I? Me? Which Gets Used When?

I get asked this a lot. Just this past week, several folks asked me how to determine whether to use “me” or “I” in a sentence. The answer comes down to where the pronoun gets placed.

English uses different kinds of pronouns. We all know the basic subjective ones: I, you, he, she and it (singular subjective pronouns), and we, you and they (plural subjective pronouns). Despite recent usage and popular insistence to the contrary, “they” is not a singular pronoun. Subjective pronouns get used as the subject of a sentence.

We’ve also got objective pronouns. No, they aren’t the ones that are unbiased or impartial; they’re not grammatical Switzerland. These are: me, you, him, her and it (singular objective pronouns) and us, you and them (plural objective pronouns). Objective pronouns get used as the object of a sentence.

You’d never say, “Me went to the store to buy cookies,” unless, of course, you’re Cookie Monster. (But then you’d say, “Me went store buy cookies!”) But human you would say, “I went to the store to buy cookies.” You’d use “I” because it’s the subject of the sentence – so you’d use the subjective pronoun.

But if you’re using a pronoun as the object of a sentence, always use the objective pronouns: “Jim bought a chicken sandwich for me.” You would never say, “Jim bought a chicken sandwich for I.”

Pretty basic. Right?

Now let’s take a look at compound subjects and compound objects. Here’s where the butchery of the English language really drives me nuts – especially when I hear teachers (who should know better!) using the incorrect pronouns.

You should never – I repeat (emphatically and vociferously), NEVER – say, “Me and Catherine went to the mall.” Or even, “Catherine and me went to the mall.” If the pronoun is the subject of the sentence, you always use a subjective pronoun. And if more than one person is involved – either as the subject or the object – you always mention yourself last.

In this case, you would say, “Catherine and I went to the mall.”

Likewise, you would never say “Him and me went to the store.” Those are both objective pronouns. You’d say, “He and I went to the store.”

And here’s an example of a compound object: “Pete went to the movies with Gary and me.” Not, “Pete went to the movies with Gary and I.”

If you need another clue as to whether to use I or me in compound structure, try removing the other person from the sentence: “I went to the mall.” And “Pete went to the movies with me.” Not only do you save $10 on Gary’s movie ticket, but you can be confident you’re grammatically correct.

In short: Never begin a sentence with “Me”; and never end a sentence with “I.”

About the Author:
Rita M. Reali is an international award-winning author and longtime editor who most enjoys editing memoir, general fiction and romance, along with inspirational writing. She’s self-published five novels: Glimpse of Emerald, Diagnosis: Love, The Unintended Hero, Second Chances and Tender Mercies – the first five in the seven-volume Sheldon Family Saga. The sixth novel in the series, Brothers by Betrayal, is scheduled for an early 2024 release. Her first children’s book, The Purringest Kitty Finds His Home, is due out before Christmas. As a former disc jockey in her native Connecticut, Rita used to spend her days “talking to people who weren’t there” – a skill which transferred perfectly to her being an author. Now she talks to characters who aren’t there on “a little chunk of heaven in rural Tennessee.” Contact Rita.

The Opposite of More

Ask anyone what the opposite of “more” is and nearly everyone will reply, “Less.” But some bozo will invariably say, “Uhh… creamed corn?”

Most respondents would be correct… a lot of the time. But sometimes (more often than you’d think, actually) the answer is “fewer.”

What’s the difference? Both terms are used to denote quantities of something. But you’d use less when you’re referencing something that is measured, and fewer when speaking (or writing) about something that would get counted.

How do I know when to use which one? The rule is generally simple: If it gets measured in volume, weight or depth, use less. If it can be sorted or counted, use fewer.

Take, for example, coffee. You wouldn’t say, “The waitress gave me fewer coffee than she gave you,” because that would be silly. Besides, other patrons in the diner would snicker at you from behind their coffee mugs – and with excellent reason. Instead, you’d say, “The waitress gave me less coffee than she gave you.” Why? Because coffee, being a liquid, gets measured.

Likewise, you shouldn’t say, “We have less nails than I remember in that old coffee can in the garage”; rather, you should say, “We have fewer nails than I remember in that old coffee can in the garage.” Why? Because nails, being individual items, get counted.

Some other things that get measured (and for which you would use “less”) are snow, blood, rainfall, ink, water, cat litter, asphalt, rice, toner, heat, chocolate, gravel, beer and soda).

Countable items (for which you’d use “fewer”) include string beans, words, marbles, almonds, Hershey’s Kisses, crayons, T-shirts, bowling balls and cats.

Then again, we have the confusing things that are measurable when singular and countable when plural… things like candy vs. candies – once the kids raid your Halloween stash, you would have fewer individual candies and less candy overall.

Same goes for beer as opposed to bottles of beer. You might have less beer in your stein, but you’d have fewer bottles of beer in the fridge after your friends visit. The difference there is that with the latter example, what’s actually countable is the bottles, not the beer.

Confusing? It doesn’t have to be. Next time you find yourself pondering which opposite of more you should use, ask yourself, “Does this get counted? Or measured?” Then proceed accordingly. Oh, and consider putting a lock on that fridge.

About the Author:
Rita M. Reali is an international award-winning author and longtime editor who most enjoys editing memoir, general fiction and romance, along with inspirational writing. She’s self-published five novels: Glimpse of Emerald, Diagnosis: Love, The Unintended Hero, Second Chances and Tender Mercies – the first five in the seven-volume Sheldon Family Saga. The sixth novel in the series, Brothers by Betrayal, is scheduled for an early 2024 release. Her first children’s book, The Purringest Kitty Finds His Home, is due out before Christmas. As a former disc jockey in her native Connecticut, Rita used to spend her days “talking to people who weren’t there” – a skill which transferred perfectly to her being an author. Now she talks to characters who aren’t there on “a little chunk of heaven in rural Tennessee.” Contact Rita.

That’s What I’m Talkin’ About…

Have you ever considered the word that? No, really. Sometimes its inclusion is vital; other times, it’s considered a “glue word” in the context of a sentence – put there simply to help stick the rest of the words together.

Years ago, in rejecting my manuscript for the great American novel, a literary agent offered a beneficial tip for tightening my writing. Her advice has gone far in helping me hone my craft. And now I want to pass that helpful nugget along to you.

If you can extract the word “that” from a sentence without changing its meaning, delete it.

It’s as simple as um… er, that.

Let’s give it a whirl. Here are two sample sentences:

Fred told Sue that he was going to Topeka by train.

Fred told Sue that was the best way to travel to Topeka.

In the first sentence, “that” is used as a conjunction and, as such, is not considered critical to the sentence. If you take “that” out of the sentence, you’re left with this: “Fred told Sue he was going to Topeka by train.” It still makes perfect sense. Therefore, in this example, you may excise “that” with not so much as a second’s lost sleep tonight (or any night).

But in the second sentence… ah, the second sentence! If you perform a that-ectomy here, you’ve pretty much killed the patient by doing the equivalent of cutting out its liver. You’re left with this awkwardly limping fragment: “Fred told Sue was the best way to travel to Topeka.” Here, you need “that” – used here as a determiner to take the place of something of which Fred has already spoken (perhaps the train), or something to which he’s pointing (again, perhaps the train) – to make the sentence complete.

It’s a simple way to streamline your writing. But for goodness’ sake, don’t agonize over it in your first draft! Write your first draft as it comes. Then, when you go back to revise, take note of every “that” in your manuscript and determine which ones can go. I usually conduct a “find” in Word, review each instance of “that” and delete the unneeded ones – except in dialogue. Lots of things that would otherwise be no-nos may be overlooked in dialogue. After all, characters definitely aren’t perfect and seldom speak perfect English.

While we’re at it, let’s discuss what part of speech “that” is, anyway. It’s rather a versatile little word, when you think about it. It may be used as a determiner (“that car, not this one”); as a conjunction (“he said that this was a good soup” – the use we just eschewed); as a pronoun (“that was the dog I saw on Montague Street last week”); or as an adverb in place of so or very (“I nearly collapsed; I was just that tired!”). Just for the record, I’m in favor of anything that can replace very.

In summary, “that” is a small word, but it has multiple jobs in the grammar world. Its proper use (or omission) can make a big difference in the quality of your communication – whether you’re writing a novel, a blog post or even a memo.

What do you think about that?

About the Author:
Rita M. Reali is an international award-winning author and longtime editor who most enjoys editing memoir, general fiction and romance, along with inspirational writing. She’s self-published four novels: Glimpse of Emerald, Diagnosis: Love, The Unintended Hero and Second Chances – the first four in the seven-volume Sheldon Family Saga. Her fifth novel, Tender Mercies, comes out in June. As a former disc jockey in her native Connecticut, Rita used to spend her days “talking to people who weren’t there” – a skill which transferred perfectly to her being an author. Now she talks to characters who aren’t there on “a little chunk of heaven in rural Tennessee.” Contact Rita.

The “Royal Order” of What, Now?

Here’s something I’ve often wondered about: Why do English speakers innately grasp the natural placement of adjectives in sentences? For instance, why do we always describe a “creepy little old man” instead of an “old creepy little man” – or even an “old little creepy man” – in that precise order? And why is it some strings of adjectives get separated by commas while others don’t… like a “hideous, barbaric monster” or an “unkempt, disheveled urchin”?

These are the things that keep me awake nights… when I’m not being awakened by our left-side next-door neighbor’s rooster going off at odd hours or the right-side next-door neighbor’s yappy dogs.

Oddly enough, there’s an actual reason for this – the adjective order and the commas, not the stuff that wakes me up at night. It’s because of something called the “Royal Order of Adjectives” (not to be confused with the Loyal Order of Water Buffalo, for those of us old enough to remember watching The Flintstones). The Royal Order of Adjectives is a set of specific guidelines by which English-language sentences are structured, regarding the placement of adjectives.

Nine descriptors comprise this Royal Order. They are: determiners; observations/opinions; size; shape; age; color; origin; material; and type. Because observation/opinion precedes size, which precedes color, we’d say “creepy little old man” instead of any other configuration. And because they fall into different descriptor categories (cumulative as opposed to coordinate adjectives), they require no comma.

Conversely, strings of adjectives within the same descriptor category do get separated by commas, because they are of equal weight (for lack of a better way to describe this).

Let’s explore those nine descriptors.

1. Determiners – these specify the item being described (e.g., that, my, their)
2. Observations/opinions – subjective descriptions (e.g., crumbling, hairy, disheveled)
3. Size (e.g., medium, microscopic, gargantuan)
4. Shape – physical dimensions (e.g., round, rhombic, star-shaped)
5. Age (e.g., Art Nouveau, antique, seven-year-old)
6. Color (e.g., blonde, crimson, cerulean)
7. Origin – the item’s place of origin (e.g., Chinese, American, Tibetan)
8. Material – what the item is made of (e.g., cotton, iron, maple)
9. Qualifier – this refers to specific properties or type, and may be considered part of the name of the item being described (e.g., boudoir lamp, cellular phone, electric guitar)

Go ahead and use any number of descriptors in your writing – just be sure to put them in the proper order. You could describe “her clingy blue skirt”; “his rusted, clunky [note: You’d use a comma here because both adjectives are observation/opinion descriptors] oblong red wagon” or even “my sleek antique black European spruce grand piano.”

And now that I’m fairly certain I won’t be kept awake wondering about adjective placement, I might just get a good night’s sleep tonight. What more could I ask for?

Former Founder?

From this morning’s top-of-the-hour national news about the passing of Roger Ailes, one thing has become awkwardly evident to me: The reporters at ABC Radio have no actual understanding of the proper usage of the word “former.”

All morning, they were identifying Ailes as the “former founder and chairman of Fox News,” which made me go pawing through my utility cabinet in search of duct tape – to prevent I.C.E. (imminent cranial explosion).

I’m guessing a few folks are scratching their respective heads and wondering, “What’s wrong with that?” Well, once you’ve been established as the founder of something, that particular designation can never be taken away – so Ailes could not possibly have been the news organization’s “former founder.”

How might this have been remedied? Well, for starters, ABC News could employ writers with a more-precise grasp of the English language. Beyond that, I’d recommend phrasing the sentence so the adjective “former” modified “chairman.” The correct way to identify Ailes (who resigned last year) would be “founder and former chairman of Fox News.” His designation as former chairman of Fox News had no bearing whatsoever on his status as its founder.

On a personal note, this obvious gaffe brought back memories from my nearly ten years as board secretary for the Connecticut Authors and Publishers Association. In emails, at monthly meetings and in what came to be known as the unofficial “Blue Minutes” from those meetings, we’d often refer to founder Brian Jud as CAPA’s “former founder” – with his full understanding that we were being intentionally goofy with that title.

However, to earnestly call someone the “former founder” of anything shows a basic lack of awareness. It’s akin to referring to someone as a “former graduate” of a college (and yes, I’ve heard that phrase so often my dentist is planning to fit me for a dental guard so I don’t grind my teeth into piles of enamel dust). Either you’re a graduate of an institution or you’re not – you can’t suddenly become no longer a graduate. There’s no need for an adjective. Still, if you must use one, consider “past.”

Think I’m making too much of this whole “former” issue? Go ahead and refer to a retired member of the U.S. Marine Corps as a “former Marine.” I will assume no responsibility whatsoever for your resulting injuries.

CAPA-U 2011

This Saturday, May 7, I’ll be speaking at the eighth annual Connecticut Authors & Publishers Association professional-development day for writers. CAPA-U (short for CAPA University) will be at the Hartford Steam Boiler Conference Center, One State Street, Hartford, CT.

I’ll be part of a panel discussing what to expect when working with an editor, and how to get the most from the author-editor relationship. We’ll likely touch on word choice, style, punctuation, spelling, grammar… perhaps even the funny side of the editing process – and, of course, we’ll set aside time to answer your questions.

Your admission gets you the day-long conference, complete with a choice of fifteen different workshops, keynote address, agents’ panel and a one-on-one meeting with a literary agent to discuss your work. A delicious buffet lunch is included… as is secured, indoor parking on site. It’s an amazing opportunity to meet and talk with other authors, hear some informational and inspiring speakers – and possibly win a refund of your registration fee. Not a writer but know someone who is? A ticket to CAPA-U makes a great Mother’s Day present!

There’s still time to sign up for CAPA-U… but don’t delay; registrations are filling up fast! Hope to see you there!

Not the Write Time?

Okay, it’s been two-plus weeks since my surgery; my oncologist would get tremendously upset with me if I were to say, “since he gutted me like a fish,” – because, apparently, it’s self deprecating… so I won’t say that. It’s been fifteen days since my surgery (albeit only four since that teensy weensy oozy setback) and I keep feeling like I ought to be back to writing by now. Except that (yes I know this is a sentence fragment; hey, I’m under the influence of Percocet, leave me alone, okay?) every time I begin to think about writing, I decide it’s time to take another nap.

Well, I guess I should enjoy them while I can – the naps, that is. I mean, I seriously doubt my employers [no matter how fond they are of me] would not take kindly to me snoozing beneath my desk. Kind of evokes odd memories of George Costanza from Seinfeld, doesn’t it?

I had been hoping to rejoin the working world this coming Monday… but that depends on a number of factors:

1) whether I’m feeling sufficiently energetic after my followup appointment with the doctor that day;

2) whether my darn company-issued laptop plans to cooperate and recognize the VPN this time (hey, the ubiquitous “they” always tell us the third time’s the charm); and

3) whether the words will actually cooperate and come out to play when I call upon them – and not just spend the afternoon lollygagging about in my cranium until I threaten to coax them out with a crowbar. Okay, so I wouldn’t really do that; who in her right mind (write mind?) would use a crowbar to dislodge adjectives and prepositions? Everyone knows you’re supposed to use a small claw hammer.

What? You were expecting additional factors? Wasn’t three enough for you? I distinctly said it depended upon “a number of factors”; is three not a number?

Okay, okay… in case you find yourself in desperate need of a fourth factor, how’s this grab ya?

4) whether “Take a nap” supersedes everything else on my to-do list.

It occurs to me that each of those four factors may be boiled down, in essence, to one overarching reason: Good writing cannot be forced, cajoled or bribed. When it’s not the right time, it’s not the right time. Period.

That said, it’s probably time for another nap.

Speaking Engagement

I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything and, in case you were wondering, the session at CAPA-U went really well.

I’ve just gotten another speaking engagement. I’ll be a guest presenter at the Rocky Hill Re-employment Group on Thursday, June 18. My topic will be “Grammar 101: How Not to Blow the Interview When You Open Your Mouth.”

This idea arose from my having to sit through one too many presentations by sales professionals who should know better – folks who say things like, “Me and my partner went to a seminar last month,” or “Him and me are going to talk about red widgets…” or the dreaded, “On behalf of my colleague and myself…”

Are you sensing my frustration here? Hang on a second while I thump my head against my desk in futility.

I’ll probably also veer off a little into the need to proofread your resume carefully. After all, you don’t want to send off your resume to a potential employer only to realize later that you listed your last job as “Pubic Relations Manger.”

I may be wrong, but that kind of thing seems awfully specialized… and I’m not sure many folks are hiring mangers these days, pubic or otherwise.

All levity aside, I must admit, I’m a smidgen anxious about getting up in front of people who are really there; my background is in radio – I’m used to talking to people who aren’t there. Really! I used to spend five or six hours a day in a 10×12-foot room, talking into a microphone to people who weren’t there! Now, I could reasonably assume someone was listening (if only my mother… and Scruffy, my cat), but I had no logical way of knowing someone was actually tuned in and paying attention to what I was saying.

And now – well, I just spend my days sitting at a computer, typing words… granted, I’m building pretty things with those words, crafting all kinds of fun structural stuff and making folks go, “Gee, I really want to buy that, now that you’ve described it so nicely!”

But addressing a group of live human beings? Not so much my comfort zone.

If you speak in front of people, how do you get up there and do it? What are your tips, your suggestions, your tools of the trade that make you not want to squeak, “Eep!” and hide behind your lectern?

CAPA-U… Seven Days and Counting

Next Saturday (May 9, 2009), I’ll be taking part in an editors’ panel at CAPA University, a day-long professional-development day for writers; I’ll be part of a three-member panel of experts. This sixth annual event is sponsored by the Connecticut Authors & Publishers Association.

Some of the topics we’re sure to discuss will be word usage, spelling, grammar, punctuation, general editing and proofreading.

What are your thorniest proofreading/editing concerns? If you were to attend this panel discussion, what burning question would you most like answered or addressed?

When to use “They’re,” “their” or “there”

Question: Which sentence is correct?

“There putting they’re stuff over their.”

– or –

“They’re putting their stuff over there.”

Answer: The second one is correct.

I was going to put “Obviously” at the front of that sentence, but it’s all too clear that the answer isn’t obvious.

It seems so simple, yet it’s an issue that continually plagues everyone from middle-school students to business executives. Let’s tackle this one with a few simple examples.

Basically, if you’re attempting to replace the words “they are,” you’d use “they’re,” which is a contraction of those two words.

If you’re giving directions, that one’s easy. Just think of it this way: “I just have to put a “t” on the beginning of ‘here’ to get to ‘there.'”

And “their” is a possessive pronoun. So “their stuff” means “the stuff that belongs to them.”

With that in mind, our second sentence could be reworded thus: “They are putting the stuff that belongs to them not here, but in that place.” Or something like that.

What are your spelling bugaboos? Have you got a word you chronically misspell? Talk to us… maybe we can help you come up with a simple solution to remember the correct spelling.