Three Thoughts About Phrasal Verbs

And why they're important for your editing.

Once upon a time, on a long, long car journey, my sisters and I set out to see which verb took on most clearly different meanings, depending on the particle or preposition it was paired with (or with which it was paired). I don’t think we knew these were called phrasal verbs, but I can still see the Greek mountains the car was ploughing through as we came to the conclusion it was probably put. These are only some of the possibilities:

• To get the children to cooperate, he put on a funny voice.
  Don’t put your hat on yet.
  She put a ridiculously funny hat on.
  They always put on a great party.

• I was rather put out that she put out the candles before it was dark.
  Even though she’d paid for dinner, he wouldn’t put out that night.

• When the truck reached the roundabout the hitchhikers were put off without ceremony.
  The way he put off the date of their wedding without checking put her instantly off getting married at all.

• Shall I wait till the end to put in my bid?
  When the plate came round they put a lot of money in.

• The poor dog had to be put down.
  Shall I put the baby down for his nap?
  Don’t put yourself down!
  Please put down my objection to this conclusion.

These days one of the editing suggestions my pen most often hovers over is whether to split up, or reunite, the elements of a phrasal verb. It’s a small tweak, but one which can have a surprisingly large effect on how well a sentence runs for the reader, and even whether they understand it. And there’s one aspect of it which many writers get hung up on, and many other writers shout about, so we’ll look at that too.