Grammaticus Personæ

Ah, grammar, that little thing that separates men from beasts. Of late, it seems that I’ve been called upon to edit, reform, and otherwise coerce others’ jot into proper flowing prose with ever increasing frequency. It is crucial to possess this skill in the modern world, for no sharper blade hath rapier than pen, no more foundational pitch of woo than wit, no weightier and more common use the tongue than speech. There is almost no occasion where one would not wish to seem more erudite, or quicker of phrase, and it is this want that drives native and foreign speakers alike to those of nimble poesie.

The trick to this golden knowledge, siren song of dame and bird alike? What stygnian bath can grant man command of masses, fearlessness of stage and forum? I’ll say this but once, and in the barest of whispers, so pay close heed.

Reading!

Soak up the stuff of stories grand and epic, the writ of ages, the only true immortality left modern human. Spare not time for the mean, low scraps of writers who’ve abandoned their Art, but fill thine eyes with tales of passion and strife, of chaos and worlds gone mad, men drunk on power and those bereft of it. Wade into the globe-striding, the timeless and the true. Learn to revel in thy native tongue, or that of another, and gain command beyond the capacity of any course or compendium of rules.

Fair warning, though; you’ll never quite be the same. But then, what is life without the spice of change?

-N. Noctis