A WORD, PLEASE:

It seems I’m always telling people not to worry about their grammar. An odd thing for a grammar buff to say, I know, but hear me out. It’s not that I think people shouldn’t worry about their grammar. It’s that I believe you must prioritize. If you start worrying about every little question of capitalization, hyphenation, etc., you’re in big trouble.

For example, I recently heard from a writer who was agonizing over whether to capitalize the C in, “Hello, Captain.” Is “captain” a title, she wondered? A name? A nickname? A rank? A generic noun? But for all her insightful questions, one never crossed her mind: Does anyone actually expect me to know this?

That one has a simple answer: No. Writers aren’t expected to be editors. Even editors aren’t expected to commit everything to memory. They all have style books on their desks and spend all day looking stuff up. By the way, when they’re in the “Chicago Manual of Style,” they see that the “C” in this instance of “Captain” should be uppercase because it’s being used as a sort of nickname.

Once you can start sifting out the not-too-important language issues, you can see with greater clarity what’s left: grammar and spelling matters so important to your image that getting them wrong can knock you down a whole notch in others’ esteem.

Here are a couple I consider the most important.

“It’s” and “its.” Typos with these two words aren’t so bad. Consistently demonstrating an ignorance of them is. “Its” is possessive. It’s the exception to the rule that says you form possessives by adding an apostrophe and an “S”. “The dog’s tail” versus “its tail.” The “it’s” with an apostrophe is always a contraction. It means either “it is” or “it has.”

“Their,” “they’re” and “there.” Again, slip-ups aren’t so bad. We all type the wrong one sometimes. But it’s crucial to know the difference. “Their” shows possession, “their house,” “they’re” is a contraction of “they” and “are,” and “there” is a place. Ditto that for “your,” possessive, and “you’re,” a contraction of “you” and “are.”

“Whose” and “who’s.” Same principle, even easier to mess up. When in doubt, stop and think. Do you mean “who is,” as in, “Who’s coming to dinner”? If so, the apostrophe belongs because you’re using a contraction. “Whose” shows possession: “Whose dinner am I eating?”

“Let’s” and “lets.” This pair may be the trickiest of all because the first one is a remnant of an almost archaic use. “Let’s” is a contraction meaning “let us.” “Let’s all be calm” is a common expression. But “let us all be calm” sounds weird. “Let’s go” is common. “Let us go” sounds like you’re rehearsing for a play. The one without the apostrophe, “lets,” is a conjugated verb. It pretty much always comes alongside a subject. “He lets the dog out at night,” “The babysitter lets us play video games.”

The last one trips up even more people: “Between you and I” is always wrong. It’s “between you and me.” That’s because “between” is a preposition, and prepositions always take objects. “I” is a subject form; “me” an object. It’s a little different from questions of “John and I” versus “John and me.” Both of those have their place. “John and I watch ‘Lost.’” Here, “John and I” is the subject of the verb. “’Lost’ dazzles John and me.” Here, “John and me” is an object. In any of these cases, if you’re not sure, just plug in “we” and “us.” Is it “between we” or “between us”? I thought so.

?JUNE CASAGRANDE is a freelance writer and author of “Grammar Snobs Are Great Big Meanies” and “Mortal Syntax: 101 Language Choices That Will Get You Clobbered by the Grammar Snobs — Even If You’re Right.” She may be reached at JuneTCN@aol.com.