I doubt I’m the only person who has a collection of books on grammar and word usage, and I certainly hope I’m not the only one who reads them for pleasure. There are a huge number out there and, of course, some are better than others. Some are more accessible, some are more entertaining, some are dry, some are vivid . . . and then some are the kinds of tomes you prop under a two-year old so they can reach the kitchen table. Ultimately, though, the book I keep coming back to–and the only user’s guide I keep within finger’s reach at my desk–is The Elements of Style by William Strunk, Jr. and E.B. White.

It’s been a classic for so long. Literally generations have read through this book. It’s hard to mentally separate the authors’ names. In fact, the book is actually a 1959 revision by E.B. White of William Strunk’s 1918 original. It’s even been parodied, in 2007’s Spunk and Bite by Arthur Plotnik, and how often does a grammar book get that distinction?

I think that the reason this one is such a classic is because the writing is perfectly clear, the advice is solid, and it’s easy to find what you need. The Chicago Manual of Style, for example, is even more authoritative, but it’s huge and filled with almost too much detail. Lynne Truss’s Eat, Shoots, and Leaves and Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird are both wonderful books that are both informative and entertaining, but not quite so useful as reference books.

Now, Strunk and White (as it’s commonly called) is quite strict about some of its rules: don’t end sentences with a preposition, never start one with a conjunction, don’t split an infinitive. All rules (or suggestions) which common usage mostly lets slip these days. (How many non-writers do you know who even know what an infinitive is?) Its reputation is almost stodgy. A long list of rules and commands by two old, old men, you might think . . . and then you open it and start to read.

Now, it’s not a “readable” book in the same, conversational way of Truss and Lamotts’ books, but the quality of the writing is superb. E.B. White stresses simplicity in your writing, the importance of keeping your sentences crisp and active, and even in his explanations about when to use “lie” or “lay,” you can absolutely see the point. Who among us wouldn’t want to write as cleanly and vividly as E.B. White?

Then, of course, there’s the old adage that you need to know the rules to be able to break them. This should sound familiar because it seems to be one of my favorite themes. A writer can play with these rules, though, just as e.e. cummings played with capitalization, or Kent Haruf plays with quotation marks around his dialogue. It’s not that they did not know the rules, it’s that they chose to ignore them for effect. As Mr. Strunk and Mr. White say, “Style takes its final shape more from attitudes of mind than from principles of composition, for, as an elderly practitioner once remarked, ‘Writing is an act of faith, not a trick of grammar.’”

And that’s the point. Strunk and White is possibly the very best place you can learn the rules.

I talked last time about the importance of style and substance working together to make you look as good as you really are–to back up your knowledge with an assured, confident style in order to be convincing. I’ve also talked rather grandiosely–if not absurdly–about punctuation and punctuality as the basis for civilization itself.

That is an absurd concept, I admit it. Or at least, it sounds like an absurd concept.

Is it, though?

Humans are the only species known to communicate with a series of ordered sounds that define actual language. Other species have their own forms of communication–barks, howls, whimpers, not to mention body language–and I would never imply that they do not share information with each other. No pack of hunting wolves is going to target the exact
same sheep without some form of communication about “that one over there,” but I wouldn’t call it a language in the classic sense. (”Communication of thoughts and feelings through a system of arbitrary signals, such as voice sounds, gestures, or written symbols.”)

Then, even if wolves, dolphins, apes, elephants, and parrots truly are speaking, I’ve never seen any evidence of them ever writing anything down. No shopping lists. (”Get some more bananas while you’re out, would you dear?”) No history. No pictograms on cave walls. The written language is solely human. There are signs of “proto-writing” as early as the 4th millenium B.C., and the concept of the alphabet goes back as far as the 8th century B.C. Twenty-eight hundred years of shopping lists and business inventory. Millenia of love letters, philosophy, educational texts.

Punctuation came later, an aid to reading aloud. (”Inhale here.”) Spelling standards have been in place for centuries. These have themselves evolved into a firm structure of rules and standards which make it possible for us humans to communicate across both miles and years. Which, when you think about it, is a breath-taking accomplishment, the most astounding time-travel trick in our entire history.

So, clearly, the concept of a system of language and writing has been evolving for quite some time. Yet, of late, how many cryptic, poorly-punctuated notes have you gotten? “C U L8er,” for example. The more or less constant misuse of the word “it’s” as the possessive form. The apparent impossibility of anyone to remember which form of “there” should be used at any given moment.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say that this means civilization is collapsing. That would be silly. But doesn’t it seem equally silly arbitrarily to toss away standards that have been millennia in the making?

Will correct punctuation save the world? Well, no, of course not. Neither will everyone showing up on time to their appointments. But it certainly couldn’t hurt.

Welcome to the first installment of the weekly category, “Mangled Monday.” Here, each week, we will address some kind of commonly misused rule–spelling, punctuation, basic courtesy–whatever, as the whim strikes.

Today, it’s all about “its.” A simple little word that seems to cause lots of confusion.

Really, it’s very simple.

“It’s” is a contraction of two words, “It is.”

“Its” is the possessive form, used for things like, “The table lost its leg.”

I grant you that the apostrophe followed by an “S” is commonly used to denote possession, as in, “The table’s leg.” However, this is one of the many little quirks of the English language we’ve all come to know and love, because an apostrophe-S is also used to abbreviate the verb “to be,” as in, “He’s coming to the door right now.”

The simple rule of thumb?

If you are trying to say “it is,” you’re combining two words and must use the apostrophe. It helps hold them together, taking the place of the “i.” If you squint a little, it almost looks like a short, little “i,” don’t you think? (Okay, maybe not, but work with me here.)

If you are trying to express possession, you do not use the apostrophe, any more than you would when saying “hers” or “his.” Those three–his, hers, its–are like family and share the same spelling rule.

Appearance isn’t quite everything.Our modern world may appear to be quite superficial, at a glance. First impressions are key. The old saw, “You only have one chance to make a first impression,” is just as true as it ever was. There are entire industries based on helping people figure out what to wear, how to present themselves. Of course, nobody needs to be told that there are plenty of people out there who are all about the impression they make–People who drive status-automobiles, own huge houses, dress to the nines, all that.

Ultimately, though, presentation–whether it’s showy, professional, casual, fun, serious–is just the beginning. A first impression can’t hide the true essence forever. Have you ever seen an incredibly attractive person you couldn’t wait to meet, but who, after a 5 minute conversation, you couldn’t wait to leave? Good looks can only get you so far.

Style and Substance need to go hand in hand to be truly impressive. A website can have all the classy, elegant style it needs to make a fabulous impression upon first click, but if the author can’t string two complete sentences together without misspellings and grammatical errors, the damage to the “impression” is going to be irreparable. Is it vital that every word you write be perfect, every punctuation mark exactly placed, every grammatical rule followed? Well, no, not exactly. We all
use prepositions at the end of sentences from time to time (starting a sentence with “and” is one of my personal favorite rules to ignore), but you can generally tell the difference between someone who knows what they’re doing and makes an occasional error and someone who doesn’t have a clue.

The important thing is to be able to back up your first impression. If you want to come across as smart and authoritative in whatever field you’re in, you need to show that you have the goods. To show that you have not just the expertise needed to make money, train a dog, cook a meal, but that you can present those ideas in such a way that your readers will believe you. It’s a paradoxical truth that, to be taken seriously, you need to show that you’re serious. You may have all the knowledge in the world, but if you sound like an uneducated hick, who’s ever going to believe you? One misspelling isn’t necessarily going to ruin an entire sales pitch, wouldn’t your readers be more likely to believe someone who sounds like they know what they’re doing, rather than someone who sounds like they just fell off the turnip truck?

I know I would.

This blog is called “Punctuality Rules” for a couple of reasons. One, the name is a play on the word “punctuation.” Originally I had thought to just write about writing, grammar and spelling . . . to address that “its/it’s” and “there/their/they’re” issues once and for all, if only for my own satisfaction.

But then I thought about the true meaning of “punctuality.”

“Punctual” is defined as “(1) Acting or arriving exactly at the time appointed; prompt. (2) Paid or accomplished at or by the appointed time. (3) Precise; exact. (4) Confined to or having the nature of a point in space.”

Punctuality is not just about making meetings on time, but about being exact. It’s about doing what needs to be done at exactly the time it should be done. To me, that’s an issue that transcends mere punctuation. That ripples right out into the real world. Doing what is right, and doing it precisely. When you have everybody doing exactly that, well, it seems to me that that’s more or less the foundation of basic civility . . . and civilization itself.

Not, of course, to hang too much weight around the neck of this little, fledgling blog, but I don’t think I can be the only one who considers these things to be important, or who finds “common courtesy” a little less common than it should be. There is a place for rules, and there is a time for throwing caution to the winds and ignoring the rules . . . but don’t you need to know them in the first place? As much as I enjoy experimenting when I cook, for example, I almost always cook a recipe as
directed the very first time. It’s not until the next time that I start playing. “It was a little bland last time, too watery, not enough nutmeg.”

To flaunt the rules, you need to know them in the first place; otherwise, it’s just acting out of sheer ignorance, and where’s the glamour in that?

Therefore, “Punctuality Rules” is also a play on the use of the word “rules“–serving double purpose as both a discussion of the basic rules, but also in the affirmative vernacular sense of “it rules!” used to celebrate the best. This is not because the rules of punctuation and good behavior are the most important thing around–even I would hesitate to claim that–but because, if we’re talking about basic civility here . . . don’t we all deserve the best civilization we can manage?