[stylist] introduction+bonus grammar request

Donna Hill penatwork at epix.net
Wed Jan 5 18:38:43 UTC 2011 

Hi Julie,
Bookshare has the Chicago Manual of Style and the Elements of Style, 
which are both highly respected. NLS carries "The Elephants of Style" 
which is a great read and covers many of the controversies in modern 
writing rules. I'm sure RFB&D must have many books on grammar as well.
Donna

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On 1/5/2011 1:27 PM, Julie J wrote:
> Heya all!
>
> I joined a bit ago and have been reading when I can.  I see lots of 
> familiar people on this list.*waves*
>
> anyhow, I'm Julie. I live in eastern NE with my farmer husband, 
> teenage son and two dogs.  I joined because I'm currently working on a 
> book.   In the beginning it was fun and I loved to work on it.  Now 
> I'm in the editing/rewriting/fixing phase.  It's not so fun.  I was 
> hoping that someone would have a recommendation of a book or website 
> that would help me with grammar.  Some of my sentences just don't flow 
> well and others come up in the spell/grammar check with no 
> recommendations of a fix.  If it makes a difference my writing style 
> is very informal and the book is nonfiction.
>
> TIA
> Julie
>
>
>  ----- Original Message ----- From: "Donna Hill" <penatwork at epix.net>
> To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> Sent: Wednesday, January 05, 2011 12:12 PM
> Subject: Re: [stylist] Hoody bit
>
>
> Brad, Good job. You are a very creative man.
> Donna
>
> Read Donna's articles on
> Suite 101:
> www.suite101.com/profile.cfm/donna_hill
> Ezine Articles:
> http://ezinearticles.com/?expert=D._W._Hill
> American Chronicle:
> www.americanchronicle.com/authors/view/3885
>
> Connect with Donna on
> Twitter:
> www.twitter.com/dewhill
> LinkedIn:
> www.linkedin.com/in/dwh99
> FaceBook:
> www.facebook.com/donna.w.hill.
>
> Hear clips from "The Last Straw" at:
> cdbaby.com/cd/donnahill
> Apple I-Tunes
> phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewAlbum?playListId=259244374
>
> Check out the "Sound in Sight" CD project
> Donna is Head of Media Relations for the nonprofit
> Performing Arts Division of the National Federation of the Blind:
> www.padnfb.org
>
>
> On 1/5/2011 9:14 AM, Brad Dunse wrote:
>> for a little self-amusement this morning :)
>>
>> The store manager was new so I suppose you really couldn't blame him. 
>> I don't think he had much experience in this sort of thing before, 
>> but after an incident such as this, I'm sure he's learned a thing or 
>> two. A few of us tried to tell him early on but it was as if he 
>> didn't even hear us, or as if he couldn't understand us at all. It 
>> was almost like he didn't speak our language. Well, anyway… we didn't 
>> push too hard because we had heard he was a bit hot under the collar, 
>> though you really would not have thought that by just looking at him. 
>> I mean his white pressed short sleeved shirt and bright tan slacks 
>> were… hmmm alright. I mean the slacks weren't that dark so they were 
>> OK. I mean he couldn't wear white slacks too or he'd look like a 
>> doctor or something, you know, too clean and proper. No, the light 
>> tan slacks were OK, too dark and well, you know, *spoken in a 
>> whisper* the darky slacks… no matter how you try to contrast them… 
>> because of their color they just send the wrong message you know.
>>
>> I on the other hand, with my official medium sky blue long sleeves, 
>> neatly pressed chest pockets, stiff unwrinkled collar standing proud 
>> atop the wide shoulders, sharply contrasted dark blue slacks creased 
>> commanding municipal respect being tied off at the waist by a shiny 
>> black leather belt, knew this sort of thing happens from time to 
>> time. I might have expected it too from the murmuring I thought I 
>> heard earlier on in the evening.
>>
>> I'd say it happened somewhere around 11:00PM, shortly after closing 
>> time and all the store personnel had gone home for the night. The 
>> place was dark and only the security lights lit certain areas of the 
>> store. The dress shirt section was well lit and out in the open, as 
>> was the tank tops and plane sweat shirts. Even the wild carefree 
>> T-shirts with their brazen multi-colored logos slapped on them like 
>> cheap chest tattoos were out in the open. There were others though 
>> that were hidden in the shadows of the security lights. If anyone 
>> should have been hidden from the light it should really have been the 
>> negligees and unmentionables but no, it wasn't that way, not like 
>> other stores with… well you see, this is where the store manager… 
>> well I'm sure he knows now, but it always has to come to something 
>> like this before anything is done about it.
>>
>> As I said I think it had to be a little after 11:00PM, shortly after 
>> closing time, maybe 11:30PM I'm not really sure. I was standing there 
>> quiet-like, the store was all still. And out of the buzzing noise of 
>> the scantly illuminating fluorescents, I thought I heard this 
>> whispering. At first I wasn't sure but then it seemed to get louder. 
>> Sure enough I began to hear these voices and right away I knew what 
>> was happening. Their accent and dialect gave them away even in the 
>> darkness. As the murmuring grew louder I began to pick out what was 
>> being said.
>>
>> "Look at you mon weeth your foncy stripes and pressed coalars... get 
>> a load ofe deece guy mon... oh... tsk tsk tsk. Aw. Jew popped a 
>> coople boatens. Aw Chus like deece one here, dos a shame mon".
>>
>> I knew right then we had trouble and it wasn't going to be pretty. 
>> But what was I to do. The manager had me clipped up on the display 
>> wall with arms stretched out like I was being crucified. I'm telling 
>> you, I mean I'm not saying? I'm just saying. You know, I think the 
>> manager had a lot of missed responsibility here. New or not, well 
>> anyway, I could hear things were heating up from another section ...
>>
>> "Hey man look at this feller. he's a thinkin' he's purdy smart wit 
>> dat Rayon tag he's a sportin' there. Well I'll just..."
>>
>> And then I heard this horrible tearing sound. I mean he made off like 
>> he was going to rip off just the tag but it sounded like he tore the 
>> whole arm off the guy. All this was happening just around the corner 
>> where I couldn't quite get a good look at who the trouble makers 
>> were, but I knew.. Oh, I knew alright. It was easy for the cops to 
>> tell too when they finally came in the next morning.
>>
>> But anyway pinned helpless there I heard another scream, I looked and 
>> finally I could see something of what was going on just outside of 
>> the shadows. It was coming from the negligee section.
>>
>> "Get your hands off me you, you... you... piece of white... help! Help!"
>>
>> I looked over and it confirmed my suspicion. The upper part of his 
>> garment was the tell tale thing but with Lederhosen? I mean that's an 
>> odd combination but these trouble makers, they'll wear anything for 
>> an identity that draws attention to them.
>>
>> All of a sudden the voices got louder. The trouble makers with there 
>> accents and dialects were pushing shoving and ripping everyone off 
>> their hangers. You could hear shirts drop to the floor, some in just 
>> a protective fetal position, and others because they were yanked off 
>> the rack, thrown down and stomped. Screams and torrents of 
>> obscenities rang out along with fabric names. Cotton, Rayon, Wool, 
>> Polyester Blend, you name it and it was yelled out just before they 
>> were beaten or tore to shreds. If attacking them for their textile 
>> ethnicity wasn't good enough, the troublemakers began spewing out 
>> styles. V-necks, tank tops, button down, short sleeve, long sleeve, 
>> no sleeve, it didn't matter they were out to make their mark in the 
>> clothing section of the store. cries for help rang out one after 
>> another and like I say, there I was pinned against the wall in "nail 
>> me to the cross" mode, unable to do anything.
>>
>> Well, by the time the store manager got there in the morning every 
>> stitch of clothing was tossed on the floor. Buttons lay randomly in 
>> the isles along with ripped off collars, pockets and sleeves. Hangers 
>> littered the main isle next to crumpled broken plastic displays and 
>> metal tubular hanging racks tipped over. I was lucky enough to have 
>> landed face down with the top of my display wall propped up against 
>> the feet of the denim shirt's round rack that was in front of me 
>> before all this started, so I wasn't crushed. Yes, every stitch of 
>> clothing was either tore, had its buttons popped, its buckles 
>> wrenched off, or otherwise destroyed. When the humans walked in only 
>> one set of garments was left sitting untouched and only slightly 
>> misarranged according to size as if they scampered to return to the 
>> rack before someone saw.
>>
>> That's when they knew who caused all this trouble. Those 
>> troublemakers the hoodys. Its always the hoodys, you can't trust a 
>> one of them I tel ya. And it doesn't matter if they have draw straps, 
>> are pull overs or zip, have tattoos on their chest like the T-shirts 
>> or not. No matter what color, solid or multi-colored, they all were 
>> there hanging presuming innocence while the rest of us lay in a 
>> shambles on the store manager's pretty little floor.
>>
>>
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