a piece of fruit, so you might pare down staffing levels gradually rather than sacking everyone at once.

So, if you had two pieces of fruit and you wanted to remove the skin from them, you might pare a pair of pears!

You can find more troublesome pairs here and the index to them all so far is here.

 
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Posted by on December 14, 2012 in Errors, Language use, Troublesome pairs, Writing

 

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