DARIN MICHAEL SHAW

It happened again.

I was sitting peacefully in a local café, bothering no one, enjoying an omelet, grits, and coffee—which, frankly, is about as close to contentment as a man should expect before 9 a.m.

Then my server appeared with the coffeepot. “How is everything?”

Everything? Everything?!

Well, she asked.

“I woke up at 2:17 this morning with a charley horse. Once that subsided, you might have guessed … nature called. Limped back from the bathroom and I made the tactical error of looking at the clock … which reminded me I wasn’t asleep … which reminded me of several things I needed to do today … which reminded me of several bills I need to pay. And, have I told you what my health insurance costs?”

I hadn’t even gotten to my upcoming trip to the pharmacy when she interrupted. “I mean … how is your breakfast?”

Oh. The breakfast. “Fine. The breakfast is fine.”

Civilization has been spared. For now.

The Case of the Perturbing Pronouns

Elsewhere, on the other side of town, another unsuspecting diner enters Café de Mot. A cheerful server approaches.

“And how are we this morning?”

A chill runs through the room. A dangling modifier ducks beneath a table. Two adverbs flee through the kitchen. Somewhere in the distance, a semicolon begins to weep. This is no ordinary grammatical emergency.

This is a job for Grammar Man!

Faster than a run-on sentence! Stronger than an Oxford comma! Able to leap misplaced apostrophes in a single bound! His mission: To eradicate grammatical error wherever it lurks.

Today’s villains?

Everything. Everybody. And the especially sinister—We.

These are pronouns, words that stand in for nouns or groups of nouns. Usually, context tells us what they mean.

Usually.

The trouble begins when someone unleashes an enormous pronoun into a very small situation. “How is everything?”

Technically, you’ve opened the door. Everything includes my breakfast, my lower back, the mysterious noise my car started making Tuesday, the state of American politics, my cholesterol, and whether the Buccaneers can protect their quarterback this Sunday.

You asked. I merely answered.

If you would like to demonstrate the danger of this question yourself, feel free to mention toe fungus. Colonoscopies are also effective. For advanced students: “I’ve got a lot of gas this morning.” Say it loudly enough and you’ll likely gain elbow room at the breakfast counter or local bar.

But—and Grammar Man hates admitting this—context matters.

When a server standing beside your plate asks, “How is everything?” a reasonably functioning human being understands she probably isn’t requesting an update on your retirement portfolio. She means the food.

In such situations, Grammar Man therefore recommends mercy. “My breakfast is great. Thank you.” No cape required.

But Then There’s We

“We,” however, is another matter. We is a first-person plural pronoun. It includes the person speaking. Which is why Grammar Man becomes alarmed whenever someone in a medical setting asks: “How are we doing today?”

Grammar Man once heard this before surgery.

We? Well, one of us is wearing scrubs and appears remarkably calm. The other is wearing a backless gown, hasn’t eaten since midnight, and is wondering whether it’s possible to escape through an air-conditioning vent.

We are not having the same morning.

Grammar Man’s ruling is therefore simple. If you ask, “How is everything?” he’ll extend grace. Context will probably rescue you. But if you lean over a frightened patient and ask, “How are we today?” you may receive a mild grammatical reprimand: “I believe you mean, ‘How are you?’”

Then again, Grammar Man is getting older. He may simply sigh, answer the question and save his remaining strength for the truly dangerous offenders.

People who write alot.
People who confuse your and you’re.
And whoever decided an apostrophe belongs in every word ending in s.

Grammar Man sees you. And he is coming.

NEXT TIME:

Grammar Man confronts one of his oldest enemies: EVERYDAY vs. EVERY DAY

Two expressions enter. Only one leaves.

Seen a grammatical offense worthy of Grammar Man’s attention? Send it his way. He has a cape, a questionable temperament, and apparently nothing better to do.

There are a lot of people walking around with stories they want to tell.

Some have been writing for years. Others have a story but aren’t entirely comfortable calling themselves writers yet. Some have half a manuscript tucked away on a computer somewhere. Some have finished the thing and are wondering what in the world they’re supposed to do with it now.

And some simply want to become better writers.

Over the past several months, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I might help more of them.

Writing has been my profession for the last 13 years. I’ve written books, ghostwritten and collaboratively developed books with others, edited manuscripts, written hundreds of devotional reflections and created more articles, website pages, marketing pieces and assorted collections of words than I could begin to count.

And I’m still learning.

That’s one of the things I love most about writing. There is always something else to notice. Something to try. Another way to tell the story.

That thinking has gradually grown into something I’m calling Storysmithing: Helping Stories Find Their Voice. And there are now several ways to pull up a chair.

From the Storysmith’s Notebook

Let’s start with the easiest one. It’s free.

From the Storysmith’s Notebook will be an ongoing collection of things I’ve learned—and continue to learn—about putting better words on the page.

These won’t be numbered lessons you have to follow in order. Think of them more like entries in a working writer’s notebook: writing tips, exercises, examples, quotations worth considering, before-and-after edits, things I notice in good writing, and occasional observations from my own work.

Read one. Skip three. Try an exercise. Steal an idea. Come back when something catches your attention.

No registration. No fee. Just one working writer sharing some things that might help another.

You’ll find the Notebook and other free Storysmithing resources on my Storysmithing page.

Find Your Circle

Sometimes we need more than something to read. We need other writers around us.

That’s the idea behind Storysmithing Circles.

Circles are small, focused online workshops—typically three to eight people—built around a particular kind of writing or a particular skill writers want to develop.

The first Circles taking shape include a Memoir Circle, a Daily Devotional Circle, and Getting Your Book Published. Others may explore fiction, narrative nonfiction, historical fiction, copywriting, ghostwriting, research and whatever else writers tell me they’d like to learn.

The format may change somewhat with the subject, but the idea is simple: read, notice, learn, write and share.

We’ll look at good writing. Ask what makes it work. Learn some things. Try some things. And do it with a handful of other writers gathered around the virtual Circle.

You can learn more—and tell me what kind of Circle you’d be interested in joining—on the Storysmithing Circles page.

Bring Your Story to the Table

Then there’s The Storysmithing Table.

The Table is different.

Rather than gathering around a particular genre or writing skill, we gather around the projects the writers bring with them.

Maybe you’re writing a memoir. A novel. A family story. A devotional. Something you’ve started and stalled on—or something that doesn’t fit neatly into any category.

The Table is a more focused, project-oriented experience designed to help you figure out what you’re really trying to say, who you’re writing for, what’s working, what isn’t yet, and how to keep moving toward a finished manuscript.

It’s small by design because I want room to spend time with the writers and their actual work.You can learn more about that experience on The Storysmithing Table.