By MERVIN BLOCK
July 2007

Pete Williams, who covers the Justice beat for NBC News, recently uncovered a mistake I made. He spelled it out in a letter, which he gave me permission to print:

• Mr. Block --

  I've been reading your delightful critiques of the writing on the three evening network newscasts, and I'd like to ask a question about one of your comments regarding a correspondent's script in an ABC broadcast.

  You write:

  "'Iraqi officials say the gunmen were part of a religious cult composed of Shias, Sunnis and foreign fighters.' (Jan. 29, 2007.) The whole comprises the parts; the parts compose the whole. So composed of should be comprising."
  

  It could certainly be said that a play comprises three acts, or that three acts compose a play. I've always thought of it this way: that comprise means "includes these things and no others" and that compose means "make up."

  Why, then, would it not be proper to say that the play is composed of three acts--that the play is made up of three acts?

  The error that Fowler and the others authorities warn against is comprised of.

  In the ABC example, comprising would certainly be a more elegant way to phrase it, but is composed of really an error? And might it not be more conversational?

  Respectfully,
  Pete Williams
  NBC News Justice Correspondent

I goofed. Yes, composed of in that ABC script was perfectly acceptable. What was really goofy: I already knew that. I had previously written about compose and comprise, and I'd also spoken about them. But apparently my brain's synapses and dendrites misfired. When I was writing that faulty sentence in my article, "Gibson's Scripts Need an Editor Who Knows Write From Wrong," maybe I blacked out. Or blanked out. Certainly, the correct usage was something I blocked out.

If I had read aloud my faulty sentence in Washington, I could have told Pete Williams I had misspoken. Office holders in that kind of fix sometimes say they've been misquoted, or quoted out of context, or that their words had been twisted. But I can't use that dodge.

I apologize to my readers, and I salute Pete Williams. He has written a letter that's kind and gracious. It can serve as a model for any reader, or anyone else for that matter, in writing a letter to point out a mistake.

Williams begins his letter with a compliment, so I was pleased and eager to read further. He says he'd like to ask me a question. That sounds innocent enough, not alarming. Or threatening. Next, he reminds me of something I had written in my latest article. Then he demonstrates his knowledge of the subject I had written about. He doesn't accuse me of committing a crime against humanity; he merely asks his question. And he ends the letter gently with two more polite questions.

Although Williams caught my mistake, he didn't write a nasty gotcha letter. He didn't bash me or trash me. He even signed off with "respectfully."

Gotta respect a man like that.