Birth of a word: systemness?

Source: Wikimedia Commons public domain photo with
text added by author.

I was all set to rail against abuse of language in this blog post (and I may still, depending on where my rambling thoughts take me as I compose; writing is thinking, after all). Recently I received an email at work containing this bullet point: “Aligning our strategies to a point of coherent systemness.” And I thought, systemness? What the %!&$ is that?!? Houston, we have achieved incoherence! Then my wife told me that “systemness” is a term she hears often in the health-care management field. So I googled systemness (there are two words that didn’t exist 20 years ago) and sure enough wikipedia (another recently-coined word) defined it as a neologism that means “the state, quality, or condition of a complex system, that is, of a set of interconnected elements that behave as, or appear to be, a whole, exhibiting behavior distinct from the behavior of the parts.” Well, butter my biscuit, who knew?

New words have continually been invented throughout the history of the English language. In fact, Shakespeare was one of the most prolific and playful coiners of new words of all time. That is not to say that “systemness” is worthy of Shakespeare, or even worthy of a dictionary entry at the moment. At best, it is management-speak jargon. If it manages to gather enough cachet in our culture, perhaps “systemness” will one day merit a dictionary listing. Again, that is not to say that each word in the dictionary is an equally worthy word. I once read this word in a piece of writing: “originization.” This will always be a horrid word, even if it were to snake its way into the lexicon. Basically, this writer was trying to think of the noun form of the verb “originate” but proceeded to lengthen the word instead of bothering to think of the perfectly good (and shorter) noun form that already exists: origin. I’m still not sure about “systemness.” My gut instinct is to despise it. But only time will tell the fate of this so-called word.

© 2014 Bob Dial.  All rights reserved.

Animate a moribund lead sentence: don’t let your first impression become a last impression

Perhaps you’ve heard the expression “a first impression is a lasting impression”? Well, be forewarned: in writing, a first impression can become the last impression if you fail to whet the reader’s desire to keep reading.

If only I had a dollar for every dull first sentence I’ve ever read, such as:

The book I chose to write about is ...

My book report is about …

In contrast to coma-inducing lead sentences like those two above, check out the opening of Simon Winchester’s book The Professor and the Madman: A Tale of Murder, Insanity and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary:

Popular myth has it that one of the most remarkable conversations in modern literary history took place on a cool and misty late autumn in 1896, in the small village of Crowthorne in the county of Berkshire.

Now this is a lead sentence guaranteed to generate desire in a reader to keep reading (as opposed to “The book I chose to write about is The Professor and the Madman…). How can any reader not want to learn how and why “one of the most remarkable conversations in modern literary history” took place in some remote English village nobody has ever heard of before? What’s the story behind that? Winchester, of course, continues to deliver throughout the opening chapter (the preface, actually) until we discover at the end that the meeting was between a famous lexicographer and the doctor who has helped him enormously in the task of creating his monumental dictionary -- a doctor who turns out (unbeknownst to the lexicographer) to be an inmate in an asylum for criminal lunatics. Modern literary history isn’t your cup of tea? Try the same technique with a different topic: “Popular myth has it that one of the most remarkable events in sports history took place on a dusty field in 1972, in an abandoned oil-company town in Oklahoma.” If you are a sports fan, wouldn’t you want to find out about this event lost to obscurity?

Notice too how Winchester (or maybe his book editor) knows how to pique interest using the book’s subtitle, which juxtaposes the salivating terms murder and insanity with the august Oxford English Dictionary. How can such unlikely things be paired together, the book browser wonders?

There are, of course, probably more than a thousand and one ways to entice the reader’s interest at the start of a piece of writing, but one of them certainly is NOT “The book I chose to write about is…”

© 2014 Bob Dial.  All rights reserved.

An everyday writing mistake that occurs every day

Here’s a mistake I see every day in student writing: confusing “everyday” with “every day.” The former is a one-word adjective and thus should be used to modify a noun. For example, writing is an everyday activity for me. The adjective “everyday” (one word) modifies the noun “activity.” Alternatively, “every day” (used as two words) is already an adjective phrase (an adjective plus a noun). The noun “day” is modified by the adjective “every.” This phrase means the same as “each day.” Writing is an activity I pursue every day. (While I’m on the topic, never write the horribly redundant phrase “each and every day” -- or even worse, "each and every single day"). For some reason, my high school students invariable reverse the usages and use “every day” as an adjective and “everyday” as a adjective phrase. I’m not sure why, but I see this error every day.

© 2014 Bob Dial.  All rights reserved.

Hmmm … do we need less fewers or fewer lesses??

Some writers mistakenly swap words that serve similar functions. One example of this phenomenon involves the word pairing “less” and “fewer” (or “less than” and “fewer than,” depending on usage). You should use “less” when describing a mass that has no discrete elements (like oil or milk), but use “fewer” when describing something made up of quantifiable units (like eggs or chairs). For example, never write “I saw less than 100 people at the concert” because theoretically you are able to count the number of concert-goers in attendance. In this case, use “fewer than 100 people” instead. By the same token, you would never write “I have fewer milk now than I used to.” That just sounds wrong, right? Instead (of course) you would write “I have less milk now than I used to.”

A related example involves the word pairing “amount” and “number.” Again, you would never write “a large amount of people attended the concert.” These music lovers can be counted, so write “a large number of people attended the concert.” Likewise, you would never write “I have a greater number of milk now,” but would of course write “I have a greater amount of milk now.” Use “number” when the items are quantifiable and reserve “amount” for materials not divisible into discrete items.

Now I don't know whether to solve a math problem, listen to a song, or read a book!

© 2014 Bob Dial.  All rights reserved.

Write what you know: ten story idea starters

In high school, creative writing assignments (short stories and one-act plays, in my case) tend to generate out-of-this-world story ideas. Settings that students choose might range from deepest outer space to the inner workings of the Kremlin in the old Soviet Union. Invariably, students have little or no firsthand knowledge of these places, and they would be much better served to write about the world they know. With that in mind, I wrote the following ten story starters that live a little closer to home.

1. Students are standing in the serving line in the cafeteria, or sitting at a cafeteria table. Perhaps they start out by complaining about the food. Then a more important issue arises -- perhaps a dispute between two students, or a boyfriend-girlfriend issue. Perhaps a food-fight erupts (maybe this tale is a farce)? The cafeteria aides could be characters too.
2. Students are riding on a bus. Are there differences among the students based on where they sit on the bus (social hierarchy)? Perhaps there is a traffic accident, or perhaps the students see something incredible or remarkable going on outside the bus? How do they react?

3. Students in a writing group are trying to brainstorm ideas. This could be a story about the story your group is trying to write right now. Do they disagree? What conclusions do they reach? This could be a real mind-blower (a story within a story)!
4. A boyfriend-girlfriend emotional conflict could be central to your tale. The other friends could be characters as well. Rumors and arguments circulate and could be part of the dramatic action.

5. Students are in the detention room / in-school suspension room. Perhaps something happens that causes a conflict between two students, or between a student and the detention supervisor. Perhaps two characters find they have something in common or come to a new understanding of, and respect for, each other. (Yes, I know this idea is very derivative of the film The Breakfast Club…)
6. Fans are in the stands at a high school sporting event. Does something exciting happen during the game? How do the fans react to this event? Confine your story to the bleachers.
7. Students are in a classroom, and the teacher leaves the room and never comes back during the course of the story. What do the students do? What happens?
8. A fire drill occurs. Perhaps it leads to a mysterious discovery of something or someone outside the school. What happens next?
9. What happens during a dodge ball game (or pick any other sport of your choice)? Do two students in the dodge-ball game have a “history” and are in conflict? How does that play out during the game?
10. Thanksgiving dinner brings out issues and conflicts and relationships in a family. How are these situations resolved?

Or simply think of the myriad other situations students encounter on a daily basis: the SAT tests, going to the school nurse, a class in the art room, a school concert, etc., etc. In college, it might be the student union, a school club, the dorm, etc., etc. The possibilities are (literally) endless.

© 2014 Bob Dial.  All rights reserved.