A: The problem with “Where you at?” isn’t that it ends in a preposition. The problem is that it shouldn’t have a preposition at all. (What it ought to have is a verb!)

Constructions like “Where is my car at?” and “Where are my keys at?” are considered substandard usage because “where” makes the addition of “at” redundant. “Where” essentially means “at (or in) what place,” so adding another “at” is overkill. It’s roughly equivalent to saying, “In which pocket are they in?”

Q: “Can we look forward to a discussion of the singular they this week?”—Posted by s michael c on 5/5

A: I didn’t discuss this on the blog but I’m glad you brought it up. The singular they or them or their has been considered wrong for a couple of centuries, and it’s still a no-no. (Example: “If anybody uses a cell phone, tell them not to.”) But it’s become so common that only a few of us diehards notice anymore! That doesn’t make it right, though. They, them or their are not legitimate singular pronouns, according to nearly all usage and style guides. And I don’t like using “he or she” and “him or her,” either.

Here’s some historical perspective. Once upon a time, English speakers routinely used they to refer to indefinite pronouns that take singular verbs, like anyone, anybody, nobody, and someone. The Oxford English Dictionary has published references for this usage going back to the 16th century. But in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, grammarians began condemning the use of they as a singular pronoun on the grounds that it was illogical. Numerically speaking, they were right, but this left us with a great big hole in English where a gender-neutral, number-neutral pronoun ought to be.

That’s the way things stand now, despite all the history, leaving the careful writer with the problem of finding an acceptable alternative to the singular they.

Here’s one solution: In a long piece of writing, you might use “him” in some places and “her” in others when referring to a generic individual. Another solution is to write around the problem—don’t use the pronoun at all. Example: “Someone forgot to pay the bills” (instead of “their bills”). Or: “If anyone calls, say I’m out” (instead of “tell them I’m out”).

If you do use they, them, or their, then make the subject (or referent noun) plural instead of singular. A sentence like “Every parent dotes on their child” could instead be “All parents dote on their children.” Instead of “A person should mind their own business,” make it “People should mind their own business.” Be creative. Disregarding the plural nature of they isn’t the answer.

Q: “Would you please address the misuse/overuse of the word myself? It seems the use of the word has become more popular lately. One example I hear a lot is ‘Myself and my friends….’ This sounds so wrong to me, or am I incorrect? Another one is irregardless. Is that a real word?”—Posted by JaneM on 5/6

A: People use myself when they can’t decide between “I” and “me.” This isn’t just a cop-out; it’s bad English. The word myself is reserved for two uses: (1) To emphasize: “Let me do it myself.” (2) To refer to a subject already mentioned: “I can see myself in the mirror.” If you could just as well use “I” or “me,” then you shouldn’t resort to myself.

As for irregardless, it’s definitely out of bounds. It blends “regardless” with “irrespective,” and the result is a redundancy that has both a negative prefix and a negative suffix! As one reader (lala) so cleverly commented, it’s a one-word double negative! Is it real? Well, lots of people use irregardless and you’ll find it in dictionaries, so it’s real all right. But not everything in a dictionary is good English. Read the fine print: Both Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary (11th ed.) and The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language (4th ed.) call it “nonstandard.”

Q: “If President Bush (41) and President Bush (43) were walking down the street together, what would be the correct statement? ‘Here come the Presidents Bush … the Bush Presidents … the President Bushes’? Or, ‘Here comes President Bush and President Bush’? These questions must be answered before the next President is inaugurated.”—Posted by Witty Nickname on 5/6

A: Your first suggestion is right: “the Presidents Bush.” Similarly, Presidents John Adams and John Quincy Adams are often referred to jointly as “the Presidents Adams” or “both Presidents Adams.” When in doubt, think of Dostoyevsky (The Brothers Karamazov).

Q: “What’s the best contraction for ‘am not’? For example, how should one best end this sentence: ‘Since contractions are required, I’m forced to use one now, am I not?’”—Posted by John on 5/7

A. This is a very interesting question! The answer (aren’t I) takes us back to the history of the most fascinating contraction of them all: ain’t.

Today, ain’t is considered the poster child of poor English, but it wasn’t always so. It was probably first used around 1600, just when most of our English contractions—all perfectly legitimate, I might add—were being formed: don’t, can’t, isn’t, and many more. For centuries, ain’t was just one of the crowd. It was first seen in print in the late 1600s, spelled an’t, a’n’t, and eventually ain’t. (Some scholars believe the new spelling may have reflected the way the word was pronounced by certain speakers.)

Ain’t was originally a contraction of “am not” and “are not.” But by the early 1700s, it was also being used as a contraction for “is not.” And by the 1800s it was used for “have not” and “has not” too, replacing an earlier contraction, ha’n’t. Naturally, as ain’t took on more and more meanings it drifted further and further from its roots, and here’s where the grammarians and schoolmarms took notice. Contractions like can’t and don’t had clearly traceable parentage, but ain’t had so many possible parents that it seemed illegitimate. So 19th-century critics turned up their noses and declared ain’t a crime against good English.

That created a problem, of course—what to use in place of ain’t I as a contraction for “am I not.” The obsolete “amn’t I” was a tongue-twister (it survives today only in Scots and Irish English). As we all know by now, we ended up with aren’t I, which clearly makes no sense. How can we justify it if we don’t say “I aren’t”? And how did it come about, anyway?

As it happens, aren’t I didn’t exist until the early 20th century, when British novelists and dramatists started using it to reproduce the way upper-class speakers pronounced ain’t I. (In the mouth of an old Etonian, ain’t rhymed with “taunt” rather than “taint.”) Illogical it may be, but aren’t I caught on in both Britain and the United States. It may have come out of left field, but today it’s standard English while ain’t I definitely isn’t.

Too bad. I rather like ain’t, though I’m too cowardly to use it. If it hadn’t outgrown its old meanings of “am not” and “are not,” it might be acceptable today. And we’d have a sensible contraction for “am I not.”

Q: “The English/Irish refer to a team as a plural thing (‘England are playing great football this season’). I realize the English invented English but this drives me nuts! To me it is a non-issue. A team was, is, and always will be ONE team, no matter if there are 2 people or 2,000 people. A couple is always two but it is still just one couple. And certainly not to argue with you but I don’t like your example ‘A couple of tenants own geckos.’ I think the only reason it sounds acceptable is because the word tenants is plural. But you always have to ignore prepositional phrases. Anyway, just my two cents.”—Posted by Rob on 5/8

A: The British have a much broader attitude toward collective nouns than we do. To us, “team” is singular, but to them it’s a collective that they treat as a plural. In fact, things like soccer teams (“Manchester are leading”), companies (“Mobil plan to invest”), and government bodies (“the Cabinet have met”) are all treated as plural in Britain.

They use punctuation marks and articles (a, an, the) and all sorts of other things differently, too. But do NOT assume that British English is purer or more correct than American English. Many characteristics that we identify with modern-day British English—the different usages, spellings, vocabulary words, some points of grammar, even the British accent with its broad a’s and dropped r’s—developed after the Revolutionary War. Remember that the Colonists brought with them 17th- and 18th-century British English, much of which has been preserved on our side of the Atlantic (and much of which has been altered on theirs). So what’s considered correct in London is not necessarily correct in Philadelphia. A chapter in my next book will be devoted to this issue, which I discussed recently on my blog. Here’s a link.

As for the collective noun couple, I don’t agree that an attached prepositional phrase should be ignored when you’re deciding whether the word is singular or plural. Certainly it’s singular here: “The couple next-door vacations in Hawaii.” But just as certainly it’s plural here: “A couple of my friends vacation in Hawaii.” And couple is plural here even without a prepositional phrase, because it’s assumed: “Where do your friends vacation?” … “A couple [of them] vacation in Hawaii, and a couple more prefer ski resorts.”

Q: “I feel like I remember having read in my old college Chicago Manual of Style that there are a select few proper names for which the possessive is ’ and not ’s. I think one was Jesus (as in ‘He followed Jesus’ teachings,’ not ‘He followed Jesus’s teachings’). I think it was the same for Moses and Sophocles … am I making this up?”—Posted by lala on 5/8

A: You remember correctly! The usual practice in making names possessive is to add an apostrophe plus s. But there’s an exception. When a Biblical or classical name ends in s, the custom is to add just the apostrophe: Jesus’ disciples, Hercules’ strength, Xerxes’ writings, Archimedes’ principle.

We also drop the s and use only the apostrophe in certain idiomatic expressions with the word “sake” (this avoids a pileup of sibilants). Examples: “for goodness’ sake,” “for conscience’ sake,” “for righteousness’ sake,” “for convenience’ sake.”

Q: “OK, so this has always really bugged me: is it the 1970s or the 1970’s? For example, ‘I was born in the 1970s.’ Or, ‘I was born in the 1970’s.’ I was always under the impression the apostrophe was erroneous, but I guess I might be wrong!”—Posted by Beth on 5/8

A: It’s true that you never add an apostrophe to make an ordinary noun plural. But the plurals of numbers are another matter, a style issue that publishers have differed on over the years. In the first two editions of my book Woe Is I, my recommendation was to add an apostrophe plus s to make a number plural: 3’s, for example, and 1970’s. This was the style then recommended by the New York Times. Since then, both I and the Times have changed our opinions.

I now advise using only the s, with no apostrophe: 3s and 1970s. The third edition of my book Woe Is I (due out next year) and the children’s edition, Woe Is I Jr. (published in 2007), reflect this change. I still recommend using the apostrophe to pluralize a single letter for the sake of readability. Without it, a sentence like this is gibberish: “My name is full of as, is, and us.” Translation: “My name is full of a’s, i’s, and u’s.”

Yesterday: Five Lessons in Punctuation. Wednesday: Five Lessons in Grammar. Tuesday: Debunking Etymological Myths. Monday: Debunking Grammar Myths.

For sheer readability, few things make as much difference as proper punctuation. These examples from You Send Me, a book I wrote with my husband, show how much difference punctuation can make:

“Who got fired, Stacey?” said the director.

Who got fired? Stacey, said the director.

Who got fired? Stacey said the director.

See what I mean? Now I can’t tell you in a few paragraphs all you need to know about punctuation. But I can hit the high spots, the problems that come up most often.

1. The Indispensable Comma

The word “comma” comes from a Greek word meaning “to cut off,” and that’s what commas do. They cut sentences into pieces, organizing words into meaningful groups. Sometimes, the organization can make a big difference! Check out these sentences: (1) Jack said Harry wrecked the car. (2) Jack, said Harry, wrecked the car.

Here’s some comma-sense advice:

• Use commas and a connecting word (like and or but) to separate clauses—groups of words with both a subject and a verb. John had forgotten her birthday five times in a row, but Gloria thought this year would be different.

• Use commas between items in a list: Gloria was hoping for dinner, dancing, and flowers. She was furious that John hadn’t made a dinner reservation, called the florist, or even bought a card.

• Use commas before or after a quotation: Gloria said, “I might have known.” “I’ll make it up to you,” John promised. But don’t use a comma after a quotation that’s a question or exclamation: “Why not kiss and make up?” John asked.

• Use commas before or after the name of someone you’re addressing: “Gloria, you’re over-reacting,” he said. “Maybe you’re right, John,” she answered.

• Use a comma after an introductory remark if you want to emphasize the pause: Fortunately, the argument was soon over. Before long, they were cuddling on the couch.

• Use commas around an aside, as you might use dashes or parentheses: He dialed Chez Panisse, their favorite restaurant, and managed to wangle a reservation.

• Use commas around a clause that interrupts a sentence to insert a thought. These interruptions often begin with which, where, who, or when: They arrived at Chez Panisse, which was half an hour away, at ten. The waiter, who knew John and Gloria, joined them in a toast. (But don’t use a comma if there’s no interruption: John knew which wine was which. Gloria knew when she was ahead.)

2. The Underused Semicolon

The semicolon may be the most unappreciated and underused punctuation mark. If you find semicolons intimidating, relax. They’re great for tidying up a series of items with commas inside them. Imagine how hard it would be to read this sentence if only commas were used: Jack willed his house to Jill, his best friend; his collection of lederhosen to his neighbors, Hans and Franz; and his dog, Tige, to a friend, Buster.

Semicolons are also handy for joining chunks of a sentence that could stand alone. A comma by itself isn’t enough to hold together clauses like these: Jack broke his crown, Jill wasn’t seriously injured. (This is sometimes called a run-on sentence.) Unless you want to add a connecting word, use a semicolon: Jack broke his crown; Jill wasn’t seriously injured.

3. Chatty Quotation Marks

The trick with quotation marks is at the end of the quote. Does punctuation that follows the quoted material (period, comma, question mark, or whatever) go inside or outside the closing quotation marks? Here are the ins and the outs.

• Periods go inside. “I think I’m getting the flu.”
• Commas go inside. “I probably caught it at work,” he added.
• Colons go outside. Elizabeth didn’t like being called “Liz”: it was so predictable.
• Semicolons go outside. Don’t play “My Funny Valentine”; she hates it.
• Question marks and exclamation points are sometimes inside and sometimes outside. In most cases, they go inside the quotation marks: “What’s your name, sweetie?” said the cashier. “It’s not sweetie!” shouted the child. But question marks and exclamation points must go outside if they’re not part of the actual quotation. Have you seen the film version of Gray’s “Elegy”? Good heavens, I didn’t even know they’d filmed Gray’s “Elegy”!

• Parentheses go outside quotation marks if the entire quote is parenthetical: Mom had the deciding vote (“I said no”). Parentheses go inside the quotation marks if only part of the quote is parenthetical. She added, “Next time, ask me first (if there is a next time).”

4. The Much-Abused Apostrophe

As someone with an apostrophe in her name, I hate to see this punctuation mark mistreated. Here’s how it ought to be used.

• Possessives. Apostrophes help show who owns what. To make a noun possessive, add either an apostrophe with the letter s (’s ) or just the apostrophe alone, depending on the circumstances. The rules come in threes:

1. Add ’s to a singular word or name, regardless of its ending. (Yes, even if it ends in s or x or z—whether sounded or silent.) Ms. Jones’s favorite pastime is reading Camus’s essays and collecting Degas’s etchings. Her dog’s name is Rex, and Rex’s meals come from Paris’s finest restaurants. Her dress’s fabric is bamboo and her husband’s shirts are Egyptian cotton. “It was Jacques’s idea to live in France,” she said, “after we declared bankruptcy in the States.”

2. Add ’s to a plural word that doesn’t end in s. The children’s shoes cost almost as much as the men’s and the women’s. My feet’s bunions are killing me.

3. Add just the apostrophe to a plural word or name that ends in s. The Joneses’ and the Smiths’ and the Gonzalezes’ houses were vandalized, and their cars’ tires were slashed as well. The houses’ windows were broken too. NOTE: When you need a comma or a period after a possessive word that ends with an apostrophe, the comma or period goes after the apostrophe and not in front of it: The idea was the girls’, or maybe the boys’, but at any rate the responsibility was their parents’.

• Contractions. An apostrophe shows where letters have been dropped in a shortened word or phrase. For example, shouldn’t is short for “should not”; the apostrophe replaces the o in “not.” And I’ll is short for “I will”; the apostrophe is a polite nod to the dropped letters. You can’t say I didn’t warn you.

• Some unusual plurals. No, you DON’T add ’s to a word or a name to make it plural! You can, however, add ’s to form the plural of an individual letter. This makes for easier reading, and many stylebooks recommend it. At Swarthmore, Libbi got B’s and C’s and started spelling her name with two i’s.

5. The Helpful Hyphen

Look what a difference a hyphen can make: The stolen sofa was recovered. Or, The stolen sofa was re-covered. Don’t underestimate this handy punctuation mark. If in doubt about using a hyphen with a prefix, look it up.

When two words are combined to describe a noun, we sometimes use a hyphen between them. Generally if the compound follows the noun, it doesn’t get a hyphen: That duck is water resistant. But if the compound comes before the noun, it usually gets a hyphen: That’s a water-resistant duck. (And don’t ask why a duck.)

Yesterday: Five Lessons in Grammar. Tuesday: Debunking Etymological Myths. Monday: Debunking Grammar Myths. Coming tomorrow: Pat will be answering your grammar questions. You can ask said questions in the comments.

1. I or Me?

The most common grammatical mistake in English is probably using I when we should use me. We hear this mistake all the time: “Thanks for inviting Bob and I to your anniversary bash.” Or, “This was such a treat for the children and I.” Or, “To your mother and I, your happiness means everything.” Nice thoughts, but the right pronoun is me, me, me!

Luckily, there’s an easy way to help decide whether to use I or me. Just mentally eliminate the other guy and the correct word becomes obvious: “Thanks for inviting […] me to your anniversary bash.” Or, “This was such a treat for […] me.” Or, “To […] me, your happiness means everything.”

And by the way, when you can’t decide between I and me, the answer is not to resort to myself! That’s not only a cop-out but also wrong. Words like myself (they’re called reflexive pronouns) are used for only two things: to emphasize something (“I did it myself”), and to refer to a person already mentioned (“I saw myself in the mirror”).

2. Who or Whom?

It’s a good thing to remember that who does something (it’s a subject, like he), while whom has something done to it (it’s an object, like him). You might even try moving the words around mentally and putting he or him where who or whom should go: if him fits, you want whom (both end in m); if he fits, you want who (both end in a vowel).

Example: “Who [or He] threw the first punch at whom [or him]?” asked the judge.

See? Who does it to whom. But don’t be fooled by prepositions—words that direct other words, like to, at, by, for, from, in, on, toward, with, and so on). A preposition isn’t automatically followed by whom. It can be followed by a clause (a group of words with both a subject and a verb) that has who as its subject.

Consider this sentence: Hermione gives help to [whoever or whomever] needs advice. Don’t be misled by the preposition to. It’s followed by a clause: whoever or whomever needs advice. Since the mystery word does something (needs advice), it’s a subject, so the answer is whoever needs advice.

OK, now that you know the rules, here’s how to bend them. On more relaxed occasions, you can sometimes get away with using who where whom is technically correct. Who is often less stuffy-sounding at the beginning of a sentence or a clause. Examples: Who’s the email from? Did I tell you who I saw? Who are you waiting for? No matter who you invite, I can’t come. Good English would call for whom in those cases, but you can use who in casual conversation or informal writing.

But beware: Who sounds grating if used for whom right after a preposition. You can get around this by putting who in front: From whom? becomes Who from?

3. That or Which?

See if you can guess the answer: Nobody likes a kid [that or which] whines. I’ll end the suspense: it’s that.

If you want to satisfy Miss Grundy, here’s how to figure out whether a clause (a group of words with its own subject and verb) should start with that or which. When the clause (that or which whines) isn’t essential to the point of the sentence, choose which. But if the clause is essential, choose that. In this case, if we dropped the clause we’d end up with Nobody likes a kid. Not quite the point, is it?

Another handy rule to remember is that a which clause is separated from the rest of the sentence by commas: Someone tripped over the kid’s stroller, which was in the aisle. Or: The kid’s stroller, which was in the aisle, was a safety hazard. So if a clause makes you pause, it probably calls for which.

By the way, some of you may think the word that can’t refer to a person, only who. Wrong. This is another popular myth. If you need convincing, take a look at this entry in my blog.

4. “If I was” or “If I were”?

When you express a wish, or when you use an “if” statement to talk about a something that’s not true, use “were” instead of “was.” Why? Because those situations call for what grammarians refer to as the subjunctive mood, and not the usual indicative.

For example, you’d say, “Last week I was on vacation” [indicative], but “This week I wish I were on vacation” [subjunctive], and “If I were on vacation [subjunctive] I wouldn’t be here at work.”

Note, however, that not every “if” statement calls for the subjunctive, only those that are undeniably contrary to fact. In cases where the statement may actually be true, was remains was. Examples: If I was wrong, I apologize. (I may have been wrong.) If she was there, I guess I missed her. (She may have been there.) If it was Tuesday, I must have been at the gym. (It may have been Tuesday.)

5. Collective Nouns: Singular or Plural?

Should we say, “couple is” or “couple are”? “Majority was” or “majority were”? “Number is” or “number are”? The answer: It all depends.

Many words that mean a collection of things—like couple, group, total, number, majority—can be either singular or plural, depending on whether you mean the group as a whole or the individuals in the group. So ask yourself whether you’re talking about the whole or the parts. Sometimes this can be a close judgment call.

Let’s look at couple first. Here are two examples from my grammar book Woe Is I: “A couple of tenants own geckos. The couple in 5G owns a family of mongooses.” Both sentences are acceptable, one plural and the other singular. In the first one, you’re talking about two separate tenants who own geckos. In the second, you mean one couple that owns mongooses.

Here’s a hint: Think of the expression “The majority rules.” It should remind you that if the word in front of a collective noun is the, then the noun is usually singular. If the word in front is a, especially when the noun is followed by of, then it’s usually plural. So you’d say, “A majority of the residents were polled” (plural), but “The majority was significant” (singular). And you’d write, “A group of Dutch investors are building 25 homes” (plural), but “The Dutch investment group is building 25 homes” (singular).

Yesterday: Debunking Etymological Myths. Monday: Debunking Grammar Myths. Coming tomorrow: Five Lessons in Punctuation. And on Friday, Pat will be answering your grammar questions. You can ask said questions in the comments.

When I think about the rules of grammar I sometimes recall the story—and it’s a true one—about a lecture given in the 1950s by an eminent British philosopher of language. He remarked that in some languages two negatives make a positive, but in no language do two positives make a negative. A voice from the back of the room piped up, “Yeah, yeah.”

Don’t we all sometimes feel like that voice from the back of the room? When some grammatical purist insists, for example, that the subject has to go before the verb, aren’t we tempted to reply, “Sez you!”?

English is not so much a human invention as it is a force of nature, one that endures and flourishes despite our best attempts to ruin it. And believe it or not, the real principles of English grammar—the ones that promote clarity and sense—weren’t invented by despots but have emerged from the nature of the language itself. And they actually make sense!

So when you think about the rules of grammar, try to think like that guy in the back of the room, and never be afraid to challenge what seems silly or useless. Because what seems silly or useless probably isn’t a real rule at all. It’s probably a misconception that grammarians have tried for years to correct. There are dozens of ersatz “rules” of English grammar. Let’s start with Public Enemy Number 1.

Myth #1: Don’t Split an Infinitive.

“Split” all you want, because this old superstition has never been legit. Writers of English have been doing it since the 1300s.

Where did the notion come from? We can blame Henry Alford, a 19th-century Latinist and Dean of Canterbury, for trying to criminalize the split infinitive. (Latin, by the way, is a recurring theme in the mythology of English grammar.) In 1864, Alford published a very popular grammar book, A Plea for the Queen’s English, in which he declared that to was part of the infinitive and that the parts were inseparable. (False on both counts.) He was probably influenced by the fact that the infinitive, the simplest form of a verb, is one word in Latin and thus can’t be split. So, for example, you shouldn’t put an adverb, like boldly, in the middle of the infinitive phrase to go—as in to boldly go. (Tell that to Gene Roddenberry!)

Grammarians began challenging Alford almost immediately. By the early 20th century, the most respected authorities on English (the linguist Otto Jespersen, the lexicographer Henry Fowler, the grammarian George O. Curme, and others) were vigorously debunking the split-infinitive myth, and explaining that “splitting” is not only acceptable but often preferable. Besides, you can’t really split an infinitive, since to is just a prepositional marker and not part of the infinitive itself. In fact, sometimes it’s not needed at all. In sentences like “She helped him to write,” or “Jack helped me to move,” the to could easily be dropped.

But against all reason, this notorious myth of English grammar lives on—in the public imagination if nowhere else.

This wasn’t the first time that the forces of Latinism had tried to graft Latin models of sentence structure onto English, a Germanic language. Read on.

Myth #2: Don’t End a Sentence With a Preposition.

An 18th-century Anglican bishop named Robert Lowth wrote the first popular grammar book to claim that a preposition didn’t belong at the end of a sentence (as in, What was this guy up to?). Others before him had made the same claim, notably the poet John Dryden.

This affectation, like the one about not “splitting” infinitives, proved popular with Latin-educated schoolmasters, probably because Latin sentences don’t end in prepositions. But the pedants were forgetting one small detail: English isn’t a Latinate language, it’s Germanic. And in Germanic languages, sentences routinely end in prepositions. Great English literature from Chaucer to Milton to Shakespeare to the King James version of the Bible is stuffed with these “terminal prepositions.”

Probably the word “preposition,” from the Latin for “position before,” suggested to pedagogues that a preposition must never come last. Be that as it may, Curme and Jespersen recognized the final preposition as natural and instinctive, and Fowler went further: “The legitimacy of the prepositional ending in literary English must be uncompromisingly maintained,” he wrote. Amen!

Myth #3: And Don’t Start a Sentence with a Conjunction.

We’ve all heard this one too, right? Does it make sense? No. And here’s why.

Conjunctions like and and but and or have been used to start English sentences since as far back as the 10th century. This feels natural because it is natural.

Over the years, some English teachers have enforced the notion that conjunctions should be used only to join elements within a sentence, not to join one sentence with another. But there’s never been any evidence for this belief. Modern grammarians have insisted for years that conjunctions are properly used to join words, phrases, clauses or sentences.

And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Myth #4: None Is Always Singular.

This is nonesense. Though none can be singular, it’s much more likely to be plural, as Fowler and many others have pointed out. Why? Because we commonly use it to make a negative statement about all of the members of a class.

See which one sounds more reasonable to you: “None of the dogs bites” (singular), or “None of the dogs bite” (plural). See what I mean? Anyone who prefers the first sentence was probably taught (mistakenly) that none is derived etymologically from “not one” and always means “not one.” But authorities including the Oxford English Dictionary trace the origins of none to the Old English word nan (or nane), a pronoun that meant “not any of a number of things” and was commonly plural. It also appears in some Old English texts to mean “no people,” with the singular form expressed as “no one.”

Consequently, in most cases none is plural and takes a plural verb, as in “None of the windows are broken.”

None is singular only when it means “none of it”—that is, “no amount.” (“None of the glass is cracked.”) If you really do mean “not one,” it’s better to say “not one.”

Myth #5: Whose Can Only Refer to People.

One last hobgoblin. A great many educated people insist that we shouldn’t use the word whose to refer to an inanimate object. True believers would never say, “Don’t buy a car whose engine is shot.” They’d insist on “Don’t buy a car the engine of which is shot.” Please. This is not only a silly rule—it’s a damned awkward one.

This prohibition is a bigger lemon than the car. If you don’t believe it, check Fowler. The inanimate “whose,” he said, has history, common sense and convenience on its side. And the Oxford English Dictionary says that whose has been used for centuries as the genitive (or possessive) form of what as well as who.

The lesson here? The sillier rules of English grammar aren’t genuine rules at all, just misconceptions. When in doubt, go ahead and doubt! A little research may show that while English is a peculiar language, it’s not as peculiar as all that. If you’d like to know more about grammar myths, take a look at this page from my website.