In today’s new article I’m taking a look at the difference between ‘all right’ and ‘alright’, something which has come up a few times for me in my editing work and a point I’ve considered probably more than I should have in my own writing. It’s possible (and somewhat demonstratively correct) to reject ‘alright’ as incorrect outright, but I personally hold this instead as a good example of how and why the English language changes over time.

First, though, a quick definition: ‘all right’ as a phrase essentially means fine, okay, in good order, and can be used as an adjective, adverb or general interjection/intensifier. It’s taken on a rather nuanced nature, making it quite flexible – and it’s one of those expressions that can, depending on our context and understanding of the speaker, have an opposite application (like ‘fine’; with the right intonation it could mean ‘excellent’ or ‘disappointing’!).

Most likely because it’s acquired such a colloquial usage, however, the words have been compounded and a new spelling has emerged. 

Is it ‘all right’ or ‘alright’?

The simple answer to this question, to ensure you’re always correct, would be to always write ‘all right’. Dictionaries generally still have this phrase listed primarily as ‘all right’, and do not necessarily include ‘alright’ at all, and you will never be wrong to write it this way.

However, ‘alright’ has emerged as a variant spelling that encompasses the phrasal use of this expression in one word, and I would say it’s correct/acceptable to use ‘alright’ as long it’s being used for this meaning, i.e. as fine, okay etc.

I actually use ‘alright’ myself to convey this colloquial phrasing, as opposed to ‘all right’, spelt out, so to differentiate between the colloquial/descriptive use and a structure that more specifically refers to grouped nouns with a quality of ‘rightness’ – i.e. when we wish to say ‘everything in this group is correct’ (or alternatively, rightward leaning/directional). Having two separate spellings used consistently here can actually aid clarity, for example in an interpretation of these sentences:

• The students were all right. (They each had the correct answers/understanding.)
• The students were alright. (They were okay.)

Mostly, such sentences should be clear depending on the context anyway, but in the rare circumstances when these separate definitions might make the difference, I think it’s a difference worth having.

However, note that in the above examples, ‘alright’ would actually be incorrect in the meaning of the first sentence, whereas ‘all right’ could work for either, so, as I’ve said above, if want to be safe, you can only use ‘all right’ and it will always be correct.

This is a great example of language adapting, though, and popular usage giving us an alternative; a little tweak that is widely accepted can gradually help demonstrate the difference between a technical structure and a colloquial phrase.

It’s interesting to me because it seems obvious and natural to use ‘alright’ in this way, but actually it’s quite a modern style. Google’s Ngram viewer demonstrates usage of ‘alright’ having only gradually been adopted in the past two decades. So, it’s something that has emerged within my lifetime. If you look at that graph, though, it’s undeniably going up, and ‘alright’ is now in use almost half as much as ‘all right’, which is relatively in decline.

The bottom line here for me is that if someone wants to use ‘alright’, there’s no reason they shouldn’t, as long as it is applied for this specific meaning. Likewise, anyone would be free to always use ‘all right’. It would be really incorrect, though, to suggest that you must use one or the other, as we can plainly see that people are already using both alternatives, and while the dictionary might still favour ‘all right’, the English-speaking world is slowly adopting ‘alright’ too.

As I mentioned in my last article on the difference between objective and subjective, I’d like to share some thoughts on when language rules should be strictly followed and when they may be flexible. This is essentially the difference between objective (provably true) rules and subjective (personally preferred) techniques.

In short, there are some areas of English that should be observed closely, to ensure the best understanding, but others may be varied, to fit different purposes or show specific personality.

Questions of Style

A good part of this issue is covered by the matter of style in English; that is all those areas of writing that may be flexibly decided. I’ve already got an article about this taken from my Advanced Writing Skills book, so please read that here.

In summary, style is the term we use for decisions made on variations in language. This can include the way we use punctuation, spelling, or the presentation of writing. Style covers regional variations, capitalisation, the way we write times, and much more. By establishing style rules, we decide a consistent pattern of English for specific written documents. This isn’t to say these decisions are objectively correct overall, but they should be consistent within that piece of writing.

For example, in a piece of fiction if we decide to show dialogue with double quotation marks, it would then be incorrect, within that document, to use single quotation marks. Why is this important? Because if we establish a consistent pattern, deviations from it suggest a different function.

However, forming decisions over style are clearer in writing, where it may be done as a formal process by writers and editors. In everyday English, such decisions aren’t necessarily made consciously, so we find even more variety. Style also tends to account for things that won’t necessarily affect understanding: it’s more about the pattern and display of English.

It may sometimes consider grammatical quirks, but not to the degree that we encounter them in spoken English.

Language Rules or Language Patterns?

In everyday English, our variations of language are established through learning in schools, through dictionaries, via teachers and (perhaps most of all!) through communication with peers. Attempts are made to cement the rules of language, but there will always be exceptions in practice, because everyone adapts the way they communicate.

This is because, quite simply, different people express themselves differently – and that’s a good thing. To go a bit deeper, though, it’s also a case of different people using the same tools for different jobs, and interpreting their uses differently.

Yet there is a balance to be struck here between two conflicting ideas: on the one hand, language needs to be as homogenous as possible for the best possibility of wider understanding. That is to say, if we all use the same rules consistently, the same spellings and definitions and grammar patterns, then everyone will understand each other more effectively. On the other hand, however, language must be open to interpretation to adapt to changing times, or the uses of different cultures, and sometimes rigid rules can actually restrict effective communication.

There are rules that I believe are important to stick to, but even these I might alter if it fit the style for a specific piece of writing. Part of the reason for this is that almost everything, when it comes to effective communication, depends on context. Within given contexts, there are areas where we can say it is objectively important to maintain certain rules, but in different situations this might not be true.

As such, I have one simple rule myself to decide whether or not any given rule is objectively justifiable: is an error here likely to lead to misunderstanding/miscommunication?

If breaking a ‘rule’ overall will not cause misunderstanding, and creates a variation in English that may be unconventional but will likely be understood, I’d suggest the ‘rule’ presents a helpful pattern (i.e. a common/popular way of doing it) rather than a strict rule.

On the other hand, we have to consider exactly what might cause misunderstanding/miscommunication in any given situation. Comma usage overall is a good example of this in practice: we have certain ‘rules’ about where commas should appear, and some of these will directly affect the understanding of a sentence, for example a comma before ‘who’ can establish if a clause is defining or non-defining. At other times, commas might just help break up a long sentence in positions where they’re not always required. It’s perfectly possible, though, that in some circumstances not including a comma with a non-defining clause will make no difference in how it’s understood, or a seemingly flexible comma might be absolutely necessary to break up a long sentence that could otherwise be misunderstood.

You might guess that this a topic that could be expanded to discuss pretty much most of English and its details, so I think I’ll have to revisit it again and expand on some examples (honestly, I could probably write a book on this). For now, though, I hope these thoughts go a little way towards encouraging a little extra consideration of the nature of language rules…

I had an idea to write an article discussing the difference between flexible and inflexible language rules, and when it matters to be precise or not. This is a broad and nuanced topic, which veers into matters of opinion, and I realised first it would be more useful to define some important language relating to it: what does it mean to be objective or subjective?

Objective and subjective are adjectives that are antonyms, two words with opposite meanings, essentially respectively relating to whether something is based on fact/evidence or opinion. These are important terms in general that seem more relevant today than ever, as fact and opinion get blurred and manipulated in mass media. They are also two terms that get confused by native speakers, so it’s worth discussing which is which, and how you might remember the difference.

What does objective mean?

Objective, in relation to perspectives, information, ideas and opinions, describes something that is verifiable, provable or evidence-based. In simple terms, it is something that is neutrally and unarguably true. It is based on real, object-based ideas that are not influenced by perspective or opinion.

What does subjective mean?

Subjective, for an opposite meaning, describes something that is taken from a particular point of view or perspective. It may be opinion-based or influenced by the observer. In simplest terms, subjective is a stance that depends on how it is viewed.

Objective and Subjective in Use

To illustrate the difference, here are some example statements:

• My car has four wheels. (objective, this is easily countable)
• My car is cool. (subjective, this is a matter of opinion)
• Our team are going to win the game. (subjective, unconfirmed)
• Our team won the game. (objective, it is complete fact)

And here are two examples of how an “objective decision” might be used accurately or inaccurately:

• We checked 15 different waters and made an objective decision to buy the one with the lowest level of sodium. (accurate; this decision is based on numerical data, so is not opinion-based)
• We watched all the debates and made an objective decision to vote for Jim. (inaccurate; as this involves a decision based on forming an opinion, it remains subjective)

How to remember the difference?

Both words have roots in metaphysical philosophy, making their origins a little abstract to many people, but I think for language learners a familiarity with subjects and objects helps explain the terms. This is open a bit to interpretation, not exactly a dictionary definition, but is a grammar-based (subjective!) idea I have for clarifying the difference:

Subjective clearly relates to the subject, that is the doer, the focal point of any sentence. The subject of a sentence can change, and necessarily generates change, thus when you think of something being subjective, you may also consider that it depends on who/what the subject is. The choice of subject decides the point of view or perspective, and thus subjective ideas are flexible/changeable.

Objective relates to an object, something that is definable and is not open to interpretation. We use object here as something real and fixed. If the subject is always doing something, undergoing some kind of action, the object is (at least grammatically) not moving and unchanging. It might be affected as a result of the actions, but an object does not present its own perspective – indeed it cannot, for a sentence to make sense.

Subjective and Objective Language Rules

I’d like to expand on this topic as it relates to English language in a broader article later, but briefly, these differences are worth keeping in mind whenever learning something new, or when you are correcting or being corrected. Language is a flexible thing, so the way we communicate, and what effective communication is, is necessarily, for the most part, subjective. It can adapt depending on where you are, who you are talking to and both how and what you want to convey.

However, to communicate we must also have agreed boundaries and common ground that will make sense as universally as possible. This means certain elements of language may arguably be seen as objectively true rules, or as close as can be possible, while others are subjective. There’s a sliding scale for this, but for example conjugation and spelling rules are necessarily mostly objective (though variations emerge) so we can immediately understand the meaning of specific words. Some punctuation rules can appear objectively understood, where their use is clear and their misuse will create confusion (for example, a full stop, question mark or exclamation mark clearly tells us a sentence is complete), while others may be subjective, where different styles can either convey the same thing (such as using either single or double quotation marks) or might deliberately create subtly different effects. Some uses of the aspects of the tenses, meanwhile, may be objectively understood (the past simple showing a complete past action) while others may be subjective (using the present continuous for a state or feeling).

I’ll revisit this with more detail soon, I hope, but in short it’s something to be aware of and vigilant over! In the meantime, I hope this introduction has helped present and clarify these two very useful words, objective and subjective!

“For ever after” is a phrase I found curious recently, as it highlights some interesting points about how English works as a flexible, evolving language.

The phrase can be written in two different ways, changing the meanings of the words, with no real agreement on the “correct” form. Both forms roughly mean the same thing, and as such the way people say, write or understand this phrase is likely based on a chosen style, not a difference in intention or a logically assessed reasoning.

So, let’s explore the differences, the shifts in popularity and what that means for the way we look at such inconsistencies in English.

First up, what does the phrase mean? “For ever after” is an adverbial phrase (often regarded as an idiom) that essentially means “for all time from this point on”. It’s similar to the classic fairy tale ending “happily ever after”, or the word “forevermore”.

For example:

• They got married and lived together for ever after.
• The countries signed a treaty and were at peace forever after.

How should we write “for ever after”?

Let’s break down the two ways “for ever after” can be written. I’ve used the form that clearly separates the words so far, but this is not the one I’m most familiar with; I would typically write “forever after” myself, which is why I wanted to look into the phrase in more detail. We can essentially see this as using one of two different adverbials:

• for [ever after]
• [forever] after

As in “happily ever after”, “ever after” is an idiomatic phrase meaning “everything from this point on”; the first option makes sense in the regard “for the duration of everything from this point on”. There’s also a case to be made, somewhat loosely, that we could even write “everafter”, for a third option, “for everafter”, but that is not common or really accepted. Over time it might become more popular if “ever after” develops into a true compound word.

On the other hand, “forever after” uses the adverb “forever” to mean “all time”, in the same regard, “all the time after this point”. However, I’m picking at this a bit to show some sort of difference – it’s hard to actually form a definition for either form that wouldn’t work for the other. So we have different component words with slightly different meanings, but result in basically the same outcome.

What is the most common way to say “for ever after”?

While we can already fairly say either option is acceptable, what ultimately dictates “correct” English (that being the most easily accepted or understood) is popular use. Logically, I think there’s a strong case that “for ever after” makes most sense as it applies the idiomatic phrasing. Most likely the phrase will be used to affect that kind of idiomatic expression. However, “forever after” feels more right to me personally, mostly as it emphasises that longevity. Or maybe just because it looks neater to have two words instead on one. Either way, it’s perfectly acceptable to go on gut feeling with this, or with whatever you were first taught, or like the look of, and I think that says quite a lot about how the English language often works. No doubt people would argue for one form over another, but there’s no way to definitively settle on a superior, meaning we must accept both.

What we can now do, though, is look at the statistics of usage for more insights. One of the tools I use to analyse popular phrasing is Google’s Ngram Viewer, which analyses a huge database of writing from (currently) 1800–2019. You can enter phrases and compare how their popularity has changed. Here are the results for the three different forms of the phrase.

From this data, you can see that “forever after” has held a fairly common amount of usage, overtaking “for ever after” in 1888 and establishing itself as the more popular phrasing for the next 130 years. However, throughout the 19th century “for ever after” was much more popular, and its usage apparently dramatically declined. We can draw a few conclusions from this but the most obvious would seem to be that “for ever after” was probably used in a specific type of writing, which gradually faded – probably the sort of fairy tales and romances that first popularised “happily ever after” endings. With the decline of such books, the phrase itself was used less, while it would seem that the “forever after” style, which has remained fairly consistent, was less reliant on such trends. Perhaps “forever after” has longer been a staple in common usage, with “for ever after” more tied to a particular type of writing.

That’s a bit of speculation on my behalf but hopefully serves as an example of the sort of detail we can go into when considering the “correct” way to word something – and why it’s not necessarily something that depends on meaning or language logic!

I hope you found this interesting. Let me know your thoughts, and of course feel free to explore other similar examples in the comments!

A problem many native English writers and foreign English learners have in common is combining independent clauses without the appropriate punctuation or conjunctions, often seen with what we call comma splices.

I thought this would be an interesting topic to cover, especially as I realised it’s not already in my Advanced Writing Skills book (and it’s a nice follow up to my recent look at serial commas!). So, I’m going to briefly explain what comma splices are, why (and how) they should be avoided and why they can sometimes be acceptable.

What is a Comma Splice?

Simply put, a comma splice is when you have a comma combining independent clauses, where you would otherwise expect to see a conjunction or conjunctive punctuation (for example a semi-colon, colon or dash), or two separate sentences. For example:

• She went into the basement. The lights weren’t working. = separate sentences
• She went into the basement but the lights weren’t working. = conjunction
• She went into the basement; the lights weren’t working. = conjunctive punctuation
• She went into the basement, the lights weren’t working. = comma splice

To break this down a little more, and help identify such splices, remember that an independent clause occurs whenever we have a new verb and subject, without any connectors that link it dependently to another clause (e.g. subordinating conjunctions like when, as, or relative pronouns like who, which).

In the example above, the verbs “went” and “weren’t” indicate distinct clauses, made clearer because we have separate subjects “she” and “the lights”. However, even if the verbs share a subject, which does not necessarily need to be repeated, a new active verb can still form a separate independent clause that needs connecting:

• She went into the basement and tried to turn on the light. = conjunction
• She went into the basement – tried to turn on the lights. = conjunctive punctuation
• She went into the basement, tried to turn on the lights. = comma splice

The second example here, with the dash, creates a sentence fragment, which can be more acceptably linked by a dash than a comma (though depending on the context even the dash might not be welcome; as always, the more formal a text, the more likely it would be to stick to expected rules and conventions).

Why do Comma Splices Matter?

In the examples above, the comma splices are technically incorrect. You might read them and think they make sense, though, so why does it matter? When compared to sentences that use semi-colons to bridge clauses, it might look like there’s little difference, after all.

Well, the simplest explanation is that commas are not intended to be used in this way and it’s therefore likely to cause confusion with readers. It can actively affect the way a sentence is read. How problematic this is depends on the sentence; the examples above aren’t confusing, but longer sentences or ones with different subjects could be. It can also make it more difficult to read as we won’t pause in the right places, creating a clumsy flow where information isn’t clearly separated:

• She went into the basement, the lights weren’t working, it was very dark.

By using a comma, we’d also miss the opportunity to demonstrate how separate ideas are connected. Without more context, for example, we could easily express different scenarios depending on the chosen connector:

• She went into the basement where the lights weren’t working.
• She went into the basement because the lights weren’t working.

But if you read enough in English, particularly in fiction, you’re almost guaranteed to come across some comma splices eventually. It’s an easy mistake to make, and an easy one to miss. It’s also sometimes done deliberately. This is most often the case where a writer wants to add information running directly on without distinct connectors. It’s less formal than using a semi-colon and more subtle than using a dash, both of which would be the more accepted styles. It can create a slightly different feel when we have a shared subject with a follow-on action that adds a response or feeling. Compare:

• She muttered under her breath; hated the dark.
• She muttered under her breath – hated the dark.
• She muttered under her breath, hated the dark.

In this example, it’s actually working similarly to an adverbial, but it gives it a particular twist: “hating the dark” would be the expected, grammatically correct form, but “hated the dark” sets the verb differently, as a rule, or a complete, emphatic action.

That said, it’s a technique that few writers can get away with. I read an Elmore Leonard book (Maximum Bob I believe) which was full of comma splices, for example, but Elmore Leonard was an exceptional writer with a very specific style (in this case often reflecting a character of a certain low class’s mode of language). It’s very much a case of only bending the rules when you have mastered them, and even then only if you can confidently justify why you’re doing it – and note that it is only justifiable in very specific circumstances, which will often fall into the realm of deliberate mistakes anyway.

How to Avoid Comma Splices

Once you’ve got the hang of identifying independent clauses, to avoid comma splices ask yourself if your clauses are appropriately connected. If you find they’re not, this is fairly simple to fix. Let’s go back to our original example:

• She went into the basement, the lights weren’t working.

Most simply, we could separate the clauses into separate sentences:

• She went into the basement. The lights weren’t working.

To demonstrate a particular relationship between clauses, or generate a particular flow, you could replace the comma with an appropriate conjunction:

• She went into the basement but the lights weren’t working.

To connect the clauses closely, speeding the text up and demonstrating a relationship without spelling it out, you could use a semi-colon:

• She went into the basement; the lights weren’t working.

This could also be done with a dash, though the choice here is a matter of style and (as with the splices themselves) dashes might not be universally accepted. Also note that conjunctive punctuation like this might bridge the clauses correctly, but it doesn’t necessarily make much sense as a choice if there isn’t a clear reason that they’re closely connected. In this example, for example, it would work better if we had an indicator of why the clauses are connected, such as an adverb:

• She went into the basement slowly; the lights weren’t working. (the second clause accounts for how she went, slowly)

I hope this helps as a bit of a crash course in comma splices; there’s certainly more nuance that we could go into them and the examples you find in the wild can lead to lots of questions. There’s also controversy connected to this. Purists will say comma splices are unacceptable at any time (and if you want to be safe that’s a reasonable view to follow), whilst others may use them consistently, and clearly, without even knowing how or why. It’s one of those areas of English that can cause arguments, but as with all these things, the trick is to understand how and why it happens, and from there you can decide for yourself how and why it matters.

When discussing grammar, nouns can be described as either countable or uncountable. I’ve been meaning to cover this for a while, as we’ve got a few articles relating to these definitions but not one that defines them, and describes what to look out for.

After some discussion last month, I thought it time I go into more detail on this. So, here’s my complete guide to countable and uncountable nouns.

What are countable and uncountable nouns?

Firstly, note that these are grammatical terms which describe types of nouns. Whether something is countable or uncountable does not necessarily refer to the nature of what it describes, but how the specific noun behaves grammatically.

Countable nouns are ones which we can count. This means we can assign a number to them or otherwise quantify them. A noun that can be described in separate or plural terms is countable, for example a book or two books.

Uncountable nouns are ones which we cannot count. They do not have a plural and cannot be described with numbers or as separate. These are typically nouns that describe masses, such as liquids (water, milk), or other substances that cover an area, such as materials (leather, metal), or abstract properties (love, success).

How can you tell if a noun is countable or uncountable?

To test whether a noun is countable or uncountable, consider if it has a plural form or if you can assign numbers before it. Indefinite articles, numbers and certain quantifiers (e.g. both, each, either, many, a few, every) can only come before countable nouns.

• a chair
• two chairs
• both chairs
• every chair

Uncountable nouns either have no article, number or quantifier, or a select few quantifiers such as a little or much.

• knowledge
• a little knowledge

Note that the definite article (the) can be used with both countable and uncountable nouns. When used with uncountable nouns, it can refer to a specific instance of that noun and usually implies additional information which may need to be clarified, for example with a prepositional phrase or defining clause.

• the knowledge of museums
• the knowledge which I gained from reading this article

Certain pairings of quantifiers can clearly distinguish between countable and uncountable nouns, such as many/much and a few/a little. One way you can see the difference is by considering whether we ask “How many?” (countable) or “How much?” (uncountable).

Countable and Uncountable Nouns with Verb Forms

As countable nouns can be either singular or plural, they will be followed by either singular or plural verbs depending on the noun form.

• a cat is
• six cats are

Uncountable nouns do not have a plural, so they should be treated as singular.

• love is

Watch out for noun phrases that quantify uncountable nouns with countable units, however, as these can form countable plurals. In such cases, you may find the uncountable noun comes directly before a verb, but the verb should be in plural form. For example:

• The jugs of water were very full.
• Two pieces of pie were sitting on the table.

Confusions Between Countable and Uncountable Nouns

Plenty of uncountable nouns relate to things we expect to be quantifiable but are not. For example: money, time, information, hair, weather, accommodation. Likewise, some nouns that are uncountable in English are countable in other languages (hair is a common one for foreign learners to trip up on!). Often, we can break uncountable nouns down with countable nouns to quantify them:

• money -> coins, pounds, collars
• time -> hours, minutes, seconds
• accommodation -> houses, rooms, apartments

In other cases, uncountable nouns have connected, very similar countable versions.

• work -> job
• money -> currency
• travel -> journey

Another area of confusion is that uncountable nouns can sometimes appear to have a plural when we wish to distinguish between different types of an uncountable noun, or when we refer to an example or unit of something. This is most notable with substances such as food and drink where we either distinguish between different types (e.g. a French cheese) or refer to a serving of the substance (e.g. a portion, a cup of, a glass of, etc.).

• I like cheese. BUT I liked two of the cheeses on offer. (types of cheese)
• I’ll have a beer. (a glass of beer)

For some uncountable nouns, there may be a difference between the substance and a particular instance of that substance. For example, pie as a food type is uncountable, which we might break down with a unit such as a piece of pie, but a pie (countable) can refer to an object, one pie.

This can work with abstract nouns and materials, too, often where a noun has both an uncountable and countable form, with different (but often closely-related) meanings. Time is uncountable as a concept, but we refer to countable times for particular instances. Love is uncountable, but loves can mean particular people/things loved.

Another area of confusion can come from using the definite article with uncountable nouns. This can appear to create individual/separate instances of the noun, as we can contrast, for example, the advice he gave me vs the advice she gave me. This does not necessarily make the instances countable, though. The specific instances are two pieces of advice, not two advices.

Confusion can arise when you have irregular plurals as these might be assumed as uncountable when they are in fact plurals. People, for example, is the plural of person, and should be treated as a plural, not uncountable. Finally, however, there are also instances of plural nouns which are also treated as uncountable, such as the police or scissors. As this is an unusual area, I’ve got a separate article all about that here.

For some further reading on this topic, check out my article on fewer/less and some countable/uncountable exercises. And as always, if you have any questions or comments please post below!

If you look hard enough, you’ll eventually find that almost all rules in English have exceptions and even contradictions. It’s a result of it being such an expansive and adaptive language.

One of the most curious (and perhaps frustrating) areas of English that we can actually have two identical words with their own opposite meaning. That is, one word with the same sound and spelling, used in two opposite ways.

These are called contronyms, and having recently reviewed homonyms and their associated ideas, I thought it would be interesting to explore these next, along with a few tips for spotting the differences.

What are contronyms?

Contronyms, are a specific group of homonyms, words that look and sound the same, but with opposite, or nearly opposite, meanings. They are also known as contanyms, Janus words (coming from the Roman two-faced god) or auto-antonyms (referring to being their own antonym, a word of opposite meaning). For example, the verb “dust” can mean to apply dust or to remove dust.

• She dusted the cake with icing sugar. (added)
• She dusted the shelves so they looked nice and clean. (removed)

There’s some flexibility in how people list or define contronyms, as often the different meanings stem from a different word type, and are therefore not strictly opposites. For example, “left” might be considered a contronym, because as a verb it can mean to go away, while it is used as an adverb to describe something remaining.

• He left the party early. (went away)
• After the party, he was the only one left. (still there)

This isn’t an exactly opposite meaning in use, but it’s close enough.

Contronyms – Words that are their own opposites

It’s worth learning contronyms to avoid confusion, and also to expand your vocabulary. Mostly, there’s no easy way to know when these will occur, so you have to learn them individually, and look out for the context to guess which meaning is used.

So, here are some examples of contronyms, or other confusingly similar words with different meanings:

• Bill (noun) – either a receipt or an invoice
• Bolt (verb) – to secure something down or to move quickly away
• Cleave (verb) – to bring together or to separate
• Clip (verb) – to attach together or to remove a part of (e.g. truncate)
• Dust (verb) – to add or to remove small particles
• Fast (adverb) – quick or made stable
• Finished (adjective) – completed or destroyed/ruined
• Go (verb) – to move or to weaken/fail
• Hold up (verb) – to support or to hinder
• Left (past verb) – to have gone or Left (adverb) – remaining
• Off (adjective) – deactivated or Off (part of phrasal verb) – activated (e.g. for an alarm to go off)
• Peer (noun) – nobility or an equal
• Refrain (verb) – to stop or Refrain (noun) a repetition
• Rock (noun/adverb) – stone/solid or Rock (verb) – gentle motion back and forth
• Sanction (verb) – to approve/allow or to restrict
• Seed (verb) – to sow seeds or to remove them
• Temper (verb) – to soften or to strengthen
• Trip (noun) – a journey or Trip (verb) – to interrupt motion / stagger
• Weather (verb) – to withstand or to wear away

 These are just some of the examples, there are plenty more out there! As always, please share any questions or comments below.

I had an idea to discuss contronyms this month, which are a specific type of homonym, but I realised I don’t have an article on homonyms here. These are an interesting (and difficult) aspect of English, where we have a great many words that can either look or sound the same but have different meanings. Also related are words that sound the same but look different and have different meanings, or that look the same but can sound different,

Fortunately, I already had a short article summarising this, which was originally published on my creative writing website (now sadly gone). So, here’s an updated version of my guide to homonyms, heteronyms, homophones, homographs and heterographs, with a graphic at the bottom.

What’s in the name?

Firstly, to break down these five terms and make them easier to remember, it’s worth considering how they are formed.

The prefixes “homo” and “hetero” typically refer to “the same” or “different” in English. This is perhaps most commonly understood these days from reference to sexual interests (homosexual = same sex, heterosexual = different sex).

The suffix “-phone” refers to sound (like with telephone), so homophone and heterophone relate to pronunciation (the same or different).

The suffix “-graph” refers to writing or recording, so heterography and homograph refers to how the words are spelt (again, the same or differently).

What are homonyms?

Homonyms are two words that are spelt the same, and pronounced the same, but have a different meaning. For example, “right”. This can mean the direction (opposite of left) or to be correct.  There’s a lot of these crafty words in the English language, here are some more examples with two meanings (note they may actually have more than two meanings):

• bark: the sound a dog makes / the outer-surface of a tree trunk
• kind: type of something / nice
• match: an object to make fire / a sports event
• ring: to call on a phone / a circular object (e.g. jewellery)
• well: good / a hole where water is sourced

What are homophones and heterographs?

Next up, homophones. These are words with the same pronunciation but different meanings. These can be homonyms, with the same spelling, like “right” (and “right”), or heterographs, with different spellings, like “write” and “right”. These can also be phrases made up of more than one word, for instance “copywrite”, “copy right” and “copyright” (to write copy, to copy correctly or to legally own a creative right). These are technically heterograph homophones. The important thing is, they all sound the same.

When we see heterographs in writing, it can help separate two similar sounding words that have a different meaning, as the spellings may be very different,  like  through  and threw. However, when listening, it may be difficult to know which meaning is intended, as they sound the same.

What are homographs and heteronyms?

Homographs are words with the same spelling but different meanings. All homonyms are also homographs (so technically “right” is a homonym, a homograph and a homophone).

However, homographs can also be two words with the same spelling that are pronounced differently, for instance “read” in I love to read but I’ve read this book already. Or “bow” in The quality of the bow tied to the ship’s bow made them bow in respect. Homographs with the same spelling and different pronunciations and meanings are called heteronyms.

What does this mean for you?

A lot of the most common mistakes in the English language come from mixing up heterographs, which are the root of some very common confusions, such as the different uses of your and you’re, and there, they’re and their. Mixing up homographs can also lead to a lot of confusion in speech.

Once you are aware of how the same words can produce different meanings, however, you can look out for this. To help you see how these categories can be broken down, I’ve put together a little graphic that demonstrates the overlap between the different word types.

Use this knowledge wisely, to write the right words in future and right the writing you’ve already written.