William Safire may not be a household name, but his work kept me on edge. As a nationally syndicated columnist, he scrutinized the writing errors of others.
Every Sunday, I would anxiously read his column, relieved to find that I had not committed any misplaced modifiers – as if Safire even read family humor.
That was the impact he had on me. Or maybe it was the effect. Possibly both.
The late Safire, a fan of alliteration, passed away in 2009, but his influence endures.
Recently, several readers pointed out some glaring errors in my writing. In an effort to prevent further erosion of the English language, I must acknowledge my mistakes. Consider this the entrance to the confessional.
Forgive me, Safire, for I have transgressed.
People are also reading…
Following my Memorial Day column, a veteran informed me that taps is never “played” or “performed.” Taps is always “sounded,” as it is a bugle call and not meant for entertainment.
The veteran was correct, supported by the Associated Press Stylebook and the Pentagon. “Sounded” is the appropriate verb for taps.
Although it may not sound natural, “sounded” is the correct usage. What irks me most is the failure to capitalize “taps.” Additionally, after a golf-related column, a reader clarified that one does not “golf,” but rather “plays golf.”
Runners run, swimmers swim, and skiers ski, but golfers do not golf – they play golf. They also do not “go golfing,” at least not the serious ones.
Both readers who provided corrections did so kindly. Whether it is in writing, plumbing, cooking, or coding, receiving corrections is easier when delivered with kindness rather than criticism.
I tend to think fast, write fast, and edit fast. It’s the editing that often trips me up.
Early in my career, I learned that a good copy editor is a writer’s best ally. A skilled copy editor can make you appear more intelligent than you actually are.
In a college newswriting class, the advice was to “write short.” Being 5-foot-2, I’ve found it to be effective. Apologies for the pun. Writing concisely minimizes potential errors.
I am currently engrossed in “The Unexpected Abigail Adams,” a book featuring excerpts from her 2,000 letters. Her correspondence is filled with random capitalization, unconventional spelling, apostrophe-less contractions, and liberal use of semicolons and commas to construct long sentences.
If you notice any mistakes in this column, don’t hesitate to attribute them to my “channeling” of Abigail Adams.
Lori Borgman is a columnist, author, and speaker. Her book, “What Happens at Grandma’s Stays at Grandma’s,” is now available. Contact her at lori@loriborgman.com.
