Perhaps no piece of punctuation gives us more trouble than the hyphen, in particular when we are trying to decide whether to hyphenate a compound modifier. In that realm, the average writer is as consistent as the stock market these days.

So, let’s review:

When a noun has more than one modifier, the modifiers are hyphenated when they act as a unit. In other words, they refer to the noun in a collective way. For example, we would refer to an “almost-empty bottle,” or a “soft-peddling approach.” Or an “orange-yellow sky.”

The rule is that you use a hyphen when the individual elements of the modifier cannot work alone without changing the meaning of the phrase. So, in the previous example, you wouldn’t say “almost bottle,” nor is the meaning “empty bottle.” Same thing with “soft approach.” Of course, you could say “orange sky,” but that is not the intended meaning.

Simple, right? Well, yes and no. The problem is the rule is clear for only very specific set of circumstances.  It is the complications and exceptions to the rule that not only cause the problems but also explain why writers muck it up so often.

First of all, we need to distinguish compound modifiers from a simple series of modifiers. For example, we wouldn’t hyphenate “cold, dark night.” The individual modifiers work just fine alone. “A cold night.” “A dark night.”

And we also need to watch out for modifiers that are working to enhance everything in the phrase that follows them. For example, “hazy blue sky.” In this case “hazy” is modifying “blue sky,” rather than acting as a compound with “blue” to modify “sky.” It is worth noting, I suppose, that if you were waxing poetic and describing a shade of blue called “hazy blue,” you would consider hyphenating it.

The point of using a hyphen is to signal the reader to consider the two words together before moving on. We, as readers, are trained to think of modifiers as stand alone entities and writers need to do their part to interrupt that training when the sentence requires it.

Along the same lines: Remember that, in most styles, compound modifiers that include an “ly” adverb are not hyphenated. Why? Because readers expect “ly” adverbs to work with another modifier to do their jobs. So, we would not write “widely-distributed information.” But we would write “wide-mouthed frog.”

And just to add a couple more things to the mix.

1. We do not use hyphens with compound modifiers that routinely appear together. For example, we do not hyphenate “High School” in “High School Musical.” Or “men’s basketball” in “men’s basketball team.”
2. We do not hyphenate adjectives that have been made comparative or superlative by “most” and “more” The correct usage is “most talented writer” and “more qualified applicant.”

Well, that is probably as clear as mud, but you have to start somewhere. Good Luck

Most of us who learned grammar in the old days — in other words in the days when public schools actually taught grammar — were regularly treated to admonitions NOT to split infinitives.

But that was long ago, and let’s be honest, these days, only a few remaining purists get their knickers in a twist about an adverb or two lounging in between the “to” and the verb. Admittedly, they are right and should be accorded more respect than they get, but that doesn’t change the fact that for the vast majority, splitting an infinitive is no longer a “problem.”

Unfortunately, too many writers seem not to attend to infinitives at all, and one or two of the little monsters left wandering unattended can wreak havoc on a sentence. In other words, the problem of the infinitive extends beyond the split/don’t split debate and attention should be paid.

Infinitives (split or not) are self-contained units. They lurk like potholes in a road mucking up the progress of the sentence, jarring the reader and generally creating an annoying interruption in the flow.

Consider these sentences:

Families agree to give up lots of time, energy and money to make sure the events are successful as youth from FFA and 4-H groups prepare to show their prize animals and home economics projects.

• First, I am not sure anything is added by “agree.” The sentence could simple begin “Families give up…” But, if the first part of the sentence is important, then consider making the second part a subordinate clause: “… so they can assure the events are successful.” Or make the same infinitive a gerund: “… making sure the events…”

It’s going to be a tough year to create economic development initiatives. We’re going to continue to have to be creative in all of our partnerships with government.

• If you ask me, “to continue to have to xx” should be banned from usage for all eternity. How about a gerund: “continue having to be creative…” Or even consider a complete restructuring: “We need to be creative …” (The “continuation” is implied.)

Many people have the wrong impression that you have to give away millions to improve a situation.

• Here’s another candidate for eradication: “have to xx to xx.” You have to plan to. They have to expect to. We have to want to. The path to eradication in this case is a gerund, which also helps get to the point: “… that improving a situation requires you donate millions.”

Bottom Line: When you spot your sentence being dragged into the abyss by the weight of infinitives, consider one of these alternatives.

1. a gerund
2. a subordinate clause
3. a complete restructuring

What would you do to fix the following infinitive-laden sentences? Keep in mind, stacked up clauses and gerunds are no better solution. The key is variety.

• His lawyers descended to say that they plan to sue to force another full recount.
• The council is about to decide to undertake the steps to demolish the hospital, rather than to let it sit there and deteriorate over time.

I am a big fan of Ace of Cakes, the pseudo-reality drama on the Food Network. The folks who make up Charm City Cakes are my kind of creative geniuses.

Each episode, the quirky band of decorators is faced with the cake world’s version of a story to be told. After carefully crafting the base of the cake, (think outline), they begin the work of making its message come alive. First they apply a smooth, perfectly rolled fondant. Then other precise colors and accents are added, and the concept begins to emerge. A bit more theme-specific (and critical) detail work, and their vision in cake — the likes of which most of us could only dream of attaining — emerges.

Now contrast this to the average home baker who flails about the kitchen with inadequate equipment, hoping that a single icing tip and a spatula will suffice. Even if the cake is shaped correctly, the finish work is likely to brand the completed product as “homemade” — heartwarming for the intended recipients, but not likely to get the baker a place in the culinary spotlight.

Skilled writers shape their stories with the precision and detail of a skilled cake decorator. But writers who fail to craft their sentences with care are destined to overdecorate like an amateur with a butter knife. And like their baking cohort, they will no doubt create something, but when it is all said and done, audience appreciation will be limited to good friends and family who know how hard they tried. Not exactly the criteria for marketable success.

One of the most common (and easily improved) problem areas that leads to sloppy writing is redundancy, in particular the slathering on of adjectives and adverbs when the meaning is clear without them.

Consider these common examples:

joined together

“In 1998, a group of individuals with a love for the mountain joined together to form the Laurel Mountain Ski Company.”

• Have you every seen anyone “joined apart”? “Joined” implies “together.” No need for both words.

broad array

“RIM technology also enables a broad array of third party developers and manufacturers to enhance their products and services with wireless connectivity to data.”

• Ever been offered a “narrow array”? Websters defines an “array” as “an imposing group : large number.” Clearly, adding the modifier “broad” is redundant.

reason why

“Higgins says it’s clear profit is the sole reason why prices here are so high.”

Sherry’s Grammar List offers a wonderfully poetic explanation for why this is a redundancy: “The reason is already the why, and the why already means the reason. When you ask why, you’re asking for the reason, and when you ask for the reason, you’re asking for the why.”

final destination/final resolution/final outcome

“If the airline arranges substitute transportation that gets you to your final destination within an hour of your original scheduled arrival time, you won’t be compensated.”

“Mr. Sidorsky said he would fly to Moscow for more talks on Wednesday, an indication that a final resolution had not been found. “We hope to solve all other questions in the coming days,” he said”

“Oustimovitch said it’s clear his group won’t have a vote on the final outcome.”

• If a word implies “the end,” as in destination, solution and outcome, then it’s final. No need to final-ize it.

A note: The use of “final” with destination makes sense in the following sentence about “The Amazing Race,” where contestants race from one destination to another on the way to the end of the competition:

“At the airport each team bought tickets for their flight to their final destination of Portland.

share a common

“We’ve brought together two outstanding teams that share a common passion for innovation and commitment to customer success.”

“The two restaurants share a common kitchen between them, but The Loft is open only for the dinner-and-later crowd and leans toward a lounge atmosphere.”

I think we can assume that sharing implies having something in common.

mutually agreed

“FC Dallas announced that the club and defender Duilio Davino have mutually agreed to end his contract with FC Dallas”

• They either agreed, which is by definition mutual, or they didn’t, which is neither an agreement or mutual.

And the list goes on:

merged together

gathered together

completely destroyed

packed to capacity

random chance

You get the idea.

The solution to the problem of redundancy is the same solution to every writing problem: pay attention. Pay attention to what each word is doing in the sentence. But when it comes to redundancy in particular, be on the lookout for phrases that have become so common place, we read right over them without thinking.

I have decided to begin a new series of posts entirely dedicated to the little BUT IMPORTANT elements of English writing that seemed to have disappeared from the K-12 system

I am starting with “if” and “whether” not because I think it is the most important, but because I read yet another article in the New York Times today where “if” was used incorrectly and writing about it seemed better than having my head explode.

First, the basics:

Use “if” to express a condition.

• CORRECT: Comments are moderated and generally will be posted if they are on-topic and not abusive.
• WRONG: I don’t know if he’s ready for my New York game.

Use “whether” to express alternatives.

• CORRECT: Many of the assembled are questioning whether he is conservative enough.

• CORRECT: Their six-month truce comes to an end today, and neither is sure whether to renew it.

• WRONG: The officer told the investigator he was not sure if he fired his weapon.

Use either “if” or “whether” with:

1) Indirect questions.

No one knows for sure whether/if Iran has the rest of the components needed for a bomb.

He’s not sure whether/if he’s scored enough points with Santa to be getting one of those in his stocking.

2) Yes / No questions.

He wasn’t even sure if/whether he did any good.

She could not remember if/whether he brought his coat.

Clearly, it is not simply a matter of knowing the rules or more people would get it right. So, let’s get geeky and try to tattoo this on the grammar sections of our brains.

Be advised! We are heading into grammar term territory.

1) After a preposition, use “whether.”

If you don’t know what a preposition is, hop over to our grammar site and have yourself a bit of study. If you have a general sense of the little buggers, then you are ready to follow the rule: preposition + choice of  “if” or “whether” = “whether”

• CORRECT: For actions on a site that might be considered private, shouldn’t users have the choice about whether to make them public?
• CORRECT: The test for whether such internal loans make economic sense is exactly the same as the test for external loans.
• WRONG: “Batman is Batman, regardless of if Bush is in the White House or not,” he said.

2) Before infinitives, use “whether.”

Same first step, if you don’t know what infinitive are, study on them here.

• CORRECT: The clinic workers, who have been detained for two months while authorities decide whether to charge them, deny that they did anything wrong.

But don’t be misled into using “whether” rather than “if” preceding an infinitive if the “if” is part of the conjunction “as if.”

• EXAMPLE: As if to ward off the mayhem outside, the soldiers have held to some military rituals.

You would have gotten that on your own, right? Really, how incoherent would the sentence be? “As whether to ward off the mayhem outside, the soldiers have held to some military rituals.”

3) When the sentence contains a two-part option with “or,” use “whether.”

• CORRECT: The captain said he could not remember whether they had asked for the money or demanded it.
• CORRECT: They were asked whether they had modified their views as a result of their visit to the Soviet Union
• WRONG: It’s not clear if they simply failed to consider the privacy implications or thought about it and decided it didn’t matter.

4). If the “alternatives” lead the sentence, use “whether.” In other words, if instead of being connected by “or” the two-part option begins the sentence, you still use “whether.”

• CORRECT: Whether they spoke for Progressive or reactionary candidates, they took the view that the incumbent was out of it.
• WRONG: Asked if the rabbit in cream sauce could be split in half or must the kept whole, the waiter shrugged.

5) When the clause containing the “option” is a subject or a predicate nominative, it’s best to use “whether.” (”If” is acceptable in some circumstances but not preferred so why risk it?)

• CORRECT: Henry is certainly a capable chef, but whether he can master the intricacies of Vietnamese soup is another question.

(”Whether” is the subject of the verb “is.”)

• CORRECT: The question is whether I buy a TV or something more important.”

(”[W]hether I buy a TV” is the question and the question is “whether I buy a TV.” They are connected by a linking verb, making the “whether” clause a complement/predicate nominative. Do I need to tell you again to go the Web site if you don’t know the parts of a sentence?

• WRONG: The question is if the lingering bitterness from the port deal is going to outweigh the stretched hand of needy institutions.

Okay. That’s enough of that. Best of luck out there.