The Reverse Pass, Large Carousel Horse, & a Friend in Need

Today was a tough one. It was my last day at work in Pullman, Washington, the last day that I would see many of the people I have been working with for nearly 7 years.

I’m broken up—and elated. I’m sad, but I haven’t cried. Is it simply the dry climate of Eastern Washington, or something more?

People have come and gone from my company over the last 7 years. These all hurt in their own special way when they left. But to lose so many people who I cared for all at the same time, regardless of how difficult they were and how reticent they were to show any kind of caring, it’s depressing.

I made a decision. An impossible decision. I threw the dice. Some called me brave. Others crazy. I upturned my whole life, everything that I had sought to nail down tight over the last seven years, I uprooted, like so much lemon balm.

Music. They say writers write because they can do nothing else. Maybe that’s so because as I write this my piano is packed up on the U-Haul truck and the emotion that I might have taken out in a progression of chords has become words thrown across a screen. I see it now. The only thing to do is what Duke Ellington did. Learn the chords. Learn them as completely and thoroughly as you might learn a language.

Russian. I made it. I made it the whole time and never asked once. Do you know I.? Or, Y. as I might stubbornly insist on saying.

But, back to music. Learning music, chord progressions, etc. Learning music as groupings of chords instead of with sheet music and another artist’s thoughts. Learning music the way that Duke Ellington must have. Duke Ellington was self-taught but then came up with some of the most compelling melodies of all time. A soul revealed in tone. Duke Ellington, a tonal genius similar to Chopin. Duke Ellington, my jazz hero along with Thelonious Monk and Fats Waller. There are others, of course.

The Reverse Pass. The drive to and from work has been a real bear. During certain times of the year, here on the Palouse, I was afraid to drive the car on the highway. Afraid I was completely incapable of the task. Feeling stuck. And the people who didn’t care for me would remind me of this weakness at every opportunity.

Fast Forward to today. The reverse pass is something I do when someone is tailgating me. I simply pull over and let the Cling-On pass. But the reverse pass is more complicated than that. Since there are so many hills and blind corners here and everyone drives so fast because they know the road, when I do the pass, it is more of a predictive reverse pass. I know the spots that are particularly difficult for me to drive at 65 miles an hour. You know, those spots marked 45. And I pull over to let who ever might be coming up behind me pass even if they aren’t especially close to me at the time.

Today, I was thinking about a person I didn’t say good-bye to as I drove through the Dragon’s Gullet at 65 or maybe 70 miles and hour. No problem. No concern. I know this because I woke up from my daze going 67 miles per hour.

Really, I didn’t slow down on the Dragon’s Gullet? I was planning to reverse pass there for the last time.

I was going home early so I’d be there when people from work showed up to help me move my piano. The one I inherited from my grandmother. The one that I have moved from Waco to Austin and Austin to Joseph, and Joseph to Portland, and Portland to Portland, and Portland to Clarkston and Clarkston to Uniontown and now from Uniontown to Portland.

I thought of selling it for $300. After all, I could have bought a grand by now with all the money I had spent moving it. Someone emailed me. They had questions. What they got back from me was a laundry list of scratches that the poor old thing holds. The scars of a 65-year life. And two weeks ago I made a breakthrough. I crossed a threshold, a plateau. I had an epiphany.

The whole thing blew open as if from Napoleon Hill’s advice. It was a though I had invited Duke Ellington to tea, and he had shown up. It was like that. I got the answer.

Duke Ellington, Hunter S. Thompson, I.T.—people I find interesting, geniuses I’d like to have dinner with.

Them and Toni Morrison. I wouldn’t mind having dinner with her. When Charlie Rose asked her the three things she had learned in her life, she answered: No, Stop, Go Away.

Brilliant Toni. Brilliant. What a statement of independence and defiance. I feel it.

Sergei Dovlatov. This is pure sentimentalism, but if I had to choose one and only one famous idol to dine with. And if one really would dine with me. Who would it be? Sergei. It’s Sergei. Of course, it’s Sergei.

The Carousel Horse. The enormous carousel horse needed a new home. Which of my friends has 5 little girls? Meet the new owner of the carousel horse.

A friend in need is a friend in deed. The piano litmus test. Well, we got it on the truck.

Pre-Trip Heart Attack

It’s been my experience that there is always going to be a pre-trip heart attack. There is always going to be that moment when you realize that you don’t have something that is absolutely critical—with the upshot being that you are completely and totally screwed.

For me, that moment happened this morning. Just five hours before heading off to UHaul to pick up the moving truck, just two days before we intend to hit the road—forever—to be “off the grid” for the next 9 weeks—in the wee hours of the morning, it came back to me that my husband told me yesterday that he had gotten pulled over and couldn’t produce proof of vehicular insurance—that critical little piece of paper that will convince UHaul to let us drive away with their 26-foot long truck this morning!

As one part of my mind worked on figuring out how I was completely blameless for this turn of events and my sleeping husband was, of course, the villain—thankfully, the other part of my brain woke up and started working on a solution.

That’s when I realized, as an added bonus, that we also did not know the location of the keys to our house in Portland and I wasn’t exactly sure where the title was either.

Everything is packed. There is absolutely no place these items could be but in the enormous mound of boxed-up stuff. Stuff I’ve been working on boxing, at first slowly and then quickly, for well over a year.

My mind turned it over again and again. Call the insurance agent tomorrow—but it’ll take forever to get the new cards and we won’t have a mailing address that is usable after two days. We’ll never get them in time. Etc. Etc.

Then it dawned on me. The Internet!

All I had to do was go to my insurance provider’s site and print out our proof of vehicular insurance from there.

It was so simple, so easy. If only I can keep stress from shuttingoff my brain for a few more days. Just a few more days!

Then, in the last box that hasn’t yet been taped, that’s still open, I found the keys to our house, buried yes, but there.


My life is in serious upheaval at the moment, which is good—I think. I fully intend to get back to the blogging life. I fully intend to start examining literature again and posting thoughts and reflections. Seems like I was doing ok at that for a while, but then my life started unraveling. For now, everything is on hold. Suspended. It’s like someone died, but thankfully no one has.

So what’s up with Word Wabbit?

This Wabbit is going on a long camping trip, a walkabout of sorts. I’m heading to the Olympic peninsula in Washington State. There’s something about denial that makes one overindulge. All of a sudden I need a vacation. Mortality figures in. Those of you who have lost parents can relate. Life is short. There are no guarantees.

I would like my daily routine to look something like this:

  • Roll out of the tent and stretch.
  • Light fire.
  • Make breakfast.
  • Clean up.
  • Go for hike.
  • Sit in woods.
  • Hike some more.
  • Break out the high-powered binoculars.
  • Take a few photos.
  • Walk some more.
  • Wander back to camp.
  • Take a nap.
  • Snack.
  • Hike.
  • Spy a bear.
  • Keep cool—don’t get eaten.
  • Alternatively play dead? Run fast?
  • Campfire.
  • Stare into embers.
  • Meditate.
  • Sleep.
  • Repeat.

That’s the idea anyway. If the stars align. I may blog about it. If. Maybe. We’ll see. If that happens, I’ll post reflections, photos, etc. at

Happy trails to you until we meet again…




Home remedies: Part 2

backyard gardenThese are random notes picked up from various places.

Vitamin A
Red pepper
Chilli powder
Sweet potatoes
Butternut squash
Iceberg lettuce
Mustard greens

Sesame butter
Flax seeds
Dried figs
Turnip greens (boil them)

Egg yolks
Shitake mushrooms
White beans

Vitamin D
Fish (salmon, sardines)
Mushrooms (shitake)

Pumpkin seeds
Swiss chard
Black beans

For your eyes:
Cooked kale
Turnip greens
Kidney beans

Boost immune system

Hormonal problems
Before you reach for the thyroid medication or worse yet surgery, try:

  • Cleansing your liver (daily; with juice of a whole lemon squeezed into a large glass of water)
  • 30 minutes daily of cardio exercise
  • Avoiding corn syrup
  • Avoiding sugar
  • Avoiding flour
  • Avoiding all milk products (because of the hormones given to cows)
  • Magnesium
  • Chromium
  • Lipoic acid
  • Vitamin D
  • Omega-3 fatty acids
  • Flaxseeds
  • Cinnamon (1-2 teaspoons daily)
  • Licorice Root (500 mg/day)
  • Green tea (twice a day)
  • Spearmint tea (twice a day)
  • Saw palmetto

Facial tics, insomnia

  • Magnesium
  • Eliminate carbonated drinks
  • Eliminate sugar
  • Eliminate coffee
  • Eliminate alcohol
  • Add green leafy vegetables

Blood sugar control

  • Chromium – broccoli, brewer’s yeast, barley, sweet potatoes
  • Cinnamon

World’s Healthiest Foods


Passive Voice: It can be done!

The gingerbread men were chased around the kitchen.

The gingerbread men were chased around the kitchen.

Rules are comforting. With them, you don’t have to consider your actions. You don’t have to think. And while, generally, rules are good, not thinking is bad—Bad, bad, bad.

Strunk and White’s Rule 14 is an excellent example. This rule simply states: “Use the active voice.”

Overall, this is good advice. It is good to use the active voice. It is good to attribute action. But, the skimmers among us—I am guilty of this too—sometimes take the rule at face value and decide from here on out to strike down passive voice.

Thou shalt not be passive!

Had they—had I—read but 2 inches down the page, they (I) would have found the following caveat:

This rule does not, of course, mean that the writer should entirely discard the passive voice, which is frequently convenient and sometimes necessary.

Strunk and White fail to inform us when exactly the passive voice is necessary.

The Gregg Reference Manual of Style comes to our aid:

The passive form of a verb is appropriate (1) when you want to emphasize the receiver of the action (by making it the subject) or (2) when the doer or the action is not important or is deliberately not mentioned.

Too much active voice can seem machine-like or monotonous. Mixing active with passive gives the writing variety and interest. The use of active voice when the actor is obvious also has the effect of placing special emphasis on the actor, almost to the point of being boastful and definitely gives a sense of assertiveness. These things are ok as long as it is the intention of the writer.

But please don’t think I am calling for the use of passive voice. I am merely not calling for its complete eradication. Here’s a quote that sums up my feelings. It is from my grandmother’s style book The Century Handbook of Writing by Garland Greever and Easley S. Jones @1932:

The passive voice is especially objectionable when, by failing to indicate the agent of the verb, it unnecessarily mystifies the reader.

Word Wabbit’s Rule #1 (which all too frequently is broken): Do not mystify the reader!



Latin alphabet: timeline of influences and developments

3700 B.C.—Sumerians developed the idea of systemic phoneticism; used cuneiform which would be widely borrowed and adapted.

Systemic phoneticism—a tool for specifying isolated particles of information, such as transcribing foreign words or phonetically sounding out hard to identify signs that held several possible meanings. (History of Writing by Steven Roger Fischer)


Sumerian cunieform


3100 B.C.—Egyptian hieroglyphics emerged when the Egyptians borrowed the idea of writing, logography, phonography, and linearity with sequencing from the Sumerians.

Egyptian hieroglyphics

Egyptian hieroglyphics

2500 B.C.—Mesopotamian cuneiform script was complete; capable of conveying any and all thought.

Letter sent by the high-priest Lu’enna to the king of Lagash (maybe Urukagina), informing him of his son's death in combat. w:Clay tablet, c. 2400 BC, found in Telloh (ancient Girsu).

Letter sent by the high-priest Lu’enna to the king of Lagash (maybe Urukagina), informing him of his son’s death in combat. w:Clay tablet, c. 2400 BC, found in Telloh (ancient Girsu).

2000 B.C.—Egyptian scribes developed a 26 uniconsonantal sign alphabet which spread quickly among Egypt’s Semitic vassals, present in Egypt as slaves, mercenaries, and resident aliens.

1500 B.C.—Proto-Sinaitic derived from Egyptian hieroglyphics and was used in Caanan to write Caananite, the ancestral script of Phoenician and Hebrew. (BAS Library)

cuneiform tablet

Reverse of clay cuneiform tablet

1000 B.C.—The Phoenicians converted the Proto-Sinaitic pictorial Caananite alphabet to a simplified nonpictorial, Phoenician consonantal alphabet. All Western alphabets derive from this script.

"Pyrgi tablets". Laminated sheets of gold with a treatise both in Etruscan and Phoenician languages. From Etruscan Museum in Rome.

“Pyrgi tablets.”Laminated sheets of gold with a treatise both in Etruscan and Phoenician languages. From Etruscan Museum in Rome.

850 B.C.—The Greeks borrowed the Phoenician’s consonantal alphabet, finding it to be a faster and easier way for accountancy than syllabic writing; and added vowels.

Early Greek writing

Early Greek writiing


775 B.C.—The Etruscans were settled by the Greeks and borrowed the Greek alphabet to create the Euboean-Etruscan alphabet, which was Italy’s prevalent writing system until 200 B.C. when Etruria was assimilated into the Roman Empire.

650 B.C.—The Romans borrowed the Euboean-Etruscan alphabet to write Latin and spread a modified version, the Latin alphabet, throughout the Roman Empire.

55 B.C.—The first British exposure to the Roman alphabet took place when Julius Caesar first invaded Great Britain.

300 A.D.—The Romans developed uncial writing, a modification of square capital writing and the origin of present day lower-case letters.

600 A.D.—Christian missionaries from Ireland and Europe took the Latin alphabet to England where it replaced the Etruscan-influenced Germanic runic alphabet, Futhorc.

Example of Futhorc.

Front panel of the 7th century Frank’s casket.

100–1100 A.D.—Reign of Old English alphabet, a.k.a. Anglo-Saxon, and transition away from runic Futhorc alphabet. Beowulf is written in Old English.

Beowulf in Old English.

Beowulf in Old English.

1100–1450 A.D.—Reign of Middle English alphabet, the alphabet used to write Canterbury Tales.

Canterbury Tales

Canterbury Tales

1450 A.D.—Modern English alphabet emerges, the alphabet of Shakespeare and the Internet.

1927 A.D.—Television is first broadcast.

1950 A.D.—Emergence of Visual Language.

1961 A.D.—MIT develops Compatible Time-Sharing System (CTSS) which allows up to 30 users to log in at the same time and share messages.

1980 A.D.—CompuServe’s CB Simulator simulates citizen’s band radio through text-based messages and user handles.

1982 A.D.—Emoticons were started by Scott Fahlman, a Carnegie Mellon University professor; Commodore 64 PC is released and includes Internet service.

1990s—U.S. schools begin to drop cursive writing from their curriculums.

1995 A.D.—Texting was introduced as a way for phone networks to communicate important messages to their subscribers.

1996 A.D.— Mirabulus launched ICQ; text-based messenger that reached broad online audience.

1997 A.D.—AOL launched AIM allows users to send messages to each other and create profiles, included away messages and icons.

1998—Yahoo Messenger, chat room service.

1999 A.D.—Microsoft releases MSN Messenger, which tells users when friends are online and enables them to exchange messages.

2000 A.D.—Jabber, a multiprotocol instant messenger allows users to users to chat with friends.

2003 A.D.—Skype, users can communicate with each other via video, voice, and instant messaging.

2004 A.D.—Facebook is founded.

2005 A.D.—Google Talk (Google Chat), appears in Gmail user’s window, allowing real-time communication with email contacts as long as they are online with Gmail.

2006 A.D.—MySpaceIM, users and instant message with each other on their desktops.

2008 A.D.—Facebook Chat, users can instant message with one or multiple people.

2011 A.D.—Facebook Messenger, a mobile app is released; users can message each other from their handheld devices; Apple announces iMessage.

2013 A.D.—Common Core ceases to require U.S. public schools to teach cursive handwriting. At least 41 U.S. states do not teach cursive reading or writing.

A great post about the history of our alphabet is on I Love Topography.

Strunk and White (at a glance)

strunk and whiteThe book was originally written in 1919 by Professor William Strunk Jr. and was self-published by the author. It was professionally published in 1935, then again in 1957, 1972, and 2000. It’s fair to say this book has stood the test of time.

Strunk and White Elements of Style consists of:

  • 11 Rules of Usage
  • 11 Principles of Composition
  • 21 Style Guidelines
  • Commonly Misused Words and Expressions
  • Glossary

From the introduction:

Vigorous writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts. This requires not that the writer make all sentences short or avoid all detail and treat subjects only in outline, but that every word tell. (page xvi)

Professor Strunk, although one of the most inflexible and choosy of men, was quick to acknowledge the fallacy of inflexibility and the danger of doctrine. (page xvii)

The Rules of Usage

  1. Form the possessive singular of nouns by adding ‘s. (Contrary to Gregg and AP, which have exceptions.)
  2. In a series of three or more terms with a single conjunction, use a comma after each term except the last.
  3. Enclose parenthetic expressions between commas.
  4. Place a comma before a conjunction introducing an independent clause.
  5. Do not join independent clauses with a comma. (exceptions exist)
  6. Do not break sentences in two. (exceptions exist)
  7. Use a colon after an independent clause to introduce a list of particulars, an appositive, an amplification, or an illustrative quotation.
  8. Use a dash to set off an abrupt break or interruption and to announce a long appositive or summary.
  9. The number of the subject determines the number of the verb.
  10. Use the proper case of pronoun.
  11. A participial phrase at the beginning of a sentence must refer to the grammatical subject.

Notes on #3
Restrictive Clauses: Limit or define (clauses are not set off by commas)
Nonrestrictive (Parenthetic) Clauses: Do not limit or define; they mere add (clauses are set off by commas)

Notes on #9

The bittersweet flavor of youth—its trials, its joys, its adventures, its challenges—is not soon forgotten.

A common blunder is the use of a singular verb form in a relative clause following ‘one of…’ or a similar expression when the relative is the subject.

One of the ablest scientists who have attached this problem…

Use a singular verb after each, either, everyone, everybody, neither, nobody, someone. (p. 10)

Use a singular or a plural verb after “none” depending on if the thing meant is singular or plural.

None are so fallible as those who are sure they are right.

A compound subject formed of two or more nouns joined by and almost always requires a plural verb.

The walrus and the carpenter were walking close at hand.

Compound subjects qualified by each or every.
Clichés—The long and short of it is…

Note: A singular subject remains singular even if other nouns are connected to it by with, as well as, in addition to, except, together with, and no less than.

His speech as well as his manner is objectionable.

A linking verb agrees with the number of its subject. (p. 11)

The trouble with truth is its many varieties.

Some nouns that appear to be plural are usually construed as singular and given a singular verb. (p. 11)

The Republican Headquarters is on this side of the tracks.

In these cases, the writer must simply learn the idioms.

The contents of a book is singular.
The contents of a jar may be singular or plural depending on the content of the jar.

Notes on # 10: Use the proper case of pronoun.

Give this work to whoever looks idle.

Whoever is the subject of looks idle; the object of the preposition to is the entire clause whoever looks idle. When who introduces a subordinate clause, its case depends on its function in that clause. (p. 11)
Very exciting stuff at the bottom of p. 11.

Virgil is the candidate who we think will win. [We think he will win.]

Virgil is the candidate whom we hope to elect. [We hope to elect him.]

The objective case is correct in the following examples.

The ranger offered Shirley and him some advice on campsites.

They came to meet the Baldwins and us.

Let’s talk it over between us, then, you and me.

Gerunds (verbs that have transformed into nouns with –ing or –ed) usually require the possessive case. (p. 13)

Mother objected to our driving on the icy roads.

A present participle as a verbal takes the objective case.

Do you mind me asking a question? (Is the objection to me as opposed to other members of the group.)

Do you mind my asking a question? (The issue is whether a question may be asked at all.)

Notes on # 11

Walking slowly down the road, he saw a woman accompanied by two children. (Walking refers to the subject of the sentence. “He” was doing the walking.)

General Notes
Briefer writing is more forcible. More forcible writing is better. (p. 6)
Colons: The colon has more effect than the comma, less power than the semicolon, and more formality than the dash. (p. 8)

Elementary Principles of Composition

  1. Choose a suitable design and hold to it.
  2. Make the paragraph the unit of composition.
  3. Use the active voice.
  4. Put statements in positive form.
  5. Use definite, specific, concrete language.
  6. Omit needless words.
  7. Avoid a succession of loose sentences.
  8. Express coordinate ideas in similar form.
  9. Keep related words together.
  10. In summaries, keep to one tense.
  11. Place the emphatic words of a sentence at the end.

An Approach to Style

  1. Place yourself in the background.
  2. Write in a way that comes naturally.
  3. Work from a suitable design.
  4. Write with nouns and verbs.
  5. Revise and rewrite.
  6. Do not overwrite.
  7. Do not overstate.
  8. Avoid the use of qualifiers.
  9. Do not affect a breezy manner.
  10. Use orthodox spelling.
  11. Do not explain too much.
  12. Do not construct awkward adverbs.
  13. Make sure the reader knows who is speaking.
  14. Avoid fancy words.
  15. Do not use dialect unless your ear is good.
  16. Be clear.
  17. Do not inject opinion.
  18. Use figures of speech sparingly.
  19. Do not take shortcuts at the cost of clarity.
  20. Avoid foreign languages.
  21. Prefer the standard to the offbeat.

Glossary (abridged)
Adjectival modifier—A word, phrase, or clause that acts as an adjective in qualifying the meaning of a noun or pronoun. Your country; a turn-of-the-century style; people who are always late.

Adjective—A word that modifies, quantifies, or otherwise describes a noun or pronoun. Drizzly November; midnight dreary; only requirement.

Adverb—A word that modifies or otherwise qualifies a verb, an adjective, or another adverb. Gestures gracefully; exceptionally quiet engine.

Adverbial phrase—A phrase that functions as an adverb. Landon laughs with abandon.

Agreement—The correspondence of a verb with its subject in person and number (Karen goes to Cal Tech; her sisters go to UCLA), and of a pronoun with its antecedent in person, number, and gender (As soon as Karen finished the exam, she picked up her books and left the room.)

Alliteration—The repetition of consonant letter sounds.

Antecedent—The noun to which a pronoun refers. A pronoun and its antecedent must agree in person, number, and gender. Michael and his teammates moved off campus.

Appositive—A noun or noun phrase that renames or adds identifying information to a noun it immediately follows. His brother, an accountant with Arthur Andersen, was recently promoted.

Articles—The words a, an, and the, which signal or introduce nouns. The definite article the refers to a particular item: the report. The indefinite articles a and an refer to a general item or one not already mentioned: an apple.

Auxiliary verb—A verb that combines with the main verb to show differences in tense, person, and voice. The most common auxiliaries are forms of be, do, and have. I am going; we did not go; they have gone.

Case—The form of a noun or pronoun that reflects its grammatical function in a sentence as subject (they), object (them), or possessor (their). She gave her employees a raise that pleased them greatly.

Clause—A group of related words that contains a subject and predicate. Moths swarm around a burning candle. While she was taking the test, Karen muttered to herself.

Colloquialism—A word or expression appropriate to informal conversation but not usually suitable for academic or business writing. They wanted to get even (instead of they wanted to retaliate).

Complement—A word or phrase (especially a noun or adjective) that completes the predicate. Subject complements complete linking verbs and rename or describe the subject: Martha is my neighbor. She seems shy. Object complements complete transitive verbs by describing or renaming the direct object: They found the play exciting. Robert considers Mary a wonderful wife.

Compound sentence—Two or more independent clauses joined by a coordinating conjunction, a correlative conjunction, or a semicolon. Caesar conquered Gaul, but Alexander the Great conquered the world.

Compound subject—Two or more simple subjects joined by a coordinating or correlative conjunction. Hemingway and Fitzgerald had little in common.

Conjunction—A word that joins words, phrases, clauses, or sentences. The coordinating conjunctions, and, but, or nor, yet, so, for, join grammatically equivalent elements. Correlative conjunctions (both, and; either, or; neither, nor) join the same kinds of elements.

Contraction—A shortened form of a word or group of words; can’t for cannot; they’re for they are.

Dependent clause—A group of words that includes a subject and verb but is subordinate to an independent clause in a sentence. Dependent clauses begin with either a subordinating conjunction, such as if, because, since, or a relative pronoun, such as who, which, that. When it gets dark, we’ll find a restaurant that has music.

Diction—Choice of words and phrases in speaking and writing.

Direct object—A noun or pronoun that receives the action of a transitive verb. Pearson publishes books.

Gerund—The -ing form of a verb that functions as a noun: Hiking is a good exercise. She was praised for her playing.

Hyperbole—a figure of speech in which exaggeration is used for emphasis or effect. I could sleep for a year.

Indefinite pronoun—A pronoun that refers to an unspecified person (anybody) or thing (something).

Independent clause—A group or words with a subject and verb that can stand alone as a sentence. Raccoons steal food.

Indirect object—A noun or pronoun that indicates to whom or for whom, to what or for what the action of a transitive verb is performed. I asked her a question. Ed gave the door a kick.

Infinitive/split infinitive—In the present tense, a verb phrase consisting of to followed by the base form of the verb (to write). A split infinitive occurs when one or more words separate to and the verb (to boldly go).

Intransitive verb—A verb that does not take a direct object. His nerve failed.

Irony—a figure of speech used for emphasis, achieving its effect by saying something different and often the opposite of their literal meaning; an expression or utterance marked by a deliberate contrast between apparent and intended meaning.

Linking verb—A verb that joins the subject of a sentence to its complement. Professor Chapman is a philosophy teacher. They were ecstatic.

Main clause—An independent clause, which can stand alone as a grammatically complete sentence. Grammarians quibble.

Modal auxiliaries—Any of the verbs that combine with the main verb to express necessity (must), obligation (should), permission (may), probability (might), possibility (could), ability (can), or tentativeness (would). Mary might wash the car.

Modifier—A word or phrase that qualifies, describes, or limits the meaning of a word, phrase, or clause. Frayed ribbon, dancing flowers, worldly wisdom.

Nominative pronoun—A pronoun that functions as a subject or a subject complement (complete linking verbs): I, we, you, he, she, it, they, who.

Nonrestrictive modifier—A phrase or clause that does not limit or restrict the essential meaning of the element it modifies. My youngest niece, who lives in Ann Arbor, is a magazine editor.

Noun—A word that names a person, place, thing, or idea. Most nouns have a plural form and a possessive form. Carol; the park, the cup, democracy.

Number—A feature of nouns, pronouns, and a few verbs, referring to singular and plural. A subject and its corresponding verb must be consistent in number; a pronoun should agree in number with its antecedent. A solo flute plays; two oboes join in.

Object—The noun or pronoun that completes a prepositional phrase or the meaning of a transitive verb. Frost offered his audience a poetic performance they would likely never forget.

Participial phrase—A present or past participle with accompanying modifiers, objects, or complements. The buzzards, circling with sinister determination, squawked loudly.

Participle—A verbal that functions as an adjective. Present participles end in -ing (brimming); past participles typically end in -d or -ed (injured), or -en (broken) but may appear in other forms (brought, been, gone).

Phrase—A group of related words that functions as a unit but lacks a subject, verb, or both. Without the resources to continue.

Possessive—The case of nouns and pronouns that indicates ownership or possession (Harold’s, ours, mine).

Predicate—The verb and its related words in a clause or sentence. The predicate expresses what the subject does, experiences, or is. Birds fly. The party goers celebrated wildly for a long time.

Preposition—A word that relates its object (a noun, pronoun, or -ing verb form) to another word in the sentence. She is the leader of our group. We opened the door by picking the lock. She went out the window.

Prepositional phrase—A group of words consisting of a preposition, its object, and any of the object’s modifiers. Georgia on my mind.

Pronominal possessive—Possessive pronouns such as hers, its, and theirs.

Proper noun—The name of a particular person (Frank Sinatra), place (Boston), or thing (Moby Dick). Proper nouns are capitalized. Common nouns name classes of people (singers), places (cities), or thing (books) and are not capitalized.

Relative clause—A clause introduced by a relative pronoun, such as who, which, that, or by a relative adverb, such as where, when, why.

Relative pronoun—A pronoun that connects a dependent clause to a main clause in a sentence: who, whom, whose, which, that, what, whoever, whomever, whichever, and whatever.

Repetition—Repeating words for no good reason, redundancy.

Restrictive term, element, clause—A phrase or clause that limits the essential meaning of the sentence element it modifies or identifies. Professional athletes who perform exceptionally should earn stratospheric salaries. Since there are no commas before and after the italicized clause, the italicized clause is restrictive and suggests that only those athletes who perform exceptionally are entitled to such salaries. If commas were added before who and after exceptionally, the clause would be nonrestrictive and would suggest that all professional athletes should receive stratospheric salaries.

Sentence fragment—A group of words that is not grammatically a complete sentence but is punctuated as one: Because it mattered greatly.

Style—The mode or manner of expression, as distinct from content.

Subject—The noun or pronoun that indicates what a sentence is about, and which the principal verb of a sentence elaborates. The new Steven Spielberg movie is a box office hit.

Subordinate clause—A clause dependent on the main clause in a sentence. After we finish our work, we will go out for dinner.

Syntax—The order or arrangement of words in a sentence. Syntax may exhibit parallelism (I came, I saw, I conquered), inversion (Whose woods these are I think I know), or other formal characteristics.

Tense—The time of a verb’s action or state of being, such as past, present, or future. Saw, see, will see.

Transition—A word or group of words that aids coherence in writing by showing the connections between ideas. William Carlos Williams was influenced by the poetry of Walt Whitman. Moreover, Williams’s emphasis on the present and the immediacy of the ordinary represented a rejection of the poetic stance and style of his contemporary T.S. Eliot. In addition, William’s poetry…

Transitive verb—A verb that requires a direct object to complete its meaning: They washed their new car. An intransitive verb does not require an object to complete its meaning: The audience laughed. Many verbs can be both: The wind blew furiously. My car blew a gasket.

Verb—A word or group of words that expresses the action or indicates the state of being of the subject.