No, I’m not saying you can’t use the word “that” at all. It’s such a useful word. In fact, I love “that.” It’s so strong and versatile, it can do almost anything.

• It can be a pronoun. (“That‘s my cousin over there.” “I like the bigger painting better than that one.”)

• It can be an adjective. (“I like that color, don’t you?”)

• It can be an adverb. (“My question’s not that important.”

• It comes included with a wide range of handy idioms. (“That is, I meant to call, but…” “I said no, and that’s that!”)

• But, it can also be a conjunction, introducing subordinate clauses, and that’s where “that” gets into trouble. (“I can’t believe that you liked that movie.” “Then I told her that I loved her, and she just stood there.”)

You’re thinking, “Why is that a problem? What’s wrong with that?” (ahem, see? Using “that” is handy.)

The problem is that “that” as a conjunction is often completely unnecessary. Take another look at those two examples, only, remove the word “that.”

• “I can’t believe you liked that movie.”

• “Then I told her I loved her, and she just stood there.”

You don’t even miss it, do you? The sentence is just as clear, just as good … it’s just that much stronger for the lack of “that.”

Why does this matter? It matters because “that” can change from being a strong, useful word to a lazy, flabby filler in a heartbeat.

Let’s look at this random paragraph, shall we?

I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye, either. Not really.” I fumbled with my explanation. “Everything happened so fast, and neither of us expected that the ship would actually go down. It just wasn’t possible, was it? We thought that they were just taking rather extraordinary precautions—not that it was real.” I could not look at their faces, but focused intently on the hall carpet, concentrating on how the blues and reds wove together. “If I had realized that I would never see him again, I would have . . . I don’t know. Said something more? Acted differently? Told him that I loved him one more time?”

“That” makes five appearances in this paragraph, and so far as I’m concerned, only one of them is at all necessary. Do you see which one?

I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye, either. Not really.” I fumbled with my explanation. “Everything happened so fast, and neither of us expected the ship would actually go down. It just wasn’t possible, was it? We thought they were just taking rather extraordinary precautions—not that it was real.” I could not look at their faces, but focused intently on the hall carpet, concentrating on how the blues and reds wove together. “If I had realized I would never see him again, I would have . . . I don’t know. Said something more? Acted differently? Told him I loved him one more time?”

This is my new hobby. That-hunting. I find that, now that I am looking for it, I use it way more often than is necessary. It isn’t incorrect, mind you, just … unnecessary. And since good writing is tight, lean, flab-free writing … why would you use words you don’t need?

We live in a society that adores multi-tasking. We watch television while we cook. We listen to the radio (or MP3s, or DVDs, or CDs, or whatever) while we drive. We talk on the phone while we iron. We text while walking the dog. We read while we brush our teeth … (or, is that just me?) We dart back and forth between windows on our computer screens, checking emails, sending tweets, while also writing blog posts, reading message boards, and keeping an eye on the news on the television in the corner. Not to mention answering questions, watching the kids, throwing balls for the dog, running errands…

It’s rare to sit and do ONE thing any more.

Even when you’re doing something that should exclude other activities, it’s hard to focus. When I shower each day, my mind is running over problems. You would think I’d be concentrating on the water, the soap, and not slipping and falling, but no. I watch television while I knit, rather than focusing on what my hands are doing. I check email while talking on the telephone instead of giving my full attention to the person on the other end.

Well, last night, our power went out.

Only for an hour or so, but it left me sitting in a dark room, with a candle, and the choice of straining my eyes trying to read or knit in the dim light, or opening up my netbook and writing. (I have to say, I DO love the battery power of my little netbook. It really does last for 8+ hours.)

I picked the writing, and I have to tell you. A miracle happened.

Sitting in a dark room with nothing to see except the computer screen? And, since the family’s wireless router doesn’t work without electricity, without the distraction of the internet? None of the usual, “That was a great couple of paragraphs, so I’ll reward myself by checking my email.” Nothing to distract me at ALL except to reach over and pet my dog from time to time. (The blackout spooked him, everything was so DARK.)

Well, it was amazing. I had no choice but to focus, and surprisingly, I actually remembered how.

Because the flip side of being able to DO so many things all the time, all at once, is that our collective attention span is getting shorter all the time. I used to be able to sit with a homework assignment and a notebook for at least an hour and really FOCUS on that one thing, but I’ve lost that. These days, the only thing that gets that level of concentration from me is, sadly, not writing, but reading. Hand me a book I haven’t read before and I’ll do nothing else for however many hours it takes, but anything else? Nope. Can’t do it anymore. True, it’s been 20 years since I’ve been out of school, and minds wander more as they get older. (My theory on that is that, since the legs are getting wearier, the mind decides to travel more on its own. Why should the mind AND the body be stuck in one place?)

Mostly, though, it’s that pesky modern living thing that’s causing the trouble. We’re so linked-in, connected, and intertwined and busy ALL the time, none of us has had to focus on any one thing for more than 5 minutes in over a decade. Sure, there are still professions that require absolute focus–you don’t want your brain surgeon stopping midway through a procedure to tweet about his lunch–but in general, we’re losing our ability to do just one thing at a time and do it really well.

Am I the only one this bothers?

I’ve decided I’m going to try to focus more.

• I’m going to try to forget the internet exists when I sit down to write–no checking emails between sentences!

• I’m going to try to limit my time on social media distractions. They’re good, they’re important, they’re fun, but they’re time-sucks, and worse, they’re attention-suckers. When part of my brain is whining, “What’s happening on Twitter?” while I try to do, well, anything, that’s counter-productive. So I’ll try to put restrictions on that kind of stuff.

• I’m going to leave the television off more often. I used to leave it off entirely unless there was something I wanted to watch, but I’ve gotten into the habit of putting it on in the background, which is much too distracting.

• I’m going to try knitting and spinning in a quiet room for a change, just to see if that helps me regain some focus, like a training exercise. If I can relearn how to focus on the one thing I am doing, maybe it will be easier when I’m sitting in front of the computer, too.

How’s that for a start? What suggestions do you have? Am I the only one struggling with this?

As much as it kills me to admit it, sometimes the best salesmanship doesn’t involve any words at all. This ad just about kills me, it’s so perfect.

I’m a bad writer.

I don’t mean that I write badly. You can disagree, of course, but I don’t have any real doubts about my writing ability. My ability to string words into sentences, sentences into paragraphs, is pretty reliable. I have weaknesses, but even in unfamiliar writing territory, I always believe that I can fight my way through and find the words I need.

No, I’m a bad writer because there are times when I’d rather let someone else do it.

It’s not that I want other writers to do my work for me. It’s that sometimes I get so sucked in by reading other people’s work in a book, or watching it performed that, frankly, I can’t pull myself out of their stories to write my own. And, this last week, with some of my favorite TV shows having their season finales–not to mention a new episode of my favorite show, NBC’s Chuck–I’ve gotten sucked into watching television while goofing off on Twitter rather than focusing on assembling paragraphs for your entertainment and edification.

But, by the end of the night, I’m regretting the loss of precious time and scolding myself like a dog caught with a stolen slipper. “Bad writer! Bad, bad writer! Look at all the time you wasted!”

Does this make me a bad writer? Or just a lazy one?

This is the question. Many of us started writing in the first place because we enjoyed reading so much and wanted to tell our own stories. Or we were so good at being persuasive we naturally segued into putting it on paper (or on computer screens). Or writing was a way to make a buck, and reading just became part of the preparation necessary to write a good article.

There are lots of reasons to spend some time with other people’s writing.

Education: You have to know the rules, and the fastest, most painless way to learn them is to see them in action. If you read advertently, you can not only pick up the rules of grammar, but also how a sentence should flow, when to use adjectives, which verbs are active and which are passive, how to end a chapter or a sales letter … you get the idea. Watching a master at work is almost as good as working yourself. When you pay attention, you can pick up all sorts of tips–even if what you’re watching is a light-hearted, spy-story television episode.

Inspiration: Reading good quality writing can only help improve yours, by making you aware of what is possible, so that you want to achieve that level too. When you surround yourself with things to aspire to, you naturally gravitate to that level. If you start eating at five-star restaurants, you’re going to be unsatisfied by throwing a piece of pizza in your microwave for dinner. If you see enough stunning, perfect photographs, you’re not going to be happy with your careless snapshots. If your neighbors all have perfect, beautiful yards, you’re going to want to do a little more than just keep your lawn kind of sort of mostly hacked down to pre-jungle heights. You don’t have to have Bill Gates’ bank account to appreciate the finer things in life … and, luckily, even the best writing is cheap to come by. It’s what they say that is priceless.

Relaxation: Sometimes, all you really want to do is relax. You don’t want to think about the work you need to do, or about deadlines, or how to make the best way to replant an African Violet sound interesting. You want someone else to do the heavy lifting for a change. Somebody else can provide the story and plot, depth and twists for a change. You just want to sit back and enjoy the ride. There’s no shame in this. Everyone deserves some R&R once in a while.

And while there are some books/movies/tv shows that are never going to wow you with their writing, there are many that WILL. And I’m not just talking about the elitist kinds that have the prestigious awards in their sights. Nobody ever said “quality” had to be boring. Or that “entertaining” had to be a waste of your time. If curling up with a romance novel or a silly television sitcom makes you happy, do it. Just remember that the ones that are really good are good because (1) the writing works for them and, (2) they know exactly who their audience is.

You can’t be a good writer if you can’t focus and write.

The trick, I keep telling myself, is that it’s fine to do this sort of goofing off once in a while, but it’s a bad, dangerous habit on a regular basis. The internet, especially, is a persuasive place and it can be a huge time-suck, distracting you in the most pleasant way possible from doing what you need to do.

So, having let myself be pulled completely out of focus the last few nights … Am I a bad writer?

Though, luckily, I can redeem myself in my own eyes by reclaiming my focus and … writing.

Isn’t that what YOU should be doing right now?

It’s National Grammar Day again … and, really, one which can be celebrated by any nationality. And what better way than to sing the theme song?

“March Forth: The Grammar Song”