Book Production

When SaskBooks asked me to contribute to their video blog for their 30th Anniversary back in 2019, I was excited to be asked to share my expertise, but I was also reluctant. I’m not a public speaker, nor do I pretend to be comfortable in the spotlight (that’s why I became an editor—to be a force for good behind the scenes!). But their team made the experience very comfortable, and I ended up having a lot of fun answering their questions about what it was like being a managing editor for University of Regina Press.

“I’m not a fan of multi-tasking.”

This is an oldie now (I look so young!), but I’m happy to have contributed something to the Saskatchewan publishing scene. Check out the short video here, and while you’re at it, see what other publishing professionals in Saskatchewan have to say on the SaskBooks YouTube channel too! Thanks for being a force for good, SaskBooks!

“I’m pretty old-school that way, I guess.”

“My advice for time management would be … get the quickest and easiest things off your plate first …and then you can focus on the bigger projects.”

Mind Your Ps and Qs

We’re probably all familiar with the expression, and from an early age – usually mom scolding us for being impolite at the dinner table, or some such scenario. But where does it come from? (Notice there are no apostrophes to mark possession. They are simple plurals. Just add s!) The origin of this very polite phrase is mired in rumour and speculation, and it seems a fanciful discussion to get us all back into the swing of things after the holidays.

The first theory, and probably the one most of us are familiar with, is that Ps and Qs come from please and thank you. When said quickly, the pronunciation is quite similar: Mind your please (Ps) and thank-yous (Qs). A slight variation on this is “please and excuse me”. Fine manners, indeed, but as the Oxford Dictionaries website points out:

This would be fine, except for the fact that ‘pleases and thank yous’, as a phrase, is not independently attested before the 20^th century. It is unlikely, therefore, that a contraction of the phrase would exist nearly 300 years before.

They are referring to the first known quotation of the expression in the Oxford English Dictionary (the standard resource for finding the etymology and history of words in the English language). It explains that in 1602 Thomas Dekker used the expression in his play The Untrussing of the Humorous Poet: “Now thou art in thy Pee and Kue, thou hast such a villanous broad backe, that I warrant th’art able to beare away any mans iestes in England.” The “Pee” here is a pea coat and the “Kue” would be a queue, another name for a ponytail. These were the normal fashion of sailors at that time. Sound good? Well, Oxford Dictionaries doesn’t think so. They say:

While it is conceivable that the P here could refer to the sailor’s garment, there seems to be no connection with clothing in any of the other senses. When you add the fact that queue is attested considerably later, this explanation seems less and less likely.

Let’s write that one off then. So what other quality theories are out there? World Wide Words says this:

To confuse the matter somewhat, we also have examples of a closely similar expression, P and Q or pee and kew. This was seventeenth-century slang and meant “highest quality”… The Oxford English Dictionary has a citation from Rowlands’ Knave of Harts of 1612: “Bring in a quart of Maligo, right true: And looke, you Rogue, that it be Pee and Kew.” Nobody is really sure what either P or Q stood for. To say they’re the initials of “Prime Quality” seems to be folk etymology, because surely that would make “PQ” rather than “P and Q”.

There is no shortage on theories here! Wikipedia offers an explanation that takes us back to Medieval Latin, and the proper reading of the sacred texts:

…the letters “p” and “q” had various scribal abbreviation symbols for different shortened words. For example, “q” with a dot over it was the abbreviation for quod while “p” with a line through the tail of the letter was the symbol for per. Minding that these abbreviations were interpreted accurately (i.e. that one read “per” as opposed to “post” or “pro”) would ensure the correct reading of the text.

Or perhaps Latin isn’t your thing. What about French? The Phrase Finder tells us that French dancing masters would have instructed their charges to mind their pieds (feet) and queues (wigs) while dancing. Unfortunately, though, “there’s no reason to suppose it is from France and no version of the phrase exists in French.” Quelle dommage.

So where does that leave us? We are getting close, I think, to discovering the true origin of this enigmatic phrase (or at least the one that suits me best!). If you love typesetting and publishing like I do, you’ll appreciate why this next theory is No. 2 on my list of favourites. It has to do with the printing press! Wikipedia explains:

Printers placed individual letters on a frame to print a page of text. The letters were reversed, making it easy to mistake lowercase ps and qs in setting the type and were fined for every spelling mistake, hence the personal financial importance of accuracy.

That makes a lot of sense to me, but Wikipedia has one more theory for being mindful of your Ps and Qs that speaks to me even more. For those of you who know me, it will come as no surprise that my No. 1 favourite theory comes directly from English pubs and taverns from the 17^th century:

Bartenders would keep a watch on the alcohol consumption of the patrons, keeping an eye on the pints and quarts that were consumed. As a reminder to the patrons, the bartender would recommend they “mind their Ps and Qs”. This may also have been a reminder to bartenders not to confuse the two units, written as “p” and “q” on the tally slate.

Oh, how I love beer. After all this, I wouldn’t mind some Ps and Qs right now! How about you?

Isn’t It Ironic?

“I can’t, um, really define irony, but I know when I see it!” –Winona Ryder’s character, Lelaina Pierce, in Reality Bites (1994)

Like Lelaina Pierce, we all have a sense of what irony is, but perhaps we’ve forgotten our grade 10 English lessons and can’t quite remember how to define it. We know it usually makes us laugh or roll our eyes and that it’s somehow related to sarcasm, but beyond that, things get a little fuzzy. In other words, we know it when we see it.

At least, we think we do. But it is surprising how many of us aren’t actually sure, and instead, many people tend to use it in the following way:

First Person: “I was running late for work today when I had a really important meeting, and got stopped by a damn train!”
Second Person: “Ah, the irony.”

You aren’t alone if you’re left scratching your head, but I’m afraid that this is not irony. How do I know? Let’s start with the definition in Merriam-Websters and the Oxford English Dictionary to clear up our confusion.

Merriam-Websters:

: the use of words that mean the opposite of what you really think especially in order to be funny
: a situation that is strange or funny because things happen in a way that seems to be the opposite of what you expected

Oxford English:

The expression of one’s meaning by using language that normally signifies the opposite, typically for humorous or emphatic effect:‘Don’t go overboard with the gratitude,’ he rejoined with heavy irony.

Notice that I highlighted the word opposite in each of these definitions. The real key to spotting irony is to find that unexpected reversal in a situation or statement. In the train example above, there is nothing opposite to our expectations. The train wasn’t doing anything a train doesn’t normally do. It was just bad luck.

But now that we have the definition, let’s see if we can recognize irony when we see it. Take Alanis Morissette’s song “Ironic”, for example (Sorry, but a conversation about irony simply isn’t complete without a stab at Alanis. If I didn’t mention her, I would be rather poor company to every other blog post and website discussion on this topic):

It’s like rain on your wedding day ⇒  Ironic? No. There is no reversal of expectations.
It’s a free ride when you’ve already paid  ⇒  Ironic? No. It’s just bad luck.
It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take  ⇒  Ironic? Again, no irony there.
Who would’ve thought … it figures

The Blue Book of Grammar and Punctuation explains what went so terribly wrong with that catchy song:

When something is ironic, it has a grimly humorous or paradoxical twist, as if the universe were playing a wicked practical joke. Thus, it is ironic if a speeding car crashes into a “drive safely” sign, or if someone named Joe Friendly turns out to be a serial killer …. Do not use irony or ironic to describe a simple coincidence.

It’s unfortunate that Alanis’s lyrics in “Ironic” are decidedly not ironic, but what she has described are merely coincidental circumstances to someone’s detriment. I guess if you find someone else’s misfortune funny, you might find humour in those situations, but no irony, I’m afraid. There seems to be so much confusion about this concept that websites are now devoted to the debate. IsItIronic.com allows people to post their questions about irony and readers then vote as to whether they think it is ironic or not. While I’m not sure popular vote really accounts for much when you don’t know who your readers are or their experience in parsing ironic situations, but it makes for some humorous reading. For example:

Is it ironic that I can’t go to church because I have a theology test to study for?
Reader’s Verdict: 95% NOT IRONIC; 5% IRONIC. Final Verdict: NOT IRONIC.

What do you think? Is there irony hiding in there? One astute reader points out that it depends on how the situation is framed:

“I can’t go to church because I have a theology exam to study for” isn’t ironic–because there is no appearance clearly contraposed to the reality. But if the sentence were “I chose to study for my theology exam rather than go to church,” I think there clearly is a difference between the appearance (I am a devout person who values religious practice) and the reality (I am willing to forego religious practice in the pursuit of good grades in my religious studies program). ^[1]

I completely agree. Lots of things aren’t ironic until we set them within the right parameters. Rain on your wedding day is just bad luck, unless you planned your wedding to be in the desert to avoid the chance of rain. I mean, you would never expect rain in the desert, and then the one day it rains all year … well, that’s ironic. You see what I mean? Poor Alanis just didn’t have enough room in each stanza to fully explain what made her lyrics ironic*. She’s just misunderstood.

Now sarcasm is a different beast altogether! I even love the etymology of the word: from the Greek sarkasmos, meaning “to tear flesh, bite the lip in rage, sneer” (according to the Oxford English Dictionary). Ouch! Here are some examples:

Please, keep talking. I always yawn when I am interested.

I refuse to engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed person.

If I want to hear the pitter patter of little feet, I’ll put shoes on my cats.

Does your train of thought have a caboose?

Although sarcasm is considered verbal irony, one of the three main types of irony**, not all verbal irony is sarcastic. But is all sarcasm ironic? The examples above are obviously sarcastic, but I don’t consider them particularly ironic, if we stick to the dictionary definitions of irony. There is no reversal of expectations, just biting tone of voice and the intent to ridicule. Not a problem, says the Sarcasm Society, because verbal irony isn’t limited to oppositeness. “It can also be used to over-emphasize, embellish or make light of an idea or circumstance.” So irony and sarcasm can go hand in hand. Here are some examples taken from sarcasmsociety.com:

“I wish we were better strangers.”

“You have delighted us long enough.” –Jane Austen

“I am not young enough to know everything.” –Oscar Wilde

“He was happily married – but his wife wasn’t.” –Victor Borge

“He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary.” –William Faulkner

“Well, that was fun!”

So, I’m sure I’ve managed to illuminate my readers on the subtleties of irony (Not!) But I do hope I’ve managed to waste a few moments of your busy day making you smile. In case I’ve failed to manage that, I’d like to draw your attention to one last, related topic: Air Quotes.

Air quotes, also called “finger quotes” or “ersatz quotes” are virtual quotation marks formed in the air with one’s fingers when speaking…. Air quotes are often used to express satire, sarcasm, irony or euphemism, among others, and are analogous to scare quotes in print. ^[2]

Here are some links to some wonderfully misused air quotes that will surely bring joy to your sarcastic heart.

____________________________

[1] http://www.dailywritingtips.com/what-is-irony-with-examples/

[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Air_quotes

*Check out this attempt on Huffington Post to take Alanis’s song and make it ironic: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/07/11/its-finally-ironic_n_3580371.html

**The three types of irony are verbal, situational and dramatic, but dramatic irony only occurs in works of art, such as movies, books, poems and plays, so we aren’t really touching on that in this post. For more examples and some clarity, check out this fun infographic from the artists/grammar geeks at The Oatmeal.

Are We Literally Going to Hell in a Handbasket?

As I often do when contemplating the beginning of a new blog post, I looked to The Oatmeal for some inspiring words of wisdom. They are literally the best medicine for the Monday blues.

If you are one of the few who question (or possibly abhor) my usage of the word literally in the previous sentence, then prepare yourself for some major irritation. I just learned that we’ve been using the word incorrectly for, like, ever.

Well, not literally. In fact, only recently. To many of us, literally means free from exaggeration or embellishment, actually. It is usually contrasted with the word figuratively, as in a figure of speech. He’s a sailor who knows his ropes, literally and figuratively. But recently, the dictionary gods have decided to play a mean little trick on us. Literally can now also be used to mean figuratively.

Dana Coleman of the Salon website says this:

Thanks in part to the overuse of “literally,” Merriam-Webster says the word can now mean its exact opposite. Huh? Webster’s first definition of literally is, “in a literal sense or matter; actually.” Its second definition is, “in effect; virtually.” In addressing this seeming contradiction, its authors comment:

“Since some people take sense 2 to be the opposition of sense 1, it has been frequently criticized as a misuse. Instead, the use is pure hyperbole intended to gain emphasis, but it often appears in contexts where no additional emphasis is necessary.”

So it’s okay to use literally to mean figuratively as long as you really, really, really need to do so? Hmph.

The Guardian took their exasperation a little further:

It’s happened. Literally the most misused word in the language has officially changed definition….”Literally”, you see, in its development from knock-kneed, single-purpose utterance, to swan-like dual-purpose term, has reached that awkward stage. It is neither one nor the other, and it can’t do anything right.

It does seem rather, I dunno, capricious. Just because some people couldn’t get the hang of using a simple term correctly, doesn’t seem reason enough to change the rules completely. What about the integrity of the English language?

Caroline Chin from BooksonFirst.com was flabbergasted when she heard someone on public radio say, “Hearing that literally struck terror in my heart.” She tried to think of what to use instead, but soon realized she couldn’t:

No one says, “Hearing that figuratively struck terror in my heart.” No, he would say, “Hearing that struck terror in my heart.” No “literally” and no “figuratively,” because “struck terror in my heart” is already a figure of speech. It suddenly struck me (figuratively): “Literally” is being used as emphasis. It really, really, really did strike terror in my heart — no ifs, ands or buts about it….And, I thought, welcome to the 21st century, where language along with civil society has been going to hell in a handbasket for over twenty centuries, while those advocates of living language say, “Fuhgeddaboudit.”

Being a former student of linguistics, I am an advocate of living language (meaning that the only constant you can rely on with language is that it is going to change and develop with each new generation or group of speakers) but I can’t quite “fuhgeddaboudit.” I prefer descriptivism (observing and describing actual language use) to prescriptivism (setting out hard-and-fast rules for how the language ought to be), but I am not in favor of lazy language usage that causes confusion for its speakers. Both the term literally and its root, literal, seemed quite obvious and useful to me. Honest, even. And figures of speech seemed to work smoothly on their own, helping speakers express their ideas through metaphor. What possible purpose could there be for changing the meaning of a fully functioning word to its exact opposite?

There isn’t one. The word has not taken on a better, more effective use for communication; it’s just a fad. A trend. A slang usage. That in itself is not surprising. Language is always being used and changed for fun. What is surprising is that the dictionaries and the respected institutions behind them, decided to jump on that bandwagon. Perhaps the about-face of the word literally is an indicator of lowered standards and expectations in academics, or perhaps it reflects the increased consumerism and use of shock-value marketing in western society. Everything has to be bigger and better, more bang for your buck. “It’s raining cats and dogs out there!” is no longer strong enough to describe a downpour. No! Instead, we need to hyperbolize an already hyperbolic figure of speech and say, “It’s literally raining cats and dogs out there!”

And while my gut tells me to argue, my dictionary says, Don’t bother. It’s perfectly acceptable to say that cats and dogs are literally falling from the sky.

I guess all I can do is blame it on climate change.

Miss Spellings and Miss Used Words Part 2

As promised, here is the continuation of my last post. I’ve attempted to explain the confusion that arises with some of the most common errors. There is no shortage of words to choose from!

1. Misused words

a, an – Okay, let’s get this straight once and for all. We all know to use a when the following word starts with a consonant and an when the following word starts with a vowel, but what we should really say is when the following word starts with a vowel sound or a consonant sound. 

cat           [k] ⇒ a cat
apple     [a] ⇒ an apple

Easy enough. But what about these:

unit          [y] ⇒ a unit
uncle       [uh] ⇒ an uncle
historic  [h] ⇒ a historic (unless you pronounce it “istoric”)
hour        [ow] ⇒ an hour

Or depending on your specific pronunciation:

herb          [h] ⇒ a herb
or                [er] ⇒ an herb

among, between – between you and me, but among the three of us. The rule: between two, among more than two. That’s it! (And if you are wondering why it’s between you and me not between you and I, see this previous post.)

and/or – Strunk and White call this “A device, or shortcut, that damages a sentence and often leads to confusion or ambiguity.” ^[1] They suggest using the term that best clarifies the sentence. A few solutions present themselves:

You can choose cake, pie and/or brownies. You can choose cake and/or pie. line

⇒ ⇒ ⇒

You can choose cake, pie or brownies. You can choose cake or pie or both. You can choose either cake or pie.

That being said, it is in the dictionary as an acceptable English conjunction. I’m not convinced that it causes confusion for most people, but I definitely think it lacks style. I would use it sparingly or avoid it altogether.

because, since – These conjunctions can be used interchangeably when showing a causal relationship, although because is often considered a little stronger. ^[2] The confusion comes from the two meanings of since, both causal and temporal. When the sentence is ambiguous, because is preferred.

Ambiguous: Since the judge called a recess, counsel headed outside for a cigarette.
Causal: Because the judge called a recess, counsel headed outside for a cigarette.
Temporal: Since the moment the judge called a recess, counsel has been outside for a cigarette.

compared to, compared with – “To compare to is to point out or imply resemblances between objects regarded as essentially of a different order; to compare with is mainly to point out the differences between objects regarded as essentially of the same order. Thus, life has been compared to a pilgrimage, to a drama, to a battle; Congress may be compared with the British Parliament. Paris has been compared to ancient Athens; it may be compared with modern London.” ^[3]

couple (of) – couple (n): two people or things that are together; a couple of (adj phrase): an indefinite small number

A couple of days ago, he saw a couple walking hand in hand.

He spent a couple of bucks on a coffee. (not a couple bucks)

different from, different than – Different from is the standard phrase, according to all sources I’ve checked. Different than is more common in America than Britain, but as The Blue Book of Grammar and Punctuation points out, “…many fine writers have had no problem steering clear of different than for their entire careers.” ^[4]

disinterested, uninterested – “You can be both uninterested and disinterested, or one but not the other. Disinterested means ‘impartial’; uninterested means ‘unconcerned’ or ‘apathetic.’ Many would interpret The judge was disinterested to mean that the judge didn’t care. But the sentence actually means that the judge was unbiased. Huge difference there. Would you rather a have a judge who’s fair or one who wants to go home?” ^[5]

fewer, less – “If you can count the commodity, less will be wrong. You have less justification, but fewer reasons.” ^[6]

guilty, liable – “In the law, guilty specifically refers to having been found by a jury to have committed a crime. The term guilty is properly used only in the criminal context. By contrast, liable refers to the condition of being legally responsible or obligated to do or refrain from doing something.

• The jury found the defendant guilty as charged of first-degree murder.
• If my dog bites someone, I will be liable for the person’s medical bills.” ^[7]

infer, imply – “Infer means to deduce or to draw a conclusion. Imply means to suggest or hint…

• The jury could infer from Mr. Smith’s testimony that he knew the gun was loaded.
• Mr. Smith’s testimony implied that he knew the gun was loaded.” ^[8]

irregardless – “This nonsense word results from confusing and combining regardless and irrespective. If people would just think about it, what’s that silly ir- doing there?” says The Blue Book. “In technical terms, ir- is an initial negative particle. So if irregardless means anything, it means ‘not regardless’ when the person using it is trying to say the exact opposite.” ^[9]

unique – without like or equal; the only one

Strunk and White point out that if something is the only one, there can be no degrees of uniqueness. The Blue Book explains further, “Unique belongs to a group of words called absolutes or incomparables. Examples include dead, equal, essential, eternal, opposite, supreme. Such words resist being modified. Modifiers like more, most, absolutely, rather, and very either strip them of their strength or result in foolishness.” ^[10]

And a few fun and misused phrases:

bated breath (not baited breath) – to hold one’s breath; a variant of abated, meaning lessened in intensity or restrained

champing at the bit (not chomping at the bit) – to show impatience; champ means to bite or chew noisily; a bit is the part of a horse’s harness that goes in its mouth;

couldn’t care less (not could care less) – If you couldn’t care less, then you are completely uninterested in something. If you could care less, then you still have some interest.

for all intents and purposes (not for all intensive purposes) – Confession: this one came as a surprise when I first started copyediting, having never seen this expression written before. If you’d asked, I couldn’t have explained what an intensive purpose would be, but cut me some slack; this is the language where you might find one in the same, a blessing in the skies, and a doggy-dog world.

hold one’s peace, but speak one’s piece – easily confused, but sometimes we just need to give someone a piece of our mind before we can have peace of mind.

There are so many of these, I could go on forever.

 2. Redundancies

It is my personal opinion that completelyeradicating redundancies will vastlyimprove your writing. I will warn you in advance that my ultimate goal is to make each and every one of you aware of these issues so you can avoid making unintentional mistakes. Don’t make me repeat it again. Here are a few more, just for fun!

all-time record
basic necessities
close proximity
depreciate in value
enclosed herein
first and foremost
grow in size
habitual custom
important essentials
joint collaboration
knowledgeable experts
local residents
merge together
natural instinct
originally created
plan ahead
revert back
still persists
true facts
unexpected emergency
visible to the eye
whether or not

As I mentioned in Part 1 of this post, I have no illusions that I will ever be able to remember all of these distinctions, but my job as a copyeditor is to recognize the problem words and consult with the authorities to make sure they are spelled correctly or are being used properly. Now I hope we are all a little more aware of these potential pitfalls.

I would love to hear from our readers if there are any favourites that I’ve missed!

 

_____________________

[1] Strunk and White, The Elements of Style, 4th ed (Boston: Pearson, 2000) 40
[2] Einsohn, Amy. The Copyeditor’s Handbook (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2006) 374
[3] Strunk and White, The Elements of Style, 43
[4] Straus, Jane, The Blue Book of Grammar and Punctuation, 11th ed (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2014) 79
[5] Straus, Jane, The Blue Book of Grammar and Punctuation, 80
[6] Straus, Jane, The Blue Book of Grammar and Punctuation, 84
[7] Vanwinkle, Jessie, “Commonly Confused and Misused Words in Legal Writing”, online: https://suite.io/jessie-vanwinkle/55yt2as.
[8] Vanwinkle, Jessie, “Commonly Confused and Misused Words in Legal Writing”
[9] Straus, Jane, The Blue Book of Grammar and Punctuation, 93
[10] Straus, Jane, The Blue Book of Grammar and Punctuation, 119

Miss Spellings and Miss Used Words Part 1

Let’s begin with this tasty morsel by Margo Roark ^[1]:

Eye halve a spelling checker
It came with my pea sea
It plainly marques for my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.

Eye strike a key and type a word
And weight four it to say
Weather eye am wrong oar write
It shows me strait a weigh.

As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee fore two long
And eye can put the error rite
It’s rare lea ever wrong.

Eye have run this poem threw it
Eye am shore your pleased two no
It’s letter perfect awl the weigh
My checker tolled me sew.

How do I organise a post about a topic as big as misspellings and misused words in English without crippling myself with doubt about misusing a word in it? I could try to be pithy and write an entire post in the format of the poem above and see if my readers could decipher it. But that sounds like a lot more effort than I want to expend, and a lot more creative than I feel. Still, the mass confusion continues, so I thought it might be fun to add my voice to this comedy of errors.

In every grammar reference book and website I’ve consulted, there are lists and lists of words that are “commonly misused” for various reasons. Most of these materials lay out long alphabetical lists that you can search, much like a dictionary, but I find that method unhelpful unless you know exactly which word you are looking up. I know from experience that I will never internalize all the correct spellings and uses of the million or so words that exist in the English language ^[2], so what I need are categories of words to watch for. And once again I lean on my Bible, Amy Einsohn’s The Copyeditor’s Handbook.

In the chapter “Spelling and Hyphenation”, she calls attention to the gaps left by spellcheckers:

…spellcheckers do not distinguish between homophones (principal and principle), do not account for spellings determined by usage (resume and résumé), and may allow variant spellings (catalog and catalogue) in the same document. And, of course, spellcheckers do not highlight a misspelled word if the misspelling is itself a word (from and form).

From this quote, I’ve collected a number of great categories to start with: homophones, variant spellings, and misused words and phrases. To this list, I will add redundancies, which continually plague our otherwise concise writing. Considering the amount of material I had to choose from, I’ve split this topic into two posts, Homophones and Variants in Part 1, and Misused Words and Phrases along with Redundancies in Part 2. Enjoy!

Part 1

1. Homophones (and other similar-sounding words)

In case we’ve forgotten, homophones are words that sound the same but differ in meaning (caret, carrot, karat). A subcategory of homophones are homonyms, words that share the same spelling and pronunciation but that have different meanings (rose, the flower, and rose, the past tense of rise). All homonyms are homophones, but not all homophones are homonyms. I’ve added a few words that aren’t exactly homophones, but are similar enough to cause confusion.

accept (v), except (prep)	Except for part two, I accept the terms of the agreement.
adverse (adj), averse (adj)	Because he enjoyed a challenge, he was not averse to the adverse conditions he was facing.
advice (n), advise (v)	She tried to advise her client, but her advice fell on deaf ears.
affect (v), effect (n or v)	The advice affected her client, but the effect was not what she had predicted. The protesters were trying to effect a change to the policy.
allude (v), elude (v)	The lawyer alluded to a previous witness’s testimony without directly naming the witness. The drug dealer eluded the police vehicle by turning down a back alley.
ascent (n), assent (n or v)	The royal assent was given to the new legislation. His ascent up the corporate ladder was not without personal sacrifice.
assure (v), ensure (v), insure (v)	The counsellor assured his client that she would have time to ensure that her property was insured before the hearing.
cite (v), sight (n), site (n)	Lawyers must learn to cite their sources correctly. He caught sight of the historical site from the bus window.
compliment (n or v), complement (n or v)	She gave her mother a compliment on her new hairstyle. Her scarf complemented the colour of her suit.
council (councillor), counsel (counsellor)	The council members gathered in the boardroom. She called her legal counsel to discuss the progress of her case.
dependant (n), dependent (adj)	The woman’s dependants were all dependent on her single income.
elicit (v), illicit (adj)	In the course of the trial, the lawyer elicited a confession of the illicit dealings of the accused.
farther (physical distance), further (time or quantity)	He pushed his chair farther away from the table. She needed to do further research into the topic.
its (possessive pronoun), it’s (contraction of it is)	It’s impressive to see how the chimpanzee takes care of its young.
principal (n), principle (n or adj)	The principal’s principle rule of thumb was to follow the principle of fairness.
wave (v), waive (v)	The accused waved to his family as he entered the courtroom. The accused waived her right to counsel when she refused to call a lawyer.

2. Variant Spellings

For Canadian spelling, we find ourselves caught between two superpowers: British English and American English. The Canadian Style recommends using the Gage Canadian Dictionary, which it says reflects most federal government departments and agencies, more so than the two big guns: Oxford (British) or Merriam-Websters (American). As Canadians, I feel we are certainly aware of this dichotomy, but that doesn’t mean we are any less confused by it! When in doubt, check your dictionary! Here is a sample of the big differences (British on the left, American on the right). Canadian spelling usually leans toward the British variants.

Nouns ce/se	Nouns re/er	Verbs single l/double ll
defence, defense offence, offense pretence, pretense	centre, center metre, meter theatre, theater	instil, instill fulfil, fulfill enrol, enroll

Nouns our/or	Verbs ise/ize	Past tense verbs double ll/single l
behaviour, behavior colour, color favour, favor neighbour, neighbor	civilise, civilize organise, organize specialise/specialize	counselled, counseled labelled, labeled travelled, traveled

Other variants that have developed over time and are not considered wrong in any way. They represent preferences expressed by specific publishers or others, and many have developed into industry standard spellings, ultimately causing the others to be less used and appear more like relics. Here are a few examples from Einsohn ^[3] (I’ve put my own preferences on the left and italicized any that are considered industry standard):

acknowledgment afterward, backward, forward, toward amid, among catalogue grey judgment mustache resume*

acknowledgement afterwards, backwards, forwards, towards amidst, amongst catalog gray judgement moustache résumé

*I prefer resume without the accents because I find they create a cluttered look if the word is used too frequently in a paragraph. Besides that, the context will always clarify the pronunciation between the noun and the verb of this homograph (words that are spelled the same but have different meanings or pronunciations), much like other pairs of this type.

After the interruption, she was ready to resume composing her resume.
The record label chose to record the band’s first album.
She was content to find the content of her manuscript unchanged.

In the next post, we’ll continue this theme and look at all those tricky misused words that we can’t keep straight. Stay tuned!

_______________________

[1] The English Spelling Society, “Poems showing the absurdities of English spelling” online. Accessed June 20, 2014. http://www.spellingsociety.org/news/media/poems.php
[2] Global Language Monitor http://www.languagemonitor.com/number-of-words/number-of-words-in-the-english-language-1008879/
[3] Einsohn, Amy, The Copyeditor’s Handbook, 125

Me, Myself and I

In a previous post, “You and I vs. You and Me”, I noted the following: “Personal pronouns come in four varieties: subjective, objective, possessive and reflexive. In first person, that would be I, me, mine and myself, respectively.” In that post, we looked at subjective and objective personal pronouns. I then received a request from a reader to expand on the proper use of reflexive pronouns, and I am more than happy to oblige! Thanks for the request.

Let’s start with Chicago Manual of Style (CMS), a guide I refer to a lot! It takes us a step back, to look at the basic properties of pronouns in general, and leads us to a couple of important concepts that relate directly to reflexives. “A pronoun has four properties: number, person, gender, and case… A pronoun must agree with its antecedent in number, person, and gender.”^[1]

Let’s outline these four properties a little more clearly with a sample of the four types of personal pronouns stated above:

Pronoun                         number, person, gender, case

I                                          singular, first person, gender neutral, subjective
She                                   singular, third person, feminine, subjective
Him                                  singular, third person, masculine, objective
Us                                     plural, first person, gender neutral, objective
Myself                             singular, first person, gender neutral, reflexive
Yourselves                    plural, second person, gender neutral, reflexive
Its                                     singular, third person, gender neutral, possessive
Theirs                             plural, third person, gender neutral, possessive

Hopefully we are all familiar with number, person and gender; case is likely less familiar, but as we can see, it involves the function of those pronouns as subject, object, reflexive or possessive within a sentence. This concept of function is an important one for understanding reflexives.

The second important concept is that all pronouns need an antecedent. Like its synonym precedent, an antecedent is something that comes before something else. In the grammatical sense, the antecedent is a word or phrase that precedes another word that represents it (sometimes it comes in the same sentence or sometimes it has been stated earlier and is understood without being repeated). And that’s where our pronouns come into play – we use them to keep from repeating the same words in the same sentence (in fact, I just used the word them to represent the antecedent pronoun! Did you notice?) Let’s break it down:

Susie saw Matt at the window and waved to Matt.

This is what the world would look like if we didn’t use pronouns! Sounds a little redundant, right? So we replace the second Matt with a pronoun:

Susie saw Matt at the window and waved to him.

Suzie = subject noun of the sentence
Matt = the direct object noun and also the antecedent for the pronoun him
him = the pronoun representing the antecedent Matt

In this example, just as CMS suggests, the pronoun must agree with the antecedent in number, person and gender. Matt is singular, third person and male, as is the pronoun him (our chart above confirms that) Notice, too, that they also both fill the role of object – Matt in the placement of it as the direct object of the verb, and him because of its form as an objective pronoun (rather than he or his or himself).

So far so good. Let’s try a more complicated example:

Justice Jones reviewed the charges against the accused and sentenced him to community service.

In this example, we can spot the pronoun him with no problem, but what is the antecedent? Well, there are two nouns that come before, Justice Jones or the accused (the charges are not a person and cannot be replaced by him). So let’s replace the pronoun with the two possibilities and see what happens:

Justice Jones reviewed the charges against the accused and sentenced Justice Jones to community service.

Justice Jones reviewed the charges against the accused and sentenced the accused to community service.

As speakers of English, we somehow knew that Justice Jones couldn’t be replaced by him. But if we break it down, the rules of agreement support that conclusion: the pronoun him is singular, third person and masculine, and so is the accused*. Justice Jones is also singular, third person and gender neutral (which means Justice Jones can swing either way!), so it is more than just agreement that convinces us that Justice Jones is not the antecedent to him. We know the antecedent and pronoun must refer to the same person or thing, and in order for that to be the case here, a specific change would need to be made:

Justice Jones sentenced him to community service.
Justice Jones sentenced himself to community service.

The second sentence is called reflexive.

Let’s get this straight:

Non-reflexive (subject ≠ object)	Reflexive (subject = object)
I saw you at the hearing.	I saw myself in the mirror.
Justice Jones sent him the judgment.	Justice Jones sent himself the judgment.
We defended the victims.	We defended ourselves.
The accused blamed her.	The accused blamed herself.

The difference may seem so obvious, but what about something like this^[2]:

The staff and myself thank you for your contribution.
Deliver the equipment to my partner or myself.

We hear constructions like this all the time and maybe they’ve given us pause – or not! But now that we’ve discussed the basic principles of pronouns, perhaps you noticed that there are a couple of problems here. In the first example, we see a reflexive pronoun being used as a subject. Talk about a no-no! In the second sentence, the reflexive pronoun is correctly being used as an object, but where is its antecedent subject? Remember, reflexives need the subject and the object to be the same person, and they need to appear in the same sentence or it just isn’t a reflexive:

The staff and I thank you for your contribution (I because it is part of the subject)
Deliver the equipment to my partner or me (me because it is part of the object)

Now that we all have the hang of it, I feel that I need to mention that there is one other construction that uses the reflexive pronoun but isn’t a true reflexive. They are called intensive pronouns. Since we are all experts in pronouns, we shouldn’t have any trouble spotting the difference:

Justice Jones sent himself the judgment.
Justice Jones sent the judgment himself.

Justice Jones = subject noun in both sentences
the judgment = direct object noun (the thing being sent) in both sentences
himself = indirect object pronoun (the receiver of the direct object) in the first sentence
intensive pronoun in the second sentence (not the receiver of the object)

Himself in the second case intensifies the subject of the sentence. We could rewrite it to be:

Justice Jones himself sent the judgment.

 

*As an aside: I’m not being sexist here. The accused is technically gender neutral and could most certainly be female, but it is the pronoun him that dictates the gender in this sentence. The third person singular pronouns he, she, him, her, his, hers, himself and herself all do their best to relieve the ambiguity of sentences overwhelmed by the gender neutrality inherent in English! We will touch on this again when we come to possessive pronouns.

 

^[1] “5.30 Four properties of pronouns” The Chicago Manual of Style, 16^th ed (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2010) online: http://www.chicagomanualofstyle.org/home.html

^[2] “ 5.49 Reflexive and intensive pronouns” The Chicago Manual of Style, 16^th ed (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2010) online: http://www.chicagomanualofstyle.org/home.html

You and I vs. You and Me

There you are, listening to your favourite Lady Gaga album (just bear with me), and you hear her sing:

Something, something about this place
Something ’bout lonely nights and my lipstick on your face
Something, something about my cool Nebraska guy
Yeah, something about, baby, you and I

(Lady Gaga, “You and I”)

And if Lady Gaga is singing it, it must be correct, right? So we perpetuate it, and eventually it sounds correct. Pretty soon we’re saying things like “Between you and I”:

Not even the Gods above
Can separate the two of us.
No, nothing can come between
You and I.

(One Direction, “You and I”)

Does this not make other people cringe when they hear it? And I don’t necessarily mean the music (I leave that to personal taste), but do these famous people not have a single person in their crew to tell them that their songs are INCORRECT? What are their editors doing? We have let all of our standards go down the drain. All right, Lady Gaga’s had to rhyme. I’ll give her a little freedom for artistic expression, but One Direction had no constraints. They just plain got it wrong.

And I’m not alone in this opinion. One irate blogger had this to say:

Perhaps it’s the Internet, or reality TV, or just a marked increase in people talking about themselves, but “and I” has all but massacred poor “and me.” … Somewhere along the line, whether from schoolroom traumas or Real Housewives, some folks got the impression that the regal-sounding “and I” is right in every case and that slovenly “and me” must never be said under any circumstances. Friends, it just isn’t true.^[1]

So how do I know that they are using it wrong? What are the rules exactly?

Well, English is a language that uses the sentence structure of Subject Verb Object (SVO). For example: Harry met Sally. Harry is the subject doing the action, met is the action verb, and Sally is the passive object of the action. As we all know, whether consciously or not, personal pronouns can replace proper nouns in a sentence. Personal pronouns come in four varieties: subjective, objective, possessive and reflexive. In first person, that would be I, me, mine and myself, respectively. For this post, we are dealing only with the subjective and the objective pronouns. More on possessive and reflexive pronouns to come!

The Oxford Dictionary grammar site does a great job of explaining further:

The two personal pronouns I and me are often used wrongly, usually in sentences in which I is being used with another noun. Here are some tips to help you get it right:

Use the pronoun I, along with other subjective pronouns such as we, he, she, you, and they, when the pronoun is the subject of a verb:

He went to bed.

We waited for the bus.

Clare and I are going for a coffee.

In the last example, the pronoun I, together with the proper noun Clare, forms the subject of the sentence, so you need to use I rather than me.

Use the pronoun me, along with other objective pronouns such as us, him, her, you, and them, when the pronoun is the object of a verb:

Danny thanked them.

The dog followed John and me to the door.

That seems rather simple. Every day, a hundred times a day, we have no problem forming the correct subjective and objective forms. But we have become numb to the mistaken uses of I and me. Mostly because we don’t really think about grammar in our own language. We say what we hear around us and it just sounds right. Unfortunately sometimes what sounds right is the result of confusing similarities in our language. For example, the pronoun you is the same in both subjective and objective case, so that leads us to use other pronouns in the same way. We might be able to hear that You and me went to the store sounds a little strange, but the fact that The dog followed you and I to the store has lost that same strangeness stems from overuse of the phrase you and I – possibly, as the irate blogger suggested above, because of the perception that you and me sounds slovenly or that you and I sounds more regal.

Whatever the reason, this is such a common error that the Government of Canada has posted a tip page about it on their Public Works and Government Services Canada website. They lay it out this way:

To help you choose between the phrases you and I and you and me, try the following substitutions:

If you can substitute the pronoun we, use you and I.	If you can substitute the pronoun us, use you and me.
You and I (we) should get together for dinner next week. Maxine is wittier than you and I (we) are.	Dylan has not written to you and me (us) since he left town. Maxine is wittier than you and me (us).

And for Pete’s sake don’t mix other subject and object pronouns together! Eek! We do not live in a Dr. Seuss book after all!

I don’t want to hear

him and I
or
she and me!

They and us
or
her and we!

 

And just like mom used to say – Think before you speak!

 

^[1] “Please Stop Saying ‘and I’ All the Damn Time” by Stacey Grenrock Woods, Esquire Magazine online. Posted on August 22, 2013. <http://www.esquire.com/blogs/culture/and-i-misuse-grammar>

 

Oxford Comma Wars

“I don’t see how you can write anything of value if you don’t offend someone.”  ― Marvin Harris (1927–2001), American Anthropologist

We are such suckers for controversy. Is it our frustration at the lack of control over others’ freedom of thought that comes bubbling to the surface whenever we hear something that doesn’t fit into our own personal black-and-white idea of the world? Why do we have such intense feelings about often arbitrary ideas? Is it that someone else’s opinion somehow offends our sense of self? I’m at a loss to explain it, but I do know that the so-called Oxford comma is one such debate that gets the blood boiling!

The serial comma, often referred to as the Oxford comma or the Harvard comma because of its inclusion in these two respected style guides, is the comma that falls before the and or or in a list or series of items. A wonderful blog post for The Economist entitled “Oxford comma, still with us” does a wonderful job of explaining the debate and offering up an opinion, using this common example:

• red, white and blue — no Oxford comma
• red, white, and blue — Oxford comma

According to Wikipedia (which shows an excellent list of the preferences of some major publishers and presses in this ongoing war):

“… This practice is controversial and is known as the serial comma or Oxford comma, because it is part of the house style of Oxford University Press.”^[5] It is used less often in British English,^[6] but some British style guides require it, including the Oxford University Press style manual.^[7] Some, including Fowler’s Modern English Usage, use it only where necessary to avoid ambiguity.^[8]

Proponents of the Oxford comma use the ambiguity argument with zeal, often citing examples of compound nouns where the omission of the comma creates a hiccup in the reader’s experience:

• My usual breakfast is coffee, bacon and eggs and toast. Incorrect
• My usual breakfast is coffee, bacon and eggs, and toast. Oxford comma

The serial comma, they say, clarifies the compound noun bacon and eggs and avoids a strange-looking list with too many ands. But what other options do we have? There are lots!

• My usual breakfast is coffee, bacon, eggs and toast. No Oxford comma
• My usual breakfast is coffee, bacon, eggs, and toast. Oxford comma
• My usual breakfast is bacon and eggs, coffee and toast. No Oxford comma
• My usual breakfast is bacon and eggs, coffee, and toast. Oxford comma

All are correct, punctuationally (I know this is not a word – yet), but the debate rages over which one is more correct. Hmm…?

The comma is intended to provide clarity and avoid confusion, not create more of it! We should always have our readers at the forefront of our mind, and it is certainly preferable that our intended meaning is clear. And I agree, in many cases the Oxford comma does a good job of this. Take the following sentence, for example:

•       We invited the strippers, JFK and Stalin.*

In this case, we have two strippers named JFK and Stalin. If we inserted the serial comma, we would understand that we invited strippers, plus JFK, plus Stalin. (Either way, it sounds like some party!) But the serial comma does little to clear up the ambiguity in the following instance:

•      We invited the stripper, JFK, and Stalin.

Are there three invitees or is it just Stalin and a stripper named JFK? In this case, the ambiguity remains and the only solution would be a rewrite. So this comma that people say clarifies the meaning of everything can be just as guilty of causing ambiguity!

What’s worse, strict use of the rule lends itself to the misuse of the comma in other situations.

•      The judge called a recess, and the jury left the courtroom to deliberate.  Correct

•      The jury deliberated for an hour, and returned to the courtroom to read their decision.  Incorrect

The first sentence is a compound sentence, where two subjects are joined by a comma and the coordinating conjunction and. The second sentence is a simple sentence with a compound predicate (two verbs being used by the same subject), and the comma before the and is incorrect. Unfortunately, a comma is often mistakenly placed here for the simple reason that we have been trained to insert a comma before every and, partially thanks to the confusion surrounding the serial comma.

How is your blood pressure so far? Lynne Truss, the author of Eats, Shoots and Leaves, offers this advice: “There are people who embrace the Oxford comma and those who don’t, and I’ll just say this: never get between these people when drink has been taken.”

So where do I stand? Well, it’s true that I have never liked the insertion of the comma where the meaning is obvious and clear. To me, that extra comma is a waste of space (much like the double space after a period). What is wrong with “red, white and blue”? I don’t believe adding a comma after white makes it any more understandable, but rather, enforcing an Oxford comma here shows a lack of flexibility regarding content and gives rise to unnecessary rigidity. It makes writers and editors slaves to rules and their exceptions instead of using punctuation as a tool for communication. Not to mention that it shows a lack of respect for the intelligence of your readers.

So, it would seem that I prefer to have a choice! I am not a lover of the Oxford comma, but neither am I a hater, especially when it makes sense to use it. I prefer to use my comma sense. *groan*

And it turns out, I’m not alone. While the University of Oxford Press demands the use of their Oxford comma, the University’s Public Affairs Directorate has decided on their own style guide:

• use a comma between items in a list

  I ate fish, bread, ice cream and spaghetti.

  I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat.

Um, hold on. Where’s their Oxford comma?

• note that there is generally no comma between the penultimate item and ‘and’/‘or’, unless required to prevent ambiguity – this is sometimes referred to as the ‘Oxford comma’.

  He took French, Spanish, and Maths A-levels.

  I ate fish and chips, bread and jam, and ice cream.

  We studied George III, William and Mary, and Henry XIII.

  She left her money to her parents, Mother Theresa and the pope.

Look at that. They choose to use it where it makes the most sense to do so, and they seem to trust in their readers to be discerning enough to know their intended meaning. Thank you.

So while the war rages on, I’ll quietly choose to live by the wise words of the American band Vampire Weekend**: “Who gives a f@#k about an Oxford Comma?”

 

*Check out his fantastic Infogram showing the Oxford comma in use!

**Vampire Weekend reportedly wrote this song after learning of a Columbia University Facebook group called Students for the Preservation of the Oxford Comma. See the video here.

References

G, RL. “Oxford comma, still with us” in The Economist online, June 30, 2011 http://www.economist.com/blogs/johnson/2011/06/commas

Truss, Lynne. Eats, Shoots and Leaves (Gotham Books, 2006)

University of Oxford Press, House Style Guide online http://global.oup.com/uk/academic/authors/AuthorGuidelinesMain/HouseStyle/#lev4

University of Oxford Public Affairs Directorate, Style Guide online http://www.ox.ac.uk/public_affairs/services_and_resources/style_guide/punctuation.html

 

Those Tricky Possessives

To Add S or Not to Add S, That Is the Question

I thought maybe for this next post, we might stick to something a little more cut and dried: Possessives. Now, the apostrophe s is not without its fair share of misuse, and has even caused one state across the border to impose legislation about it! Something about those tricky possessives gets people hot and bothered.

The Chicago Manual of Style (CMS) warns us that the term possessive is a “misleadingly narrow” term, as the genitive case (the linguistic term for possessives) is formed in such a variety of ways, depending on the particular noun and its usage within a sentence. CMS offers a clear description of the functions genitives perform:

The genitive case denotes (1) ownership, possession, or occupancy {the architect’s drawing board} {Arnie’s room}; (2) a relationship {the philanthropist’s secretary}; (3) agency {the company’s representative}; (4) description {a summer’s day}; (5) the role of a subject {the boy’s application} (the boy applied); (6) the role of an object {the prisoner’s release} (someone released the prisoner); or (7) an idiomatic shorthand form of an of-phrase (e.g., one hour’s delay is equal to a delay of one hour).^[1]

For our purposes, we will use the term possessive and take a look at why everyone is so conflicted, or just plain confused, about which form to use.

My own experience as a copyeditor for a popular Canadian children’s book publisher was just as conflicted. I was in the room when the decision came down to remove the s after the apostrophe in the title Silas’ Seven Grandparents, a decision that went against our own house style. The reasoning was that we didn’t want the word ass on the cover of a children’s book. Fair enough, although the rigid grammarian in me disagreed wholeheartedly. It just goes to show,  rules can always be overruled.

Let’s start with a refresher. There is general agreement among style guides on the principles of how to form possessives for common nouns:

• a singular noun that doesn’t end in -s — add ’s {expert’s opinion}
• a plural noun that ends in -s or -es — add an apostrophe {appellants’ house} {judges’ decision}
• an irregular plural noun that doesn’t end in -s — add ’s {women’s rights}

Everyone can agree so far, right? These same rules apply to proper nouns as well, but they become a little more confusing for some reason. Let’s say Justice Smith hands down a decision. The possessive form becomes Justice Smith’s decision. Singular possessive. Easy. But what about Justice Thomas? Is it Thomas’s decision or Thomas’ decision? That silly s throws us for a loop every time!

The Canadian Style from Dundurn Press tells us it is all in the sibilants (a linguistic term for sounds that resonate, like s and z, even x) that fall at the end of a word. They say: “If it would be natural to pronounce an extra s, add ’s; if an additional s would be difficult to pronounce, add only an apostrophe.” ^[2] Their examples are Brussels’ bureaucrats but the boss’s office.

That logic would lead us to use an ’s in our example. Thomas’s decision sounds natural. And I agree. But what about a name like Descartes? We don’t pronounce the final s, so is it Descartes’s decision or Descartes’ decision? If we follow their sibilant rule, we would omit the final s, but all my other sources tell me to leave the final s there. If we were to use Descartes’s decision, would people be inclined, then, to mispronounce it “Descartesez decision”? How can so many other respected resources be wrong?

To clear up this hiccup, The Canadian Style goes on to say: “Since awkwardness of pronunciation is the basic criterion, the decision to add or omit a possessive s ultimately depends on the writer’s [or editor’s] own sensitivities.” What? What kind of a rule is that? So we are just left to fend for ourselves?

And we wonder why everyone is confused!

So I propose we stick to the basics. Here’s a simple table to follow when in doubt.

                                        Singular (’s)                Regular Plural (s’)              Irregular Plural (’s)
                                (ending in -s or not)          (ending in -s or -es)             (not ending in -s)

Common nouns       a judge’s verdict          the judges’ decisions              women’s rights
                                    a witness’s testimony    witnesses’ comments             children’s innocence

Proper nouns            Smith’s case                   the Smiths’ case
                                    Thomas’s judgment        the Thomases’ appeal

And so where do the names that end in silent s wind up in this chart? Descartes is a singular name, so I would use apostrophe s, Descartes’s idea (although I would pronounce it correctly). But if it was the awkward plural Descartes family, The Copyeditor’s Handbook (and my personal Bible for editing and copyediting) suggests: “Best to treat the plural of Descartes as invariant and enlist ‘of’: the home of the Descartes (not the Descarteses’ home and not the Descartes’ home).”^[3] And honestly, for the multitude of times we’ve found ourselves writing about the home of the Descartes, a little formality probably sounded better anyway.

These are the basics of the possessive s. For more detailed information on any exceptions to the rule or any lingering questions about it, leave a comment and I’ll do my best to respond. Until then, check out these great references:

• Einsohn, Amy. The Copyeditor’s Handbook (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2006)
• The Chicago Manual of Style, 16^th ed (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2010) online: http://www.chicagomanualofstyle.org/home.html
• The Canadian Style: A Guide to Writing and Editing (Toronto: Dundurn Press, 1997)

 

^[1] “5.19 Genitive Case”, The Chicago Manual of Style, 16^th ed (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2010) online: http://www.chicagomanualofstyle.org/home.html

^[2] The Canadian Style: A Guide to Writing and Editing (Toronto: Dundurn Press, 1997) at 141.

^[3] Einsohn, Amy. The Copyeditor’s Handbook (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2006) at 135.