Following up on yesterday’s post, if we don’t call someone who is strict about grammar a “Grammar Nazi”, what do we call them?
If you have other suggestions, feel free to add them below. (Bet you can’t guess which one is my favourite 😉 )
A few weeks ago, on an online writer’s forum, a user posted a request for a “Grammar Nazi” to beta read their manuscript. I knew what they meant. They wanted someone with a sharp eye, a good grasp of grammar and a brutal approach to editing to specifically check for language errors in their writing. However, I did not expect the response this poor user’s post evoked.
As she was busy making us some sandwiches for dinner the wife asked me, “What’s an Oxford comma?” This, of course, in reference to my closing lines in yesterday’s post. To her great consternation I burst out in laughter, not because I thought the question silly (two years ago I did not know of the Oxford comma, and I’d taught high school English for five years), but because at that moment I was reading a rather entertaining discussion of the serial comma (to use it’s more humble name) by Mary Norris, Comma Queen and copy editor at The New Yorker.
Also, four for four. I’ve no idea what’s going on this week. I appear to be slipping back into my blogging habits from back when I started out. Let’s see how long I can keep it up. Tomorrow there will be a quiz (unless there isn’t 😉 )
Three posts in three days. I know, right? Better not make this a habit. But how could I let National (not my nation, but who cares?) Grammar Day pass without a tip of the proverbial hat? Especially after coming across this totally cool grammar quiz on the Grammarly Blog via Grammar Girl’s Twitter feed? (Goodness! I’ll stop typing “grammar” now. Okay, a couple more times: grammar; grammar. I’m done now. Promise.)
I had a very nice idea for today’s post. Then I wrote it up and decided it wasn’t such a nice idea after all, so I trashed it. I had just decided I’m not going to post anything when the universe came to my rescue.
The wife asked me how to spell “colleague” (in our home my roles include being a dictionary and encyclopedia along with chauffeur, dishwasher and financial manager). That reminded me of one of my pet peeves as far as language is concerned.
And like a sign from the South African Broadcasting Corporation, just at that moment on the television the theme song of that great British comedy, Mind Your Language, started to play.
I’m not one to disregard signs, so here’s a quick language rant.