Writing tip: Break complex ideas into manageable chunks

Photo: Building Blocks by Myfear on Flickr. Creative Commons licence.

Periodically, my university student sons ask for writing advice for their assignments. Most recently, the elder asked for another word for "prelude" or "precursor."

What the Blond Raven wanted to do was describe how Algeria's experience in the 1990s, when a number of religious groups rebelled against the military government, was similar to the situation today in Syria.

"Why not just say that?" I asked.

"That's not ... fancy enough for a university paper," he said.

"All right," I said, realizing that the situation screamed for improvisation. "Preface your paper with this:

In defiance of the tacit pretentious approach to expression accepted in scholarly journals, henceforth this paper shall be written in style that all readers with an education beyond the sixth grade can understand.

Why is it that academic writing is purposely dense? Incomprehensible? Why does every sentence have to be dissected and reassembled to be taken seriously?

In other words, why can't academic papers attain the same standards of other forms of communication—why can't they be written in clear language?

Or to put it more plainly: why don't academics use clear writing?

How about this one:

As a result of these intermeshing trends, strengthening states through statebuilding programmes has come to be regarded by major donors as a central response to violent conflict and insecurity and a core element of peacebuilding programmes (and of development assistance). In the post-colonial states of the Global South, external peacebuilding operations are often faced  

[Sorry, my fingers got tired there.] 

not only with responding to the effects of vioent institutions coexising with other logics of authority, power, and order (ethnic, tribal, religious, criminal etc.). 

(Source: Tarya Vayrynen, "Gender and Peacebuilding," in Oliver P. RIchmond's Palgrave advances in peacebuilding,University of St. Andrews, UK: Macmillan Palgrave, 2010).

Before you read it again, tell me: what was the beginning of the paragraph about?

How about this winner from an article on nationalism: 

For present purposes, the two relevant cultural systems are the religious community and the dynastic realm. For both of these, in their heydays, were taken-for-granted frames of reverence, very much as nationality is today. It is therefore essential to consider what gave these cultural systems their self-evident plausibility, and at the same time to underline certain key elements in their decomposition.

These two examples could so easily be written more clearly. I have always belived that the audience should be able to understand a text after reading it the first time. But if you cannot remember the beginning of the paragraph byt the time you get to the end, the writing fails. If you get lost in the maze of loosely connected clauses, it means the writer has not followed the first rule of writing: know your audience.

Academic writing often runs into the problem of trying to cram too many ideas into one sentence. Broadely speaking, the job of the researcher is to find patterns and connections between facts and phenomenal. When they find connections and correlations, it's tempting to try to fit them all together in one sentence. The researcher gets excited: "Look how these ideas are connected! It makes so much sense, and together, they mean this!"

We've all been there.

Stop. Breathe in through your nose, and blow out through your mouth. There. Now, you're relaxed.

It's not easy, but the solution is to think through, very carefully, what you're trying to say. Break it down into single sentences and the just write the connections in order, as simply as you can. 

Sometimes, we need to express complex ideas. Sometimes, the connections among causes and effects are complicated. The solution is like project management: break the big, complicated mess up into smaller, manageable chunks. Deal with each one in turn, then move on to the next idea.

Like this: 

The two cultural systems relevant today can be called the religious community and the dynastic realm. Each of these systems dominated different societies at different times in history. Where they did, the people in the societies they dominated took them for granted, in the same way people today take nationality for granted as a basis for states today. What gave these other cultural systems their plausibility? What were the key elements that unravelled them?

The Blond Raven is right. This is far too simple, too clear, for today's scholarly journals. Why, if everyone could understand these articles, why should they bother with expensive post-secondary education?

Writing tips: Beware the comma splice

Comma butterfly image © Copyright Peter Trimming;
licensed for reuse under Creative Commons.

Commas are probably the most abused punctuation mark in English today, and probably the most overused, too. Here are a few tips to make them easier to use correctly.

Commas separate parts of a sentence:

• items in a list 
• phrases
• clauses.

Don’t leave out commas from your writing. They represent the pauses in speech, and give readers a chance to take a breath — important even if we’re not reading aloud.

However, don’t overuse them, either. I remember one educational film made in the UK in (judging from the awful clothing) the mid-70s, that said overusing commas made text seem like the writer had hiccups!

• The carpet, when delivered, will be laid by our approved carpet layers, who are, in your area, Thomas and Jones, Inc.

Read that aloud with a pause at every comma, and you’ll hear what I mean.

Think of a comma as a brief pause to make it clear what ideas belong together.

• Since this is a new responsibility for the agency, based on new legislation ...

Which is different from

• Since this is a new responsibility, for the agency based on new legislation ...

Image source: Moblog, creative commons

Those splices won’t hold!

Commas are not strong enough to separate complete thoughts. For that, you need a period — or at least a semi-colon. Sometimes, even talented writers will use commas in situations that need periods. This is called the “comma splice.”
Here are some examples from a book I helped to edit a little while ago, doctored somewhat to protect the innocent. I mean, guilty.

• The woman in the red dress was no common thief, she’d seen too much, taken too much.

That’s two complete thoughts, so it should be two complete sentences. Replace the comma with a period and capitalize “She’d,” and you have a grammatically correct sentence.

The next example has the same problem:

Raising the money took priority, nothing could get in the way of that.

Sometimes, though, we don’t want to use the full stop, as the Brits like to call the period. There are cases where the period does not express what we are trying to say.

• Too bad if the marine lived, he had learned long ago that least dangerous soldier was a dead soldier.

These are two separate thoughts, but in this case, they’re closely related. Replace the comma with a semi-colon. Same with the next example:

• Not so long ago, he thought Karen would be the only one for him, now barely a thought of her came into his head.

The simple way to remember it is this: if a group of words has a subject and a verb, it’s a sentence. That means it also needs to begin with a capital letter and end with a period. Even two words can be a complete sentence:

• Johnny ran.

An imperative (command) sentence can be one word:

• Run!

And that means, end it with a period. Most of the time. You can also use question marks for questions, and occasionally exclamation marks, too. But use those rarely.

Link related sentences with a semi-colon, but again, go lightly with them. They’re like habanero peppers — terrific when they’re used sparingly.

For more on sentences, check out my blog post from last November. And if you have a question, put it in the comments, or send me an email or a tweet.

Writing Tip: The Sentence, Part 1



Brain structure: emw/Creative Commons

 Lately, I’ve been reading a lot of work that shows severe problems with sentence structure. Whether in fiction or non-fiction, it’s almost as if the writers do not understand what a sentence is.

For example:

An analysis of survey results conducted by GHI concluded that different groups of consumers face different kinds of challenges, this includes unemployed and underemployed as well as low-income groups.

 Or the opposite problem, exemplified in this case in fiction:

The chattering of Will’s teeth, as loud as the cold north wind that blew down through mountains.

The problem in the first case is a comma splice: joining two separate sentences with a comma, rather than separating them with a period (or maybe a semi-colon).

Freeimages.co.uk

In the second example, the problem is an incomplete sentence. Something is missing — a verb. This is how a grammatically complete sentence would read:

The chattering of Will’s teeth was as loud as the cold north wind that blew down through mountains.

That’s not a particularly creative solution, but it’s correct.

Another example, with some light surgery to hide the actual source:

But back to the economy, all three projects expanded simultaneously and required capitalization, no wonder the organization’s bottom line was depleted.

The unit of expression

Think of the sentence as your basic unit of expression. A word may be a unit of meaning, but a single word by itself does not usually express an idea.


Back when I was in grade school, after cleaning the sabre-tooth tigers’ litter boxes, we all learned that a sentence expressed a single complete thought. To do that, it needs two elements: a verb or predicate — action — and a subject, which is usually a noun or a pronoun.

Creative Commons

The quick red fox jumps.

The action word, the verb, is “jumps.” “Fox,” of course, is the subject. The rest of the words describe the subject.

Sometimes, you don’t need the subject to be written out: “Duck!” The subject is “you, implied” — a concept that caused all sorts of confusion when I was in school.

That’s it: noun and verb. Other words just describe the subject or complete the action. End it with a period.

A wave of lust slammed into her body.

Just “lust slammed” would be a grammatically complete sentence.

The subject can also be a phrase or a clause: a group of words that function together as a noun.

Resisting the temptation to crush her body against his and tear off her clothes took all his willpower.

The subject in that example did not end until after “clothes.” (And “after clothes” is one of my favourite places.)

That’s all there is to it. To write clearly, write about something doing something.

Joining complete thoughts

To join two complete thoughts — sentences — you have to have the right kind of link. Usually, it’s not a period, but a word or a group of words. I won’t go into the formal grammatical expression here; if you read good writing, you’ll develop a sense of what “sounds” right.

Here are some examples of what not to do, and corrections. Again, these are taken from real sources, but doctored slightly so as to keep the guilty hidden until they can redeem their sins.

Run-on sentence

The run-on sentence happens when one complete idea follows another without any punctuation or joining phrases.

Image Wikipedia Commons

She got up and went into the bathroom and got a wet washrag and came back and laid it across her mother’s forehead.

There are more than one problem with this example. The succession of clauses joined by “and,” while grammatically correct, gets tedious. There’s also way too much detail. You don’t need to describe every single action: your reader can figure out the intervening actions.

She wet a rag in the bathroom and laid it across her mother’s forehead.

Not that I minded I can curse with the best of them, as you’ve probably noticed.

Not that I minded; I can curse with the best of them, as you’ve probably noticed.

Comma splice

Another common error is joining two related sentences with a comma instead of a semi-colon.

She took his hand again, “how are we going to keep them safe?” She whispered.

Again, there are more than one problem here:

She took his hand again. “How are we going to keep them safe?” she whispered.

“If we move quickly we could be off in front of the soldiers, we’ve got fast horses and money.”

“If we move quickly we could get ahead of the soldiers — we’ve got fast horses and money.”

“The horses need to rest tonight, so do we.” Gianni replied.

“The horses need to rest tonight, and so do we,” Gianni replied.
 

A matter of style?

Wikipedia Commons

Who cares, though? As long as the underlying meaning comes across, does grammar really matter?

Yes. First of all, using grammar correctly, especially such a basic concept as understanding what a complete sentence is, is a necessary but not sufficient indicator of professionalism. Whether you’re writing fiction, advertising or technical reports, if you don’t come across as professional, no one will take your document seriously. And if the audience doesn’t believe you, why bother writing?

Clarity is even more important. Consider this:

For hospitals seeking increased profitability in the operating room (OR) it is essential to streamline the movement of materials from suppliers to the hands of doctors efficiently acquiring and moving supplies critical to OR procedures are measurable ways to reduce costs, increase revenue capture, optimize labour and improve process management.

What’s efficient: doctors’ hands, or moving supplies?

When the subject is medical care, I think clarity is pretty darn important.

What do you think? Having trouble with sentences? Ask a question or leave a comment!

Writing tips: Consistency stinks, but without it, you're sunk

Skunk in the backyard, courtesy TooKoolDoggies.blogspot.com

"The skunk in the back yard last night stunk, didn’t it?"

"No, it stank." 

Or is stunk right?


What about this one: “The ship sunk during the storm last night”? Is that correct?


English. It can be beautiful, powerful, inspiring. It can also be maddeningly confusing and inconsistent.


There are so many inconsistencies to trip people up, that if languages were shopping malls, English would be closed until it was brought up to code.


For instance, consider the past tense. English usually indicates an action that occurred in the past by adding an –ed to the end — like in occurred. Then there are all the other verbs that show past tense in other ways, like thrown, or eaten.


Verbs that end in –ing and –ink give people a lot of trouble. Simple examples pretend to set the pattern:

Infinitive	Past tense	Past participle
ring	rang	has rung/was rung
sing	sang	has sung/was sung

Then, English goes and changes the pattern just a little, with –ing verbs that have identical past past participle forms. There doesn’t seem to be any logical distinction. You just have to memorize this.

cling	clung	has clung
fling	flung	has flung/was flung
hang	hung "from the chimney with care"	has hung/was hung

However, when using hang to mean a form of execution, the past tense and past participle are hanged and was hanged: Billy Bailey was the last person to be hanged in the US.


Some verbs ending in –ink conform to these patterns, too:

drink	drank	has drunk/was drunk
sink	sank	has sunk/was sunk
slink	slunk	has slunk
stink	stank or stunk	has stunk

But not link or ink (as in to put something in ink, or to cover something with ink).


Of course, there are –ing verbs that follow the more usual pattern of adding –ed for the past tense and participle: ding or ping, for instance.


Then, there are the most baffling verbs of all:

bring	brought	has brought/was brought
think	thought	has thought/was thought

There is almost a logic, but if you can’t have more than two examples that follow the same method to indicate past tense, that doesn’t really make it a system.


To answer the questions I started with: stunk or stank are both acceptable past tense forms for stink, according to the Oxford Dictionary. However, sank is the correct past tense for sink, while sunk is the past participle.


What about you? What exceptions give you the most trouble?

The Titanic sank in the North Atlantic.


The Titanic was sunk by an iceberg.

Just between you and I — I mean, you and me — Edwards is not credible

John Edwards says God has a plan for him, specifically. If that's not
hubris, what is?

John Edwards’ self-serving apology illustrates a lot of things: hubris, political weaseliness, and a very common grammatical mistake. See if you can spot it: “It's me. It is me and me alone."

Points to those of you who know Edwards should have said “It is I and I alone who is responsible.” There are many bloggers who have other ideas about what Edwards should have said years ago, but this blog’s purpose is not to criticize behaviour or politics. That’s just a side benefit.

 

Using your “I” without lenses

To be fair, most people use “it’s me.” I do, in everyday conversation. But don’t you remember your Grade 7 English teacher trying to explain copula verbs and objects to you? In sum, the verb “to be” does not take objects. I don’t know why — I didn’t invent this twisted language. That means you have to use subjective forms of pronouns to follow “is,” “was,” “am,” and “were.”

Remember how your proper grandmother tried to get you to answer the phone, “this is she”?

That rule leads to a lot of confusion. How many of you say or write “just between you and I.”

I once heard Peter Mansbridge (Canada’s handsomest newscaster, according to the Royal Canadian Air Farce) say that, years ago. But I forgave him because he was talking to Ralph Benmergui.



 

Here’s the problem: “between” is a preposition, and prepositions are followed by objects. That means you have to use the objective form of the pronoun — in this case, “me.”

“Just between you and me, Ralph, John Edwards’ speech about God didn’t do him any good.”

Another example — which of the following do you think is correct:

• “Set up the meeting with coffee for the manager and I.” 

• “Set up the meeting with coffee for the manager and me.”

The second one is correct.

Proof

Don’t believe me? Here’s the way to test it: take out the other noun in the phrase.

• “Set up the meeting with coffee for the manager and I.” 
• “Set up the meeting with coffee for I.”

That doesn’t sound right, does it?

Let’s watch out for this one. Remember, in a prepositional phrase, use the objective forms of pronouns:

• for x and me
• between you and me
• for Iris and him
• among Lara, Bogdan and her.

Still doubtful? Why not put your troubling sentences into a comment, and I’ll work it out for you.

Looking forward to it!