If the Oxford comma is a prepster in chinos and a green LaCoste polo, I’m a hipster in a dirty flannel shirt and skinny jeans. If the Oxford comma is, in fact, Oxford, I’m the year you took off college to go chill with some Maasai in Kenya. If the Oxford comma is a MacBook Pro, I’m that manual typewriter you got at a yard sale that everyone sees and asks, “Is that a real typewriter? Can I try it?”
Who needs the Oxford comma? Shoot who needs commas in general?
We’re introducing a new series, long planned, on the Write Practice. We’re going to choose one of our favorite practices and talk about why it was so cool (or not!).
Sometimes you just have to say, “Rules? No no no. F*&# rules. I’m not following any rules.”
That’s why on Saturdays, we at the Write Practice break some rules.
On Thursday, Matt Snyder wrote a great post about three ways to provoke your audience to action. He told a heart-wrenching story of a young girl forced into prostitution in Thailand. It’s the kind of story that makes you want to get up and smash some gross American men’s faces in.
It makes me want to do something.
But it’s not Thursday anymore. It’s Saturday, and on Saturday we do things differently.
Instead of provoking your audience to action, what if you provoked them to inaction?
You have two brains: a creating brain and a controlling brain. Both are good, but they don’t always get along. The problem is that your controlling brain has been fed for years. It has been well educated by well-meaning teachers while your creative brain was left to wither, sick in bed.
What is an interjection? I like how F.J. Rhatz describes them, “a noisy utterance like the cry of an animal.”
I was speed walking from my bedroom to the kitchen to grab a snack. I was so famished I walked too fast and hit my pinky toe on a door. Ouch! Crap! Darn it!
Those are interjections.
