There are many who believe in fate.
It seems probable that Carson will win the contest.
 
What is “there”? Can you replace it with a noun? How about “it”? Can you identify it (meaning “it”!)? The answers to these two questions are, respectively, “no one knows” and “no way.”
 
The reason why no one can define these subjects is that they are what I call “esoteric.” While the dictionary definition of “esoteric” is, essentially, “understood by only a select few,” I use the word to mean “out there,” such as something one cannot grasp or describe.
 
Additionally, one cannot find an esoteric subject that isn’t paired with a form of the “to be” verb or another linking verb. As I’ll discuss in a future post, writing improves when we minimize use of these weaker verbs.
 
Finally, I have never spotted a sentence using an esoteric subject that I couldn’t shorten otherwise. You’ve probably ascertained from this comment of mine that verbosity is a no-no.
 
Essentially, then, the use of esoteric subjects proves highly problematic—especially to my easily annoyed self—as it presents a triple whammy:  indefinable subject, weak verb, and unnecessarily wordy sentence.
 
So, let’s dissect these three problems and see how we can fix them. The first issue I have is that esoteric subjects are—well, esoteric. Readers like clarity, as long as it’s available. (And clarity is not available when writing without the esoteric subject would make the sentence sound like you’re in seventeenth-century England; for example, you wouldn’t write “It is spewing rain” to replace “It is raining”!) In any event, see if you can define the pronoun. Often, all you need to do is delete the pronoun and replace it with a subject already in the sentence. If so, problem solved!
 
My second concern with esoteric subjects is their reliance on weak verbs. Can you replace that dull sound with a louder one—one that paints a picture in the mind? Often, all you need to do is move around or play with words already there.
 
The third problem—wordiness—automatically gets resolved when you fix the first two. Isn’t that convenient?
 
Now, let’s try with the sentences at the top:
Many believe in fate.
-Deleted “there”? Check! Deleted “are”? Check! Shortened the sentence? Check, by
 three words, in fact!
Carson will probably win the contest.
-Deleted “it”? Check! Deleted “seems”? Check! Shortened the sentence? Check, again by
 three words (which, I assure you, is a coincidence)!
 
Minimizing, if not eliminating, esoteric subjects strengthens your writing and helps you meet that dreaded character, word, or page limit. Try it on your own! 

Grammar rules can prove to be a great source of stress. First, learning the names of parts of speech can lead to confusion and does little to further understanding. Second, often the description of a rule will provide that you should “usually” do something, which begs the question of when you shouldn’t. Third, rules come with exceptions, which sometimes outnumber the rules! Finally, grammar rules can bring back disturbing memories of elementary school, which can lead to poor sleep and worsening health. You get the picture!

In my hope to foster longevity through writing, I’ve decided to offer an easy way to tackle at least one of the grammar nightmares for many of us:  The possessive form of names ending in “s.”

Strunk & White’s famous (or should I change that to “infamous”?) book on writing, The Elements of Style, covers this topic on its first page. Interestingly, the most useful tidbit I’ve gleaned from this discussion is the exception of ancient figures:  Socrates’ teachings; Moses’ tablets (not the electronic ones); or Jesus’ sandals (which you can still buy in Greece). These always require only the apostrophe, and no added “s.” How is this an exception? Keep reading...

The question you more likely encounter is how to make non-ancient names possessive when they end in the letter “s.” And the easy answer is to say the possessive form of the name out loud—or in your head so you don’t attract stares. Do you hear an extra “es” sound? If so, add apostrophe “s”:  Atticus’s argument; Mavis’s business.

But, what if an extra “es” sound sounds funny? If that’s the case, then just add an apostrophe (without the “s”). So, let’s try. Would you say Mercedes’s car? No. Then just write Mercedes’ car. Would you say Rivers’s solution? No. Then just write Rivers’ solution. Would you name your child River? I have no idea.

You can apply this “sound” concept to plural names as well, as long as you first make the name plural:  The Joneses’ house; the Menendezes’ opening. Now, back to that exception above. If we were to apply this concept to biblical names or the like, we’d write Artemis’s dad (who was Zeus, by the way)—but we don’t because she’s too old—ancient, in fact! What is the purpose of that exception? I have no idea.

I can never overestimate the number of times I’ve seen misused possessives—especially on signs. One of our earliest instincts as toddlers seems to be protecting our own possessions, be they toys or baby siblings (speaking from my non-psychological perspective, in any event). Yet we have so much trouble expressing possessives properly in writing. The singular form is not usually a problem for most (ignoring singular words that end in the letter “s”)—just add apostrophe “s”:
 
 Gloria’s watch
The book’s cover
 
But many become confused with the plural possessive form. Because our fifth-grade teachers told us merely to add “s” apostrophe to a singular noun to make a plural noun into a possessive—and because most plural nouns end in the letter “s” anyway—we tend to follow this mantra blindly. It works, however, ONLY when the plural noun ends in the letter “s.” For example:
 
The planets’ alignment
The judges’ robes
 
But what if the plural form of a noun does NOT end in the letter “s”? Consider the following:
 
Children’s clothing      vs.        Childrens’ clothing
Mice’s cages               vs.        Mices’ cages
 
The word “childrens” does not exist; the word “mices” does not exist. (You can tell that this bothers me.)
 
The simple solution for those of us who struggle with plural possessives it to forget our fifth-grade teachers’ mantra to add “s” apostrophe (no offense, Mr. Rosenfeld). Just write the plural form of the noun, and THEN add your apostrophe. The new mantra should be “plural noun, apostrophe.”  It’s a mouthful, but it works.
 
In another post, I’ll write about singular and plural forms of names that end in “s.” Until then, enjoy your possessions! Or, rather, enjoy your possessives!

We all learned about nouns, verbs, and adjectives when we were in elementary school. The adjective describes the noun, of course. So, in the following sentence, the word “ancient” is the adjective: 
 
Professor Hodes teaches ancient literature.
 
Now, if we substitute this adjective for a phrasal adjective, which is an adjective comprising more than one word, we keep that phrase together by using dashes:
 
Professor Hodes teaches fourteenth-century literature.
 
Without hyphenating the phrase, we risk relaying the wrong meaning. For example, consider the different meanings of these sentences:
 
Charlene qualifies as a mental health counselor.
Charlene qualifies as a mental-health counselor.
 
Using dashes to keep the phrasal adjective together ensures that we say what we mean to say.
 
What if Professor Hodes teaches fifteenth-century literature as well? Wouldn’t the following sound cumbersome and repetitive?:
 
Professor Hodes teaches fourteenth-century and fifteenth-century literature.

Yes, that’s a mouthful. It’s not wrong, but wordy. The common denominator (for all you “mathletes” out there) is the word “century.” So, here’s the proper way to use phrasal adjectives with common denominators:
 
Professor Hodes teaches fourteenth- and fifteenth-century literature.
 
That sounds so much better! (I knew my love of math would come in handy one day.) But please don’t link the first half of the phrasal adjective to “and”; “fourteenth-” belongs alone because the “century” part is implied. “And” is not part of the phrase.
 
The law, of course, abounds with exceptions to every rule, and grammar is no different:  We don’t insert a dash in a phrasal adjective when the first word of the phrase ends in “ly.” That’s probably because the “ly” clues us into the phrasal nature of the adjective. Therefore, we would write this:
 
             Dr. Rhodes is a psychologically sound physician.
 
My advice is to look for phrasal adjectives while proofreading. Add those needed dashes to clarify your message. Think of it as adding dashes of spice to your dish.

Surprisingly, some writers—whether students, attorneys, journalists, authors, physicians, business-owners, or bloggers—don't proofread carefully or at all. For example, I once saw a blog post entitled, "Be a Parent to You're Children." I don't want to read that post! Because "spell-check" does not recognize misused words, proofreading is vital. 
 
And we should proofread for not only grammar and punctuation, but also attachments. We’ve all sent emails forgetting to attach a document or picture that we announced was attached. How embarrassing is that? You certainly don't want to inquire about a job and forget to attach your résumé! A worthwhile practice is to insert the recipient’s email address only after proofreading the body of the email (including the subject line); for a reply email, merely delete the “.com” until you're ready to send the email. As for the attachment, just attach it before you even begin to write.

My advice is to slow down (just for a few minutes!) to give yourself time to proofread. 

Many attorneys use the suffix “Esq.” after their own names. Yet that title actually is a term of respect for others; attorneys should not use it for themselves. In other words, "Esq." is a title of courtesy. 

Granted, it has become commonplace for attorneys to sign court documents and correspondence with the “Esq.” suffix. They use it even on their business cards—often despite the presence of an obvious law firm name or the phrase “Attorneys at Law.” Just beware that some may consider its personal use improper or, worse, pretentious.