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Archive for November, 2009

When Should You Use “It”?

Monday, November 9th, 2009

Last week, I was a bit surprised at the attention received by one of my posts from the middle of October, Get Rid of “It” (and other vague words).  The post was submitted to Reddit, and received a somewhat controversial rating.  The ratings were mostly positive, but the comments were somewhat less so, indicating that (perhaps) my message hadn’t gotten completely across.

On the positive side, I think that article received the most comments any of my articles has received.  Thanks to all the Reddit commenters who took the time to say why they agreed or disagreed with me!

I’m not writing this post directly to those commenters, but I do think it is important to respond to the flaw pointed out by the comments.  As one commenter pointed out, general rules may hurt writers if the writer doesn’t understand when to break the rule.  I felt I should clarify my message to help all writers who read this blog.

I think the major reason that the Reddit commenters disagreed with my post was that I went a bit too far with the selection of my title.  When I said, “Get Rid of ‘It’,” I was referring (mostly) to the overuse of “it” in many new writers’ work.  As a few Reddit commenters (correctly) pointed out, “it” is a perfectly good word, if used carefully.

My intention is not to eliminate the word “it” from the English language. However, writers need to be careful to balance the convenience of “it” with the vagueness “it” introduces.  New writers tend to use “it” too often in their work, which makes understanding their intended meaning difficult.

Many writers use “it” as a crutch. Instead of thinking about the concept a writer desires to convey, many beginning writers throw in the word “it” to shorten their writing, but this puts the burden of figuring out the message on the reader.  Taking a bit more effort to clarify your message can save your readers a lot of time.

Speaking of saving time, let’s get to the main event.  When should you use “it”?

Use “it” to refer to an object that has no gender:

The bookcase was lovely, its oaken shelves a beautiful shade of brown.

The water bottle let out a sharp hiss as I squeezed its trigger, water spraying out in a narrow stream.

Use “it” to refer to an event (in the examples, “It” refers to the weather):

It was a blustery day in the Hundred Acre Woods.

It was a dark and stormy night.

Use “it” when you can substitute any number of things and still make the sentence true:

Forget about it, it will never happen.

It will be a cold day in Hell when that happens.

Use “it” when the surrounding context makes the meaning clear:

We loved that restaurant.  Its food was delicious, its atmosphere was pleasant, and its waiters were always prompt.

Can we continue this conversation later?  I’d really love for Janice to hear it.

Also, while we’re talking about “it,” let’s also get one commonly confused thing straight:

Its color was green.  It’s standing still.

In other words, “its” implies ownership or a characteristic of something.  “It’s” is used only to refer to “It is” or “It has.”

Writing is an art, and the use of “it” is no different. Deciding to use “it” in a particular case depends on your goals as a writer–you’re making a choice between clarity and vagueness, or wordiness and brevity.  The right place to use “it” is (unfortunately) often a judgment call.  “It” is a perfectly good word, when a writer carefully considers when to use “it”.

Happy writing!

Related Post: Get Rid of “It” (and other vague words)

A Warrior Fights the Battle of His Life

Friday, November 6th, 2009

He’d dodged bullets, eluded enemy capture, survived torture, but none of that compared to the battle he faced today.  He’d stared down death, rescued friends wounded in the course of battle, and even been wounded three times himself.  Even so, he never hesitated, never flinched, as he dove back into battle.

As he’d gotten older, he continued to fight battles–moving from the physical battlefield to a battle of wits with others more skilled.  Eventually he moved into politics, the battles becoming more public, with more fervor, with more at stake.  Even so, he never felt fear, never was concerned that he might lose.  The possibility he might lose had simply never entered his mind.

Today was different.

He’d just gotten the diagnosis:  pancreatic cancer, and 3-6 months to live.  For the first time since he could remember, he felt real fear.  The years of surviving multiple battles on the battlefield, the decades spent fighting in the political arena, thousands of people’s lives affected by the decisions he made–all of it seemed so distant.  He’d spent his whole life fighting battles, but how does one win a fight against the cells in one’s own body?

He didn’t want to give up–that wasn’t in his nature.  However, for the first time, he felt like he was not in control of his life.  Instead of being in control, he needed to rely on doctors who knew more than him.  There was nothing he could learn in time to help himself–and from what the doctors said, there wasn’t much they could do to help him either.  The cancer had been caught too late.

He had often fought alone, but had never felt so lonely.

His wife was there, holding his hand.  She’d stood behind him through the years…waiting for him to return from war, standing behind him as he took the microphone through countless political battles.  He knew that she would be lonely when he’d gone, but, for the moment, his mind, so trained to fight battles, was racing around this one problem…how to fight an enemy he couldn’t see, touch, or otherwise sense.

Even knowing that the attempt was useless, his mind kept attacking the problem, trying to find an opening.  He found none.

Time went by, and he grew to accept his fate.  He decided to take what time he had left and enjoy life–the only way to defeat his impending death was to not let it kill his spirit before his body.

He and his wife sat down, and made a list of all they wanted to do.  They started at the top, and worked their way down, making it to number thirty-three before the end.

And he died free.


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