Lie? Lay? Help!
Have I explained lie and lay yet? Don’t stop reading! It’s easier than you think.
All you have to do is remember what my grandmother always said: “Chickens lay. People lie.”
To lie is to assume a horizontal position. And this is the key: It does not take an object. You don’t lie something. You just lie. You lie on the bed, you lie on the floor, you lie on a bench. But you don’t lie an egg.
To lay is to place something on a surface. It takes an object. You lay something somewhere–you lay a book on a desk, you lay a pencil on the book, you lay a paperclip on the pencil. And a chicken lays an egg.
So if you’re doing something to an object, just as the chicken does to an egg–it’s lay.
If there is no egg or equivalent, then it’s lie.
More next week on the complexities of lie and lay!
Read MoreKnow What’s Next
Writing Tip for today: Never stop writing for the day at a spot where you don’t know what will happen next. This will leave you stranded the next morning, sitting at your desk and staring at your paper.
Always know at least what the next sentence will be. Preferably the next paragraph or two. By then your brain will hopefully understand what it’s supposed to be doing and supply paragraphs three, four, and so on.
Read MoreDon’t Dangle
An editor complimented me this week by saying I was the first author she had ever known to fix a dangling participle rather than introduce one. I’m proud.
A dangling participle sounds like some finicky grammar tidbit only a fusspot would worry about, but it’s actually quite simple. It’s all about getting a descriptive phrase (the participle) next to the noun it modifies. If it’s closer to a different noun, it “dangles”–i.e. it’s not securely attached to the right noun.
Like this:
The site of the infamous Mannequin Massacre, Algernon had always been fascinated by Lord Lingleberry’s Tower.
The participle (“the site of the infamous Mannequin Massacre”) appears to describe Algernon rather than Lord Lingleberry’s Tower. It dangles.
Algernon had always been fascinated by Lord Lingleberry’s Tower, the site of the infamous Mannequin Massacre.
Now the participle is securely next to the noun it describes. No more dangling.
Read MoreAffect and Effect and Why We Hate Them
I think this is everybody’s least favorite grammar conundrum–affect or effect?
Granted, it’s annoying…but for the moment there is still a distinction between the two and you’ll look like a super cool style maven if you can remember it.
Here’s the trick:
“Affect” with the A is always a verb (with one exception*) and it always means “change” or “alter.” If you can swap the word in question with “alter,” the one you are after is “affect.” LIKE THIS: “The magical spell affected Eloise in startling new ways, such as her taste for munching on raw mice.”
“Effect” with an E can be a noun, which “affect” cannot. If the word in question is a noun, you want “effect.” LIKE THIS: “The effect of the magical spell was quite noticeable at dinner parties.”
“Effect” with an E can also, alas, be a verb, meaning “to bring about or cause.” LIKE THIS: “Will the magical spell effect a rupture between Eloise and her beloved Antonio?” But please note that this verb cannot be replaced with the verb “alter.” It is therefore “effect” with the E.
So your first question, when confronted with the affect/effect conundrum, is: noun or verb? If it’s a noun, it’s easy: effect. If it’s a verb, can it be replaced with “alter“? If so, “affect.” If not, “effect” again.
* The exception: “affect” is used by psychologists as a noun to mean “appearance or demeanor.” This is something you can ignore unless you are a psychologist.
* Also an exception: “Affect” can also mean “choose to wear or do in a pretentious and silly manner.” LIKE THIS: “Antonio affected a dashing hat with a feather to draw Eloise’s attention.” This is rare and can generally be ignored. If you’re using “affect” like this you presumably know what you’re doing.
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