What does biweekly mean to you? How about bimonthly or biannually?

While each of us will have our own, perhaps unambiguous, reaction to it, the word biweekly is interpreted as "twice a week" or "once every two weeks." I know this from personal experience of confusing people en-masse. The dictionary even carefully, if unhelpfully, defines it as meaning either. It's a strange quirk of the English language. But it's so handy, what to do? An excellent concise solution is the word fortnightly.

Fortnightly has the helpful unambiguous quality that it means "once every fortnight," so "once every two weeks." And it's also just one word. If something happens "two times a week," I think you need to spell it out or use "twice a week" or perhaps "every Monday and Thursday."

The same source of confusion applies to the words bimonthly and biannually—to be sure of being understood correctly, it's best to avoid them. Phrases like "every second month," "every two months," "twice a month," or "two times each year" are helpful here.

Fortnightly

Writing has power. Power grows through repetition. And repetition, should you reuse the last words of a sentence at the start of the next, is called anadiplosis.

Like the amazing addition of alliteration, anadiplosis is a simple device to give more oomph to your words. Words that are barely changed but pack a lot more punch.

Even if you can't remember the specifics, there's something about Yoda's wisdom that make the logic sound impeccable and irresistible and the message deep. Deep, at least partly, from anadiplosis.

"Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering."

I learned about anadiplosis—and pleonasm, and ordering adjectives—from the entertaining and educational, The Elements of Eloquence by Mark Forsyth. Anadiplosis is from the ancient Greek ana meaning again, and diplous meaning double. The Greeks were fond of their techniques for persuasive speeches.

Anadiplosis

Braille is a tactile writing and reading system for the blind and visually impaired. It was invented by Louis Braille when just 15 in 1824. Respect! I don't know about you, but when I've tried braille on signs occasionally, it's always seemed difficult to train my fingers to differentiate the shapes and the dots. Perhaps it would have helped if I'd known how it worked.

Braille is based on a pattern of 6 dots, like a 6 on dice, with different letters, numerals, or sounds being different combinations. It doesn't match the shapes of written letters though, instead breaking the alphabet up into groups of 10. The first 10 letters are combinations of the top 4 dots. The following 10 letters repeat the combinations and add dot 3 in the bottom-left. Then the remaining letters, except w start again adding with dot 6 added. W wasn't in Louis Braille's original French alphabet so appears tacked on at the end.

Since its invention, it's gone through multiple iterations and languages, and there are combinations for punctuation (some common ones formed by shifting down the original 10 combinations), numbers, accented letters, maths symbols, and more. There is also agreed-upon shorthand where a letter may mean a common word eg l for like, and there are contractions where a symbol may mean a sound or set of letters like 'ch'.

The sketch shows the Latin alphabet for modern English braille.

Braille

Is it advise or advice? Devise or device? And if you're using British English, license or licence, practise or practice?

Handily, the general practice is to use an 's' for the verb, and a 'c' for the noun. So advise is something you do, and advice is something you give.

In American English, there is only license and practice for both verbs and nouns. However, in British English, you would you use license if you were licensing someone and what they received would be a licence — with a 'c'. And in British English, you would practise when you went to practice.

Some places suggest thinking of the '-ice' at the end as ice which is a noun. Whatever works for you.

License/licence and practise/practice are homophones

Also see, stationary and stationery, compliment and complement, affect and effect

Advise vs advice and other s and c's

A pleonasm is the use of redundant words, often in established phrases or idioms.

I tried to write something, but it's hard to beat this excellent excerpt by the comedian George Carlin from When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops — spot the pleonasms:

"My fellow countrymen, I speak to you as coequals, knowing you are deserving of the honest truth. And let me warn you in advance, my subject matter concerns a serious crisis caused by an event in my past history...At that particular point in time, I found myself in a deep depression, making mental errors which seemed as though they might threaten my future plans. I am not over-exaggerating.

I needed a new beginning, so I decided to pay a social visit to a personal friend with whom I share the same mutual objectives and who is one of the most unique individuals I have ever personally met. The end result was an un­expected surprise. When I reiterated again to her the fact that I needed a fresh start, she said I was exactly right; and, as an added plus, she came up with a fi­nal solution that was absolutely perfect.

Based on her past experience, she felt we needed to join together in a com­mon bond for a combined total of twenty-four hours a day, in order to find some new initiatives. What a novel innovation! And, as an extra bonus, she presented me with the free gift of a tuna fish. Right away I noticed an immedi­ate positive improvement. And although my recovery is not totally complete, the sum total is I feel much better now knowing I am not uniquely alone.”

Pleonasm

The magic of a first draft is that the first draft is always perfect. It doesn't matter if it's rubbish, if it's messy, if it doesn't flow, if it lacks personality, or if it won't work. The job of a first draft is to be a draft and get the process started. So however it turns out, the first draft has done its job perfectly.

In the illustrated art collection by Dr Seuss you can see some of the first drafts and iterations of text and images that go to refine the seemingly effortless rhythm, rhyme and combination of text and images from his wacky illustrations.

Donald Schön, in his classic The Reflective Practitioner, goes further by sharing his analysis of design as a reflective conversation – observing each mark sketched on paper informs the next you make. You don't know how it will turn out until you put pen to paper. Seeing what comes out allows you to adapt and modify as you go in a back-and-forth of discovery and evaluation.

Don't worry about your first draft — it'll be perfect.

I read this for the first time in an article by Casey Fowler that's no longer live. Most likely, it originates from the novelist Jane Smiley:

"Every first draft is perfect because all the first draft has to do is exist. It's perfect in its existence. The only way it could be imperfect would be to NOT exist."

The first draft is always perfect

Happy talk: fluff and often self-congratulatory promotional talk usually intended to be friendly but generally just getting in the way of people trying to get a job done. On the web, and to be honest most places, happy talk must die.

Happy talk must die is a gem from Steve Krug's legendary book on usability Don't Make me Think. Here's an excerpt on happy talk.

Also in Don't make me think: Omit needless words

Happy talk must die

Whenever I find that I've accidentally written 'proceed' instead of 'carry on', 'affirmative' instead of 'yes', or 'convene' instead of 'meet' I try to remember Churchill's wise words:

"Short words are best and old words when short are the best of all."

Don't be like owl in Winnie the Pooh. Short, old words give power and clarity.

As an illustration of the remarkable power of Churchill's writing, I highly recommend the quick read of We Will All Go Down Fighting to the End, an eye-opening and stirring short collection of Winston Churchill's war speeches.

Short words are best

The Rhyme As Reason Effect suggests that we're more likely to consider something as accurate or truthful when it rhymes. In a lovely study that asked people to consider the accuracy of both rhyming and non-rhyming aphorisms, "Woes unite foes," or "What sobriety conceals, alcohol reveals," for example, were considered more accurate than "Woes unite enemies," or "What sobriety conceals, alcohol unmasks."

A classic example outside of old sayings is OJ Simpson's trial where the defense attorney memorably noted "If the gloves don't fit, you must acquit!"

You can read the study in the delightfully titled paper, Birds of a feather flock conjointly: Rhyme as Reason in Aphorisms (pdf), by Matthew McGlone and Jessica Tofighbakhsh.

In a related note I was always curious how "Beer before wine, you'll feel fine," tallied up with what I heard in the US: "Beer before liquor, never been sicker," or even "Grape or grain but never the twain." It turns out from a neat 2019 study that, whichever way round you rhyme them, they have no effect on your hangover despite how persuasive the Rhyme As Reason effect may be — even after a few beers.

The Rhyme As Reason Effect

When writing for the web every word counts. We scan pages, instructions, and emails, sometimes skipping reading completely. So it's key to make sure that every word is doing a job. Over the years I find there are words that I routinely trim from web copy to save space and keep focus while preserving intent. While context always matters and these can't be cut everywhere, here are a handy few that regularly get the cut from web copy:

Obviously, clearly, of course and the like — if it's obvious then don't write it, if it's not, then it's not relevant. If it's obvious to you and not to me then no need to make me feel stupid reading it

Note, please note, note that, notice — we're noting it by writing it so trim the noise by leaving out reminders for readers to note things. If you really want someone to notice you can use the extra space from removing it by making it bigger or bolder

That — can often be trimmed without changing the meaning of a sentence

Exact — very often makes no difference to a sentence

Famous — if it's famous then maybe I've heard of it. If I haven't, then perhaps it's not so famous

Current — if someone asks for my age or job then it's normal to assume they're not asking for what it used to be

Successfully — it's always nice to trim a long word that doesn't add a lot

Have — like 'that', it can often be removed without changing the meaning of a sentence

All, total — when I take these out I often find it's the default assumption anyway

Interestingly, surprisingly and the like — it may be interesting or surprising to you, but I think it's polite, and briefer, to let the reader decide if it's interesting or surprising for them

If you're writing for the web, try removing some and see if it still works.

Micro-editing redundant words

Sentences that have been written in a passive voice are generally less powerful than sentences that have been written in an active voice.

Active writing hits harder than passive writing.

It's easy for passive writing to slip in. Here's a handy technique to help spot passive writing in your sentences. Try adding "...by monkeys" to the end of the sentence. If it still makes sense then there's a good chance it's passive.

In the example in the sketch: "The bug will be fixed" you can tack on "...by monkeys" and all makes sense. It's passive. Passive writing is an easy way to distance ourselves, and our opinions from what we're writing. Active writing takes ownership, responsibility and connects with the reader. "We'll fix the bug. Sorry about that."

I love the "...by monkeys" example for spotting passive writing as it vividly shows how responsibility disappears.

This super example and technique is from Monzo's excellent tone of voice guidelines. Handy for writing copy on the web, for your brand, and for every day life.

You might like the excellent Hemingway app to spot other non-Hemingway slips in your writing. I ran this post through it and cut out a lot of fluff.

I also love the classic The Elements of Style by Strunk and White.

By monkeys

A handy journalist technique whereby you write in such a way that even a cursory glance at an article gives the key facts, and the further you read down you increase your knowledge with the next most important facts. As opposed to say, a chronological account of an event where the important stuff may be at the end. The BBC at least are great examples of this, for instance in a Premier League match write-up.

Given how people read on the web generally, it’s pretty good to keep in mind for anything you write on the web too.

Also see: the best writing is rewriting, front load names to cue attention

Inverted pyramid writing

A variation of Murphy’s law whereby if you happen to be criticizing someone else’s spelling or grammar you’ll have a mistake yourself. Or should that be criticising?

Muphry’s Law

There’s a surprising amount of wisdom in A. A. Milne’s classic stories of Winnie-the-Pooh. If you haven’t read them for a long time, you could do much worse than try them again. As one small example, I find there’s a lot of Owl Speak around as we get older, where we could all probably benefit from a dose of Pooh’s simplicity. Owl never uses a short, simple word when a long and complicated one would do. For example, in one revealing exchange, Owl explains:

“Well, the customary procedure in such cases is as follows.”

“What does Crustimoney Proseedcake mean?” said Pooh.

…”It means, the Thing to Do.” says Owl.

We learn more and more Owl Speak the more time we spend in school, only to have to work to remove it when we are older.

Both quotes are from The House at Pooh Corner. Or, if you prefer to have the wisdom called out, you could try The Tao of Pooh, by Benjamin Hoff.

How to speak plainly, by Pooh Bear

I find myself linking to this article about why your links should never say click here for links on the web that I thought I should just get it down for easy reference. The solution, generally, is to rewrite your sentence. For more about writing for the web, click here. Only joking, check out more tips about writing for the web.

Also see: Omit unnecessary words, use styling instead of colons, cognitive overhead and the best writing is rewriting. 

Rewrite to avoid click here

— and much nicer than using parentheses (). And —to go the full mile —why not use an en dash when you’re separating your page numbers 1–5 or months May–Sep next time?

Most writing tools and OSes have tricks to do these automatically for you.

Know your dashes: the hyphen, en dash and em dash

The best reference I found on quotations was the quotation section in Larry Trask’s Guide to Punctuation. Alongside clarifications [ ] and suspensions … it contains rules on fun things like quotes in quotes, when to capitalise, dealing with mistakes [sic], adding emphasis [emphasis added], and punctuation inside or outside. On this last point he suggests:

"You may follow your own preference in this matter, so long as you are consistent. If you opt for logical punctuation [putting the punctuation outside the quote], you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you are on the side of the angels, but you should also expect some grim opposition from the other side [that prefers punctuation on the inside]."
— Larry Trask

Quotiquette: The etiquette of quoting

For a long time, I’ve kept my ear (and eye) out for heteronyms: words that are written the same but said differently. Homonyms are easy to spot - things like chip (food, processor), or bark (dog, tree) - but heteronyms are sneaky and you don’t notice them as easily. Fiddly things like windy, present, read, or close.

It always strikes me they must make English a pain to learn - “what do you mean read can be said as red or reed??! How’m I supposed to know that??”

A few other common ones (try to spot both pronunciations, it’s a little like the old out-cube/in-cube Necker illusion): bow, does, dove, import, lead, project, refuse, sow, tear, minute…

Also known as a homograph (homo - same, graph - writing)

Hat tip to Richard Stevens for his nifty vintage-style heteronym list

Heteronym: spell it the same, say it differently

One of the best things we did when on a significant traveling trip was to make our journal as a mindmap. There are all sorts of reasons why we found it better and more enjoyable to do at the time and better and more enjoyable once returned. Get a better idea than this sketchplanation by flicking through our mindmap travel journal

Try a mindmap travel journal

And, ideally, only exclaim exclamations. Woah!

Only quote quotes

Though the words are linked through two simple connections. Books used to be big and heavy, so rather than travelling market stalls the first shops for books were in fact stationary - stationarius. And writing implements, paper and the like began to be sold at these stationary stores. Various sites will explain the history.

Stationary and Stationery

Two and a half words of wisdom from Steve Krug. Still worth reading Don’t Make Me Think.

Omit unnecessary words

These two are as easily mixed up as stationary and stationery.

Compliment and Complement

Learned from On Writing Well by William Zinsser. It has two pages worth the price of the book by themselves. They show the same pages that made it into the book with editing marks all over them. At a glance it made me understand the work and craft that goes into writing and that I can do it to.

The best writing is re-writing

When should use affect or effect in English? Affect is a verb — you affect someone or something. Effect is a noun. 

In this sketch, the person is affected (verb) by being pushed into the water with the effect (noun) being a large splash.

Sketchplanations tagged with writing