The Olympics start on Friday. I don't know about the rest of you, but I am excited beyond reason. I'm especially excited about the Olympic speedwalking. Yes, it's a real event, and you need to Youtube it immediately. You can thank me later. I don't think there's really a way that I could've expressed my enthusiasm adequately.
And yes, could've is an acceptable contraction. What is not acceptable is saying “could of” instead, because that is just plain wrong.
In speech, when you contract “could have,” “would have,” or “should have,” you end up with what sounds like, “could of,” “would of,” and “should of.” However, that is not what should be written. Contractions are abbreviations of words blending together. Can't is a contraction of “cannot.” Won't is a contraction of “will not.” The proper contracted forms of could/would/should have look like could've/would've/should've.
PRACTICE
Write for fifteen minutes about a nervous competitor at the Olympics. Use the proper contracted forms of could/would/should have when applicable. Post your practice in the comments and leave notes for your fellow practicers.
Thank you Liz! I feel so irked when I see people write these contractions incorrectly but perhaps they are just writing what they think they are hearing.
I can’t wait for the Olympics either!
“Okay, here goes.”
In the final mila-seconds before the start buzzer goes off, after all the training, all the pep talks, all the physical and mental walls shattered and overcome over the past 3 years, in those final seconds, those three words are the only ones in my mind. Everything is perfectly, oddly, clear. Time has stopped and I’m seeing things as if I’m not even apart of it. Is this the out of body experience Bela talked about? Despite the thousands of spectators screaming, some in support, others hoping their own will take me down; I can’t hear any of it. It’s as if someone pressed mute. It’s just my breath and those three words.
Walking into the arena this morning was like nothing I could have ever imagined. Me…at the Olympics. I mean it’s not like it hasn’t been all I’ve dreamt about for as long as I remember. But, even in my wildest dreams it was still just that, my wildest dreams. And now, uniformed up, hands chalked, waiting for that buzzer to sound, I stand here, a place so few get to experience. The Olympics. I don’t think I’ll ever get over this high. Everything has culminated to this one, perfect moment.
Yet, despite all the years of training, all the parties sacrificed for a meet, all the money, time, blood, sweat, and tears, despite it all, it’s just those three words ringing in my ears.
Any second now….BEEP
“This is mine”
I should’ve listened to my mother. She told me to pack sunblock. I thought I could’ve just picked some up here in London. Who would’ve known the Brits don’t use SPF and have weird sunblock labels I can’t seem to understand? My mother would’ve known. Now I’m supposed to run a marathon and slowly burn. I should’ve known London would’ve had to experience record setting heat during the Olympics. I suppose I could’ve borrowed sunblock from a team mate. Oh well. I’ll remember to pack my own sunblock for the Rio 2016 games for sure!
An ode to sunblock.. I like it! And I agree, you should have never left home without it! What in the world where you thinking!??!!!!???
This was HARD!! I realize I rarely use the shouldawouldacoulda’s.. not when I speak or when I write. However, I suppose it’s good practice were I to every run into a cranky whiny character in one of my books…. Here’s what I came up with in 15 min:
“Can you even believe it?” gasped
Lucy.
“I can’t, I can’t” clucked Betty.
“It shouldn’t have happened. You know I’m right.”
“I know, I know,” echoed Betty.
“Hush up now, here’s that handsome
announcer. He’ll tell us what’s really
going on. It couldn’t possibly be as bad
as we think.”
Betty shushed the other residents. “Shhhh.
Our programs on.”
The room stilled. All except Harold who couldn’t stop coughing,
because his life depended on it.
“Harold!” snapped Lucy.
“I’m (cough) going, I’m (cough)
going,” Harold grumbled as he shuffled his wasted body and his rickety walker
past the TV set and down the hall to his room.
“Lucy! You shouldn’t have,” scolded Betty as she
watched Harold’s retreating form struggle down the hall. She watched until he blurred out of focus and
disappeared into the white noise that lay past the reach of her watery vision.
“Oh yes, I should have. Now quiet!
They are about to tell us what happened.”
The TV hissed and crackled as an
announcers voice fought it’s way out of the dusty well-worn speakers and into
the equally worn and excessively hairy ears of the residence.
“Many called him the Casanova in
sneakers and it’s no secret the USA was depending on him to bring home the
gold. So what went wrong? I’ll tell you what went wrong.” A ragged inhale of anticipation rattled the
rockers that were strewn about the room.
“Corey Turner, who we all thought waddled on gold made two career-ending
errors. You’ll here them here first—the two
moment’s that should never have been… the two errors he could have easily
avoided… after the break.”
“FIDLESTICKS!” cried Lucy, her
rocker creak-creak-creaking in agitation. “It’s almost nap time.”
“Lordy, Lordy,” Betsy wailed as she fanned
herself with the TV guide. “He shouldn’t have led us on like that. I don’t think I could take it if I had to nap
without knowing what happened.”
“Humph,” agreed George, “I should
have known they would drag this thing out.
Young people today, no respect for anything. That’s what this is about, I garen-dang-tee it! RESPECT!
If I were thirty years younger and a hundred pounds lighter…” A room
full of eyes rolled in unison behind their bifocals. “I’d have walked circles around Corey Turner,”
George spat. His own eyes slumped to his
wheel chair and his bravado broke. “back
in my day I was the fastest thing on two feet. You should have seen me…”
“Hush up, George. He’s back,” Lucy ordered.
Betty caught a blur of white in her
periphery. She didn’t need the 20/20
sight of her youth to tell her it was a nurse, “get on with it….”she urged.
“Turner could have taken home the
title but instead he chose to take home the girl…”
“I knew it!” cried Lucy, leaping to
her feet with long lost agility.
“SHHHH,” cried Betty and George.
“… The girl in question was none other then Sweedish long jumper, Tilda Otto
and this only hours before the big race. But the biggest mistake of all…”
A flurry of white and a click, hiss
and pop later, the secret dissolved into to a single dot of light. “Time for your naps.”
Thanks for the prompt Liz … am practising “show don’t tell” and using the could’ve, would’ve and should’ve to do it. Is ths Jamaican enough?
It’s a grey day. Been grey days all this week. And mon,
shiverin’ cold ‘nuff to blast your ol’ man’s balls to walnuts.
The bro’from Putnam, he tells me it’s good weather this.
Skin grey like that sky, mon, he’s no Jamaican whatever he sez ‘bout eating
plantains like the best of us. He’s not got the glory o’ the green and gold on
him. He’s runnin’ in Union Jack colors,
he is.
I should’ve mouthed of. Tol’ him, this ain’t the Jamaica
sun, no bro, this isn’t. You lost that m’mon. You ol’ whitey now, mon. I would’ve brot’ that good old sun along with
me if I could’ve. But that sun, it’ staying’ right there at home. This son’s boyd is what I got here.
He don’t let me say what I should’ve, that no bro from
Putnam. He strolls over, the coolest cat, to the centre lane, where the ‘gonna
wins’ be. I settle in ma’ lane, the
furthest out one where the ‘just made its’ are.
I hop on my right foot then my left. I touch my toes and
wiggle them like ma’ ol’ man tol’ me. I swing my good strong body right and
left and right and wipe out them shouts from the stands. I erase that word ‘just’
from ‘just made it’. I’m here m’mon, and I’m runnin’.
I stands up and say a prayer. And the ol’ guy, he senz me
out a ray of good ol’ Jamaican gold. Just one ray. I’m goin’! And … I’m there!
This is extremely rough, so please be kind 🙂
**************************************
Vernola knew
this was her time to shine, but she couldn’t think clearly. She
wouldn’t let this muddle her performance. This was her one shot, her
one opportunity to leap herself forward into stardom, into athletic
immortality. She wanted to be at the top among the best runners. She had to get out of this fog. Her eyes were lead, her mind was chaotic, and her heart felt like it was going to
jump ship and run away. Vernola shouldn’t feel this way. She knew
she had to snap out of it and quick. Her coach counted on her to excel. Now that they were in London all her hours of
practice were coming down to one race. She couldn’t let him down.
She wouldn’t. She also shouldn’t let herself down. Vernola cringed with her mind’s downward spiral.
Vernola went to the sink to splash cold water on her face and speak affirmations to herself in the mirror. Lines
and shadows circled her eyes. She looked muddy, like someone had
stuck her in front of a carnival mirror that warped her facial
structure. She held both sides of her head in her hands and shook it
back and forth. She stuck out her tongue. WAKE UP! she screamed.
It didn’t sound like her voice, but rather some far off distant voice
that was coming from outside her room.
Vernola’s phone vibrated. It was Coach. Where are you? Practice warm up in 10. Make that 9!
Vernola panicked herself around her room. She couldn’t gather her strength, she wouldn’t be in top form, and she shouldn’t have went out drinking the night before.
So far you’re the only one who truly did the exerciser and DID IT WELL!!! Your should have’s and Would have’s seemed a natural part of the story and you rocked them! Loved this: “She looked muddy” … great description and also liked that she panicked herself all over the room.. I have done that numerous times! one correction which you’d probably see in re-reads but is something I constantly point out to my kids because their daddy is a farm boy and uses it all the time =) “she shouldn’t have went out drinking” she shouldn’t have GONE out drinking. Believable story.
Thank you so much Alisha! That “went out drinking” is definitely a grammar no-no! Maybe Vernola is a farm girl at heart?! 🙂 Thanks for your critique. I appreciate it!
Off topic, perhaps, but I’m not a fan of sports. But I am excited about the Olympics, because Palestinians are competing and I’ve gotten to know them by blogging several interviews with the Palestinian Olympic swim team coach. I’m routing for them!
(Yes, I am this far behind!)
My English teacher last semester told us to NEVER use contractions in our public writing.
I have been doing this for a year now. My concern with avoiding contractions all together is how unnatural my writing may sound to a reader.
I need advice in the area of contractions in my blogging/writing.
Hey James. Your teacher is stuck in the 1950s. Go check the front page of The New Yorker today. The first article’s subtitle has a contraction:
“Obama doesn’t like cozying up to billionaires. Could it cost him the election?”
If the New Yorker can do it, trust me, you can do it.
http://www.newyorker.com/
I was hoping you’d say that!
Viva la revolution!
Haha!
The New Yorker is your standard? hahaha