A fixture in American vernacular is verb-up. It’s ubiquitous and unnecessary. My favorite, the one I like least, is “write up.” How can you write up? Try lying on your back with a notebook over your head (small because, unless you clip them, the pages fan). The ink stops flowing and you can’t write at all. You may be able to write “up” with an iPad, but I wouldn’t try it with a laptop.
What’s Up with Up
Other than something going in the above direction, most of the uses of “up” are without sense. Clean up, step up, pack up. Stand up? Isn’t that what standing is? Look up at the sky? You can’t look down at the sky unless you’re seeing a reflection in water or glass.
While reading THE BOOK OF LOST NAMES by Kristin Harmel, I found “up” in the first few pages, “keep up” (p. 10), “glanced up” (p. 19), “zipped up” (p. 25), “cut up” (p. 29), before I was immersed in this powerful story. I wonder if “up” is so intractable in our language, it’s invisible, a part of the rhythm of words.
Though common, the addition of up is selective. You work up and draw up, but you don’t plan up; chew up and eat up, but not swallow up (unless you’re talking about quicksand, sinkholes, or Jonah); love up and snuggle up, but not kiss up (unless you’re referencing sycophants).
Down with Up
I’m not the first to write about this mostly unnecessary word. It can be humorously done as in Jennifer Rova’s blog “Friday Fun with the Word UP”. In most writing, I contend, “up” can be eliminated. The communication will be clear without it.
Is there a directional add-on that drives you up the wall? Write it (up or down) in the comments. And, please, consider using the word “up” after a verb less frequently. Thanks! : ) Word Less Lee