I DANGLE MY PARTICIPLES
I dangle my participles. There, I admit it. And it’s not the only way I misplace modifiers. How do I know this? My sweet, long-suffering sister, who is voluntarily editing the second book in my Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery series, told me. She brought the manuscript with her and worked on it during our Christmas-in-Hawaii family vacation.
The middle child of five, she is a smarty. At a young age, she got it: in our family of origin, the ethos went a step further than children should be seen and not heard, and she perfected the art of invisibility. Today, a keeper of the peace and master of tact, she still prefers understatement and is reluctant to confront. Smiling sweetly as she looked at me over the top of her reading glasses, all she said was “You do get this dangling participle thing, right?” “Sure,” I replied. I was suddenly inundated by a vision of her handiwork on A DEAD HUSBAND—so many dangling participles and, oh, all those misplaced modifiers. The woman had saved me from so many inappropriate, misguided sentences. Any that remain are despite her best efforts to find them and fix them—hoping beyond hope that I wouldn’t introduce new ones as I “tweaked” the edited manuscript!
“But, I was more careful writing this second book,” I thought. Back home in the California desert, when I could muster the courage, I took a look at the Prologue to book two: A DEAD SISTER. There it was! Jumping right off page one—a dangling participle. I felt embarrassed then I thought about our family vacation in Kona. If only all I had done was dangle a few participles.
The oldest child of the five, I was born with a megaphone in my hands and an attitude to go with it. “I’ll show you ‘seen and not heard’—harrumph!” I shrieked as I challenged, defied and drew fire. That’s all half a century behind me now. If only I could learn to keep the peace, master tact, and avoid confrontation—in other words, shut up.
Okay so 2013 had been a bad year. Actually, the negative mojo hammered away longer than that. It had been rough going since mid-2012 when what was perhaps one of the best years in my life suddenly morphed into the worst. No, I didn’t catch a feckless husband in flagrante delicto with a blond, as my heroine, Jessica Huntington, did—but events were devastating, nevertheless. I won’t go into detail here about what happened, because I’m not wasting time feeling sorry for myself. Don’t feel sorry for my husband, either—he’s very much alive and just like me: oldest child, born with a megaphone in hand and an attitude.
Through it all, like Jessica’s beloved surrogate mother Bernadette, my sister was there listening to me as I ranted and raved. I call it “processing.” The problem about all that processing, with megaphone and attitude is that you often say things that have more than the modifiers misplaced. I’m lucky to have a sister in my life to offer comfort and peace, and to love me even when I dangle my participles, among other things. Thanks sis, I love you, too!
If you need a little help with your misplaced modifiers Grammar Girl can help, btw... http://www.quickanddirtytips.com/educ...
The middle child of five, she is a smarty. At a young age, she got it: in our family of origin, the ethos went a step further than children should be seen and not heard, and she perfected the art of invisibility. Today, a keeper of the peace and master of tact, she still prefers understatement and is reluctant to confront. Smiling sweetly as she looked at me over the top of her reading glasses, all she said was “You do get this dangling participle thing, right?” “Sure,” I replied. I was suddenly inundated by a vision of her handiwork on A DEAD HUSBAND—so many dangling participles and, oh, all those misplaced modifiers. The woman had saved me from so many inappropriate, misguided sentences. Any that remain are despite her best efforts to find them and fix them—hoping beyond hope that I wouldn’t introduce new ones as I “tweaked” the edited manuscript!
“But, I was more careful writing this second book,” I thought. Back home in the California desert, when I could muster the courage, I took a look at the Prologue to book two: A DEAD SISTER. There it was! Jumping right off page one—a dangling participle. I felt embarrassed then I thought about our family vacation in Kona. If only all I had done was dangle a few participles.
The oldest child of the five, I was born with a megaphone in my hands and an attitude to go with it. “I’ll show you ‘seen and not heard’—harrumph!” I shrieked as I challenged, defied and drew fire. That’s all half a century behind me now. If only I could learn to keep the peace, master tact, and avoid confrontation—in other words, shut up.
Okay so 2013 had been a bad year. Actually, the negative mojo hammered away longer than that. It had been rough going since mid-2012 when what was perhaps one of the best years in my life suddenly morphed into the worst. No, I didn’t catch a feckless husband in flagrante delicto with a blond, as my heroine, Jessica Huntington, did—but events were devastating, nevertheless. I won’t go into detail here about what happened, because I’m not wasting time feeling sorry for myself. Don’t feel sorry for my husband, either—he’s very much alive and just like me: oldest child, born with a megaphone in hand and an attitude.
Through it all, like Jessica’s beloved surrogate mother Bernadette, my sister was there listening to me as I ranted and raved. I call it “processing.” The problem about all that processing, with megaphone and attitude is that you often say things that have more than the modifiers misplaced. I’m lucky to have a sister in my life to offer comfort and peace, and to love me even when I dangle my participles, among other things. Thanks sis, I love you, too!
If you need a little help with your misplaced modifiers Grammar Girl can help, btw... http://www.quickanddirtytips.com/educ...
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