April 3, 2025
In response to my plea for what writers would like to find in an editor’s post, Sara McBride, a member of my writing group, asked if I could list some of my pet peeves and common errors in the manuscripts I read and edit.
I was fascinated by her question. It would never have occurred to me on my own, and even if it did, I might not think that my peeves would be important to anyone.
Once she asked, though, it made perfect sense. It was such a good suggestion that I will devote this and at least one more issue to pet peeves.
But – and here’s what’s important — stay tuned for the second part of this post. That’s the part where I turn it around and put the question of common writing mistakes in perspective – and I hope that’s the part that will be useful for you.
Hint: it may not be a surprise; it may, in fact, reinforce your writing instinct and give you a boost in confidence about being a powerful writer.
So I’ll begin with the first one of my main Pet Peeves: not knowing the difference between a compound sentence and a complex sentence with a subordinate clause.
The sentence is simply one of the basic tools; a writer who does not know how to write all forms of sentences is like a carpenter who can hammer on things but can’t figure out how to use a saw or a plane, or a musician who hasn’t practiced scales in all the keys.
I mean, what are you doing, trying to write a narrative that consists of sentences lined up in a row to make sense – and even hoping to attract readers – if you haven’t considered deeply and mastered the skill of writing a sentence?
Mastery of any skill requires attention to all its forms, and writing a sentence is no different. The forms of sentences are not complicated.
There are simple sentences, compound sentences, complex sentences, and compound-complex. You can Google “Types of Sentence” and find out what they are. And even if you already know these things, I recommend you do. You’ll unearth some interesting reading.
But in this post, I am focusing on Compound Sentences. So here, at no cost to you, is my take on compound sentences. (Should I add: “But wait! There’s more!” for extra drama?)
The most common problem I come across is simple ignorance: Not knowing what Compound Sentences are – and not punctuating them accordingly. Or – what I sense in some writers – not even knowing the difference between a compound and a complex sentence.
I’m not sure what happened sometime in the 1960s or a little later – Maybe it was a shadow passing over the moon? Maybe an unrecorded plague that swept the English-speaking world (or at least that part of it where people speak the Standard Midwest dialect)? Or maybe all the intelligent, demanding, stern, and thorough English teachers dropped out and turned on – dare I imagine that they joined communes?
But I am sure about this: from the 1970s on, American students ranging from 1st grade to graduate school seem to have lost the art of writing a compound sentence – or even the ability to distinguish between one of those and its less-stressed sister, the complex sentence.
I suspect that’s because their teachers went silent on the matter. For any of the reasons I have suggested above.
One of my favorite books, that droll arbiter of language, Eats Shoots and Leaves by Lynn Truss, describes the compound sentence succinctly, and she gets at them, oddly enough, in her discussion of commas:
“Commas,” she writes, “are used when two complete sentences are joined together, using such conjunctions as and, or, but, while, and yet.” To illustrate her point she leans on this example, “The boys wanted to stay up until midnight, but they grew tired and fell asleep.” ( page 87) Simple, right?
Or maybe not. If she had written that sentence without the subject in the second clause, the comma would have been out of place, e.g., “The boys wanted to stay up until midnight but instead grew tired and fell asleep.” (ibid.) Correct, but the sentence would not read nearly as nicely without the emphasis that the second subject, they, adds to it.
That grandaddy of the writers’ manuals, The Elements of Style by Strunk and White, presents the same rule, starting at the same place, the comma, in its usual terse style.
“Place a comma before a conjunction introducing an independent clause. . . Two-part sentences of which the second member is introduced by as (in the sense of ‘because’), for, or, not, or while (in the sense of ‘and at the same time’) likewise require a comma before the conjunction.” (p. 4) Although they left out the other conjunction used in joining compound sentences, which is “yet,” their description of the rule is sound.
Then, just this morning one promising writer, Linda Viviane, asked if I knew what FANBOY stands for. When I pleaded ignorance, she unfolded it for me as follows: it’s an acronym for the coordinating conjunctions that introduce a compound sentence, to wit – For, And, Nor, But, Or, and Yet. Go figure.
And, go write right. And now for . . .
The Turn Around
But wait; there’s more, and IMO what you read from here on is more important than my pet peeve.
So far I have only described my personal reactions while reading a manuscript.
That’s what Sara asked for, and when I am editing, I often do run across that kind of error and gnash my teeth. I point out each shortcoming line by line as I go along, encourage the writer to fix it, and then I go on to the next sentence.
But in real life errors of structure and punctuation in a first or are not really very important problems.
What is?
Writing to the end of the draft. Never mind your editor’s peeves. As the song (and Proverbs) says, “For every thing, turn, turn, turn, there is a season, turn turn, turn, and a time for every purpose under heaven.”
The truth is, when a writer is punching through a first draft, the truly important thing is plowing ahead to capture the story while the inspiration is fresh and active – and while you remember those details that you wanted to include. The rest is bothersome, but all these errors that peeve me can and will be corrected.
The important task is to write, and usually if it’s going well, to write fast. A number of people in my Write Place Goal-Setting Group have adopted a goal of writing at least 25 minutes a day, five days a week.
That’s the right thing to focus on: get through the draft.
It might be a good practice for a writer to add a corollary goal: to set aside time each week to go back over the draft they are producing in these 25-minute sessions, which often turn into longer sessions BIC (Butt in Chair), and check for errors of this kind. They would save time and money in the editing phase, whether they edit themselves or engage an editor.
But for God’s sake, not while you’re immersed in the first draft. The purpose of writing in the first draft is to get enough down on the pages to form a framework, a skeleton that the muscle can hang on – and as much of the muscle and skin as you can without breaking stride.
Those interesting details that you remembered in the middle of the night or on a walk, and the inspirational descriptions or similes that flash before you when you’re hot and writing at top speed: those are important; getting it correct, exercising the skills of your craft, come in second every time.
Here’s an example from the far side: as an executive director of a non-profit at one point, I was responsible for publishing a monthly newsletter. I had a young, energetic assistant whose job was to be the reporter.
He would go out to do research and interview people about a topic and then come in and write – or that’s what he called it at least – the story.
When I would get his draft, the so-called story would consist of half-formed paragraphs and sketchy notes in incoherent sentence fragments strung together in little more than an annotated outline.
I would have to go over his strings of words, find the thread that held them together, fill in sentences, change the order of presentation, and in general write the story from his notes.
But that process worked for us for one reason: his reporting and his selection of material in the strings and segments of his outline was brilliant. He captured great ideas about very relevant topics in a way that turning them into sentences and paragraphs was easy most of the time.
And he was available whenever I could not decipher his points or organize the subordinate ones under a main point. When asked verbally, he could tell me how to organize the material; he just couldn’t focus on it long enough over his keyboard to do the job himself.
He was fixed on capturing those fleeting insights that made him so special and so good at reporting. The writing was secondary; it could be fixed.
The point of that story is to remind writers that the main purpose of a first draft is to capture the unfolding of the narrative, to string together the scenes that lead your reader from one step to the next in the hero’s or heroine’s journey. And if you’re a writer, that’s where the greatness lies.
So my advice to writers, which is consistent with that, is “Just Write!” Delivered in a gruff, maybe even loud, voice. Just write!
Then, if you can, go back and grind out a second draft in which you think about things like crafting your sentences, using the active voice, and organizing scenes around a beginning, a middle, and an end – and if you can, finish each scene and each chaper with a hook that pulls – nay, sucks – your readers ineluctably into the next scene so they can’t put the book down.
And while you’re at it, use that second time through to fill in details that will endear your characters to readers.
Remember, your MC (Main Character) and the other important characters must be intriguing enough, portrayed vividly enough, and maybe flawed enough in some way, that your reader cares about them and wants to know what they do, what they suffer, and whether they can succeed in overcoming their challenge or finding love or whatever their task is in the narrative.
That implies that your readers know what your characters look like, how they move and talk, how they cope with life’s daily routines, what they yearn for, their habits for better or for worse, their skills or pursuits of skills, and even, yes, their flaws.
Postscript
I do have some other pet peeves, and I will write about them too, regardless of my insistence on getting through the first draft no matter what.
So I reserve the right to come back to them in succeeding posts and do what I can to inspire you to pull up your socks . Stay tuned for what I hope will be some amusing scoldings in coming issues.
(c) James Newcomer, April 2025
