In my newspaper days, it usually happened on Mondays. Bursting with enthusiasm, an editor would announce a major feature story to be assigned ASAP. This groundbreaking piece would inevitably be based on something that gave him an "aha" moment over the weekend.
Such as Lawns.
“Uh, lawns?” we said. (What next? Flypaper?) “What about them?”
The editor sighed. (Jeez. These reporters must all be city kids.) “I was tossing a Frisbee with my kids on Sunday, and it hit me. Lawns are the center of the suburban experience. There’s so much to say about them. But I leave the digging (heh heh) to you.”
The Lawns story was written (thankfully, not by me). And rewritten. And heavily edited. And rewritten. And re-edited. It seemed that no approach to this topic could give life to the springy, bright green Unformed Thought in that editor’s mind.
When a rather dull story about lawns and their care was finally published, the editor disowned it. Not what he wanted. (Whatever that was.)
Most of us tend to think that just because we were bowled over by something, everyone else will be equally smitten. Even when we can’t seem to explain what was so great about it.
The opposite holds true, too: If I don’t like it, no one will like it. (Even if I can't really tell you what's wrong with it.)
A good friend of mine calls this the “sample of one” problem. It has a way of dominating the conversation and stomping on reason and practicality.
>If the target audience of a website is 11-year-olds, should it matter if the 40-year-old who is designing the site doesn’t find it compelling?
>If a client keeps rejecting prototypes for a new project simply because they don't "feel right," does this demonstrate a discriminating mind at work or the actions of an insecure person overly worried about keeping her job?
>If a copywriter who hates jargon removes all the technical words from a project description, will it be appropriate for its target audience of specialists?
The moral of this story is twofold:
1) If we feel strongly about something (pro or con), we need to be able to articulate clear-cut reasons.
2) These reasons need to make sense within the context of this specific project and its intended users.
Thursday
Around and About
In a recent Advertising Age article about AOL’s projected hiring of hundreds of journalists, one sentence reads: “As an example, the Life network will include sites such as Kitchen Daily and Stylist; Family will include content around parents, kids, tweens, teens and pets.”
Why do so many writers use around in this sloppy way when there’s a simple and appropriate word — about — that begs to be employed instead? “Content around parents . . .” incongruously suggests that parents, kids, tweens, teens and pets are separate islands in an imaginary Content Lake.
For some reason, prepositions — the simple linking words we’ve used all our lives — are taking a beating in print today. They are constantly ignored, overused or confused with other members of their extended family.
Writers use to when they mean from (“My conclusion was different to hers”) and of when they mean with (“I am bored of this”).
Poor little two-letter on is often scorned for the grander-seeming (but usually unnecessary) upon.
At and of, on the other hand, have long been popular favorites, tacked on for emphasis where they aren’t needed. (“Where’s he at?” “I paid too high of a price.”)
Of often goes slumming with off. (“It fell off of the table.”)
Sometimes, a needed preposition goes AWOL, as in “He wrote her to explain” and “She graduated college.”
Meanwhile, around has become the workhorse of the preposition world.
The English language is in constant flux, of course, New usages are always creeping into formal writing, whether grammarians like them or not. But I wonder what it is about around that makes it so popular. Do people instinctively prefer its vagueness? Or its spatial quality?
It's a mystery to me.
Why do so many writers use around in this sloppy way when there’s a simple and appropriate word — about — that begs to be employed instead? “Content around parents . . .” incongruously suggests that parents, kids, tweens, teens and pets are separate islands in an imaginary Content Lake.
For some reason, prepositions — the simple linking words we’ve used all our lives — are taking a beating in print today. They are constantly ignored, overused or confused with other members of their extended family.
Writers use to when they mean from (“My conclusion was different to hers”) and of when they mean with (“I am bored of this”).
Poor little two-letter on is often scorned for the grander-seeming (but usually unnecessary) upon.
At and of, on the other hand, have long been popular favorites, tacked on for emphasis where they aren’t needed. (“Where’s he at?” “I paid too high of a price.”)
Of often goes slumming with off. (“It fell off of the table.”)
Sometimes, a needed preposition goes AWOL, as in “He wrote her to explain” and “She graduated college.”
Meanwhile, around has become the workhorse of the preposition world.
The English language is in constant flux, of course, New usages are always creeping into formal writing, whether grammarians like them or not. But I wonder what it is about around that makes it so popular. Do people instinctively prefer its vagueness? Or its spatial quality?
It's a mystery to me.
Tuesday
The Reluctant Blogger
I think a blog entry is supposed to be like a letter written to a friend.
Unfortunately, a long career of writing professionally has made me think of a blog entry as an essay. With a beginning (make it catchy!), middle (say something memorable!) and end (leave 'em with something to think about!). As a result, I have written quite a few blog entry Beginnings that never get published here, because they lack Endings. Or because their Middles go on so long that I've lost the point I was trying to make.
It's also odd to be writing for no one in particular, in the sense that this form of "publishing" doesn't necessarily mean having readers.
Some days, the thing I really want to write about has nothing to do with with copywriting or or graphic design or clients. Or I can't seem to find an appropriate tone for the content. One of the best bloggers I've read, recently, Dominique Browning (SlowLoveLife) manages to find the quotidian poetry in just about everything she encounters. Bad days don't disturb the essentially even keel of her outlook.
Ultimately, I think it's better to think more and post less. So often, the stuff I read would have been much improved if it were shorter, clearer and more concerned with the world than the self.
Unfortunately, a long career of writing professionally has made me think of a blog entry as an essay. With a beginning (make it catchy!), middle (say something memorable!) and end (leave 'em with something to think about!). As a result, I have written quite a few blog entry Beginnings that never get published here, because they lack Endings. Or because their Middles go on so long that I've lost the point I was trying to make.
It's also odd to be writing for no one in particular, in the sense that this form of "publishing" doesn't necessarily mean having readers.
Some days, the thing I really want to write about has nothing to do with with copywriting or or graphic design or clients. Or I can't seem to find an appropriate tone for the content. One of the best bloggers I've read, recently, Dominique Browning (SlowLoveLife) manages to find the quotidian poetry in just about everything she encounters. Bad days don't disturb the essentially even keel of her outlook.
Ultimately, I think it's better to think more and post less. So often, the stuff I read would have been much improved if it were shorter, clearer and more concerned with the world than the self.
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