Obligate: Two Words, One Spelling

I read a book in which the big baddy was an organization called Obligate. The author chose not to explain the reason for that name until halfway through the story, which meant that I did not know how to pronounce it for about two hundred pages. It surprised me how distracting that was.

If you are scratching your head, wondering what other pronunciation I’m writing about, this post is for you. Obligate does double duty, as both a verb and an adjective. You pronounce the two forms differently, however. When used as a verb, whether it’s compelling someone or committing funds, you say OB-li-gate (with a long A). That’s the form with which most people are familiar.

However, if you’re a biologist you likely use the word much differently. When referring to an organism that can live only in a particular environment or in a specific role in an ecosystem you call it OB-li-gƏt (with a short A represented by the schwa). The dictionary says you can use the long-A pronunciation of obligate as an alternate but it seems to me that doing so would only create confusion.

In case you’re curious, the organization in the book used the second definition and thus, when reading to myself, I used the short-A pronunciation of obligate. The rest of the book was much more interesting when I didn’t stop to wonder about that every third page. Think about how your readers will interpret such ambiguous words when you’re naming things in your own writing.

There! You get both a language and a writing tip in one post, something as dual-purpose as the word obligate itself.

Word Tidbits: Discreet versus Discrete

I doubt most people realize that discrete and discreet are discretely separate words. Today I thought I’d explain the slight difference between the two adjectives and clear up any confusion.

Discreet refers to cautious or tactful action. The word generally applies to something secret, such as a discreet rendezvous, or that you wish kept quiet, like dropping a discreet word in someone’s ear to let them know they have toilet paper stuck to their shoe after a trip to the facilities. Off the top of my head I can think of only one way I’ve seen discrete used regularly: to follow someone at a discrete distance.

While at first blush the two words look interchangeable in fact the latter implies not secrecy but separation. Discrete means something that is isolated or distinct from something else. Much of the confusion between the two words arises from the fact that people who follow someone at a discrete distance are usually trying to be discreet. Were they not they would simply travel with the person they’re trailing in the first place, thus eliminating the need for discretion entirely.

In that last sentence we find the rest of the reason that people conflate discreet and discrete. The noun form of both words is identical. It’s no wonder people don’t realize they are two discrete terms. Next time I'll post a difference on two more discrete words: confuse and conflate. Be discreet and don't spread it around, okay?

Hyphens and the Compound Adjective

We’ve never tackled compound adjectives, here on One Step Forward, partly because it’s such a complex subject. Often you can make your sentence clearer by using an adjectival phrase or clause rather than worrying about whether to hyphenate. But today we’re going to ease your fears and explain just when to put that pesky hyphen between words in a compound adjective.

Here’s the short version: hyphenate when you place the compound adjective in the sentence before the noun.

This too-simple rule, however, does not address some specific kinds of adjectives. For instance, you would hyphenate a “one-week extension” but you would not add a hyphen to the possessive form, “one week’s extension”. And then there are compound adjectives that you write as a single word, a surefire way to confuse people.

Add to this the fact that, in a passive construction where the adjective end up as the predicate you still hyphenate. Thus you would write about a hard-core song, “This song is hard-core.” User-friendly programs are user-friendly.

Note that a compound adjective can consist of other parts of speech. You may have a noun and a participle, as with an attention-getting headline, or even a pair of nouns used to describe a third. The latter depends more on the nature of the words used than the placement. You would write about an African-American teacher but a Supreme Court decision, the space-time continuum but a real estate exam.

When the nouns refer to a well-known concept or an institution they need not be hyphenated. Thus a life insurance salesman does not require a hyphen while a roller-derby skater might. You may fill out your tax return form but only after performing a cost-benefit analysis.

“Wait!” you may cry. “Everyone knows what a cost-benefit analysis is.” But therein lies another wrinkle in the hyphenation question. Two nouns of essentially equal importance should be hyphenated when used as a compound adjective. Whether the social or the security means more, you still get a social security check if you qualify.

All of this ignores the fact that some pairs of words become a single, compound word and others do not. Skin diving stays just that when used as an adjective but skydiving is a single word. Housewarming parties get no hyphen but your house-sitter does. Adding more modifiers to a noun doesn’t change the hyphenation rules, either. The ever-popular, oft-misunderstood space-time continuum keeps all of those little dashes.

So how do you figure out whether to hyphenate commonly-used phrases? Sadly, the best answer remains the same thing your mother told you when you asked her how to spell something: look it up in the dictionary. Maybe someday I’ll be brave enough to tackle compound adverbs.

Word Tidbits: Do You Want Your Cake to be Moist?

I thought I’d do a little exploration of synonyms and how words convey different meanings. This all started with a rant about the word “moist” and my feeling that it ought not to be applied to food. I was brought up short by the question of what word could possibly be placed on cake mix boxes and food commercials that would give the same sense as “moist” without the dirt-and-worms connotations it carries for me.

Though I did not have a ready answer, I turned to my trusty thesaurus, hoping for a little enlightenment. Words like “damp”, “dank”, and “wet” certainly would not work as appetizing food descriptions. Who wants to be told that the muffins you spent so long baking were “soggy” or, worse yet, “tacky”?

Similarly, “muggy”, “humid”, and “sodden” don’t really convey the texture desirable in such baked goods. While “rich”, “creamy”, and “buttery” give favorable impressions they don’t precisely address the moisture content of a dessert. The visual often used in commercials of sticking the crumbs together with a fork implies just what we want—delicious, soft, tasty, somewhat gooey without being sloppy or undercooked and crumbly without being dry—but what word can carry quite that much freight?

And so, my dear readers, I turn to you. Can you think of a word that does what “moist” intends when applied to describing food? I’m open to suggestions but if you must resort to inventing a word, try to avoid overly-cute or obviously made-up terms like “pudding-y”. Think of this as a freelance PR assignment: Betty Crocker commissioned you to find a new word for the millions of boxed cake mixes the company ships every year. Give me your best shot!

Pizza Hut Fails Basic Grammar

As if Apple's grammatical abandonment weren't bad enough, now Pizza Hut has joined the refusal to use proper English grammar in their advertisements. I know that they've chosen the word because it so obviously breaks the rules, but I hardly think that's the best way to teach our children how to intensify their modifiers. (All of this ignores the nutritional atrocities that this product will commit, but One Step Forward is not a health blog so I'll leave those out of this post.)

Should you be unaware of the reason I find this ad objectionable, the adjective "awesome" (overused as it is) does not follow the -er and -est pattern when you compare just how awesome two things are. As someone concerned with using intelligent English, you use more and most to intensify the awesomeness (I can't believe I just wrote that). Like Apple and their "funnest iPod" ads, the company has chosen to use slang to garner your attention. Like those same ads, I choose to excoriate the choice (and the choosers) rather than be convinced how "hip" and awesome they want me to believe they are. I can't say that I'd have expected better from Pizza Hut, as I had from Apple, but I still consider them unhelpful in the extreme, when it comes to teaching people the finer points of the English language.

Word Tidbits: Ruthless

When writing descriptions of an evil foe, terms like tireless, relentless, fearless, and ruthless come to mind. Of those, most are easily defined. The -less suffix indicates that the noun so described lacks the root word, as a tireless leader does not tire and a fearless enemy attacks without fear. What, however, is a ruthless tirant without?

The word ruthless comes to us not from the name Ruth but from the twelfth-century word “reuwen”, a verb meaning “to rue” or regret. Over the next couple of centuries, it grew into “reuthe”, a word for pity or compassion, much as the adjective “true” grew “truth” as a noun.

Reuwen has fallen out of use, as has reuthe or ruth as a word for mercy. Ruthless, however, turned out to be such a striking and useful word that its use has continued for another seven or eight hundred years. If case you wonder, ruthful was used for many years to indicate a kind and benignant individual. Apparently, such folks have become nigh impossible to find and the word dropped from language radar in the eighteenth century except when a writer or speaker intentionally meant to use an archaic word.

Loath and Loathe

Loath and loathe comprise two sides of the same linguistic coin. You can find many instances of the words being used interchangeably, perhaps because the pronunciations appear identical in text, but the silent "e" in loathe indicates that the word is a different part of speech.

Loth, or loath, works as a predicate adjective and means that the subject is unwilling or reluctant to act. Often, writers use loath to indicate that a character doesn't want to do something that they will do, whether by choice or not. "Bob was loath to touch the gelatinous goo, but reached out a trembling, exploratory finger anyway." The word it pronounced just how it looks, with a long "o" sound.

Loathe, on the other hand, acts as a verb, indicating that the subject hates, detests, or is disgusted by something. "Bob loathed the way the goo oozed about the table, seeming to search for a way to escape." Check the Merriam Webster page for the pronunciation. I can't think of a way to explain the "-the" sound here.

So, you can be loath to do what you loathe. While some placed claim that the spellings are interchangeable, I'd be loath to use them so. It would serve only to confuse readers because they won't be able to tell the difference on the screen or page. Forcing them to stop reading and start interpreting weakens your writing and make readers far more likely to stop entirely. I'd loathe that, personally.

The -Ous Suffix

I’ve spent a few days searching for a definition of the adjective suffix -ous. One would think, given the thousands of English grammar and language sites on-line, that finding such a definition would be simple. One would be mistaken. I found many sites that purport to list suffixes and their respective meanings, but nary a one included a -us or -ous ending. Thus, I’ve begun a list of such words and an inexact definition of each.

I aim, here, to find a meaning of the -ous suffix for adjectives. Thus, the following “definitions” focus on what that suffix adds to the root word rather than the meaning of the word as a whole. As a rule, dictionary and etymology resources cite Latin origins for these words ending in -us. Then again, many Latin words share that ending and do not take an –ous suffix, so I can’t leap to the conclusion that those two circumstances are related.

If you know of anything that these words share in common in their respective histories, please let me know. You may see a theme emerging, below. If I find or learn more, especially a more widely-accepted definition, I’ll post again. Until that happens, my list stands as follows:

• tortuous (and circuitous) - in a complicated or round-about manner
• devious - in a deviant or devilish manner
• capricious - in the manner of caprice (a whim)
• joyous - in a joyful manner
• felicitous - in a happy manner
• delicious - in a delightful manner
• porous - having pores (in an open or penetrable manner)
• voluminous - having volume (in a large manner)

Comparative Adjectives Work Better

Today's public service announcement concerns comparative adjectives and the abuse thereof. Be careful when using these handy tools and remember that an added suffix that shows the degree of comparison makes a “more” or “most” superfluous.

While Branford Marsalis may have believed that he had more better blues than, say, Satchmo or BB King, what he really had was Spike Lee's grammatical error. Comparative adjectives and adverbs like better and taller work without the modifier “more”, unless you use the positive form (more swift or more good, although the latter makes no sense when better is around).

You can say that Mr. Marsalis plays more, better blues. In this case, you apply two comparative adjective to one noun, “blues”. You could also write that Keb' Mo' has more and better blues than Johnny Lang. The problem comes when you attempt to make a comparative adjective more so. Daft Punk may work better, harder, faster, and stronger, but they would never act “more faster”. They may, however, move more quickly, using an adverb modified by the comparative “more”.

You need “more” and “most” only when the word you choose does not accept the “-(i)er” or “-(i)est” suffixes and does not have irregular forms like bad, worse, and worst. You could write about the more haphazard arrangements or the most beautiful sunsets, but the beautifulest landfill exists only in the minds of lazy grammarians.

I need not make this post longer. Someday soon, I'll tackle the list of adjectives that does not accept degrees of comparison. Many fans of the English language hold that pet peeve near and dear. Until then, be cautious in your comparisons.

Adverse versus Averse: I'd Rather Not

Adverse conditions make me averse to work. How often we see these two words confused for one another, forced to assume roles for which they are ill-suited. Let us take a moment and review the abused and confused meanings.

If you would label something “adverse”, it must be hostile to or unfavorable for something else. Adverse current keep sailboats from landing. Stockbrokers sell when they read adverse financial reports. You use adverse as an adjective to explain that the related noun works against another thing.

Averse is also used as an adjective, and can also mean hostile. I'm not surprised that the two become confused in many writers' minds. The sense of the word generally indicates, however, a milder dislike or disinclination to act rather than actively working against an action. I may be averse to driving on the freeway, but I will do so when necessary. I'm not averse to a drink every now and again, but neither am I actively seeking one.

I could not come up with a sentence containing averse that did not have a passive construction. That seems fitting, considering the weakness of emotion it implies. You can change the first such example above to begin “I prefer not to drive on the freeway” without changing the meaning of the sentence. Thus, “I am averse to driving under adverse conditions” could be changed to “I would rather not drive in rough weather” without losing your point or confusing your readers.

Subtleties: Because of and Due To

Today I consider the subtle difference between “due to” and “because of”. Let's ignore the habit that many writers have of adding “the fact that” to these phrases. That's simple fluffery and deserves no quarter here. Consider the following:

Mike succeeded because of his dedication.
Mike's success was due to his dedication.

“Because of” modifies verbs, as seen in the first example. That makes it an adverb, for those of you who care about labels. “Due to” acts as an adjective. Why? No one seems to know, or particularly care, from what I could find. Apparently this question was debated a hundred years ago, but no clear winner arose.

Until the dust settles, consider this was to decide which phrase to use: eliminate the phrase and ask why. For the first sentence above, you'd be left with “Mike succeeded.” Why? “Because of his dedication.” You don't need a full sentence to answer the question, just the phrase you removed.

The second sentence would read, “Mike's success was.” Asking why makes no sense, here. Thus, you would use “due to”.

If you've been paying attention, you'll notice that “due to” follows “to be” verbs and act as predicate adjectives. I've tried to find or write an example in which that did not happen but have not found one. You should care because that means that “due to” lives in passive sentences, generally if not strictly. If you've read this blog before, you know how strongly I feel about avoiding the passive voice.

If you can think of or find an example that proves me wrong, please post it in the comments. And I do realize that "fluffery" isn't a word. I was only testing you.

Back to Basics: Adjectives

You use an adjective to describe or modify a noun or pronoun. They help you write specific descriptions and sentences. You can have too much of a good thing, however. Which of the following sentences would you rather read?

A tall, thin woman with red hair walked quickly into the room.

A lanky red-head strode into the room.

You need adjectives to draw a mental picture for your reader, but be careful that they don't become a crutch. Remember the old writing adage: show, don't tell. When you find yourself using three adjectives to describe a single thing, try to find words that do the job of two or more of the ones you've used.

Now that you've been warned of the seductive dangers of adjectives, let's take a look at some ways they are used. As above, many are directly linked to their subject. In fact, when getting creative about describing nouns, you need to pay attention to where your adjectives land. You may accidentally modify the wrong thing by trying to get your adjectives farther from your nouns.

For a thorough explanation of adjectives, adjectival clauses, and participles—those are verbs dressed in adjective clothing—take a gander through Capital Community College page about adjectives. I chose their page because they expose the seamy underbelly of Thomas Wolfe, teeming with descriptors rather than strong prose.

The page also has a list of adjectives that cannot be used in degrees. I can sound more intelligent than my brother, but the vote on that is either unanimous or it isn't. You can't have be more unanimous than unanimous.

I think that's enough on adjectives on this Thanksgiving Thursday. I'll return tomorrow, perhaps with more modifiers. Only time will tell.

Adverbs and Adjectives: Use Them Surely

As you may have noticed, my Internet access has been spotty lately. I hate to mention it every time I cannot post, but I want to apologize for the erratic schedule here, especially in light of my promise to post more on adverbs and adjectives yesterday. I hope that today’s post on that subject will make up for it, a bit.

As I mentioned in my post on the use of http://legbamel.blogspot.com/2007/10/classic-battle-of-good-versus-well.html good versus well, adverbs are words that modify or describe verbs. In many cases, you can make an adverb by adding an “-ly” to the end of an adjective. Thus you can write:

I was tense. (Tense describes you and shows itself as an adjective.)
I paced tensely. (Tensely describes your pacing rather than you, although the fact that you are pacing in such a manner implies that you are, in fact, tense.)

There are a few rules that will help you decide whether an adjective or an adverb fits a particular sentence.

If you are using a form of “to be” then the predicate (the part after the verb) describes the subject rather than the “being”. Then again, the war on the passive voice should eliminate the “being” in favor of acting.

If your verb involves one of the senses (seeing, smelling, touching) then the rest of the sentence either describes the subject with an adjective or explains how the subject used that sense with an adverb.

The pie smelled delicious. (It was a delicious-smelling pie, rather than one that smelled other things in a delicious manner, whatever that may be.)
He sniffed the pie delicately. (He gave the pie a delicate sniff, as opposed to the
pie being delicate.)
The knives looked sharp.
She eyed the knives warily.

Using adverbs to describe the action in your sentences can help to set a scene without resorting to telling your readers what happens or how a character is feeling. Be wary, however, of adding too many. They can make your sentence awkward and wordy instead of adding clarity. Writing, “She walked forcefully across the room,” doesn’t make quite the impression that “She strode across the room.” If you need to modify your verb with an adverb, check to see if there a better verb would do the work for itself. The advice holds true for using adjectives as well. Remember your friend, the thesaurus!

For an excellent review and great examples of adverbs that do not use the “-ly” addition, visit the Internet Grammar of English pages.

The Classic Battle of Good Versus Well

Here, again, you find a pet peeve that has plagued grammar geeks for decades. If you ask someone, “How are you?” the grammatical response remains, “I am well.” If you don't know why, read on dear reader.

“Good” is an adjective. The word describes something else. “Well” is an adverb, describing or clarifying a verb rather than an object.

That can be difficult to determine. If you are “good at” doing something then you do it “well”. The words are so close in meaning (in this context) that sentence structure rules your word choice.

And why, you ask, does that matter? Well bless your heart and thanks for asking. It matters because knowing the difference will allow you to write clearly. If you mean that someone is a good person you can say, “Beth is good.” If you want to say that she is feeling good you can say, “Beth is well.”

In the first instance, you are describing Beth. It's what kind of Beth she is. The second sentence describes Beth's state of being. She is, and that “is” is just fine, thank you. You can move on to more descriptive sentences like, “Beth is a good dancer,” and, “Beth dances well.”

Tomorrow I'll write about what this all means in a broader sense. Knowing when to use an adjective rather than an adverb helps you to write well. A good reader can spot a mistake a mile away.