Skunked - How to not write wrong

How to not write bad - Ben Yagoda 2013

Skunked
How to not write wrong

As with words, certain grammatical constructions are considered okay by some or most authorities but retain an offensive odor for many readers (and, crucially, teachers and editors), and should be avoided. This shouldn’t present a problem, since they’re usually not difficult to replace with the correct form.

a. First-Person First

[I and Matt will be collecting tickets for the concert.]

Matt and I will be collecting tickets for the concert.

b. Like (II)

Some have argued that the 1950s ad slogan “Winston tastes good like a cigarette should” started the modern prescriptivist movement. In any case, things have gotten to the point where using like instead of as, as if, or as though is widely accepted. But it still could get you in hot water in certain quarters.

[He looked like he really wanted to jump into the pool.]

He looked as though he really wanted to jump into the pool.

[Like the professor said, this material will be covered on the exam.]

As the professor said, this material will be covered on the exam.

c. Possessive Before a Gerund

This one is on the cusp and may get a clean bill of health before the decade is out. But for now it’s a skunker.

[I don’t like you talking about the senator in that tone.]

I don’t like your talking about the senator in that tone.

d. Past Tense

The word snuck did not appear in print before 1887, at least according to The Oxford English Dictionary. Traditionally, the past tense of to sneak had always been sneaked. Then snuck sneaked in, presumably because sneaked is hard to speak. By now, The Random House Dictionary deems it “a standard variant past tense and past participle” of sneak. In Google Fight, snuck beats sneaked by a nearly two-to-one margin.

That means, for all intents and purposes, that it’s okay. The same goes for hung and dove, which have respectively joined hanged and dived as accepted. Not so with these other relatively recent verb forms, in which the traditional participle is more and more commonly used as the past tense. They are all still skunked.

He drunk drank the water.

The fish layed laid lay on the counter, filleted and ready to broil.

(That is past tense of the verb lie, which is often confused with the verb lay. Lie is intransitive—you, or fish, do it all by yourself. Lay is transitive, meaning that you do it to something, like carpet or your burdens; it’s often followed by down. I lay laid the files on my desk.)

Honey, I shrunk shrank the kids.

In a fit of pique, he sunk sank the toy boat.

The Basie Band really swung swang.

e. Ly-Less Adverbs

A common move in spoken English is streamlining adverbs.

[This was a real nice clambake.]

[Think different.]

[He didn’t do so bad.]

[That car sure drives smooth.]

I bracketed those sentences with a heavy heart because they have such a nice, casual sound to them. Hey: I even called this book How to Not Write Bad! Unfortunately, this sort of thing is still skunked in writing meant for anything more formal than a blog post. The first, second, and third examples are easily changed:

This was a really nice clambake. (Apologies to Oscar Hammerstein.)

Think differently. (Apologies to Steve Jobs.)

He didn’t do so badly.

However, the third runs into a problem that’s illuminated by a famous bit of dialogue from the movie Airplane:

RUMACK: Can you fly this plane, and land it?

STRIKER: Surely you can’t be serious.

RUMACK: I am serious…and don’t call me Shirley.

Surely is a hard word to pull off. Moreover, as in the bracketed example, the adverbial sure is sometimes used to mean something slightly different from surely. Here, the best tack might be seeking out another word altogether.

That car certainly [or definitely, or really] drives smoothly.

There are some exceptions. When a verb indicates a state of being—that is, if it could theoretically be replaced by the verb to be—it should be followed by the non -ly, or adjective, form.

You look beautiful. I feel good. I feel great. I feel bad. I feel fine. I feel pretty. The dinner tasted wonderful.

[I feel badly] and [the dinner tasted wonderfully] are hypercorrection.

An apparent exception to this is the word well, especially in negative sentences. (It’s only an apparent exception because in this context, well is an adjective, as in well-baby clinic.) So we say, He didn’t feel well, so he stayed home from work.

f. Only, the Lonely

For a little word, only creates a heap of difficulties. For a century or more, it was a sticklers’ article of faith that this adverb had to be placed directly in front of the word it was modifying, or else all sorts of ambiguous hell would break loose. Thus, the sticklers would have had you write:

I have eyes only for you.

Only God knows what I’d be without you.

I want to be with only you.

Music fans of a certain advanced age will recognize these as mangled and ruined versions of the titles of some classic pop songs: “I Only Have Eyes for You,” “God Only Knows (What I’d Be Without You),” and “I Only Want to Be with You.”

Here’s the thing. In pop songs and in speech, please feel free to put only in any position that feels right and seems to make sense. In formal or public writing, however, the sticklers’ rule about placement still applies. (Barely.)

He only has only one more course to take before graduation.

Germany’s economy only grew by only 1 percent last year.

I’m only asking only for a little respect.

g. Assorted Grammatically Skunked Expressions

[He couldn’t help but be impressed.]

He couldn’t help being impressed.

[It’s not that big of a deal.]

It’s not that big a deal.

[I’m a person that likes to laugh.]

I’m a person who likes to laugh.