The early years

As I was growing up in smalltown Alabama, I always wanted to be a writer. From about the time I could hold a crayon, I was writing something. Writing on the walls. The kitchen table. Occasionally, on paper. From what my parents tell me, I could do this quite well at about the age of 3.

During my pre-teen years, I wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps and write songs, so music and lyrics were my first introduction to how beautiful language could be.

Eventually, I outgrew my songwriting phase. Be glad I did. The world certainly doesn’t need any more boy-band pop songs. I figured I could offer something of a little more substance to the world.

High school

In high school, I had the most wonderful English teacher. She was one of those teachers that understood that literacy is not just about basic reading and writing skills. Literature. Technology. Music. Film. Those are the things that matter. Don’t get me wrong. We still had to do the boring high school English class stuff. But, she opened my mind to the world outside of the small town I was living in.

At some point during my senior year I realized that I wanted to write. I mean really write. It was the first time I’d ever put “write a book” on my list of life goals.

College

I graduated from Auburn University in 2007 with a B.A. in English and a concentration in creative writing and journalism.

When I began college, I didn’t plan on having a degree in English. I was in software engineering. Then I was in hotel and restaurant management. Then I was in software engineering again. Like many other college students, I bounced around majors a few times. It was tough finding something that was both enjoyable and challenging.

Despite protests from friends and a few from my family, I decided to take the plunge and declare myself as an English major. What I found was something that I loved. How could anyone not love reading 20+ books a semester? I had the time of my life exploring ethnographic studies, novels, and even the Bible as literature.

Each professor impacted my life in some way. Each class allowed me to explore other cultures. Each friend I got to know, helped shape me.

By the time I graduated, I had narrowed my list of life goals down to a few things. At the top of that list: Write something that has an impact on someone’s life.

At some point during college, I also started learning HTML, CSS, PHP, and WordPress.

After college

Harsh realization that life is not all roses and peaches.

…Time spent wandering the globe…

I moved back to Alabama last year because I wanted to get back to my roots. I wanted to engulf myself in the white-trash, trailer-park, tobacco-chewing culture that I hadn’t been a part of in so long.

The plan: Observe the culture. Write.

I could give you at least 100 reasons why I haven’t finished a novel yet, but I won’t. There’s no point in trying to justify losing sight of my goal.

I also spent some more time playing around with WordPress during this phase of my life. I suppose that time could’ve been spent working on the great Southern American novel.

An opportunity

A few months ago, I received an email about collaborating on a WordPress plugin development book for Wrox, a company devoted to publishing books “by programmers for programmers.”

At first, I was a bit hesitant to take on any extra WordPress projects. It also meant that I wouldn’t be able to apply for teaching jobs this school year, which was one of my goals for 2010. And, it wasn’t quite what I had in mind when I put “write a book” on my list of life goals.

However, it was an opportunity to write about something I’m passionate about.

The book

We have a great team of WordPress minds melding for what will be an awesome WordPress plugin development book. Brad Williams, Ozh Richard, and I are the writers. We’ve also picked up Andrew Nacin as our WordPress technical editor.

As a sidenote to this: I’m convinced that Andrew is actually a super-advanced robot that has been programmed to do nothing other than write awesome WordPress code. And, I’m happy to have him on the team.

I don’t want to get into too many technical details about the book yet. I do want to say that it will be a great resource for professional plugin development. We will put everything we have into making this the best book on creating plugins available for WordPress.

For me, this book announcement is mostly about sharing my personal journey to this point. I am thankful that Wrox, Brad, and Ozh are giving me an opportunity to realize one of my lifelong dreams. And, I hope that all my readers will come along on this journey with me (and buy the book when it’s published in March).

Also, check out theses posts by Brad and Ozh:

• New Book: Professional WordPress Plugin Development
• Into Plugins? You Will Love This.

Note that some of these things, mostly the sections covering usage of numbers, strictly abide by the AP Stylebook. There are other style guides, but I’ve found that AP is much better for the blogging world because it is much like journalism.

Damage / damages

A hurricane causes damage, but a plaintiff was awarded damages in the trial. That’s the best way to remember it.

Daylight-saving time

It’s not daylight-savings time.

Decades

As I mentioned in the apostrophe section of A is for affect, apostrophes are tricky when writing about decades. Never use an apostrophe in 1990s; always use an apostrophe before ’90s.

The 1970s were great, but we had the time of our lives in the ’60s.

Different from / different than / differ with

Never use “different than.” Use “different from” instead, which means to be unlike. You “differ with” someone, which means to disagree.

Your dog’s tail is different from my dog’s tail.
I differ with Sarah on that issue.

Dimensions

Always use numerals when writing dimensions. Only use hyphens when the dimension is used as an adjective. I’ll just give you a few examples, so you can see how this works.

The 6-foot-10-inch man is the tallest on the team.
The man is 6 feet 10 inches tall.
The 5-by-12 room is small.
The room is 5 feet by 6 feet.
February’s blizzard in Alabama left 6 inches of snow.

Directions and regions

You shouldn’t capitalize the names of directions but always capitalize the names of regions. Also, capitalize regional names, such as Southerner.

The South will march northward until they’ve taken over the North.
The farther north you travel, the less likely you’ll like the Northerners’ accents.
Many people grow up in the South, but some don’t like being called Southerners.
The wind blew the mobile home east.
I grew up in the Deep South.

Disk / disc

A “disk” is a rotating magnetic disc, such as a floppy disk or disk drive. A “disc” is a rotating optical disc, like a compact disc. (I’d like to get someone to check on this though.)

The compact disc is more common than the floppy disk now.

Discreet / discrete

“Discreet” means circumspect, while “discrete” means separate.

The defendant asked his lawyer to be discreet with his personal documents.
Each department of the university forms a whole but is discrete entities.

Disney World / Disneyland

“Disney World” is two words, and “Disneyland” is one word.

My son loves Disney World, but my daughter likes Disneyland more.

Disinterested / uninterested

“Disinterested” means free of bias or indifferent. “Uninterested” means to lack interest. Are you confused yet? When in doubt, use “disinterested” because it’s usually the better word choice.

A judge must be a disinterested party in all court cases.
Both are uninterested people, but they decided to vote in the election.

Dived / dove

Never use “dove” as the past tense of “dive.” Always use “dived” because “dove” is a bird.

The dove dived dangerously close to its death.

Dollars

Always use numerals when writing about money. However, too many zeroes can get messy. When the amount is more than $1 million, you can write the numeral up to two decimal places.

Will you give me a dollar?
Johnny has $8.
He won $5 million.
The car costs $25,700.
The house is worth $2.5 billion.
Do you have $5.00? (Incorrect, unnecessary zeroes)

Desert / dessert

A “desert” is a hot, dry place. A “dessert” is something that one eats after a meal, which is typically sweet.

He wanted to eat ice cream for dessert, but it would’ve melted in the desert.

Dates

Abbreviate the name of the month only if you give the specific day of the month. Always give the specific date if you know it. You don’t have to write the year in most publications if the date is near the time of writing. Never abbreviate March, April, May, June, or July (these are the five months with less than five letters). Here are some examples:

January in South Korea is cold.
January 2008 was the year my life changed.
He met the love of his life Jan. 17.
On Friday, Jan. 18, 2008, he died from a broken heart.

When the century is less than 10, write the number out. Otherwise, use the numeral. Hyphenate when using it to modify a noun.

The 21st century will be great.
She’s a 21st-century girl.
I can trace my ancestry back to the eighth century.

Daylong / month-long / year-long

You take a daylong trip but a month-long or year-long trip.

He took a daylong trip to the Bible Belt.
She was on a month-long sojourn in Africa.
I’m on a year-long adventure in South Korea.

Academic Degrees

Use an apostrophe in bachelor’s degree, master’s degree, and so on. One of the reasons I like AP style is that it removes pompous titles.

Johnny Frazier, Ph.D., gave an interesting argument for transhumanism. (Incorrect in AP)
Johnny Frazier, who has a doctorate in psychology, gave an interesting argument for transhumanism. (Correct)
Johnny Frazier, a psychologist, gave an interesting argument for transhumanism. (Correct)

Dad / dad

Only capitalize “Dad” when referring to your father by name. Lowercase “dad” in all other uses.

My dad has written songs all his life.
Will you ask Dad if he still has that chainsaw we used last year?

Die-hard / Die Hard

“Die-hard” means stubborn. Die Hard is the name of a movie.

He’s a die-hard fan of the Die Hard series.

Drunk / drunken

Use “drunk” after the verb meaning “to be,” but use “drunken” as an adjective before a noun. Also, “drunkenness” is often misspelled.

The drunken man crashed into the police car.
My uncle is drunk.

Commonly misspelled words beginning with “D”

deathbed
day trip
daytime
D-day
debacle
debatable
decimate
diarrhea
dietitian
dilapidated
disfranchise
dissociate
dissociation
distributor
divorcee
doppelganger
Dr Pepper (no period after Dr)
duct tape

Conclusion

Unfortunately, I don’t have any book recommendations for this post. I hope you’ve enjoyed this edition of the ABCs of writing series. These rules may seem a bit rigid, but I promise to give some tutorials on how to break the rules once I finish the “Z” tutorial.

I wrote this tutorial fairly quick, so I hope I didn’t make too many mistakes. Give me your feedback. Ask questions. Call me out on any mistakes. Let’s keep a good discussion on writing well going.

I had to transform myself into a grammar Nazi to write about the comma because even I don’t always use it correctly.

This article has many other great “C” tips also. So, if the comma usage section gets too rigid, scan over it and read some of the other stuff.

Capital / Capitol

This one’s actually easy. The only time you should use the word “capitol” is when you’re talking about a building. Use “capital” in all other senses.

The senators met at the capitol to discuss new laws.
Montgomery is the capital of Alabama.
The capitol is located in the capital.

Case

“I will never start a sentence with ‘In many cases.’” Now, repeat this to yourself five times.

In many cases, girls are smarter than boys are. (Unnecessary)
Girls are often smarter than boys are. (Much better)

Climactic / Climatic

“Climatic” refers to the climate. “Climactic” refers to the highest point or greatest point, such as the climax of a story.

Hazardous climatic conditions caused global warming to make 20 years of progress in fewer than five months.
That movie had the most climactic action scene that I’ve seen in years.

Cliché

A great college professor of mine once said, “The reason why clichés are clichés is that they are so profoundly true.”

With that said, it is unwise to use clichés in your writing. There are also sites, such as the Cliché Finder that will find clichés for you.

A cliché is an overused expression that has lost its original meaning. It’s lost that creative “spice” that was probably evident the first few times someone said it.

Don’t get me wrong, sometimes clichés are useful, but most of the time, using them makes you look like a lazy writer, someone without imagination. They lack any suggestive power or evoke any emotion in the reader because they are overused to a point where the phrases should be removed from the language altogether.

Sometimes, you can get away with twisting or reconstructing the cliché with new words or using some other type of play on words to change its meaning. One of my favorite examples, even though it’s a bit cheesy, is a quote from Quincy in Love & Basketball.

All’s fair in love and basketball. (Movie quote)
All is fair in love and war. (Original cliché)

I’ll never forget that quote, and that’s why it’s a good use of the cliché. It makes it memorable.

Comma

Comma usage is broad enough to warrant its own post, so I might not cover every use in this article alone. Some of the easiest rules to break in English are comma rules, but they’re also some of the best to break when trying to capture an audience.

Comma series

When writing three or more items in a series, there are two ways to use the comma.

I like blogging, Web designing, and playing in the rain.
I like long walks on the beach, bathing in the sunlight and horseback riding.

The latter has become more prevalent, but I still use the former because I like to keep things organized. Occasionally, you might find yourself in a situation where the last comma is needed.

My favorite dishes are frog legs, fish and chips and pork and beans. (A little confusing)
My favorite dishes are frog legs, fish and chips, and pork and beans. (Not confusing)

Always omit the last comma in a business name.

He works for Sanford, Son and Company.

Parenthetic expressions

It is tough to decide when to use a comma with parenthetic expressions. A parenthetic expression is adding an extra or explanatory expression in your sentence.

Ricky’s dad, Joe Bob, completed his first tour of the world yesterday.

A good rule to test is the “which, where, and when” test. Typically, when a parenthetical expression begins with one of these words, you can safely enclose it in commas.

The movie version of Doom, which sucked whale ass, isn’t nearly as great as the video game.
In 1984, when my mother had her first child, some of the greatest movies hit the box office.
The Uptown Creek, where I landed my first kiss, was the place I thought I had become a man.

Independent clauses

Use a comma before “and,” “but,” and “so” if they separate clauses that could stand alone as a sentence.

She’s a girl that’s in love with a boy, and he’s a boy that’s in love with a girl.
I like big butts and I cannot lie, but my best friend likes slender legs.
The bus leaves at 6 p.m., so you should arrive a few minutes early.

Comma splice

A comma splice is an incorrect separation of two independent clauses with a comma. Don’t write these sentences with only a comma. Use a conjunction (and, but, as, because, etc.), a semicolon, or separate them into sentences.

She’s a girl that’s in love with a boy, he’s a boy that’s in love with a girl. (Incorrect)
She’s a girl that’s in love with a boy; he’s a boy that’s in love with a girl. (Correct)
She’s a girl that’s in love with a boy. He’s a boy that’s in love with a girl. (Correct)

Only use comma splices for effect, and do it as seldom as possible.

Rhythm

You can use commas to add rhythm to your sentences. In this instance, you can omit “and” to break from your rigid style of writing.

Autumn brings me back to a place I once knew, gives me a surreal feeling of longing, reminds me of my youth.

Confusion

Make sure phrases at the beginning of your sentences match the subject. Don’t use commas to separate things that would make your sentences confusing. In this example, a reader may be confused about which thing is old and worn out.

Although old and worn out, he bought the car. (What or who is “old and worn out”?)
He bought the car, even though it was old and worn out. (The car is “old and worn out.”)

Comma / coma

This isn’t a tough one, but I wanted to add it because my Korean students pronounce “comma” like “coma” a lot. I frequently draw pictures of a man in a coma to show them what they’re actually saying.

A “coma” is a state of deep sleep or unconsciousness. A “comma” is a punctuation mark used to separate ideas or parts of a sentence.

Conscience / conscious / conscientious

“Conscience” is your moral guide. “Conscious” means being aware of your surroundings or being awake. “Conscientious” means that you are guided by your “conscience.”

Do you believe that Hannibal Lecter had a conscience?
A man in a coma is not conscious.
He made a conscientious decision to push that man off the bridge to save the others.

Certainly

Remove it from your speech. Remove it from your writing. Seriously. It’s often used to add some “oomph” to your sentences, but it makes your writing look unprofessional.

He certainly cannot move my bed without permission. (Bad)
He cannot move my bed without permission. (Much better)

Compare / contrast

Don’t confuse these two. “Compare” means to point out resemblances, and “contrast” is to point out differences.

His book contrasts the beach and the mountains.
She compared Chevy and Ford trucks in her review.

Colon

The best use of the colon (:) is when writing a list. However, it’s often misused when written before a list. It must always follow a noun.

My favorite snacks are: candy bars, ice cream, and potato chips. (Incorrect)
He gave me three choices: sex, drugs, or bluegrass. (Correct)

Commonly misspelled “C” words

calendar
camouflage
cantaloupe
cemetery
chagrined
changeable
collectible
colonel
column
committee
completely
concede
continuous
controversy
convenient
coolly
courteous

Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation

One of the books that I’ve always wanted to read is Eats, Shoots and Leaves. By looking at the title, you can see that the sentence will have various meanings if the comma is placed in different places. He eats, shoots and leaves. He eats shoots and leaves.

Most of the reviews I’ve read have had nothing less than praise for the book. I often flip through the pages when I’m at the bookstore, wishing I had a few extra dollars on hand. It’s definitely on my “must read” list.

As always, post your feedback, call me on any errors (this is a learning experience for me too), and add your own ideas to the list.

Do you have any other comma tips? This is a large section and deserves much more attention than it received in this post.

There are not as many common mistakes with this letter as “A,” but I’ve put together some material to browse. For this new edition of the The ABCs of Writing, I’ll walk you through a few common errors that begin with the letter “B.”

Because / because of / due to

Anyone can make a mistake with these words when writing and look over it when editing. Do not use “because of” or “due to” because they contain unnecessary words. In general, always use “because” because it’s much simpler. You can sometimes use the phrase “because of” effectively. You might have to make a judgment call.

Other phrases to watch out for:

• because of the fact that
• due to the fact that
• owing to the fact that

He died because of his sister’s boyfriend.
He died because his sister’s boyfriend hit him with a hammer.

“Because” can be a powerful word when writing. When you use it in sentences, they have more credibility. For example, if you’re telling your readers to read an article you found, tell them why.

You should read “How to Lose a Girl after Three Dates.” (Bad)
You should read “How to Lose a Girl after Three Dates” because the writer lays out the rules for dating in a readable and entertaining article. (Good)

Believe

This is a commonly misspelled word. It’s also one of those times when the “i comes before e,” which is a rarity in the English language.

I believe I can fly. I believe I can touch the sky. I believe I can soar.

Use the phrase “I believe” sparingly. If you’re writing it, then a reader can assume that you believe it. A good exception to this rule is when talking about beliefs themselves (possibly religion). Also, avoid “I think.” Removing “I believe” from your sentences makes your writing more effective. It makes it stronger. In addition, you omit needless words.

I believe Britney Spears is the dumbest person ever. (Less effective)
Britney Spears is the dumbest person ever. (Effective)

Even when writing about religion, you can make your sentence stronger.

I believe that God, the angels, and heaven exist. (OK)
God, the angels, and heaven exist. (Stronger)

Blog

There’s a way to misuse the word “blog”? Yes, there is. If I only had a dime for every time I read a blog post or heard it used incorrectly in casual conversation, well…(Also, avoid clichés when writing.)

Blog is short for the word “weblog.” The only time you can use it as a noun is when you’re referring to a blog itself, which includes all of the blog’s posts. You cannot use the word to mean “blog post.” They are not interchangeable. “Blog” can also mean “to write an entry into a weblog” — blog, blogging, blogged.

I wrote a blog about raccoons and orgasms today. (Wrong)
I wrote a blog post about raccoons and orgasms last night. (Right)
I blogged about raccoons and orgasms this morning. (Right)

Bibliography

While writing a bibliography doesn’t necessarily apply to blogging, it never hurts to learn. I won’t write a tutorial on this because that would warrant an entire post, maybe several posts. Instead, you can read How to Write a Bibliography – Examples in MLA Style. It looks like a good reference for nearly any type of bibliography. You never know when you might need it.

Commonly misspelled words beginning with the letter B

• balloon
• barbeque / barbecue
• basically
• battalion
• beautiful
• beggar
• beginning
• benefited
• bicycle
• Britain
• broccoli
• Buddha
• bureau
• burglar
• business

Bartleby.com

This is a great reference site for anyone that’s serious about his or her writing. It has encyclopedias, dictionaries, thesauruses, and much more. You can probably bookmark their site and forget all about reading this tutorial series.

The preeminent Internet publisher of literature, reference and verse providing students, researchers and the intellectually curious with unlimited access to books and information on the web, free of charge.

- Excerpt from Bartleby.com

Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations

A Collection of Passages, Phrases, and Proverbs Traced to Their Sources in Ancient and Modern Literature

Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations is a good book to add to your library. Why not reference the greatest writers of all when looking for some inspiration or an easy way to explain something? This book is something you should not go without. If nothing else, impress your friends by putting it on the coffee table beside your photography book. Seriously, it’s a great read.

Final thoughts:

This edition of the series was a little shorter than the last, but that was expected because there aren’t as many errors with the letter “B.” I’m sure there are mistakes in this post, and I urge you to find them. This is as much a learning tool for me as it is for you.

Subscribe to the feed to know when I write about the letter “C.” I have quite a few ideas on it.

Since I hold an English degree and am an educator of the finer arts of the English language — OK, so I’m teaching English to Korean kids (it’s not that complicated).

Wait. Wait. Wait. Did I write any of those sentences correctly?

That’s what I’m going to explore — the art of writing well. Sure, I’m going to make mistakes with this series, and I hope you all (or y’all) call me on every one of them.

Why start a series on how to write?

When I decided to take this blog in a new direction, one of the things I wanted to do was use my English degree to offer writing advice. (Or, is it advise? No, it’s advice.)

Too often, I see a lot of noticeable mistakes on many blogs. And these aren’t (ain’t) your run-of-the-mill Blogger.com sites either. I’m referring to some more well-known blogs.

Do you have to write well to have a successful blog? To some degree, yes. This also largely depends on the type of blog you run. The act of blogging is essentially writing.

This is also a way for me to take a step back from my WordPress duties. I don’t, can’t, and won’t blog about WordPress every day because I would become overwhelmed with pressure to continuously better myself with each post. This will be a way for me to supplement my work with WordPress. This is the “Blogging” part of “Justin Tadlock: Life, Blogging, and WordPress.”

How will I present this series?

This is undecided for the moment. Right now, I’m thinking of running through the alphabet (the ABCs of blogging), each day adding tips relating to a letter of the alphabet. Since I’m not sure yet, I’d like to hear some feedback from my readers. What would you like to see in this series?

I will try to cover all topics. Large and small. Simple and complicated. I will cover basic word usage, common misspellings, maybe a few dangling modifiers, and butchering the English language but doing so effectively.

My background:

I hold an English degree from Auburn University in Alabama. I’m sure the words “in Alabama” make you confident that this will be the best writing series ever, right? My concentration was in Creative Writing, but a large portion of my classes was in Literature. I spent a few semesters over in the journalism department as well. I probably learned more about grammar in those journalism classes than I had learned in the prior 23 years about English. I’m currently an English “conversation instructor” (teacher) at an English academy in South Korea. I teach little crumb-snatchers the finer points of the language.

I’ve always been a writer. Since I could hold a pen and pad, I’ve written some words in some way. To see some samples of my writing, you can browse the writing page. It’s nowhere near a comprehensive list of my work, but it’s a place to get a feel for my style.

Blogging has also been a big part of my life in the last few years. View the archives to see a post-by-post list of the last four years or so of my blog posts.

I am always learning more about writing and learning more about myself through writing. It’s time to give a little back to the world.

Are you ready to learn how to write more effectively?

I hope you are.

I would like to hear some feedback. What type of things do you struggle with? Do you want to tackle misspelling words? Common grammatical errors? Maybe you want to learn how to write better. How to capture an audience. Get information to the reader in the most effective way. Would you like to see more blog-centric posts or writing in general?

Right now, I’m laying out a plan to present this series. Now is the time to offer your feedback.

For your first homework assignment: find errors in this blog post and discuss why and how I could’ve written it better.

This morning, I finally sent my resume and sample writings to the Union Springs Herald. I’m applying for an editor job. It took me two days to put my sample writings together because I literally did not have enough time in the day to do it. And no, I wasn’t on a lazy streak or anything. I simply didn’t have the time. That was with four hours of sleep a night.

I figured since I was organizing my work, I’d share some of it with my readers. Here are two of the stories that I sent:

• Bedtime Adventures
  An interview with Jerry Sibley, author from Mount Hope, Ala., who penned The Adventures of Harley Earle.
• The Tiger Taxi Guy
  A feature profile on Kevin McCarley, the owner of Tiger Taxi in Auburn, Ala., and his wild nightlife driving an orange taxi in a college town.

Wish me luck with the job, and pray that I get an interview!

“I’m thinking about asking Mary Beth to homecoming,” Taylor said.

“Ask her then.”

“Like it’s that easy.”

Creek Hill was a small town. Sammy’s was on Milford Street, which had five stores on either side. The school, CHS, where Taylor and his friends were seniors, was one of the three other buildings that weren’t on this street. It was a half hour drive to buy groceries. Creek Hill School had 800 students grades K-12, fifty of which were seniors, and most students were involved in all activities. Guys were expected to play sports. Girls were expected to cheerlead. The post office had two employees. Bingo night was on Wednesdays at Town Hall.

“Man, I think you should forget all about the dance and just come to Wyatt’s field.” Jordan took a sip of his shake. “Nobody goes to the dance, except seventh and eighth graders.”

Taylor finished off his shake, thinking about how nice it would be to have one night for him and Mary Beth. He was 17, and he hadn’t had a relationship that lasted over 2 months, ever. Everyone else he knew always had a girlfriend. There wasn’t much to choose from around Creek Hill either.

Mary Beth Sanders was a year younger than he was. Taylor had liked her since he was in the third grade, and he always believed that she was the one for him. She was on the cheerleading squad, which was nice for Taylor because he got to see her every Friday night when he played football. They had art class and yearbook together, and that allowed him to get in a few good jokes now and then to try to impress her. But she didn’t seem to think much about his attempts at flirting, Taylor thought.

The next day, Taylor looked across the room, watching Mary Beth struggle with her drawing. A root beer bottle and cowboy boot sat on a table in the middle of the room. All of the students in art were required to draw it. Taylor, instead of drawing, was running through the possible ways and the possible answers of asking Mary Beth to the homecoming dance. He scribbled in his notebook, “I know we don’t really hang out, but I was wondering if” and, “I’ve been thinking about you for a long time,” scratching them each out. He ripped the page out of his notebook and crumpled it up, deciding asking her face-to-face would be best.

After the bell rang, he quickly packed his backpack and tried to catch her before she ran out of the room. She was already in the hallway amongst her friends. He would do it after yearbook class, he decided.

Once again, his attempt failed. She had beaten him out of the class and into a group of friends. He saw Jordan hurrying toward him in the hallway. “Man, I need to talk to you,” Jordan said, and led Taylor outside.

“Mary Beth knows.”

“Knows what?”

“That you’re going to ask her out.”

Taylor’s stomach tightened at the words. “How could she possibly know? You’re the only person that I’ve told and unless you said something…”

“No, somebody apparently overheard you at Sammy’s last night. And you know how these things go. I’m sure everybody knows by now.”

At that moment, Taylor decided that he had nothing to lose. If he asked her, one of two things would happen. She would either say no or yes.

He waited alone at the school recess area, walking around the tables and benches, waiting for her to walk by before cheerleading practice. Ten minutes passed before his chance appeared. Mary Beth walked toward him. He knew she was in control.

“So, I hear you’re gonna ask me to homecoming,” she spoke first, relieving some of Taylor’s stress.

“Umm, yeah,” he smiled, lifting his head a little, alternating the weight from his left foot to his right.

“I had no idea.”

“I know, but I just wanted to—”

“Well, I don’t want to go to the dance.” Taylor’s smile went away. His stomach was tightening for the second time that day. “But, I will be at the party at Wyatt’s field. If you show up, maybe we can hang out or something.”

His smile returned. Taylor, realizing that he never actually asked her to the dance, still felt like he had accomplished the impossible.

The party was in Jim Wyatt’s field, a half-mile into the woods off County Road 17. Trees lined the highway and ran back to the field opening. A bonfire was set up in the middle of the field, and Mary Beth was standing next to the keg with three of her friends. Taylor decided not to rush her right away because they weren’t on a real date.

Most of the night, Taylor stayed beside Jordan, refilling his cup from the keg until he saw Mary Beth without her friends. This was his moment, he thought. He sat on the Ford Ranger’s tailgate beside her, noticing that she was drunk. He tried to think of the right words.

“You wanna make out or something,” Mary Beth asked while leaning toward him.

“I guess—”

Mary Beth kissed him. Taylor’s heart rate increased. A group of onlookers toasted to the kiss and laughed. Taylor knocked his beer cup off the tailgate, and the kiss ended with Mary Beth leaving to find a spot to use the bathroom.

“I know. I saw it,” Jordan said.

“I can’t believe I just kissed Mary Beth Sanders.”

“Okay, now that that’s done, you think we can just get outta here?”

“Now? I have to get back to her.”

Taylor filled his cup up again. He walked back toward the Ford Ranger, looking for Mary Beth. In the distance, he saw another couple kissing. He sat back on the tailgate watching the couple. He couldn’t see who it was until another truck’s headlights came on, shining directly at them. It was Mary Beth and Jimmy from the football team.

For the next few weeks, Taylor avoided her. He dodged questions from her friends, who asked him why he hadn’t talked to her and why he left so quickly at the party. Taylor couldn’t face her. But, he knew that she had given him the one thing he had been waiting for since third grade, that kiss. She also gave him the thing he always expected, heartache. He stopped avoiding her when he started noticing Caroline Richards. Maybe she’s the one, he told himself.

###

I just wanted to share my first short story from Fiction Writing I. Plus, I really don’t have anything useful to blog about tonight. I hope you enjoyed it.

Taking My Language With Me
Written April 20, 2006

I grew up in the Deep South in a small town called Highland Home, Alabama. I’ve lived on dirt roads at times in my life. I know how to use the words “ain’t,” “ya’ll,” and “yonder” correctly, and I still use them today. In addition, I’m an English major.

The first time I experienced a kind of oppression to my own language, or at least the first time I gave it any notice, was when I was doing yard work for this older lady in Auburn. I threw out the word “ain’t” in a conversation we were having while cleaning her lawn chairs. She stopped me mid-sentence and told me I should be ashamed of myself for talking like that, especially since I am an English major. She said she had a friend from England who visited a week earlier that would be appalled at my abuse of the language. There I was, 21 years old, and a 65-year-old woman was teaching me how to talk.

I gave her opinion a lot of thought over the next few days, wondering if I needed to focus on how I spoke. Since I am an English major, shouldn’t I at least speak correctly? I finally decided my speech is part of who I am, part of my experiences, part of where I came from. Bell hooks mentions, “We are transformed, individually, collectively, as we make radical creative space which affirms and sustains our subjectivity, which gives us a new location from which to articulate our sense of the world” (242). Because my speech is part of me, to undo it would be to strip that part away. It would strip away where I grew up, the people I’ve met, and the experiences I’ve had. I would still like to say, “Me and Johnny went to the store,” as opposed to “Johnny and I.” I would still like to use “ain’t,” “ya’ll,” and “yonder” because of who I am. If I am to be a writer, one thing I do aspire to be in life, then I must carry my language with me. It is the voice of those places, people, and experiences, and that is what I will take with me.

And now I will do a spelling and grammar check to make sure this paper is not too out of line with the use of the English language because I wouldn’t want to start a sentence with “and” or use too many contractions. I’ve already added “ain’t” to my Microsoft Word dictionary this morning. I am resisting oppression.

Sources:
Readings In Contemporary Rhetoric – Karen A. Foss, Sonja K. Foss, Robert Trapp
“Choosing the Margin as a Space of Radical Openness” – bell hooks (no, she doesn’t capitalize her name)

I started this collection in 2001. My father bought me my first DVD player (priced at $130 and lacking most of the functions of the current $40 Wal-Mart special) for Christmas that year. That was a great Christmas. I jumped on the DVD bandwagon before most of my family and friends even knew what a DVD player was. Since I only had about five titles on VHS, it was a good investment. I could start my collection with the newest technology, and it should last me at least twenty years. Yes, VHS cassettes had been around that long. I was safe and secure to get aboard at that point.

My Granny and Papa had movies on VHS dating back into the 1980s. One day about ten years ago, my sister and I were allowed to alphabetize her (I say her because we always refer to things as belonging to Granny in my grandparent’s home) collection. After a few hours of fussing over where titles beginning with “A” and “The” should be in relation to the other titles and how to fit the tapes themselves in the cabinet, we managed to count over 300 movies. Over 100 belonged to the Western genre, my Papa’s favorite. We used to joke that he owned every Western ever made.

My Granny always had a movie to watch. There was never any excuse for boredom at her house. That is granted that Papa wasn’t watching a Western on TV, probably one of the movies he already had in the collection. Last year, I gave them my $130 DVD player because I had upgraded to a better player. They are now on the DVD bandwagon along with me. However, they did hop on a little late in the DVD’s life. Now, their VHS collection is hardly worth the space it takes up. They still have a VCR to play them on, but most of their movie watching is done on DVD.

I have now moved on to an up-conversion DVD player, which allows me to watch my DVDs in as close to true high-definition as they can get on my 30” Philips HDTV. I am actually quite satisfied with the picture quality of it. However, it is not enough. Some day soon, I will want the cool, new technology in order to make full use of my high-definition television. That is where Blu-ray and HD DVD come in. That new technology is just around the corner. Of course, there is a problem when I say Blu-ray and HD DVD. They are two different formats of the next-generation DVD. I want high-definition discs, but I don’t want to purchase the wrong format only to find it obsolete in a year. The major differences in the two formats are how much information each can hold and the type of laser that reads the discs. HD DVD is read by a red laser and is much like the DVD, but it holds less information. A blue laser reads the Blu-ray disc, which holds much more information. However, it is a lot different from the DVD, so Blu-ray manufacturers will have to rebuild their factories, which will inevitably drive costs up.

Some DVD player manufacturers have already stated they are at work on a player that will play both formats. The problem is that some of the major companies don’t want to give permission to the manufacturers to produce them. If these players could release early enough in the format war, we could avoid a war altogether. Yet, I know that’s not entirely true. Let’s look at this from another perspective. Coke and Pepsi have coexisted for years. They are the software of the soft drink world. Coke and Pepsi machines are the hardware of that world. The companies that produce these machines make them compatible with both types of soft drinks. They are not biased toward any one soft drink. Now let’s put the next-generation DVDs in the same situation. First, there is Blu-ray and HD DVD (software). Then there is a need for a player (hardware) that simply reads them both. The technology is available, manufacturers have said as much. Why not let the consumers taste a little Sony one day, then Universal the next, the same as they can with Coke and Pepsi?

At least I can wait out the format war. DVDs won’t be obsolete for some time. In addition, with the new players’ backwards-compatibility, I’ll get to keep my current collection without upgrading more than 200 titles to the victorious format. My problem lies deeper than the current format war. I had expected to get a 20-year life span out of my DVD collection. Instead, it is only in its fifth year. It’s still a child compared to the VHS. Yes, it will last as long as the new formats do, but after that, I’m not sure what will happen. At the rate that technology is advancing, I predict Blu-ray or HD DVD’s successor will arrive within the next five to seven years. I’m not sure what will become of my DVD collection then. Surely, those players will not be backwards-backwards-compatible, playing DVDs, the winner of the Blu-ray and HD DVD battle, plus the new type of disc, if it is even a disc at that point. Companies have hardly tried to keep VHS collections alive. I doubt the new players will have a VCR drive to allow those collections to live on.

I can see the future now. I am a 50-year-old man with a DVD player and a largely outdated DVD collection. I am comparable to the old fool of today with a turntable and massive collection of records. The younger generations make fun of me for not moving along with the times. All I have to offer the world is fifty years of useless knowledge and talk about the “good ol’ days.” I tell youngsters about how DVDs are just as good, if not better, than the ability to download all their movies off the internet onto a single hard drive. Nevertheless, they just laugh at me, and ask what a DVD is. Then later they talk with their friends about how stupid it is to waste all that wall space for numerous DVD racks. I won’t care that much because I’ll have the classics, and something to show for it. They will only have memory saved on a hard drive, whereas I’ll have a case with a disc inside.

Turntables are a technology of the past. However, I see more and more homes boasting a more advanced turntable with a CD player and radio in a beautiful wood cabinet. To place the needle to vinyl has some kind of alluring quality, as if the person knows a thing or two about music. Records may not be jumping their way past CDs on sales charts, but there is something aesthetically pleasing in seeing a turntable in a living room. It has a somewhat “high-class” look. A CD player or computer hard drive doesn’t create that same effect. The turntable is a throwback to the old days. Whereas, newer technology doesn’t have the same aesthetic qualities as the turntable. The only good that could come from a throwback look is hopes that in 30 years I can reassign my DVD player to the living room.

I’m proud of my Granny and Papa for not upgrading their VHS collection to DVD (which will cost too much money to actually do). Those films were meant to be watched on VHS. I know that I will never upgrade my DVD collection. I will, however, move along with the times and get the cool, new technology, just as soon as the format war dies down, and there is a clear victor. Of course, I’m not sure when that will happen. If the one-terabyte HVD (holographic video disc) being produced by Japanese companies hits American soil in 2007 I might have a longer wait, and eventually decide that I will forego all future technology (including the high-def cell phone and the flying car) and stay with my current DVD player. I will be the old geezer with the largest living collection of DVDs in 30 years.

CHAPTER 5
GOING BACK

Jude Taylor looked down that path, with its overhanging branches. The leaves had just began to brown and little crunchies scattered themselves along the floor of the tunnel. The sun was just perching in the sky and peeked through a hole here and there to light up the path just enough to see a 30 yards into it.

It was nearing the half hour; there was no way he’d make it to Isabella. He imagined her sitting there alone, eating a turkey club and chatting with Martha. Martha had to be gossiping about the happenings in the small town, giving her an earful. And Jude, he was getting ready to take a path that he hadn’t taken alone in ten years by himself. He had left that place and decided to never set foot in it again, except for once a year, every year, with the others. Now, he had to go back on his decision.

He put a foot on one of the crunchy bits, then another. He felt a longing, a deeper purpose for this trip back into the mouth of Hell, like there was some cosmically imbalanced screw up that sent him here this very day. It could’ve been destiny. It could’ve been mother Universe. Or it could’ve been God telling him that he had to face this, and he had to do it alone, and he had to do it on a sunny day in October.

Another crunch. But why?

He ran through the scenarios in his head. There would be a couple cooped up in the there for a romantic weekend, and they would let him use their cell phone. There would be no couple there, and he would have to learn how to pick a lock, hope for a working phone, and pray that someone would pick him up. The former definitely outweighed the latter.

Another crunch. Another. Crunch. Crunch.

He picked up his steps as he made it farther into the darkness. Getting to Isabella Adriana Moretti-Jones was now his priority. Crunch, crunch. He could see the light, where the yard opens up past the dark driveway. He could see the faint image of the Tater Creek Cabin. It was almost sweet. It was almost breathtaking. But it was mostly heart-pounding and uncontrollable breathing, with the nervous look of a 13 year old boy making his move towards a first kiss, or a 14 year old moving his first hand between the area where fabric meets skin. Jude could sense all of those feeling coming back, the pain, the heartache, the joy, the pleasure.

Light. Crunch. Crunch.

The Tater Creek Cabin was still as beautiful as it had been last year, and every other year for the past 10 years. Most importantly, it was as awe-inspiring as it had been the day after his senior graduation party in the May of 1996. That was the last time he had ever set foot in that yard by himself, and there he was, looking up at all its beauty.

The cabin itself stood a might two stories, and had a basement underneath. It had been built in the late summer of 1945, by Marshall Creek returning from World War II. And Marshall was a master craftsman, by looking at the glorious carpentry he snapped together in this cubby hole beyond the darkness of the arching trees. The porch, lined with waist high railing, ran across the entirety of the front side of the cabin, with steps on the front and both sides. Four pillars held the ceiling overhead. The windows were carved symmetrically, two to a side of the door on the first and second floors. The roof of the front porch served as a balcony for the top floor, where many drunken teen boys had undoubtedly played out pissing competitions, probably not rallied on by the shocked ground floorers. Set behind the cabin itself was Tater Creek. The creek opening up in a small swimming hole just behind the northeast corner was shaded by the trees that hang low over it.

There were no cars parked in the driveway. What a waste of a walk. Why? On all days? He tried the front knob. Not even a centimeter loose to either side. He started down the porch to the side of the cabin. Maybe the back was unlocked. Turning the corner, he stopped. There it was, that spot. The pain and the heartache lie there. His confession of love died there.

Jude could remember the day after his love had been slain. He came back to that cabin for the last time he would ever come back to that cabin alone, and now he had to come back once more. He had to come back, even if he had promised himself that he couldn’t lay his eyes on that spot ever again. Some uncontrollable force had drove him there that day 10 years ago, and it was doing the same now.

That force took his hands ten years ago, stole away with the letters from Isabella Adriana Moretti, and took him here. Those letters were taken from his precious Skittles box, with its sharp corners and its bright colors, with its scent of the rainbow. Destiny took hold of him, a shovel, and one of his mother’s food containers. Jude Taylor’s arms dug a one foot deep hole and placed the letters, inside there plastic container, into it. Then, lighting a Marlboro, he finished the job. He covered up that part of his life, and told himself that he could never go back, even if he was still in love with her.

Now, standing over that spot, eight steps down the side of the house and three steps away from it, he was pondering digging them out. He had not thought of it since that day he buried them, not even on those once a year trips to the cabin with the others. He now had time to contemplate it. Why not do it? They mean nothing now. It’s all in the past. What could it hurt? He ran over the possibility again and again and again.

It was now 10:47. He was forty seven minutes late for his meeting, and he was about to dig out a piece of clear plastic with a red lid. Jude looked around for something to dig the dirt with, finding nothing. He had thought about it too much now; he had to get into that food storage unit. His tie quickly became loose as he ripped it from it neck. Sitting down on his knees, he began clawing at the grass that had grown over, clawing like a lunatic claws for things that aren’t actually there.

This was becoming a chore already. Jude had barely broke ground. Reaching into his pocket, he realized he had left them in the car. He had to get one. The nicotine craving had grown beyond just want, it had transformed into need. Getting up, the twenty seven year old took off running. He ran around the corner of the house, through the front yard, down the hanging arches (forgetting all about his previous fear of their gloom), all the way to his car.

It sat there, at the end of the driveway at an angle, just enough path left open for an incoming car. He reached into the glove compartment after swinging open the door with a madman’s fury, and grabbed the pack, and lit up. He was sweating now. He had forgotten all about making it to his meeting with Isabella. He had given up on the thought altogether, figuring he would end up walking home anyway.

Starting to walk back, he almost didn’t think of an obvious solution to his problem with dirt that had began to grow hard. That lug nut taking off thing, whatever it was called. He knew he could change tires with it. He quickly grabbed it from the trunk and headed back down that dark path blowing smoke back into its face.

The hole dug up easily enough, well, it came undone better than it would have had Jude been bare handing it. He reached into that incision and dusted the brown off the container. It seemed not to have aged; it was just dirty. He lit another cigarette before prying to lid off, and there it was right on top. He had left that letter there, purposely, for the person who happened to find this one day in the far off future. He left it there to let them know he had once been loved. A girl once loved him, and he screwed it up.

He peeled back the browning paper and began to reminisce.

Jude,

I have to talk to you, mostly about us. Trust me, you and Angela will not work out. I know this because I know you belong with me. You always have. I never realized it before. I thought you just had an infatuation with me, and I denied you, I denied us love. The other night at Tim’s party my eyes finally opened up and realized that you are the one.

The guy I was looking for wasn’t Joey, Derrick, or whoever else I thought I belonged with before. Jude I know that deep down in my heart it’s you that I’m looking for. And I think somewhere inside of you, you have the same feelings for me. I also know that you really like Angela, but I know you don’t love her, and she’s really not your type. After the party, when we sat on the porch swing together, that’s where I want to be in 50 years. I want to sit on a swing, like that, with you watching our grandchildren grow up. If you don’t think that I’m the one for you, then you’ll see one day and I just hope it’s not too late.

With Angela, to her you’re just a crush. She enjoys the attention of an older guy. But, I don’t see you that way, for obvious reasons, we are the same age, but also for more than that. When I look at you, I see us. You probably think this letter means nothing, but I’m serious when I say that we belong together.

I want you to be the one I grow old with. I want you to be the father of my children. No other girl knows you as I do. I just wanted to let you know how I really felt.

I Will Always Love You,
Iz

He laughed at the letter. Only a year later, he professed his undying love and she denied him. High school girls, there feelings changed like the weather. He thought it was too bad he never really took her up on her offer. Things could have been so different. Life could have been very different. Why couldn’t he see it then? Why had he been so blind to her love? That high school girl’s feelings did not change overnight. He knew she cried when he told her that he was with Angela at the moment. He knew she wrapped her face in her pillow at home and screamed with pain. She had poured her heart out to him, and he did not accept it.

Her feelings had not changed that year because that is what high school girl’s feeling done, she could not love him. Or she refused to love him. Or did she really not know what love meant? Or didn’t know it’s meaning anymore? Had he been the true cause of her not knowing the meaning of love? He ran through the questions. They had never talked about it, not truly talked. They made references to the letter and his confession of the following year over coffee during their yearly meetings. However, they never touched on the subject fully. They both thought it was too touchy of a subject to bring up. Therefore, they never did.

He crushed his Marlboro into the dirt beside the freshly dug hole. Reaching into his pocket and pulling out the pack, another was lit. Running his hand to the bottom of the container, he grabbed a random piece of paper and began to read.