Search engine optimazation and the writer

In my last post I ranted and raved a bit about my disappointment with the way websites required writers to write to a certain formula – specifically one that used target words that would draw searchers to the article.

Shortly after, while checking out my twitter page, I noticed a reference to some software that writers can use to turn one article into a half dozen different versions of itself. I guess it could be considered cloning? I guess I could be old fashioned but the very thought of this takes me back to high school and using the Cliff Notes or Classic Comics to avoid the real work of reading,

The idea behind the software is that it will save the writer tons of time in the originality seeking department while providing different ways to extract saleable material from a single article. The purpose is kind of wonky, if you ask me, because instead of requiring that a person write solid, well-researched, informative content, the software agrees that the real reason to have articles published on the web – beyond the monetary reimbursement – is to provide a website with search engine optimized verbiage.

All this certainly flies in the face of the rules George Orwell wrote should be followed by every writer.

(Image via Wikipedia)They are:
• Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
• Never use a long word where a short one will do.
• If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
• Never use the passive where you can use the active.
• Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
• Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

To read Orwell’s entire essay, check out Politics and the English Language.

How I learned to love Amazon and why that might change

From the day Amazon first appeared on the web, I disliked the company. I didn’t care for the whole concept of selling books at a deep discount. I had this smug “principle” thing going; I believed Amazon was out to destroy the independent bookstore.

I guess the attitude came from my youth.

Many years ago, folks in my hometown bought their meat at the local butcher shop, their vegetables, their baked goods from the side door of a house where a little old lady baked things daily, their bread from a local baker who delivered by truck every day, and their canned goods and other foods from the locally owned market. One day a big sign went up three miles away, on the main highway, announcing the groundbreaking for A Big Supermarket. This was a huge deal for a small town. The advent of a one-stop shop with low prices was the topic of conversation for months, and the words were not always encouraging for A Big—at least the words from the mouths of the butcher, the baker and the little bread maker and friends. The people feared their personal relationship with the local vendors would disappear because A Big would drive them out of business.

They were right.

Sales at the A Big were slow to start but within a few months, residents were driving the few miles every couple of days to purchase all their food. Not long after, the butcher closed his shop, the bread maker laid off most of his help, the general grocery too, and the baker stopped baking. (To be fair here, I think she died but some blamed A Big for that.)

In essence, A Big drove the independent businesses out of business.

I missed getting a free cupcake; I missed watching the butcher make sausages in the middle of the store; I missed the handful of red cherries the grocer let me sample while picking up our orders. I missed walking to the store every day.

Then something tragic happened.

A Big decided traffic in their big store wasn’t good enough. After about two years, they closed the store.

This is why I disliked the idea of Amazon.

Smugly, I relished every report of losses Amazon suffered in the beginning days, months and years. I hoped the experiment would result in a total failure.

Of course, that didn’t happen. Bit by bit, the company grew, diversified, grew some more and eventually turned red ink into black, making investors very happy.

And bit by bit, as Amazon flourished, independent bookstores began to fade into the proverbial sunset.  And turned to Amazon for titles my local library didn’t carry.

Eventually, I learned to like Amazon. Good prices, great selection, fast delivery—what’s not to like, especially when there’s no independent (new) bookstore in this city? 

Then, I read an eye-opening blog post about how Amazon is “banning” books. Well, not books, per se but ebooks, and not banning, exactly. These aren’t necessarily the kind of books I would read but the idea of removing them from inventory doesn’t sit well with me, especially since this is being done without clear guidelines or reason.

What’s even scarier to me is that after delisting certain titles, Amazon might also have removed the titles from consumer kindles. (This information came from a comment on the blog post noted above so I can’t confirm that it actually happened. However, kindle owners know they are just paying to borrow their titles.)

I know. I know. Amazon is a business and as such can decide what to sell and what not to sell, and that’s what they’ve done. They’re not banning; they’re just not selling.

But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

If I want to read any of the delisted titles, I’ll surf over to Barnes and Noble where the authors report their Amazon-delisted books are selling better than ever.

Query letter from the Holy Ghostwriter

(In my last post, I wondered how the authors of the Old Testament might query an agent regarding publication. I’m sure this isn’t an original question but since I’ve never heard it asked before, I think I’ll just make a feeble attempt to guess—with apologies to whomever—how this might work.)

Dearest Agent:

The Old Testament is the story of how a superior entity, who goes by the name of God, created the world in just six days, seven if you count His 24-hour coffee break.

In the beginning, He just wants to create Earth but somehow that doesn’t seem like enough. After all, what good is this big round beach ball if it’s just rotating around the sun? God has this drive, this need to populate His universe, to see where his invention goes. Maybe He is just playing a game; maybe it’s an experiment; maybe it’s for real.

If God knows, He isn’t telling.

As the hours and days go by, God tinkers with His project, adds a little day and night to the mix, some firmament, a bit of fruit, even a couple of human beings and a creature that lurks around apple trees.

It’s hard work, creating the earth. After six days and nights, God was a bit on the weary side so He takes a day off -- and when he does, all hell breaks loose.

The Old Testament follows up on God’s creation as it progresses from those early days to the birth of His Son, ages later. Between the two events, we experiences a horrendous flood, watch towers being built, learn how to worship idols, get some important commandments, discover a Holy Land, and realize how God’s children had to come to terms with their sins.

The Old Testament is a fast-paced 500,000 word (more or less, depending on which version will be submitted) mystery manuscript, part of a two-book series, the second of which (titled The New Testament) is in the rewrite stage.

We respectfully await your response.

Sincerely,
Anonymous

P.S. I think the ebook version will be a gangbuster!

Why do we write; why do we read?

I suppose the reasons for writing and/or reading vary according to the number of different people who write and/or read. Some use the written word as escapism, entertainment, information, excitement, knowledge some because they love language.

On a recent day excursion to the mountains, I had a conversation (a real one, not one in my head) with my companion. He told me about the time he signed up for some self-improvement seminar. The first question the speaker asked was, “How many of you have purchased a self-help book or tape or attended a seminar?” The entire roomful of people raised its collective hand. Next he asked, “How many of you purchased a second self-help book or tape or attended a second seminar?” Again, the hands rose.

“Why, he asked in summary, “If you finished the first, did you need a second?”

It’s that way with fiction, isn’t it—reading it or writing it?

You buy one fiction title today, finish it and you’re ready for the next one.

You finish writing one masterpiece and you rev up the motor to start on the next one.

We hunger; we need; we feed

It doesn’t matter why, does it?

Would you use these verbs?

When I blogged about my favorite verbs recently, I was thinking in terms of creating action within fiction. A couple of friends joked about the piece and offered a few of their own favorites, none of which I plan to use in my own work. But, the topic, and the laughs, made me think about other types of verbs, common and not so common, some of which I've listed below. I can’t foresee using them – at least not at this moment – but who knows. Maybe, just maybe, one or two of them will slink around the crevices of my brain and worm their way into my prose.

Verbs like:

• Backspace: I’m not sure this is really a verb but I caught myself saying I was going to backspace somebody out of my life. Don’t you think it’s a stronger word than delete?
• Abscind: Can you imagine writing this: The killer abscinded his victim’s hands. Nah, it doesn’t even sound like a verb.
• Scamander: I think I’d just use meander. Scarify: This really means to scar but I think readers might interpret it as a form of scare.
  
• Plodge: I kind of like this one. I can almost see someone plodging around an unclean stable or maybe the soggy ground during a monsoon.
• Fantasticate: Sorry, but this one sounds a bit too much like one of those malaprops, like refudiate.
• Obfuscate: This is actually a common word, one I used in a column many, many years ago. A reader told me if I didn’t stop using such big words, he would stop reading my stuff. (I backspaced him from my Christmas list, even before I ever thought of using backspace as a verb.)
• Gerrymander: We’ve probably seen a version of this word as a noun but not so much as a verb. It’s kind of sad, though, that a word that sounds so nice would mean something so nefarious. (Okay, maybe nefarious is too strong but isn’t it a melodic word, despite its definition?)
• Decatise: Hmmm. I bet ephemera experts know how to decatise.

This whole verb thing interests me. It’s the verb that moves action along and the precise verb should be powerful enough to let the reader feel and see the action.

The confident writer

My laptop is stuffed with words. Like the cavity of a Thanksgiving turkey, my documents folder bulges with archives of everything I’ve written over the last twelve years – articles, short stories, poetry and a couple of novels. (Many of the non-fiction pieces have been published in magazines or on the web.)

Last week, I scanned through the morass of titles, chose a dozen of these gems, one from each year, and read them. Except for one, I liked them. Except for one, they put me back to the time they were written. They returned me to my desk, my sofa, my office. They allowed me to see the past, hear the noises, and recall the people who walked by, peered over my shoulder, asked me questions. Except for one, the experience of perusing this small group of words gave me a rush of satisfaction: I knew how to write something worth reading!

Except for one.

That particular article read like a bad short story written by a stranger.

I wrote that article during a short stint as a managing editor. I’d been talking to a co-worker about a submission. She insisted this piece was definitely worth publishing because the writer had never been rejected. Everything he’d ever written had been accepted, from his first work while in college to his current articles in major magazines.

Her glowing praise had dampened my own confidence as a writer, and that doubt crept into my work, inserted itself between the commas, chopped off thoughts before they materialized into meaningful prose.

That punch in the creative stomach didn’t have a lasting affect; however, I’m sure the cause and effect clearly relates to how I think and feel about my foray into fiction. I can imagine friends and family enjoying my work but worry if that same work will resonate with strangers. Will I measure up to their expectations? Will they think I’m good at my craft? Will they demean my talent?

Despite the self-doubt that creeps into my thoughts, I continue to write. When I write, I enjoy the process; I like my words; take pleasure in how writing makes me feel, and because of that, I will bask in the glory of praise and steel myself against negative reviews.

That’s about as confident as I can be.

How about you?

***

A very popular error: having the courage of one’s convictions; rather it is a matter of having the courage for an attack on one’s convictions!!!
Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

Quote of the day (2)

I read a lot of poetry when in my younger days, when poetry for my friends was a chore. My best buds didn’t know this about me. A few suspected, thought it odd, but refrained from commenting. They didn’t understand poetry; often, I didn’t as well.

My favorite poet was (and is) E.E. Cummings, and to this day I have a tattered bookmark of (will you teach a... .

Cummings probably didn’t write this as an inspirational work for writers, but that’s how I use it.

(will you teach a …

(will you teach a
wretch to live
straighter than a needle)

ask
her
ask
when
(ask and
ask
and ask
again and)ask a
brittle little
person fiddling
in
the
rain

(did you kiss
a girl with nipples
like pink thimbles)

ask
him
ask
who
(ask and
ask
and ask
ago and)ask a
simple
crazy
thing
singing
in the snow

My grammar ain't perfect

I’m not the greatest grammarian. Far from it. I am a decent grammarian. However, I make a lot of mistakes, (Don't like to admit it!) inadvertently and usually small, but mistakes nonetheless. (Just ask my friend Lynne, who ranks up near the top of the list of great grammarians and who lets me know when I goof.)

Even so, I have some pet peeves that emerged as a result of grammar lessons learned the hard way. And, because I appreciate constructive criticism – the kind that will make me a better writer – I don’t mind airing my opinions.

The one grammatical error I find most difficult to correct is the misplaced only. We see this one every day, many times. “I only like mashed potatoes.” Unless you’re telling people you are the single person who likes mashed potatoes, or that you like mashed potatoes (don’t eat them, don’t serve them, don’t anything-else them) the correct phrase should be “I like mashed potatoes only” or I like only mashed potatoes.”


Sounds awkward, doesn’t it? That’s because we’ve all misplaced the word only for so long, the correct usage doesn’t ring true. Probably a better choice would be to say “I like mashed potatoes,” or be more descriptive by writing, “I prefer my potatoes mashed, not fried.”

When we talk, we often ignore correct grammar, which is why the errors creep into our writing.

There comes a point in life, however, where we just keep forging ahead. We get by with our current knowledge and don’t look for improvement. We think we know what we’re doing so why bother. Our mistakes go into our writing like bread into a toaster.

But then, if we have excellent characters, interesting plots, outstanding flow, we can always hope we get a good editor.

Choose Your Words

My writing life has taken me to explore many paths. (I've stumbled many times, lost my way at least the same number.)

Several years ago, I became a serious student of Buddhism.

One of my favorite quotes from The Buddha is:

Whatever words we utter should be chosen with care 

for people will hear them and be influenced by them for good or ill.

I don't like Post-it notes, almost never use them, but I have one with this quotation on my desk, with my own slight revision.