The power of the spoken word

Remember when your sixth-grade English teacher told you not to start a sentence with "and?" She didn't know what she was talking about.

The spoken word came first. If we say it, we can write it. That's why it's "an hour," not "a hour." "A hour" is hard to say. So we don't say it. Therefore, we don't write it.

But that's with a caveat. If you want the reader to respect you, you have to follow some basic grammatical rules. And when you break a rule, make sure you know it and why. (See? I just started a sentence with "and." Now, that wasn't so painful, was it?)

My favorite sources own their language. They sometimes don't speak in complete sentences; they may not even follow grammatical rules; and they paint with their words. Below is an exchange I witnessed between Todd Staples, Texas' agriculture commissioner, and his dad, Cecil. Notice how you gain a window into the father's personality and the men's relationship:

A pond teems with bass and Todd reminisces about camping out here with his siblings. His parents still live in the house where he grew up, and the cattle low nearby.

“That’s a registered Angus,” Cecil says at one point, on a drive through the ranch. “He’s a pretty bull.”

What makes a pretty bull?

“Well, we don’t call bulls pretty,” says Todd.

“I do,” says the dad.

There’s no arguing with Cecil Staples. Well, there’s arguing. But, you’ll probably lose.

“He does all the talking, I do all the listening,” Todd jokes.

“It’s all right to disagree,” says Cecil. But: “I’m going to make a point.”

If you let the spoken word tell the tale, a lot of your work is done for you, whether it is in your voice or in another's voice.

Later this week, I'll talk about the easiest way to catch grammatical errors and sentence fragments. Guess what? It involves the spoken word.