A.J. Cattapan

Yesterday afternoon, I found myself writing a note in which I ended a sentence with the word “in.” The English teacher in me almost began to twitch at the prospect of ending a sentence with a preposition until I realized I wasn’t using “in” as a preposition at all. I was using “in” as an adverb.

What’s the difference?

A preposition requires an object (a noun or pronoun) after it. For example, The answer is in the book. In is a preposition in this sentence because it is followed by the noun book. Like all prepositions, in is showing a relationship between a noun and another word in the sentence. In this case, in gives the relationship between the book and the answer.

An adverb tells how, when, where, or to what extent. It usually modifies a verb. So when I write a sentence like “Please turn your papers in,” I’m using in as an adverb telling where the papers should be turned. There is no noun that can act as an object after in in this sentence, so go ahead and leave it at the end all by itself. It’s an adverb. It can take it.

In the meantime, please turn in all your papers to the teacher in the above photo. I can’t take any more grading. 🙂

Photo via Wikimedia Commons

At this point, I’ve read three of the nominees for Best Juvenile Mystery for the 2013 Edgars. This is my favorite so far. It’s got an unusual mystery told with memorable characters and an engaging voice.

Title: Three Times Lucky

Author: Sheila Turnage

Genre: Mystery

Age group: Middle Grade

Synopsis: Moses “Mo” LeBeau, who refers to herself as a “rising sixth grader,” has been living with “the Colonel” ever since she washed ashore at Tupelo Landing, North Carolina, during a nasty hurricane. While Mo enjoys helping out at the cafe run by the Colonel and Miss Lana, she really wants to find her “Upstream Mother,” the one who set her in a basket Moses-style eleven years ago. Plans to find her birth mother get sidetracked when the small town’s local grouch ends up murdered, the Colonel disappears, and Miss Lana ends up kidnapped. Mo and her best friend Dale decide to start their own detective agency when a sheriff from a local big city comes in to investigate.

Does it pass the “Homeschool Mom Test“? In a word, yes.

This book gets two important aspects of middle grade literature really right: character and voice. The Colonel can’t remember his past. His hair’s cut in a close crop, his clothes are hung in the closet with military precision, and he refers to Mo as “Soldier.” Mo is working on writing her autobiography. She’s just begun a new spiral notebook titled The Piggly Wiggly Chronicles, Volume 6. She pens letters to her unknown “Upstream Mother,” and attempts to find her by putting messages in bottles and dropping them in rivers anywhere and everywhere she can, with the hope her birth mother will find it.

Bottom line? I’d buy a copy of this for my classroom, and I’d recommend it to kids who like mysteries or spunky girl characters.

A student asked me about this a couple days ago. It’s one of those grammar rules I feel like I know inherently simply from being a voracious reader, but we took a moment in class to pinpoint the distinction between “every day” and “everyday.”

“Every day” is a combination adjective + noun. We use it in sentences when we mean to say “each day.” For example, we might say, “I eat three meals every day.”

“Everyday” is an adjective. We use it to describe a noun. According to Merriam-Webster, it means “encountered or used routinely or typically : ordinary.” For example, “The sun rising in the east is an everyday occurrence.”

In other words, if you can substitute the word ordinary, you want everyday. If you can substitute the two words each day (or per day), then you want every day.

I don’t know if this book will win the 2013 Edgar Award for Best Juvenile Mystery, but it definitely wins for longest title!

Title: Fake Mustache: Or, How Jodie O’Rodeo and Her Wonder Horse (And Some Nerdy Kid) Save the U.S. Presidential Election From a Mad Genius Criminal Mastermind

Author: Tom Angleberger (Also the author of the Origami Yoda series)

Genre: Mystery

Age group: Middle Grade

Synopsis: Seventh grader Lenny Flem, Jr., accompanies his best friend Casper when he purchases a “man about town” suit and an expensive handlebar mustache. That night a bank is robbed by a short man wearing a “man about town” suit and sporting a fabulous handlebar mustache. Lenny soon discovers that his friend has become possessed by the mustache and is able to hypnotize everyone who hears him speak. When Lenny discovers the possessed Casper’s plans to take over the world, he decides to stop him with the help of former preteen rodeo star, Jodie O’Rodeo.

Does it pass the “Homeschool Mom Test“? There is no objectionable language or sexuality in this book.

“Silly” is the word I’d use to describe this book, but it’s just the kind of silliness young boys love. Don’t expect a realistic tale if you decide to jump into this story. Do expect a quick read and a whole lot of cartoon-type behavior.

This week I tackled the 400+ page behemoth that is The Edge of Nowhere.  This is the second contender for the 2013 Edgar for Best YA Mystery that I’ve read this year. It was also recently nominated for the Agatha Award.

Title: The Edge of Nowhere

Author: Elizabeth George

Genre: Mystery

Age group: YA (teens)

Synopsis: Becca King can hear other people’s thoughts in the forms of whispers. When she “hears” her stepfather’s criminal activity, she and her mom decide to disappear. Becca’s mom arranges to leave her on Whidbey Island with an old friend, but when Becca arrives, she discovers that her mom’s friend has just died. While trying to hide her true identity, Becca meets many of the island’s inhabitants who all have secrets to hide. Of course, it’s hard to hide secrets completely from a girl who can hear thoughts.

Does it pass the “Homeschool Mom Test“? For a contemporary YA novel, the language was pretty clean. A few minor swears are used, but they don’t dominate the novel by any means. There is a brief scene of boys sexually harassing a high school girl.

I enjoyed this book more than the one other Edgar YA nominee I’ve read so far. The author Elizabeth George lives on Whidbey Island (yep, it’s a real place!), and she does a great job of making the setting a “character” in this book.

I have only two minor complaints. First, there’s a good amount of “head hopping.” At first, we are following Becca’s perspective from a third-person limited narrator, but a quarter of the way in, we start getting other characters’ perspectives.

My other minor complaint is that this book is the beginning of a series, so if you’re looking for a resolution to Becca’s problem with her stepdad, you don’t get it in this book. There is another problem presented in this novel, and that one is wrapped up by the end.

When I’m doing reading all the nominees for the Edgar, I’ll let you know my favorite.

Many people I’ve met through writing groups (both online and in person) talk about how “evil” adverbs are and how we should cut them from our writing. Stephen King talks about this in his book On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft. While I enjoyed his book and I respect my fellow writers, sometimes we really need adverbs. (See what I did there? I used the adverb really.)

The question is, when to cut the adverb and when to keep it?

First of all, we should know what an adverb is. An adverb modifies a verb, adjective, or other adverb. It can answer one of several questions:

• How?
• When?
• Where?
• To what extent?

Mostly people think of adverbs as being -ly words. While this is often true, not all adverbs end in -ly. For example, in the previous sentence the word often is an adverb that answers the question when.

Also, not all words that end in -ly are adverbs. For example, lovely ends in -ly, but it’s an adjective because it answers the question what kind and would modify a noun. I once saw  an eager critiquer highlight every -ly word an author had used and suggest she cut them all. Unfortunately, quite a few of those -ly words weren’t adverbs at all.

So when should you cut an adverb and when should you keep it? Keep the adverb only if it adds meaning. Let’s say you have the following sentence:

“Come with me,” she whispered softly.

The adverb softly adds no new meaning to the sentence. If she’s whispering, clearly she’s talking softly. Likewise, don’t say she said softly. Use the verb whispered instead. Never use two words where one would suffice.

Some adverbs can be cut 99% of the time. These include very, really, and just. I use a “search and destroy” method to root these adverbs out of my manuscripts. Most of the time, they’re filler.

On the other hand, don’t cut every single adverb you see. Sometimes you need them. For example, sometimes is an adverb, and without it, my last sentence would lose meaning. Bottom line? If it adds meaning to the sentence, keep it. If not, cut it!

And if you still don’t believe me, remember that the word not is an adverb. Imagine if we cut all the not’s out of our sentences!

Image courtesy of digitalart / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I’m on my second week of reviewing the nominees for the 2013 Edgar Award. This week I tackle a contender for the juvenile category.

Title: Spy School

Author: Stuart Gibbs

Age: upper middle grade (to me this book screams “twelve-year-old boy”)

Genre: Mystery

Synopsis: Twelve-year-old Ben Ripley has been recruited by a secret school that trains junior CIA members. His parents and best friend think he’s headed off to a geeky science school, but Ben soon discovers that he’s entangled in a dangerous mission to uncover a mole hiding within the school. It doesn’t help that he’s fallen for an older spy girl with skills far superior to his. Can Ben save the school from the enemy and win the attention of the girl?

Does it pass the “Homeschool Mom Test”? Overall, Spy School is a relatively harmless story, especially compared to some of the movies and video games twelve-year-old boys enjoy. However, there are a few things in the book that might give some parents reason to pause before handing it to their son.

First, as a spy story, you can imagine that there’s going to be violence and weaponry. However, I thought the author did a pretty good job of bringing it to a middle grade level.  Our narrator, Ben, has terrible aim on the firing range at school, so the only time he handles a gun is at the very end of the story, and he doesn’t aim it at a living creature. I’d say more, but I’d ruin the ending.

Second, the words “damn” and “ass” are used once each in the story. Quite frankly, these words can be heard on network TV, but I know some parents still don’t want that in their kids’ reading material at all.

Third, the adults in the book are made to look pretty stupid. Sometimes, especially in the case of the principal at the school, they are made to look really stupid. This seems to be a common trend in modern middle grade literature. I’ve heard some parents express dismay about this, so I’m giving fair warning. Only a parent can judge if his or her child can handle that with grace.

Bottom line? Despite the fact that I guessed who the mole was really early on (maybe I’ve just read too many mysteries at this point), I enjoyed the different twists and turns in the plot. Gibbs really keeps the action moving. The poor narrator is attacked by the enemy and fellow classmates at every turn. I think twelve-year-old boys who like spy movies would gobble this up.

A few weeks ago, a friend asked me to post about the correct usage of the pronouns she and her.

When I mentioned this topic to another friend, he said, “Oh yeah, good topic. Do one on I and me, too.”

I responded, “Actually, that’s the same rule at work!” Yes, today we’re talking about . . .

SUBJECT AND OBJECT PRONOUNS!

Let’s start with two basic charts so that you know which pronouns fall into which category.

First, let’s look at the subject pronouns. If this chart looks familiar, it’s probably because you studied a foreign language and used a chart similar to it when conjugating verbs.

Now let’s look at the object pronoun chart.

What’s the difference between these two charts?

The subject pronouns can only be used for two things:

1. the subject of the sentence, as in “I went to the store.”
2. a subject complement, also known as predicate nominative or predicate noun. (Don’t ask me why we have so many names for the same thing.) An example of this would be, “The winner of the lottery was I.” Weird, right? That’s because we usually say, “I was the winner!” However, it’s precisely the reason that the sentence can be turned around that I is the correct pronoun.

The object pronouns can be used for three things:

1. Direct objects–These receive the action of the verb as in Please call me. The “me” in this sentence is receiving the action of the verb call.
2. Indirect objects–The person or thing that the action of the verb is done for or to. For example, Please send me the papers. The papers are the things being sent, so papers is the direct object. The papers are being sent to me, so me is the indirect object.
3. Objects of prepositions–You remember prepositions, right? All those little words that show relationships between things, like before, behind, after, below, beside, under, from, to. So if you say Please send the letter to me, you’re still going to use the word me not I because it follows the preposition to.

Confused yet? I’ll make this as simple as possible. The only time you use subject pronouns like I and she are when they are the subject of the sentence or you have one of those unusual “backward” sentences in which the word after the verb is equal to the subject.

Examples:

• She is the last person in line. The last person in line is she.
• He was the first person to call. The first person to call was he.

A common mistake is to use the subject pronouns at the end of the sentence all the time.

• INCORRECT: She copied the notes for my friend and I.
• CORRECT: She copied the notes for my friend and me. 
• HINT: Imagine the word friend was gone. You wouldn’t say, She copied the notes for I.

Another common mistake is to use an object pronoun as a subject.

• INCORRECT: Mark and her will write us back.
• CORRECT: Mark and she will write us back.
• HINT: Imagine Mark disappeared. You wouldn’t say, Her will write us back.

So now can you guess which is correct? “Between you and I” or “between you and me”?

It’s “between you and me.” Between is a preposition, so it requires an object pronoun.

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Today I start my first of the Edgar-nominated YA and juvenile mystery books for 2013. If you haven’t seen the list of nominees, you’ll find them here. I’m starting off with Amelia Anne is Dead and Gone because, quite frankly, it was the only one of the nominees I could find at the library last weekend. I’ll give you the basics first, and then my thoughts on it.

Title: Amelia Anne is Dead and Gone

Author: Kat Rosenfield

Genre: Mystery

Age group: YA (definitely teens not preteens)

Synopsis: Becca can’t wait to break free from her small town as soon as high school graduation is over, but when her boyfriend breaks up with her first, her world spins out of control. That same night, Amelia Anne, a recent college graduate, is killed on the road outside Becca’s small town. The story is told from two perspectives: Becca’s first person narrative and a third-person narrative of the events that led up to Amelia Anne’s death. The question: Who in the small town killed Amelia, and how is her life intertwined with Becca’s?

Does it pass the “Homeschool Mom Test“? Let’s see. The story opens with Becca having sex with her boyfriend in the back of his truck. She drops f-bombs throughout the story. She and a bunch of her friends engage in underage drinking without any real consequences. And oh yeah, Becca gets drunk with her mom at one point. Hmm. Yes, I think I can safely say that none of the homeschool moms I know would buy this book for their daughter. Edgy may be popular in the publishing world, but it’s not popular with homeschooling moms.

Bottom line? The author has a nice literary style about her writing. The way she personifies the murderous death of Amelia Anne as it worms its way into the small town is quite lyrical. (Sample: “An anonymous death in a small town, that’s a different thing. It makes people uneasy . . . It seeps around the corners of locked front doors. It creeps into people’s bedrooms. It runs in their veins.”) However, the best mysteries I’ve read are ones where the ending takes me by surprise, and I guessed the ending of this book early on. So bottom line, I won’t be buying this for my classroom (not appropriate for sixth graders!) and I won’t be buying it for my teenage niece.

Will it win the Edgar Award for best Young Adult mystery? Who knows. This is the only one of the nominees I’ve read so far!

The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin includes everything I love about middle grade mystery books: quirky characters, clues the reader can solve, and just enough suspense to keep you going without giving you nightmares.

Title: The Westing Game

Author: Ellen Raskin

Age range: middle grade (ages 9-12)

Genre: mystery

Synopsis: Sixteen people move into an apartment building along Lake Michigan in Chicago. Shortly afterward, a wealthy neighbor dies, and all sixteen people become potential heirs to his fortune. Each is given a partner and a clue to who the murderer is. Whoever solves the crime wins the inheritance.

Does it pass the “Homeschool Mom Test“? Yes. No inappropriate language or actions here. This book’s a classic.

Bottom line? Love it! This is my favorite age group and my favorite genre. A perfect example of a fun middle grade mystery!