I was never the type of Grammar Nazi to troll people’s Facebook pages and correct their illiterate status updates. I was, however, the type who would correct bad bathroom graffiti, or quietly snicker at someone’s umpteenth misuse of literally. So maybe I’m feeling the effects of that accumulated bad karma for being such a grammar bitch.
Why? Because one of my courses this semester in my Public Relations program is “Professional Writing”, and it’s turning my world upside down. Apparently, I was naive enough to think that my only real writing problem was not really knowing how to use a comma. Now this class has me convinced that I actually know fuck all.
If you ask me now to tell you what’s wrong with a sentence, I’m hesitant to go with my gut instinct. I feel like if a sentence sounds right to me, there must be something wrong with it, because what do I know?
I guess I’m just upset because I thought this class was going to teach me how to write more concisely, and instead it’s teaching me that I received the worst English education ever. At 27 years old, concepts like linking verbs and noun clauses probably shouldn’t be such a god damn surprise.
So the Grammar Nazi is dead, crushed by the weight of her own grammatical ignorance. From now on, I will worry less about people confusing your and you’re, and worry a little more about the fact that I can’t identify a fucking preposition without my textbook.