I’m writing this on Monday evening, December 2, 2019. This morning, I submitted my copy edited manuscript back to my publisher, having endured my annual pity party centered around the theme, “If you know so much, write your own damn book.” It’s the constant picking at the niggling details that make me crazy. Yeah, I get that “which” vs. “that” is a real thing, as is “farther” vs. “further”. And, as I discussed last time in my epistle about my comma conundrum, I’ve accepted that I’ll never get certain things right. But come on. “We can’t take this argument any further/farther.” They both make sense. Copy editors make me think too hard, that’s the problem. (See that friggin’ comma splice? Boy, did we hammer on comma splices at my last critique group meeting!) Even I–the passionate purveyor of the principle that there are no rules in writing–admit that there are rules to grammar, and I try very hard to stay out of the way of those who understand these things. But then there are the stylistic choices. Such as . . .
Source: I Hate Being Caught Being Wrong
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