A few days ago I received a PDF of the first pass of The Ionia Sanction. The first pass is not actually the first pass; it's more like the last pass. When a book is ready for the printers, the operations people typeset the entire book precisely as it will appear on the printed page. They send me a PDF, and that "first pass" is the final check before I say it's okay and they press the button to print real copies.
As soon as I opened the PDF I went straight to page 274, where I read this sentence:
"So you dealt with the farmer."
And I breathed a prayer of thanks to Editor Kathleen, because there's an irregular verb in that sentence. Yay!
One of the biggest differences between North American English and everyone else's, although it's hardly the most obvious point, is the ruthless elimination of irregular verbs. I guess there are still a few lurking around, but they're probably running scared.
When I saw that change in the copyedits, I wrote in the margin that if I couldn't have the irregular form, then let me know and I'd rewrite the sentence to avoid the problem. Because the regular form sounds totally wrong. Very luckily for me -- and I suspect few authors have this luck -- my editor actually listened to my concerns. Thanks Kathleen!
"So you dealt with the farmer."
"So you dealed with the farmer."
Say them both together and you'll hear the second is a beat longer. It lacks punch. The whole rhythm is changed when you standardize the language to a metronomic regularity. I'm sure most writers would agree that we hear the sound values before ever we write the words, and the rhythm matters a lot. Having the option to insert a punchy -t participle is an important part of the toolkit for controlling how the reader feels about what they're reading.
Does it really matter if we have two different past participles for the same word in a single book? The counter-argument goes that standardization makes text easier to read, but watch any teenager write a text message and you'll see that standardization is the last thing on their minds. Yet they understand each other just fine.
The greatest ever writer of the English language was a man who couldn't spell his own name the same way twice. Clearly standardization isn't necessary to quality!
As soon as I opened the PDF I went straight to page 274, where I read this sentence:
"So you dealt with the farmer."
And I breathed a prayer of thanks to Editor Kathleen, because there's an irregular verb in that sentence. Yay!
One of the biggest differences between North American English and everyone else's, although it's hardly the most obvious point, is the ruthless elimination of irregular verbs. I guess there are still a few lurking around, but they're probably running scared.
I wrote that sentence as you see it. Irregular verbs are very normal to me and, frankly, sound better. Also, if you're writing historicals, irregular forms sound older to give a patina of age. The copyeditor, quite correctly and in accordance with the deified Chicago Manual of Style, struck through my lovely -t, and replaced it with an ugly -ed.
"So you dealed with the farmer."
This to me means the farmer is a pack of cards.
I'll be in therapy for years to get over it, but I totally accept standardization as a general rule. That's what most of my audience are used to. Why make life hard for readers? That would be a crazy thing to do.
But the fact is, standardizing English also has the effect of sterilizing it. There's a subtle rhythm to good English prose that everyone responds to, even if many people can't hear it. If every word follows the same pattern then it's like music with only one beat.
But the fact is, standardizing English also has the effect of sterilizing it. There's a subtle rhythm to good English prose that everyone responds to, even if many people can't hear it. If every word follows the same pattern then it's like music with only one beat.
"So you dealt with the farmer."
"So you dealed with the farmer."
Say them both together and you'll hear the second is a beat longer. It lacks punch. The whole rhythm is changed when you standardize the language to a metronomic regularity. I'm sure most writers would agree that we hear the sound values before ever we write the words, and the rhythm matters a lot. Having the option to insert a punchy -t participle is an important part of the toolkit for controlling how the reader feels about what they're reading.
Does it really matter if we have two different past participles for the same word in a single book? The counter-argument goes that standardization makes text easier to read, but watch any teenager write a text message and you'll see that standardization is the last thing on their minds. Yet they understand each other just fine.
The greatest ever writer of the English language was a man who couldn't spell his own name the same way twice. Clearly standardization isn't necessary to quality!