The challenge issued by Canada Writes was: “In 100 words or less, write a true story that involves someone in your life, and use that person’s name in your story. It could be a family member, a friend, a teacher, anyone—but the person must still be living.”
The chosen judge was JJ Lee, who writes about fashion and art in Vancouver. The winner was a story by Jennifer Goddard, as tight and gripping as a 100-word story could be. No quarrels there. But the runner-up, by Caro Rolando, was also terrific, as Lee agreed. Unfortunately he forgot the first rule of literary judging (never apologize, never explain!) and cited a reason for not picking her. Ignorance of grammar reared its ugly head—his reason was supremely dumb.
I need to quote the whole of Caro’s story to make my point. So here it is:
When we first made eye contact, I adjusted my oversized Oakland A’s cap and glared at you. You weren’t fazed. “Wanna play cards?” you asked, in Texan twang. From there, we were inseparable. You introduced me to cornrows, Coolio, and Roald Dahl. We created friend-finding quizzes for other kids on the train, with questions like, “Are you scared of thunderstorms?” You agreed to call me “Kat,” just ‘cuz I liked the name. On the fourth night, we wanted a sleepover. But we weren’t allowed. The following morning, you were gone. Where’d you go, Jessica Garrick? I still have your book.
A delightfully bittersweet and touching story of a brief but intense female friendship. Virtually unimprovable, I would say. But here’s what JJ Lee misguidedly said (I’ve boldfaced the bit that appalled me):
I have to give kudos to Caro. In her story, her use of name-dropping rings truest among the entries submitted to me. As a school-boy, when speaking about my classmates, I used their first and last names. Megan Riggs will always be Megan Riggs. Never just Megan. So I like that quality in Caro’s submission. Plus it also reveals a keen yearning. The name feels talismanic. I suspect early mid-life crisis blended with nostalgia in the story and I identify. I believe if Caro had found another way to construct one or two active sentences without the verb ‘to be’, she would have emerged the winner. Regardless, I found her story outstanding.
Remove a couple instances of the copula and make yourself a winner? What’s going on here? My guess: We are looking at another victim (perhaps indirectly) of Page 18.
Page 18 of Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style is where the section headed “Use the active voice” begins. It starts with an example of a passive deliberately designed to sound ridiculous, and then wanders off topic into talk about “forcible writing.” Rather than use a “perfunctory expression such as there is, or could be heard,” they say, you should improve things by “substituting a transitive in the active voice.”
They then give four examples of “bad” sentences with proposed “corrections.” The reader will naturally think that the ones on the left are passives and the ones on the right are active transitives, but astonishingly, this is not true in any of the four pairs (see “The Land of the Free and The Elements of Style” in English Today 102, Vol. 26, No. 2, June 2010, 34-44 [available here], P. 41). What is true, though, is that the “bad” example always contains a form of be, and the “correction” never does.
The legend has arisen, spread by thousands of writing teachers and TA’s and underpinned by Strunk and White’s blundering exposition, that with each use of copula forms (am, are, be, been, being, is, isn’t, was, wasn’t, were, weren’t) you lose points. With five strikes against her (two occurrences of were and two of weren’t, plus are in a quoted question), Caro was doomed.
This is so stupid. If Jennifer Goddard’s story wins over Caro Rolando’s, fine: The judge’s decision is final. But for the sake of sanity in writing instruction, stop trying to justify aesthetic judgments by reference to Strunk and White’s eccentric and syntactically incompetent stylistic advice.
[Sincere thanks to Fiona Hanington for referring me to the Canada Writes Web site.]

