Pesky Participles - #AmEditing #WritingCraft #Grammar

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When I’m reading, editing or critiquing others’ work, improperly deployed participles are a pet peeve. I’m utterly incapable of ignoring them. Other readers notice comma confusions, tangled tenses, or missing modifiers. They might be especially sensitive to excessive alliteration. I can sail past a lot of nits without noticing, but an incorrectly constructed participle modifier will jump out at me like raincoat-clad pervert from behind a tree.

I know grammatical terms make a lot of people wince, so let me give you some examples from recent reads:

a) No longer aware of her physical surroundings, uncaring of the others watching them, he had become her world.

b) Nearly blinded, instinctively, Callie's hand went for the gun in her purse.

c) Measuring the length of his dick still waiting to ravage her burning cunt, Nina's eyes flew open.

Here are a few simpler, synthetic examples:

d) Panting with excitement, her heart pounded like a bass drum in her chest.

e) Entering the room unannounced, Joel’s attention flew to the naked woman sprawled on the couch.

f) Silenced by embarrassment, my cheeks flushed bright red.

I know some of you are probably thinking: What’s the problem? These are perfectly fine sentences. The meaning is crystal clear.

I beg to differ. The author’s intent is clear in most cases. However, if you apply the conventional rules of English to interpreting these sentences, you end up drawing some strange, even nonsensical conclusions. Silent cheeks? A blinded hand?

The complexities of English grammatical structures are the bane of many. There are dozens of different ways to express the same idea. A single sentence may consist of many clauses as well as modifying phrases.

In the face of this complexity, we fall back on the principle of proximity. When you have a modifier, that is, a phrase that describes some entity in the main clause of the sentence, we assume that the modifier is describing the subject of the main clause, which normally follows right after the modifier.

If the modifier is a participle (that is, a verb turned into an adjective by adding “ing” or “ed”), it is assumed that the implied subject of this verb is the subject of the following clause.

Here’s the crux of the issue in the ungrammatical sentences above. If we follow this convention in our interpretation, the results are silly or confusing.

In a), both the adjective (“no longer aware”) and participle (“uncaring”) modifiers clearly have a female subject. Yet the subject of the main clause is “he” - not the person who’s “uncaring”.

In b) the conventional rules would indicate that Callie’s hand was blinded.

Example c) is a bit more nuanced, since Nina’s eyes might well be what she used to estimate the length of her partner’s cock. More likely though, the true subject of “measuring” is Nina herself – not her eyes as suggested by the interpretation rules.

The three synthetic examples make the problem more obvious. In each case, the real subject is a person, while the implied subject is a part or aspect of the person.

Now at this point, you might be thinking: who cares?

Well, that’s your right. However, when I encounter this sort of ungrammatical construction, even in an otherwise well-written story, I cringe. Furthermore, my opinion of the author’s skill declines a bit. Perhaps that’s not fair, but I expect serious authors to be conscious of the rules of the language – implicitly if not explicitly.

Elitist? Maybe. However, I can’t help my reactions. I suspect I’m not the only reader who feels this way.

So – assuming you’re editing your tale, and notice one of these errors – what can you do about it?

There are three basic solutions:

1) Change the subject in the independent clause to match the modifier;

2) Expand the modifier into a clause that explicitly specifies a subject (which can then be different from the independent clause);

3) Make the modifying clause into a separate sentence.

Let’s look at example (b) and apply each of these solutions.

Solution 1: Nearly blinded, Callie instinctively reached for the gun in her purse.

Solution 2: As the flash nearly blinded her, Callie's hand instinctively went for the gun in her purse.

Solution 3: The flash nearly blinded her. Instinctively, Callie’s hand went for the gun in her purse.

The best revision depends on stylistic concerns, as well as on the specific sentence. For example (a), I think the sentence should be split, since the subject of the modifiers and of the main clause are totally different.

She was no longer aware of her physical surroundings, uncaring of the others watching them. He had become her world.

In addition to fixing the grammar problem, this revision (I feel) increases the impact of the sentences.

If you’re willing to admit that this sort of construction is a problem, how can you improve your ability to notice your own errors?

Alas, we’re all somewhat blind to our own faults. You can begin, though, by becoming more conscious of your choices when framing a sentence. Should you use a modifying phrase at the start of a sentence? A dependent clause? Would your ideas be better expressed by splitting the thought into two sentences?

Normally people use modifying phrases like this to convey a relationship. When you use a participle, you are implying a temporal relationship. A present participle (“ing”) indicates two concurrent actions. For instance, Joel noticed the naked woman on the couch at the same time as he entered the room. A past participle (“ed”, or “en” for some verbs) suggests sequential actions. A flash blinded Callie, then she instinctively reached for her gun.

Be sure that this implied temporal relationship makes sense, and is what you really want to convey.

You probably should not try to think about this sort of issue when you’re writing your first draft, or you’ll get bogged down. However sentence structure alternatives should be one of your considerations when you’re self-editing.

Of course, the best approach may be to have someone else read and critique your stories, helping to shine light on your blind spots. You can offer the same service to someone else, since their weaknesses are likely to differ from yours.

Grammar Pet Peeves

In addition to being an author, I'm also an editor – and of course, a reader. My experience editing has made me painfully sensitive to errors in other people's prose. (If only I were as sensitive to my own mistakes!) There are a few types of grammar errors that particularly bug me. I will admit that if I'm reading a published book and come across instances of these five problems, my opinions of both the author and the publisher tend to take a nose dive.

I'm not trying to be snooty or put on airs here. Really, I wish I could ignore this sort of thing. Unfortunately, grammar mistakes tend to jump out at me and hit me over the head.

Here are the five types of errors that bother me most.

Gerundal modifiers with incorrect subjects

A gerundal modifier is a verb phrase that uses the present participle (ending in -ing) to modify a noun or noun phrase. For example:

Unzipping her skirt, Adele grinned at Jake's physical reaction.

Picking up their guitars, the band launched into a soulful rendition of “The House of the Rising Sun”.

Both of the above sentences are grammatical. The rule for this sort of construction is that the noun or noun phrase being modified must be the same as the implied subject of the gerund, that is, the person or thing associated with the continuing action expressed by the gerund. Thus, it is Adele who is unzipping the skirt and the band who is picking up their guitars.

The problem arises when an author violates this rule, that is, when the subject of the main clause is not the subject of the gerund. For example:

Gasping at the ferocity of his kiss, her hand found its way into his jeans.

Tearing off her clothes, his breath came faster.

“Her hand” is not gasping. “His breath” is not tearing off her clothes (unless he happens to be some kind of elemental wind god!) I could hardly write these sentences without gritting my teeth!

This is probably the most common grammatical error I encounter when reading romance, partly because this construction seems to be very popular.

Run-on sentences

A run-on sentence has two separate independent clauses that are not joined by any kind of a conjunction. Most often, authors who make this mistake join the clauses with a comma. Thus this kind of error is sometimes called a “comma splice”. For example:

The bell rang, she raced to the door hoping that it would be him.

Louisa donned the filmy negligee, she felt sexier than she had in years.

Last night I was reading a story where the author had three spliced clauses in a row. Grr!

Sentence fragments

A sentence fragment is sort of the opposite of a run-on sentence. Sentence fragments are verb phrases – predicates – that lack a subject or noun phrases that lack a predicate. They are not complete sentences and thus should not stand on their own. For example:

Julia stood on the curb, scanning the traffic for a taxi. The pounding of her heart in her chest. She couldn't afford to be late.

Roger knew that Helen was the one. Wanted to tell her before she disappeared from his world.

I suspect that most sentence fragments result from the author restructuring a paragraph while she's writing, and not cleaning up the debris.

Note that it is permissible to use sentence fragments, sparingly, when you are expressing inner dialogue. People don't speak or think in complete sentences. For instance (from my own story, “Woman in White”, published in Sex in the City: New York):

The last thing I wanted was to hurt her. I just couldn't help myself. She was my goddess, my dream. My reason for getting up in the morning.

Strictly speaking this is not grammatical. “My reason for getting up in the morning” is a sentence fragment. However, in this case, it is a stylistic device, deliberately chosen to convey a certain mood and tempo.

Incorrect use of contractions

Want to make me groan and throw your book across the room? Use “there's” when you really mean “theirs”, or “it's” for a possessive instead of a contraction.

“There's” is short for “there is”:

There's a naked man in my kitchen!

“Theirs” is a possessive pronoun used to indicate something that belongs to some group:

Our boyfriends are cuter than theirs.

In a similar fashion, “it's” is short for “it is” while “its” is possessive (though “its” cannot be used alone the way “theirs” can.)

It's a difficult task getting a man to listen to you.

The alien squeaked and wiggled its ears.

Incorrect subject-verb agreement

In English, many verbs take different forms depending on whether their subject is singular or plural. For example:

Her prize depends on which door she chooses. (singular)

We choose our partners based on our past experiences. (plural)

Sometimes authors use the wrong form. Often this occurs when the subject is separated from the verb by a prepositional phrase in which the object of the preposition has a different number than the subject. It is a particular problem when the subject is a collective noun, that is, a noun which is singular but which designates a group. For example:

As their first order of business every year, the committee of teachers choose a chairperson.

"Committee" implies a group, but it is a singular noun nevertheless. So the singular form, "chooses", is what is needed.

An easy way to decide which is correct in such cases is to remove the prepositional phrase. Usually this will make any error obvious:

As their first order of business every year, the committee choose a chairperson.

The opposite error, using the singular form when the plural form is needed, is far less common.

We all make mistakes occasionally. That is (part of) what editors are for. In my opinion, however, it is an author's responsibility to become familiar with the rules of grammar and to use them correctly most of the time. I've encountered writers who smile, shrug and say “I'm no good at grammar. My editor will fix it.” I'm sorry, but I view that as an unprofessional attitude.

Maybe I'm too rigid about this sort of thing. As I noted before, though, I really can't help it. Noticing grammar errors is not a conscious choice on my part. I can't help it, and unfortunately, it sometimes interferes with the pleasure of reading.