I'm addicted to...

[CandlestickJay]

Gerunds.

Or at least that's what my wonderful favorite in the whole wide world beta reader says. I'll admit, I love to use them. Or perhaps I'm just to the point where I use them in my writing without even thinking about it.

So here's my question.

Gerunds, yes?

Gerunds, no?

Or somewhere in the middle?

Can a good novel be written using many of them, or are they an absolute -changeittosomethingelse- no no?

Now do me a favor and rate these in a good cop bad cop kind of way. Which ones are the lesser evil, if you will?

1. "..." Sophia said, wondering what on earth her mother could mean.

2. She turned, slamming her fist into the side of the vase and praying she broke the glass.

3. Frying on the oven was a pork chop, and with any luck she had also stabbed it with glass too.

Thanks in advance!

EDIT - I am fully aware my sentences don't make sense. Thanks

[Danger Jane]

The first two examples are participles, I think, and the last is a plain old verb. It can be rephrased as "A pork chop was frying..."

There's nothing inherently wrong with participles. But it's important to evaluate your use of them--is Sophia really slamming, praying, and turning all at the same time?? Probably not. Your example with "wondering" could perhaps be made evident through the dialogue itself, or through body language. Participles after dialogue tags get tiring after a while. I honestly don't think I have a single sentence constructed in that way in either of my two WIPs.

[girlyswot]

It's only a gerund if you're using it as a noun.

Participles are fine. But, like any matter of style, variety is the key to an interesting read.

[job]

You need to find a different beta for looking at your grammar, if she has said those are gerunds.
You might drop by the OWL for a quick review. here (http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/627/01/)

Simplifying like mad here ... Participles are the 'ing' form of the verb, used as adjectives. Often they introduce a phrase.


Sighing, Lloyd pointed the gun. (participle)
Running madly, Myra took the lead. (participle with adverb)
Brushing her hair, Janice stared out the window. (participial phrase)

Participles can occur anywhere in the sentence:

Horvoth, putting villages to the torch, often lit a cigarette as well.
Jennifer, pouting, demonstrated a certain reserve.
The mime portrayed a Girl Scout, building a fire.
The burning bush was not consumed.
The snake slithering through the grass was not the one who bit me.



Partiples come equipped with three standard pitfalls

-- they're words of choice for certain grammar abusers.

Abuse often occurs where participles are plopped at the front of sentences as participial phrases. Writers put participles in this position because they want to 'vary their sentence structure'. Like a new cook let loose with fresh basil, they overseason.

To find out whether your prose is 'overseasoned' with leading participial phrases, pull up three pages (750 words) at random.
Highlight your leading participles.
If you have more than four or five in 750 words ... you may have a participial phrase abuse problem. If you have ten, you're an addict. Seek help.


-- They imply simultaneous action.

This is one of the issues where prescriptive grammarians and the more liberal linguists put on the gloves and entertain the populace, slugging it out.*


One side: the action of a participial phrase must logically occur at the same time as the predicate.
The other side: everyday usage traditionally allows the actions to occur in sequence, rather than at the same time.


Here's examples of some dicey uses of a leading participial phrase:

Walking into the apartment, Jane dropped her coat on the counter in the kitchen and poured herself a stiff shot of whiskey.

Swimming the last lap with all his might, Ken crossed the finish line first.

Drinking Hortense's blood, the vampire looked up in dismay.

Prescriptive grammarians would point out that Ken cannot be simultaneously swimming the last lap and crossing the finish line.
Linguists would reply, 'Pooh.' and 'So's your old man.' and 'That's how people talk.'

A careful writer will probably avoid the more egregious examples of false simultaneity.


-- Participles need to be firmly wedded to their noun or pronoun. They are not happy when they are not parasitically attached to it.


Winning at bridge, the night passed pleasantly for the Brown family.
Jane's greatest ambition was realized in a school of deaf mutes, teaching jazz dance.
Hungrily seeking prey, gazelles were the favorites of this pack of jackals.

These are called dangling participles. Sad, aren't they?



* That's not a participial phrase, btw. It's a prepositional phrase using a gerund as the object and an implied 'by'.

[ResearchGuy]

. . .
Now do me a favor and rate these in a good cop bad cop kind of way. Which ones are the lesser evil, if you will?

1. ". . ." Sophia said, wondering what on earth her mother could mean.

2. She turned, slamming her fist into the side of the vase and praying she broke the glass.

3. Frying on the oven was a pork chop, and with any luck she had also stabbed it with glass too.

. . .
1. Maybe ok.

2. The second needs work -- the sentence should be reworked entirely, I think.

3. Very awkward.

In general, I think the form would quickly become tiresome and intrusive if used much.

My opinions, FWIW.

--Ken

[FennelGiraffe]

It's only a gerund if you're using it as a noun.
Just to make it clear--a few examples that are gerunds.

As the subject of a sentence:Frying is an unhealthy way to cook.
As the direct object:George hated wondering about that.
As the object of a preposition:Mother grounded Sarah for slamming the door.

[CandlestickJay]

I should probably note that none of these are from my current WIP. I made them up.

Thank you for all of the responses, I definitely appreciate it.

And to job -

You need to find a different beta for looking at your grammar, if she has said those are gerunds.
You might drop by the OWL for a quick review. here (http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/627/01/)

Simplifying like mad here ... Participles are the 'ing' form of the verb, used as adjectives. Often they introduce a phrase.


Sighing, Lloyd pointed the gun. (participle)
Running madly, Myra took the lead. (participle with adverb)
Brushing her hair, Janice stared out the window. (participial phrase)

Participles can occur anywhere in the sentence:

Horvoth, putting villages to the torch, often lit a cigarette as well.
Jennifer, pouting, demonstrated a certain reserve.
The mime portrayed a Girl Scout, building a fire.
The burning bush was not consumed.
The snake slithering through the grass was not the one who bit me.



Partiples come equipped with three standard pitfalls

-- they're words of choice for certain grammar abusers.

Abuse often occurs where participles are plopped at the front of sentences as participial phrases. Writers put participles in this position because they want to 'vary their sentence structure'. Like a new cook let loose with fresh basil, they overseason.

To find out whether your prose is 'overseasoned' with leading participial phrases, pull up three pages (750 words) at random.
Highlight your leading participles.
If you have more than four or five in 750 words ... you may have a participial phrase abuse problem. If you have ten, you're an addict. Seek help.


-- They imply simultaneous action.

This is one of the issues where prescriptive grammarians and the more liberal linguists put on the gloves and entertain the populace, slugging it out.*


One side: the action of a participial phrase must logically occur at the same time as the predicate.
The other side: everyday usage traditionally allows the actions to occur in sequence, rather than at the same time.


Here's examples of some dicey uses of a leading participial phrase:

Walking into the apartment, Jane dropped her coat on the counter in the kitchen and poured herself a stiff shot of whiskey.

Swimming the last lap with all his might, Ken crossed the finish line first.

Drinking Hortense's blood, the vampire looked up in dismay.

Prescriptive grammarians would point out that Ken cannot be simultaneously swimming the last lap and crossing the finish line.
Linguists would reply, 'Pooh.' and 'So's your old man.' and 'That's how people talk.'

A careful writer will probably avoid the more egregious examples of false simultaneity.


-- Participles need to be firmly wedded to their noun or pronoun. They are not happy when they are not parasitically attached to it.


Winning at bridge, the night passed pleasantly for the Brown family.
Jane's greatest ambition was realized in a school of deaf mutes, teaching jazz dance.
Hungrily seeking prey, gazelles were the favorites of this pack of jackals.

These are called dangling participles. Sad, aren't they?



* That's not a participial phrase, btw. It's a prepositional phrase using a gerund as the object and an implied 'by'.

I think I love you.

I also think that I just learned (and for the most part) understood more in the span of one post than I learned in the entirety of my english class. So thank you.

Woot, woot.

[Maryn]

Plus, AW is way more fun than any English class I ever took!

Maryn, who laughs here frequently

[Unique]

false simultaneity.

1st question: Is it false?

your friend -

[job]

1st question: Is it false?

Sometimes true, sometimes false, and sometimes just messin' with yer head.