Words, words, words…

You know the feeling – you’re part way through a new book, but it’s not really grabbing you.  How far do you go before you decide to pack it in?

Here’s a simple rule to follow.  Subtract your age from 100. The number you get is the number of pages you read. If you still don’t like the book at that point, don’t persist. It’s okay to close it up and go on to a new one.

For example, if your age is 45, read 55 pages and then decide. The older you are, the less you have to read before you decide to throw in the towel.

It makes sense, in a strangely logical way. Some books get off to a slow start but then pick up. On the other hand, readers needn’t waste time on books they don’t like, especially older readers with fewer years remaining.

I also have a second rule:  use the library. This rule makes it much easier to follow the first. When you buy a book from a bookstore you want to read it to the end, even when you’re not loving it.

I rediscovered the public library about 10 years ago. When I come across a book that sounds interesting, I reserve it online. By using the library I read more than I did before. I also come across some wonderful new books and authors that I would never have risked when paying cash.

There are so many really good books out there, and the library is a great way to discover them.  It’s also a fantastic public service that should never be taken for granted. Support the library and you’ll become a much wider and better informed reader. You’ll also be doing the right thing.

On Friday night, I interviewed a Chinese man by telephone from Hong Kong.

His English was not only clear and grammatical, it was idiomatic. He expressed himself colorfully and with charm. As it happens, the man also speaks Japanese fluently.

It got me thinking about us Anglophones. You know, the folks who are convinced that the rest of the world speaks English for our convenience, along with whatever quaint languages they may have grown up with. The ones who expect new immigrants to pick up English at lightning speed, and get annoyed when their accents are hard to understand over the telephone. The global spoiled brats, who often make only token efforts to speak the lingua franca when they travel.

And in Canada, an officially bilingual country – well, don’t get me started. I’m ashamed to admit that although I studied French until first year university, today I’d be hard put to order a glass of wine in Quebec. (Which, when you think about it, is sad on a lot of levels.)

Really, we monoglots are the losers. Learning another language is an intellectual challenge that’s good for your brain. It gives you a better understanding of other cultures. It makes travel easier.  It is an increasingly critical business tool. It’s a great way to meet people.

Along with the multitude of other advantages, learning another language helps you learn and appreciate your own. Don’t understand the difference between passive and active voice in English? That’s probably because you never learned it in French.

If you like words, a second language gives you twice as many to like. As the Czech proverb says, “You live a new life for every new language you speak. If you know only one language, you live only once.”

I recently downloaded Skype on a new computer. Within seconds of setting up my account, I received an email with the subject line: “A very warm welcome to Skype.”

I was surprised by how those words affected me. “Skype really cares,” I thought, putting aside my cynical self for a moment.  The email went on to give a few simple and friendly tips on how to use the service.  I felt as if I had made a personal connection.

The lesson is clear: simple, direct and friendly language is the best way to communicate. If a giant internet company can figure it out, maybe others can too.

I just read an article that cited a study from the University of California. “Your email could be killing you,” the article said.  Researchers tested workers’ stress levels by attaching heart monitors. They found that stress levels in people were much lower when they only checked email twice a day, instead of whenever it came in.  The study also showed that people who took email vacations for a day or so were not only more relaxed, but more productive.

Email often feels impersonal and peremptory. Even a friendly subject line will make your reader feel good.

Confused by that double negative title? Not as confused as some corporate communicators are about the unwritten Golden Rule: “Never say anything even faintly negative.”

Recently I drafted a newsletter article in which I used the word “challenging” to describe a major project undertaken by a dedicated team within the organization. My client’s reaction was swift:  no negativity!

Leaving aside the question of whether challenging is a negative word, why are we so obsessed with painting everything – and I mean everything – in pink glitter paint?

Sometimes the story you’re telling involves people overcoming struggles or dealing with complexity. Ignoring the challenges simply discounts the achievement.

Have you ever spent a rainy day at a cottage, only to see the most glorious sunset as the sky finally begins to clear? The contrast between the grey afternoon and the splendour of the evening is what makes the moment memorable.  Similarly, contrasting where we were to where we are now makes an achievement stand out even more.

Often avoiding negativity means losing all credibility. I mean, really, who are you kidding when you pretend that everything is great all the time?

The never negative rule is especially difficult when you’re talking about making improvements. How can you improve on perfection?

Here’s one of my favourite quotations, which as you will see, uses the negative to strengthen the positive:

“Never explain, never complain. Get the thing done and let them howl.”

(That’s Canada’s own Nellie McClung, by the way.) Negative words to live by!

I recently read a feature article in the New Yorker magazine, entitled Battleground America, by Jill Lepore. The article talks about gun control, and how the debate has changed over the past 200 years. This is how it begins:

“Just after seven-thirty on the morning of February 27^th, a seventeen-year-old boy named T.J. Lane walked into the cafeteria at Chardon High School, about 30 miles outside Cleveland. It was a Monday, and the cafeteria was filled with kids, some eating breakfast, some waiting for buses to drive them to programs at other schools, some packing up for gym class. Lane sat down at an empty table, reached into a bag, and pulled out a .22-calibre pistol. He stood up, raised the gun, and fired. He said not a word.”

The force of this opening comes from two things: the writer tells a story, and uses very simple words to tell it. When combined, story-telling and plain language can be very powerful.

Many articles about gun control start with big words and complicated sentences. I often don’t get past the first paragraph. This article was one I didn’t put down.

The gross national product does not allow for the

health of our children, the quality of their education,

or the joy of their play.

It does not include

the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages;

the intelligence of our public debate or

the integrity of our public officials.

It measures neither our wit nor our courage;

neither our wisdom nor our learning;

neither our compassion

nor our devotion to our country;

it measures everything, in short,

except that which makes life worthwhile.

Robert F. Kennedy, 1968

Two highly-touted new television shows have appeared on the schedule, both with intriguing one-word titles – Touch and Awake. Both have high-concept premises and each one has a big star– Kiefer Sutherland in the case of Touch and Jason Isaacs, a hunky British actor, in Awake.

At our house we’re always hungry for intelligent television. That was an oxymoron as little as a decade ago, but since the ground-breaking work of shows like Six Feet Under and West Wing it’s no longer a stretch. So we watched both pilots and the first two episodes of each show.

And guess what? We fell big time for Awake, but no longer put the PVR on for Touch.  Taste is a personal thing of course, and there are lots of factors involved. But when we talked about it one night, we realized that the big difference for us was in the writing.

There’s nothing fancy about the dialogue in Awake but it’s tight and mostly feels pretty real.  Although the premise is fantastical, the plots are delicately wrought and have internal logic. The characters are believable and in most case, likeable. There are touches of humour, just as there are in real life. All in all, not rocket science but excellent story-telling.

Come to think of it, creating a compelling story – whether on network television or in your monthly newsletter – is a bit like building a rocket. There are lots of moving parts, and it takes skill to put them together right. But when you do, things can really take off.

Happy viewing.

Back in the days of Ronald Reagan, Republicans were arguing about whether to hold the line on taxes. Moderate republicans wanted to make the following proposal: “We oppose any attempts to increase taxes which would harm the recovery.”

Conservative republicans made a small change to the proposal. They inserted a comma before which, to read: “We oppose any attempts to increase taxes, which would harm the recovery.” The revision was passed, but of course it entirely changed the meaning of the sentence. The new proposal ruled out all tax increases.

Grammatically, the conservative republicans were right to insert the comma before which. People have a lot of difficulty knowing how to use that or which. Here’s the rule:

That is used to introduce a phrase that is essential to the meaning of the sentence, such as: He wants to buy the car that has only 5,000 miles on it. A that phrase is usually not preceded by a comma.

Which is used to introduce a phrase that is not essential to the meaning of the sentence, such as: He wants to buy the red car, which has leather upholstery and a sun roof. A which phrase is usually preceded by a comma.

It may seem like a small difference, but it can have a huge impact on the meaning of a sentence. If moderate republicans had used that instead of which, who knows how history might have changed. Perhaps the very rich would be paying more taxes!

I’ve recently noticed a very common grammatical error creeping into a lot of written and spoken communication.

It has to do with confusing the subjective and objective forms of the first person singular pronoun.

Sound complicated and technical? Not really. Here’s what I mean:

“He is anxious to discuss this issue with you and I.”

(Microsoft Word is up on this one, and underlined “I” for me when I typed it out.)

In this sentence “you and I” is an objective phrase following the preposition “with.” “You,” of course, is the same in the subjective and objective. But the objective form of the first person is “me.” So to be correct, the sentence should read, “He is anxious to discuss the issue with you and me.”

But there’s something about “I” that sounds, well, grammatical to many of us. And it would be if the sentence read, “He is anxious that you and I discuss the issue with him.”

Does it really matter? Ah, there’s the rub. The meaning is clear either way. This is, I’m afraid, a grammar-for-grammar’s-sake issue.

On our trip to England last week Pat and I decided to travel light. That meant no paper books, just our Kindle and newly purchased Kobo.

Like many people who love to read, I at first resisted the move to e-readers. But I quickly learned that it’s the content of a book, not the physical trappings, that makes the experience so stimulating.

Books have certain advantages, but when you’re travelling, e-readers win hands down. They are very light and easy to carry around in a purse or backpack. They are easier on the eyes in a dimly lit room or plane. If you happen to fall asleep, they tend to stay on your lap without falling and waking you up.

However, I have one regret. I thought I was doing the smart thing by loading up some guidebooks on my Kindle. A guidebook is something to skim through, flipping back and forth to find what you want. This can be an exercise in frustration on an e-reader. As I took in the sights of London I was very envious of people poring over their dog-eared Frommers or Fodors.

Some people say that paper books will become obsolete. I don’t think so – certainly not guidebooks. Next time I travel abroad I’ll just make a little extra space.