The Time Traveller’s Verbs, Part 1: Telling Campfire Tales

“So we’re waiting for the tyrannosaurus to make up its mind: is it going to charge us, or not? The Captain and I brace ourselves, and…”

“Sergeant! What have I told you about using the present tense to tell stories?” barked a voice from out of the dusk.

Joe made a small grimace, and the children laughed. A tall, slim figure strode up into the light of the small campfire. The flicker of the flames cast her face into sharp relief: thin grey eyebrows, hooked nose, pointed chin. She stood next to Joe and put her hands on her hips as she glared down at him. Joe shifted his bulk on the anti-grav camp chair.

“Captain,” he protested, “the simple present tense lends dramatic emphasis to stories. I was just getting to the good part…”

“Don’t listen to him. He tells a terrible story,” announced the Captain to the children. They laughed again.

“See, Joe? That’s how a time traveller uses verbs. I’m using the present tense because I’m talking about the here and now. How many times have I told you that time travellers need to be precise with their verb tenses? What are you teaching our future recruits here?”

Joe sighed. He looked up at the Captain, and she stared back at him. A twinkle appeared in the Captain’s eye, but it might have been caused by the firelight. Joe rolled his eyes and gestured to the anti-grav chair next to him. She nodded and perched on the edge with a ramrod-straight posture.

“So, who wants to learn about the time traveller’s verbs?” the Captain asked the children. All three of them put up their hands. Mia stretched her arm as far as it could go.

“I’m sure you all know that in time travel, we work with the past, present and future. But you may not know that there are different verb tenses that can be used with each of these. Before we can tell a story about the past, we need to master the verbs in the present. And there are four different types of present tense verbs. How many types are there, recruits?”

“Four!” shouted Mia and Charlie. Kevin just looked on in amusement.

“Excellent,” approved the Captain.

Simple Present

“Let’s start with the simple present. It’s simple because you’re using the base form of the verb. That doesn’t mean it’s simple to use. There are several places where this tense can appear. For example, Sergeant Joe here was using the simple present to tell a story…which is okay as long as you are not telling a story about time travel.”

“See?” said Joe to the children. “I was right.” He puffed up his chest. The Captain smiled wryly as Mia and little Charlie giggled at his antics.

“You can also use the simple present to describe the future if you’re using time words like after, when, or as soon as. Such as, ‘I will retire from time travelling as soon as Joe learns to listen to me.'”

Kevin snorted.

“I do listen, Captain,” said Joe, deliberately looking at his watch. “Because I know that you can also use the simple present to describe something scheduled to happen in the near future. ‘Our next mission starts tonight, so we don’t have a lot of time to talk about verbs.'”

The Captain ignored him.

“Mia,” said the Captain. “Your mother tells me you want more than anything to be a time traveller when you grow up.”

“Yes, ma’am!” said Mia. She saluted.

“Well, then tell me what present tense verb I was just using, and why I was using it.”

Mia squinted in thought. “The verb was tells…and you’re talking about something that my mother just told you?”

“Exactly! Even though I am talking about something that happened in the past, if it just happened, I can use the simple present to tell people about it.” The Captain looked at all three children. “Those are the main uses of the simple present. It’s called simple, but I think it’s the most complicated tense in the present. The next three are easier. Are you ready?”

“Yes, ma’am,” declared Mia and Charlie. Kevin was too busy preparing marshmallows for the fire.

Campfire

Present Continuous

“The second tense is called present continuous. Sometimes it’s called present progressive. We use this tense to talk about something that’s happening right now and hasn’t finished yet. That’s why it’s called continuous. For this tense, you use the simple present of the verb to be and add the -ing form of another verb to it.”

“Captain,” said Joe, looking at the skies as a UNS spacecraft flew by.

“Here’s a great one for you: ‘We are talking about time traveller verbs.'”

“We really need to get going…” said Joe.

“You can also use the present continuous for a scheduled future event that hasn’t happened yet, so we are continuing to wait for it: ‘We are leaving soon, Joe, so stop interrupting me.'”

Present Perfect

“Captain,” said Joe in a low, urgent tone as the children switched their attention to the food. Kevin was passing around the marshmallow-topped sticks.

The Captain glanced at him.

Joe gestured at the darkening skies. “We’ve messed up the timeline, and we need to fix it.”

“I had my suspicions after seeing the anti-grav chair designs,” murmured the Captain. “You’re right, we have changed something.”

By this time, Kevin was listening intently. “What do you mean, ‘We have changed something’?”

“Great observation skills, Kevin,” said Joe. “You’ll make a fine time traveller someday. The Captain and I were coming up with an example for the present perfect, the third verb tense. This one uses the simple present of the verb have and the past participle of an action verb. A perfect tense describes a completed action – it’s like the opposite of a continuous tense. The present perfect tense describes an action that has been completed at some vague time in the past, but is relevant to what is happening in the present.”

“So,” said the Captain smoothly, “‘We have changed something’ is a good example to use when the change affects something in the present.”

“But what’s changed? And what did it affect?” asked Kevin, his forgotten marshmallow burning in the fire. Charlie started to frown in bewilderment.

“Oh, it’s just an example,” said the Captain. “Joe’s been right to remind me of the time, we need to go now. Sorry, kids.”

“But we haven’t learned all the verbs!” protested Mia, her mouth full of marshmallow.

Present Perfect Continuous

The Captain stood up. “I’ll leave you with a homework assignment, recruits. You can think about it while Joe and I are gone for the next few minutes on our mission. I want you to come up with a sentence in the final tense, the present perfect continuous. This tense is used to talk about an event that started earlier and is still ongoing in the present. Use the simple present of the verb have with been and an -ing form of a verb. Good luck!”

The Captain and Sergeant Joe walked away into the darkness as the children stared at each other.

“They‘ve been acting really weird,” said Kevin. Mia nodded as she put an arm around Charlie.

“I’ve been keeping an eye out for Zardonian spaceships,” said Joe as soon as they were out of earshot.

“I’ve been scanning with my comm unit too, but there’s no sign of them. Only ours.”

“So it’s back to the past again. Da Vinci this time?” asked Joe.

“We have no choice. I told you not to eat that apple,” said the Captain, as they entered the time machine.

“But I was hungry!”

Back at the campfire, the children looked up as a blue flash lit the night. Then something changed…

***

Tune in next week for the continuing story of The Time Traveller’s Verbs, when we will journey into the past!

This series of posts is dedicated to Shelley Sackier, blogger extraordinaire, who asked me to write about perfect and continuous verbs.

Today’s picture is from my talented son. 🙂

My Writing Process (Blog Hop)

Talented writer and fellow blogger Andrew Knighton recently tagged me for a writing process blog hop. So of course I said yes! My hop post will probably be a bit different from the norm, since my personal writing is focused on blogging (for now) rather than traditional stories or novels. My day job involves a lot of business/technical writing and editing for a corporation. My blog gives me a chance to show off my creative side.

1. What am I currently working on?

I started Doorway Between Worlds four months ago. I write weekly tips about communication through the lens of sci-fi/fantasy. I also proofread for Editors’ Weekly, the official blog of the Editors’ Association of Canada.

At my day job, one of my current focus areas is writing online help that is useful, clear, and easily accessible. So I have been learning a lot about information architecture, user experience, and plain language. The plain language aspect is filtering into my blog, because I try to write posts that are readable for a wide audience. As someone who has spent years explaining technical concepts to the business side, I strongly support plain language and clear communication.

In the back of my mind are many story ideas. When I have more time to devote to writing, I’d like to explore them. These include ideas for a traditional epic fantasy story, a post-infrastructure collapse apocalypse story, and an adventure story about a family that saves the world.

2. How does my work differ from others of its genre?

I am a big fan of Grammar Girl because she writes about grammar in an accessible and entertaining way. I wanted to take things one step further by writing communication tips in the form of stories. I have seen other people do this, but usually the story is limited to a few sample sentences with a lot of exposition in between. I am working towards fully integrating the information into the stories. I’d like the story metaphor to seamlessly reinforce the learning. I’m not there yet, but that’s my goal. Can I write fun stories about grammar that are just as entertaining as a traditional story? We’ll see…

3. Why do I write what I write?

I started my blog for a couple of different reasons. I wanted to share what I’ve learned about communication in a fun way, so that I could help others who are interested in this topic. I also wanted to start writing creatively again, because ever since high school, all my writing has been analytical. My dream as a child was to write a fantasy novel, and that hasn’t changed. But I’m out of practice. Writing this blog is helping me use those parts of my brain that have been sadly neglected.

4. How does my writing process work?

I use a form of writing prompt to come up with post ideas. I have two lists: a list of communication problems I would like to help people with, and a list of sci-fi/fantasy settings and concepts that I enjoy. Then I try to connect the two of them together.

Statue holding a stylus in front of a beautiful sunset at Piazza di Spagna in Rome, Italy

Do you feel this serene while writing? I wish I did!
(Image sourced from gnuckx at Wikimedia Commons, CC-BY-2.0)

Sometimes I start with a problem, like the time I was trying to figure out how to write a story about apostrophes. This seemed impossible, until I thought about how nice it would be if someone could just take them away. And so Night of the Apostrophe Ninja was born. Other times there’s a concept I really want to write about, like vampires. What do vampires do? Suck the life from people. So then I ended up writing about how passive voice sucks the life from sentences in Tale of a Sentence Vampire Hunter.

Once I have a basic idea, I let it kick around in my head for a couple of days. (My best thinking times happen while I am commuting, out walking, or, unfortunately, trying to get to sleep.) I typically write the first draft in one shot. I let it sit for a day and come back to edit it before posting. I used to spend a lot more time editing. I’m starting to get used to the blogosphere, where speed is more important than perfection.

5. Tag three other writers for the blog hop

A lot of writers I follow have already been through this blog hop, so this is a tough one. There are three writers I admire who have a knack for humour in their posts. I’d love to find out more about how they write:

Celine Jeanjean

Brenna Layne

Shelley Sackier

Ladies, if you would rather not blog hop, I understand. Feel free to post a link in the comments below to one of your favourite posts so I can share your greatness!

And finally…N J Magas has already done this blog hop, but I wanted to share her fantastically funny post: In the Back Abyss Without a Light or My Writing Process.

Thanks for reading!

Warning: Mixing Your Modifiers May Cause Explosions

Who can forget the daily drama of potion class with Professor Snape? If you’ve read (or watched) Harry Potter, then you know what I’m talking about. Harry and Ron are hopeless at modifying their potions. There’s always some kind of mix-up. The two Hogwarts students are often bracing for an explosion: Malfoy’s explosive laughter, Snape’s explosive rage, or their own explosive cauldron. If they didn’t have the help of clever Hermione, Harry and Ron would never get through it.

This makes no sense at all! Where's Hermione?

This ingredient list makes no sense at all! Where’s Hermione?

If you think modifying potions is hard, that’s nothing compared to modifying words or phrases. You need lots of butterbeer to get through the mix-ups that can happen when you use modifiers. You can have misplaced modifiers, dangling modifiers, or squinting modifiers. And there’s no Dumbledore to give you guidance. (Luckily, you have me.)

Misplaced Modifiers: May Cause You to Vomit Slugs

With a misplaced modifier, you are modifying a word you didn’t intend to modify. You can avoid this problem by putting your modifier just before the word you are modifying. Do this and you won’t be like Ron, who modified himself instead of Malfoy when he misfired a spell. Then he got stuck with a sluggish digestive system.

To illustrate misplaced modifiers, let’s talk about how bad Harry and Ron are at making potions.

Harry and Ron messed up almost every potion.

Wow, Harry and Ron are terrible at this. This means that most of the potions they make are failures (almost all of them). But what if the situation is not quite that dire?

Harry and Ron almost messed up every potion.

Okay, things aren’t so bad now. They almost messed up every time, but managed to pull through. (Maybe Hermione was whispering the answers to them.)

You can see that where you place almost makes a big difference in the meaning of the sentence.

Let’s say our two fledgling wizards don’t know how to answer Snape’s question about a potion. Snape is not amused.

Snape yelled only at Harry.

Phew, Ron got out of it this time! Only Harry is being yelled at. But maybe I meant to say this instead:

Snape only yelled at Harry.

Snape hated Harry so much that he only yelled at him. He never talked to him or whispered to him. He just yelled. Everyone pulled out their earmuffs from Professor Sprout’s Herbology class whenever Harry and Snape were in the same room.

Misplaced modifiers can happen with modifying phrases, too.

Thundering towards them, Ron was afraid that Snape would transmogrify them into slugs.

Who is thundering towards Ron and Harry? It looks like Ron is doing the thundering, which makes no sense (unless he used the time turner, and there’s two of him). Let’s put that modifying phrase next to the word we want to modify (Snape):

Thundering towards them, Snape made Ron afraid that they’d be transmogrified into slugs.

Now it’s clear who is being modified in this sentence. And it’s not Ron (fortunately for him).

Remember: Misplaced modifiers = slimy slugs + Snape in a rage. They are bad news.

Dangling Modifiers: May Cause Dizziness While Flying

With a dangling modifier, the modifier is describing something that isn’t even in the sentence. It’s hard to identify what’s being modified (so you’re left dangling). You can avoid this problem by making the subject of the sentence clear. Don’t be like those clueless students who couldn’t identify who was causing Harry to dangle off his quidditch broom. (The dementors, of course.)

To illustrate dangling modifiers, let’s continue with our potions story. Ron couldn’t answer a potion question, and now he is worried about a raging Snape.

Cowering at his desk, Hermione waved her hand frantically.

Who’s cowering at a desk, and what does that have to do with Hermione? Right now, Hermione is the subject of the sentence, and she’s too brave to cower. Let’s fix this by adding in the true subject (Ron).

Cowering at his desk, Ron saw Hermione wave her hand frantically.

Hurrah! Hermione is coming to save the day by answering that question! Ron owes her big time.

Let’s try another dangler:

While blurting out the answer to Snape’s question, Snape sneered.

Apparently Snape doesn’t like it when he blurts out the answer to his own question! Wait a minute, that can’t be right…

While Hermione blurted out the answer to Snape’s question, Snape sneered.

Of course Hermione knows the answer. Bless you, Hermione. You are too good to Ron and Harry. But now that you are the subject of the sentence, you’ve put yourself in Snape’s way…

Remember: Dangling modifiers = Quidditch match injuries + Snape in a bigger rage. They can cause a lot of damage.

Squinting Modifiers: May Cause Headaches and Confusion

Our final modifier culprit is the squinting modifier. A squinting modifier happens when the modifier is placed between two things, and you’re not sure which one it modifies. You keep squinting to make it out, but it gives you a headache. You can avoid this by rewriting your sentence. Yes, that takes work. But it’s easier than figuring out the real Harry when a bunch of wizards drink Hermione’s polyjuice potion and look like Harry. Confusion to all Death Eaters! (But hopefully not to you.)

Ready to start squinting?

Snape’s attention is now focused on Hermione, who is trying to answer the potion question.

“Children who seek attention rarely are intelligent,” pronounced Snape darkly.

Ouch! But what is Snape saying? Is he saying that children who seek attention once in a while (rarely) are intelligent? I’m guessing that’s most of his class (including Hermione, who’s learned not to seek his attention except under desperate circumstances). Nope, that’s too nice for Snape. Does he mean that children who like to get attention are usually stupid? Probably. But the sentence is not clear, because the modifier rarely is between attention and are intelligent.

Whatever he said, Hermione doesn’t like it. And she knows how to master modifiers.

“Teachers who bully others often are compensating for their insecurities,” retorted Hermione.

Does Hermione mean that teachers who bully others a lot (often) are insecure? Or does she mean that teachers who bully others are often insecure? It could go either way here. If Hermione wanted just the second meaning, she would have said “are often” instead of “often are.” But Hermione is trying to give Snape a headache thinking it over. Great job, Hermione!

(But maybe not so great for Gryffindor house.)

Remember: Squinting modifiers = Hermione’s clever double meanings + Snape in a towering rage. They cause a loss of fifty house points from Gryffindor.

But it was worth it.

***

This post is dedicated to TL, who asked me to write about where to place modifiers in a sentence. If you have a topic request for a future post, please contact me.

Night of the Apostrophe Ninja

Like many of his neighbours in the sleepy small town of Anywhere, Bob was puzzled by the mysterious word its. When should he use an apostrophe? Bob was known as the best writer in town, and he dreaded everyone finding out his shameful secret.

Bob did know that apostrophes could do two things:

1. Show the reader that two words have been put together and letters have been removed.

2. Show the reader that an object is being possessed by someone or something.

So it made sense to Bob that people might write things like Bob’s a really smart guy. (If they only knew!)

Bob understood that Bob is could be contracted into Bob’s, with the apostrophe showing that there were missing letters.

Bob was also familiar with I always go to Bob’s house when I need some advice about apostrophes. (Oh, the mounting pressure!)

Since Bob owned his house, it made sense to write Bob’s house.

Bob was comfortable using apostrophes with almost any noun for the two situations. But then there were those exceptions he just didn’t understand: it, you, and they. He wasn’t comfortable deceiving his friends into believing he was a punctuation expert. He needed to figure this out. Maybe tonight he would finally master it.

Nancy’s coming over here tomorrow for apostrophe advice, Bob thought, and I’m worried about whether I have this right. Ha! The dog’s barking. It’s happening again. I must find out who is helping me!

Every night, Bob was being visited by a mysterious apostrophe thief. This stealthy punctuation master would slice out all the apostrophes that didn’t belong and take them away.  Bob had never caught a glimpse of his visitor. He was left with only the results—accurate sentences.

Over time, Bob had noticed a pattern. Those vague and disturbing pronouns it, you, and they often had apostrophes going missing into the night. For these words, an apostrophe was left behind only for a situation where Bob was putting words together:

It’s strange that this is happening. [replacing It is]

You’re not going to believe this. [replacing You are]

They’re wrong about me being a punctuation genius. [replacing They are]

When Bob was writing about the possession of something, the apostrophes disappeared. Instead of it’s, you’re, and they’re, he was left with its, your, and their.

If only the town knew its resident writer was not the true source of punctuation knowledge. [the resident writer belonged to the town]

My dog always barks at your arrival, oh mysterious visitor. [the visitor controls the arrival]

But the townfolk go on their merry way, unaware of who is in their midst. [the townfolk are responsible for their oblivious activity]

At the sound of the dog barking, Bob sprinted into his home office. He found a shrouded figure crouched on his messy desk, claws resting lightly on the surface. Bob halted in the doorway.

He whispered, “It’s you! You’re the one who’s been stealing my apostrophes and preserving my reputation! They’re treating me like I’m a genius, but you’re the one who truly knows!”

The ninja slowly nodded its head.

“Oh, great punctuation master, please tell me if I have learned the pattern correctly for it, you, and they. When you’re contracting words, you use an apostrophe. But when you want to show possession, you do not use an apostrophe. Your teachings have taught me this. I will now be able to truly help the townspeople with their punctuation. Am I correct?”

The ninja nodded its head again.

“May the town know its true benefactor?”

In the blink of an eye, the apostrophe thief sprang out the window and disappeared into the night.

komori ninja

Image Credit: Komori by Gary Dupuis. Stock art purchased from http://www.rpgnow.com

Holding his breath, Bob approached his desk. None of the apostrophes had been removed from his papers. He had finally achieved mastery!

The town slept on, unaware of one man’s secret triumph.

Left or Right? Either Will Do

Have you ever had to decide between two options that looked equally good (or equally bad)? It’s like being in a Choose Your Own Adventure book, where the page number you pick can lead to either the villain’s defeat or your own death. (And it’s always death by quicksand, or alligators, or something similarly dreadful.)

Fork in the road

But both of the paths looked so inviting…
Image Credit: P L Chadwick. Source: Wikimedia Commons. CC BY-SA 2.0

It can be just as hard to write a sentence that describes two equal things or ideas. Luckily, there are some handy connecting words that can help you pull everything together. These words are called correlative conjunctions.

Correlative conjunctions always come in pairs, so they are easy to spot (unlike those sneaky alligators). Examples of these conjunctions are

both….and

not only…but also

whether…or

either…or

neither…nor

The tricky part is figuring out where to put these words in your sentence.

Since correlative conjunctions connect two equal items, both of these items should have a parallel grammatical structure. This is easy to miss when you are in the middle of writing. Let’s create our own adventure to see how correlative conjunctions can help you to balance your sentences.

Choose Your Own Adventure: Magic or Mayhem

Both Jadeira and Karlon despised the evil Queen.

[Our adventurers, Jadeira and Karlon, are both proper nouns. So the two of them are grammatically parallel.]

The Queen was not only a vile sorceress, but also a grasping tyrant.

[Both a vile sorceress and a grasping tyrant have the same structure—article (a) / adjective (vile, grasping) / noun (sorceress, tyrant). So the two items are parallel. But look at what would happen if we wrote this sentence differently…]

The Queen not only was a vile sorceress, but also a grasping tyrant. ✕

[In this case, the first item starts with a verb (was) and the second item starts with an article (a). So we know we’re in trouble, and we haven’t even seen any alligators yet!]

The two companions debated whether to take the left path towards the town (and obtain reinforcements) or take the right path towards the Queen’s lair (and confront the Queen immediately). 

[This is a long sentence, and could definitely use some editing. But it is grammatically parallel. You can see that whether works a bit differently from the other correlative conjunctions. The parallel items don’t always follow directly after the word whether. In this case, the parallel items are following the infinitive to.]

As a result of their choice, they would either achieve a stunning victory or suffer a gruesome and bitter defeat.

[Grammatical parallelism does not mean that everything has to be identical. Both of the items above start with a verb (achieve, suffer) and are followed by a noun phrase. As long as the pattern of each item is similar, you are on the right path.]

Neither Jadeira nor Karlon could decide on the best course of action.

[In sentences like these, we use neither/nor rather than either/or. This is because we are replacing the negative word not: “Jadeira and Karlon could not decide.”]

Jadeira looked at Karlon. “You still have that silver coin?”

Karlon pulled the coin from his pocket, preparing to flip it.

Both adventurers were so focused on the coin that they did not see the giant alligators lurking in the water…

If you agree that Jadeira and Karlon should be eaten by the giant alligators, turn to page 32.

If you would rather get eaten by alligators than suffer through another grammar lesson, then you are on the wrong page. Go to another blog, and enjoy!

If you have thoughts to share about this grammar lesson, go to the bottom of this page. Make a comment.

THE END

(P.S. This post is dedicated to Nicole de Courval, who suggested that I write about either and neither. If you have a topic idea for a post, please contact me. I love writing about thorny grammar challenges!)

Me, Myself, or I—Whodunnit?

I’m dealing with a pronoun identity crisis. It’s like trying to pick a clone from Star Wars out of a lineup. Me, Myself, and I are all possible suspects. Which one should I use in my sentence? With the help of Anne Stilman (and with apologies to Jango Fett), I’m going to sort out these annoying pronoun clones once and for all.

Suspect Number One: I, the Arrogant Subject

Jango Fett from Star Wars

I am in control of my destiny!

 I is a “take charge” kind of pronoun. I demands pride of place as the subject of a sentence (the person committing the action).

I will lead my troops to victory! ✓

I continues to demand this right even when there are other subjects in the sentence.

Yoda and I will never be good friends. ✓

I hates it when someone writes Yoda and Me. ✕   This is simply disrespectful.

I also barges in when there are comparisons between two subjects. I shows up even when there is no verb following it.

Mace Windu thinks he is better than I. ✓

In the sentence above, the verb is implied. The full sentence is below.

Mace Windu thinks he is better than I am. ✓  (What a fool!) ✕

I wants you to know that missing words don’t excuse you from getting this right. Don’t screw it up by saying Mace thinks he is better than Me. ✕

I is also arrogant enough to crowd in directly after a verb, when the verb is a form of to be (is, am, was, were).

It is I, the great clone warrior! ✓

In this case, I is following a linking verb (is). A linking verb links the subject to the item that follows it. It (the subject) = I (the subject).

I wants us to understand that I is clearly > Me, so It is Me is ridiculous. (Although this usage is increasingly accepted—for another view, check out Grammar Girl’s take on “It is I.”)

Bottom line, I is an attention hog and a horrible dinner companion. Enough said.

Suspect Number Two: Me, the Objectified Victim

Jango Fett from Star Wars - 2

Why is everyone always bothering me?

Everyone is always out to get Me. Instead of being a subject, this pronoun is treated as an object. Verbs are constantly acting against Me.

They are all plotting to dispose of Me. ✓

Since I is a hog, it likes to kick Me out of its rightful place when there are multiple objects in a sentence.

The Jedi are pestering Boba and I. ✕

This is completely wrong, and makes Me suffer. Here’s the correct version.

The Jedi are pestering Boba and Me. ✓

On a bright note, there is one sentence where Me is not the underdog.

Woe is Me. ✓

At first glance, it looks like I should be taking over this sentence. (Remember when I followed the linking verb is in It is I?) Not so fast. This is another sentence with some implied words.

Woe is delivered unto Me. ✓

Me continues to be an object here, as the receiver of a delivery. So Me wins this round (if you can call it winning).

How appropriate that we are talking about woe around such a moping and hard-done-by pronoun. Let’s move on from Me—the party pooper.

Suspect Number Three: Myself, the Perpetual Sidekick

Jango Fett from Star Wars - 3

I really need to stand up for myself.

Myself really needs a mind of its own. Instead, it follows I around everywhere, feeding I‘s superiority. This is why Myself is known as a reflexive pronoun. It is a reflection of I.

I can’t fight this war all by Myself! ✓

(Guess it’s time to make some more clones then.)

Sometimes Myself tries to rise in importance by acting as an intensive pronoun. Myself intensifies what I is saying.

I Myself believe that war is the only true answer. ✓

This is a correct sentence, but Myself is still following I around, so I’m not sure how successful its ploy for greatness is.

In a last bid for glory, you can find Myself trying to act like a subject or an object.

Dooku and Myself are clearly both subjects. ✕

The Jedi insulted Myself and my other clone brother objects. ✕

The pronoun should be I in the first sentence, and Me in the second one. Myself is out of luck. It continues to be a tagalong pronoun. No wonder it got dragged into a lineup with the other pronoun troublemakers!

I think my pronoun identity crisis is over. The verdict? All of them are still annoying. But at least I know when to use them in my sentences. Now if only they can stay out of trouble!

(Have you experienced pain with pronouns? Are there any particular grammar challenges you would like to see me tackle here? Please share your thoughts below.)

If wishes had genies…

Verbs have moods, just like genies do. And we all know you need to pay attention to someone’s mood if you want to get your wish. (“Can I have a cookie, Mom? Pleeease?” Oh, no, it’s not working! Time for the cute face. “I love you.”)

Disney’s Aladdin shows us all about moods and how we can stay on the good side of verbs. The film’s characters use the three verb moods: indicative, imperative, and subjunctive. Let’s see how each mood can affect your chances of getting your wish.

Indicative Mood

We use the indicative mood most of the time. This verb mood is good for stating facts, making requests, or asking questions. Aladdin uses this mood when he says, “Genie, I wish for you to make me a prince.” The verb in this sentence is wish. This is a simple request, and Genie is happy to lend a hand:

Disney's Aladdin and Genie shaking hands

You’ve got a deal!

Imperative Mood

We use the imperative mood for commands. Our story’s villain, Jafar, is fond of using the imperative mood. After he steals the lamp, he commands: “Genie, grant me my first wish.” Here, the verb is grant. Jafar could have said, “I would like you to grant me my first wish,” which would have been more polite (and indicative). But no. And guess what happens when you use the imperative mood on a genie?

Genie cheering for Jafar in Aladdin

Can you tell I’m motivated?

Subjunctive Mood

This final verb mood is the trickiest. We use the subjunctive mood for unlikely possibilities, things that are not true, and (you guessed it) wishes. You often find the subjunctive mood hanging around with the word if. Aladdin uses the subjunctive when he protects children from being whipped by a rude prince. He says, “Hey, if I were as rich as you, I could afford some manners!”

We can tell this is the subjunctive mood because Aladdin says I were. This can sound strange to our ears, because normally people say I was. With the subjunctive, however, the verb form were is always used (if I were, if you were, if he were, if she were…).

So why is this verb mood important? It tells us that Aladdin thinks he will never be rich. After all, he doesn’t have a genie to help him with that…yet.

Disney's Aladdin on manners of the rich

If only I had a genie…

Once Aladdin finds Genie, he never uses the subjunctive mood again. Why? Because he knows that his wishes will come true. They are no longer unlikely to happen. So, unlike the rest of us, he doesn’t need to think about when to use the subjunctive mood.

After talking about this, now I really want a genie. I’m sure it would improve my mood. Imagine the possibilities…