Due in part to the crippling loneliness that's plagued me ever since
I became a "freelance" writer, I'm now a member of two writing
groups.
One is a fiction-writing group spawned of a UCLA Extension writing
class. The other is a screenwriting group spawned of the Internet.
The first is mostly women, the second is mostly men.
The first gives gentle, nurturing, positive reinforcement. The
second refers to the critiquing process as "hammer time."
The first consists of people who might, maybe, someday submit
something to a publication or fiction contest or maybe even someday
finish that novel. The second is made up of people who in their minds
are already writing dialogue to be spoken by A-list actors.
The first group consists of people who issue disclaimers such as,
"This thing I wrote really stinks and I was really tired and we don't
have to read it at all if you guys don't want to." The second
consists of people who would happily corner Martin Scorsese at a
Starbucks to ask him to read their script.
The first group is, I suspect, made up mostly of middle children
who, like me, wore an older sibling's hand-me-downs while changing a
younger sibling's diaper. The latter group, I suspect, is made up of
either oldest children like my endearingly demanding big sister,
younger children like my endearingly narcissistic little sister, or
only children, like the vast majority of the boyfriends I no longer
talk to.
Members of the first group know that I'd like to make my fiction
writing more meaningful. Members of the second group don't know that
I don't even really write screenplays (just lonely is all).
But, surprisingly, these two seemingly polar opposite groups are
made up of people who share a single universal trait. Pretty much all
of them think "alright" is a word. (OK, maybe not Maitreya and Lisa,
but I can't let truth dilute my thesis.)
By the way, my friends are not alone in thinking that "alright" is
a word. The Who, the Rolling Stones, Lenny Kravitz and the Beastie
Boys all think so, too.
And there are lots more where they came from.
But when it comes to "alright," these people are all wrong.
"Alright" simply ain't (which, ironically, has a lot more credibility
than "alright").
From the "Associated Press Stylebook": "'all right (adv.) Never
'alright.'"
From the "Chicago Manual of Style": "'all right.' Two words. Avoid
'alright.'"
From "Lapsing Into a Comma: A Curmudgeon's Guide To the Many
Things That Can Go Wrong in Print (and How to Avoid them)": "'all
right' Not 'alright.'"
