Diary of a Word Nerd

When to Use I or Me

Posted on March 24, 2017 by Julia Tomiak / 3 Comments

Whew! Sorry it’s been a while since I posted on the blog. Little things like taxes and late night soccer games have interfered with my schedule and sleeping pattern, with some frustrating results. But I’m back today to share another Word Nerdy tip inspired by my last post, How to Use the Pronoun Myself.

Not only are a lot of people confused about when to use “myself”, they are also uncertain about when to use “I” or “me”, especially if there is more than one person/noun/subject in the sentence. For example,

Dad gave Percy and I some money.

That sounds right, doesn’t it? But actually, it’s not correct grammar. Let me explain.

Personal Pronouns

Pronouns take the place of a noun, and personal pronouns come in two forms, subjective and objective.

Subjective pronouns (I, we) represent the subject of the sentence- the thing that is doing something. The two we use for first person are I for one or we for multiple people. For example,

I washed the car. (I is the subject of the sentence.)
We went to the movie. (We is the subject.)

Objective pronouns (me, us) represent something acted upon by the subject of the sentence, and for first person they are me and us.

Dad gave us money. (Dad (subject) is giving us(object) something.)
The bee stung me. (The bee (subject) hurt me (object).)

We get confused when a sentence has two or more subjects. For example, should we say “Tammy and I went to the mall” or “Tammy and me went to the mall”?

It’s also easy to get confused when there are two objects, as in “Dad gave Percy and I some money”. This sounds right, and often people choose to use “I” because it sounds more formal. But Percy and I are the objects of this sentence; Dad is the subject. (He’s the one giving out money.) Therefore, we should use the objective pronoun, or me/us.

The trick for choosing I or Me

Now that we’ve established the cause for confusion, how do we fix it? I like to substitute we or us and see what sounds right. For example:

Tammy and I went to the mall OR Me and Tammy went to the mall.
Substitute-> We went to the mall OR Us went to the mall.

We is clearly the right choice, and since it’s the subjective form of the pronoun, I know I need to use I.

Dad gave me and Percy some money OR Dad gave Percy and I some money.
Substitute -> Dad gave us some money OR Dad gave we some money.

Us sounds better, so I know that I should use “me and Percy” in the sentence, as they are the objects of the sentence.

I hope this little trick helps! Thanks to Grammatically Correct by Anne Stilman for reference info.

Word Nerd Workout

Tell me if each sentence is grammatically correct and why or why not. Try the we/us substitution trick if you’re not sure.

Sherlock gave Watson and I two minutes to search the room.
Preston and I went to Dairy Queen for ice cream.
Donald told me and Carson to choose a seat at the table.

What other grammar issues confuse you? I’m happy to help.

Improving grammar

How to Use the Pronoun “Myself”

Posted on March 10, 2017 by Julia Tomiak / 14 Comments

Someone in my house, I won’t give away names, likes to use the pronoun “myself” as a subject. For example, if I ask, “Who was at the meeting?”, he’ll say “Henry, Patrick, and myself.”

This reply always makes me twitch. Although I suspect he’s using myself this way because it’s sounds formal or proper, my Word Nerd intuition tells me it’s grammatically incorrect. I’ve finally done the research to figure it out.

Some tips on reflexive pronouns

Reflexive pronouns end with -self (e.g. myself, yourself, itself). There are, according to my reference manual Grammatically Correct by Anne Stilman, only three situations when we should use reflexive pronouns:

1) When the subject and the object of a sentence are the same and reflect each other:

You take yourself too seriously. (subject = you, object of the verb take = yourself)
He spoke critically of himself (subject = he; object = himself)
The radio turned itself off. (subject = radio; object of turned = itself)

2) When you need to clarify that the subject did something alone or without help:

She did all the laundry herself.
I can’t line the fields by myself.
Can’t you talk to him yourself?

3) When the pronoun emphasizes another word. (Then it has the fancy title of “intensive pronoun”)

I myself would never do that at work.
Patrick himself has no idea where he left his phone.
I insist on speaking to the doctor himself.

So, when I ask, “Who was at the meeting?”, the proper answer would be, “Henry, Patrick, and I.”

Word Nerd Workout

Choose the correct word for each sentence below:

Stacey and (I/myself) went to the movies on Saturday.
The doctor spoke directly to Bill and (me/myself).
People tell me I take (me/myself) too seriously.

Thanks for getting nerdy with me.

Who I Am

Why You Shouldn’t Fear Birthdays

Posted on February 28, 2017 by Julia Tomiak / 6 Comments

Today is my 46th birthday. I won’t lie, the occasion strikes a bit of concern, especially as my vision has grown noticeably worse just in the past two weeks. Even with multi-focal contact lenses, I must squint and strain to read labels in the grocery store, and yesterday I finally caved and set the text on my iPhone to a larger size. And then there’s the fact that it has taken me over a year to recover from a hamstring strain. 🙁

Conversations with my friends these days often revolve around health issues, like how I can expect my metabolism to slow to a near halt as I approach 50 and how arthritis might pop up in my hand joints. However, as I discuss knee replacements and shoulder surgery with my contemporaries, I realize I have quite a bit to be thankful for.

We had a very serious scare last fall: a close family member near my age suffered a ruptured brain aneurysm and spent two frightening weeks in the ICU. She has had a truly miraculous recovery, but it’s caused big changes in her life and a sobering realization for me: there are no guarantees. Every day, including every birthday, should be spent not mourning what I’ve lost but celebrating what I still have.

In the powerful novel Code Name Verity, by Elizabeth Wein, one of the main characters is a spy who is captured and tortured by Germans during WWII. As she approaches her eminent execution, she says something I think all people who traditionally mourn birthdays after 30 should hear.

I am no longer afraid of getting old. Indeed I can’t believe I ever said anything so stupid. So childish. So offensive and arrogant.
But mainly, so very, very stupid. I desperately want to grow old.

Growing old, my friends, beats the alternative.

The birthday cake my daughter made for me.

I love working with teens, and in the past I’ve had a habit of saying to them, “Don’t get old, it stinks.” But the right advice, the thing I will say from now on, is, “Love yourself and take care of your body, because hopefully you will need it for a long time.”

I’m 46, firmly planted in middle age, with wrinkles spreading around my eyes and hands that look more like my mom’s than my own. But that’s okay. Because I’m here, with good health, a wonderful family, and dear friends. With the right habits and God’s blessing, I will be for many more years.

If you’re one who usually sees birthdays as a cause for dismay, will you please join me in celebrating the gift that each day, and each year, brings, even if wrinkles come along for the ride?

Thanks for stopping by!

Book reviews

What I Liked (and Didn’t) About The Nightingale

Posted on February 22, 2017 by Julia Tomiak / 9 Comments

I know, you’ve read enough WWII novels, but The Nightingale takes an approach I haven’t seen before, showing how women resisted the Nazis in occupied France. It’s a good “girl power” story. 😉

Premise

Sisters Vianne and Isabelle approach life differently. When their mother dies, their father, emotionally devastated by WWI, abandons them to the care of a cheerless woman in the French countryside. Vianne falls in love and marries young, embracing a quiet rural life, while reckless Isabelle gets herself thrown out of multiple schools, always rebellious and desperate to find the love she didn’t get from her family. As WWII escalates and Nazis take over France, the sisters resist the evil growing around them in ways that fit best with their opposing personalities. The Nightingale is a story of family bonds, broken and reformed, and strength in the face of terrible loss.

What I liked

The narrative alternates between the two sisters, and I liked the juxtaposition of their stories and the different ways they fought against the horrors of the war. Once the story takes off, this alternating narration adds pace and suspense. I also enjoyed reading about the courageous things women did, like leading groups of Allied pilots out of France over the Pyrenees mountains.

I’ve never read a novel about a country occupied by Germany, and it was interesting to learn about what life was like for the French living with German soldiers in their midst. Hannah shows how Nazis manipulated and bullied innocent people into their master plan. For example, French citizens were asked to name their Jewish countrymen before they knew why that would be dangerous. It made me thankful to live in a time when our omniscient social media would make it nearly impossible for hundreds of people to be bused out of Paris to an undisclosed location for unknown reasons.

German soldiers billet in Vianne’s house, one of them a sympathetic character and one of them a monster. I liked how the first one, despite his status as a Nazi officer, displays compassion and concern for Vianne and her family. It is a nice multidimensional depiction of a character in complicated circumstances.

What I didn’t like

The opening chapters, which lay the groundwork for Vianne and Isabelle’s personalities and family dynamic, felt slow. (My fellow book club members suggest getting that early section done in one sitting). Also, as to be expected with a war novel, it was very sad, and things get increasingly worse for a long time before there is a flicker of hope at the end. Hannah’s writing style seems heavy on description and felt slow compared to the quirky and sparse voice of the last novel I read, A Man Called Ove.

Recommendation

For lovers of historical fiction and war stories, The Nightingale is a good pick. However, I prefer All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr for a WWII read. I liked the characters better, there is a more equal depiction of both sides of the war, and All the Light did a great job of detailing the brainwashing and bullying that went on in the Nazi regime. Also, All the Light culminates with riveting chapters from multiple perspectives that made it impossible for me to put the novel down.

Another favorite WWII novel of mine is The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak. It has an unusual style and narrator (Death) which I enjoyed but puts some readers off. I adore the overriding theme of The Book Thief: the power of words and books to bring hope and (literally) save lives.

Notes on content

Hannah does a good job of depicting the horrors of the war without getting too graphic.

If you have you read The Nightingale, what did you think? What are some other books about WWII or war that you would recommend?

Happy reading!

Improving vocabulary/News from book business

Gray or Grey: Which is Correct?

Posted on February 10, 2017 by Julia Tomiak / 8 Comments

What do Lego pieces have to do with spelling? Not much, unless your son is doing a school presentation. Child number four had to teach his classmates “How to Build a Lego Bug”, complete with visual aids. He looked up the proper names for Lego pieces and found things like “2×2 slide plate” and “2×4 brick”. The real dilemma came when he had to write down the color of said plates and bricks.

“Mom, is it g-r-e-y or g-r-a-y?”

Good question son, and one that’s bothered me before, as I have seen both spellings in different places. The Word Nerd did some research.

According to Dictionary.com, gray and grey are adjectives that describe a neutral color between white and black. They can also mean gloomy or dull. Both words come from the Old English graeg, however, the gray spelling is used most often in America and the grey spelling is used more in England. If you need help remembering, think about a for America and e for England.

The EL James novel Fifty Shades of Grey may add to the confusion. Also, comments on the Dictionary.com site suggest that some people prefer one spelling over the other when it’s used for a name. There doesn’t seem to be a style guide for this, just personal preference.

By the way, son and I weren’t the only ones confused. A vocativ.com piece reports that, according to Google data trends, “grey” was a frequently Googled term (for spell checking) in twelve states, including Virginia (my home state), California, Florida, and Illinois.

How do you spell gray, and what is the reason for your spelling?

Thanks for getting nerdy with me!

Who I Am

Do Small Things With Great Love

Posted on February 3, 2017 by Julia Tomiak / 4 Comments

It’s February, and a post about love seems timely, except this isn’t about Valentines or kisses.

Last December, to calm holiday nerves, I assured Word Nerd readers that there was no such thing as a perfect Christmas. Little did I know my words would be prophetic; my holiday was far from perfect.

My aunt, my mother’s oldest and last living sister, died early Christmas morning. The news hit me hard, not just because Christmas is supposed to be happy, but because my mother died when I was 25, and every death I’ve experienced since then reopens the hurt of losing her, especially this one, since it was her sister.

I have many fond memories of my aunt. As a child, I spent weeks during the summer at her house in New Jersey, going to swim lessons with my cousins because my mom was confined to a wheelchair and had no way of getting me to lessons at home. For a few glorious days, I knew what it was like to have siblings and a mom who could drive us to the mall or McDonald’s. I’ll never forget my aunt racing up a hill to the lap pool, holding nose plugs high, delivering them to me just before my final swimming test. (I was just eight, and I needed those plugs. I do fine without them now.)

At my wedding, my aunt took care of my mom so my dad could participate in wedding festivities, like walking me down the aisle. While Mom waited for us to finish taking photos after the ceremony, my aunt stayed by her side, keeping her calm in the July heat.

My mom died before I became a mother, but my aunt attended the baptisms of my children and sent them presents at Christmas. She remembered me on my birthday with beautiful cards and loved to see pictures of my kids as they grew. We didn’t speak often, but I knew she cared and wanted to hold the threads of our family together.

Five years ago, my aunt was diagnosed with cancer and began a series of rigorous treatments with awful side effects. It became my turn to send cards and encouraging words. Again, we didn’t talk often, but I hope she knew I loved her and prayed for her.

So, of course, when she died, I traveled to New Jersey for the funeral. I wanted to be there for her three daughters who are now part of my special club of loved ones who no longer have mothers to guide them in this world. I held it together pretty well until I arrived at the funeral home and saw the pictures my uncle had gathered to commemorate my aunt’s life. There were group shots of my mom, who died in 1995, her younger sister, who died in 1994, her mother, who died in 1999, and of course, my aunt. Seeing their smiles, so long gone, broke me, and it took a long time to pull together again.

My mom, top right, and her two sisters, 1959

My youngest cousin had the difficult job of reading the eulogy. As she recounted her mother’s life, I learned things, like my aunt loved to write but had sacrificed a career in journalism to follow her husband and raise her family. Her pastor spoke of her works of service in her community and her key role in growing her church in its early years. Friends recalled her kindness and willingness to help, and her daughters expressed thanks for her many acts of love. As I listened to this celebration of a life characterized by charity, I felt like my aunt was giving me one last gift, a precious piece of wisdom.

I, too, gave up my career to focus on my family, and I have often struggled with feeling worthless, without professional title or income. But at the funeral, I realized, with a peace and certainty I’ve never had before, that a quiet life, lived in service to strangers and loved ones, is one well lived. All of us, whatever our calling or vocation, are never too big or too small to bring light and kindness into this world.

“Not all of us can do great things. But we can all do small things with great love.” Mother Teresa.

In this season of political change and international instability, we need people like my aunt, to steady and assure us with small acts of love. And all the work can’t be done by other people. I must act as an instrument of kindness every day, no matter my title or income or emotional state.

Will you join me? The world needs us.

Thank you to Amy Makechnie for inspiring this post. Visit her blog for ideas of small things you can do for others. My friend Valerie also has some great ideas for showing love.

Who has been an example of kindness in your life? How do you do small things with great love?