Advertising

As a self-published author, ideas for marketing and advertising are always welcome. Self-marketing is a struggle; networking is hard in a small circle. Continuing the effort to publicize, I stumbled across this page. The ideas are fresh, creative, and intriguing—exactly what I want my advertising work to look like. As the contest to promote continues, I am reminded continually of how key consistency is. It's about doing, doing, and re-doing something. We're creatures of habit; finally, after multiple repetitions (seeing the same add four dozen times), we may remember it.

Don't lose heart in your marketing and advertising. The struggle is real, but it is worth it. At least, that's what they tell me.

Worth Saying Well

"It’s a unique way to process transactions between riders and drivers." This is an eleven word sentence that has absolutely no clear meaning. It could be referring to a "fee of a handshake" that might be imposed on the city buses. Or a new payment system in taxis that enables you to pay with something besides commonly accepted currency—like a five gallon can of gasoline, or a gift card. Maybe it's referring to a dated method of transportation (like horse-drawn carriages) coming back into vogue.

Because there is no defining language, it's almost impossible to judge what the sentence means. If you're going to write stand alone sentences, try to make them crystal clear—not clear as mud. It only takes a word or two more, and sometimes it even cuts the word count:

"Shaking hands to pay for city busses makes riders trust drivers more." (12 words)

"Taxi drivers love the new 'pay with a gallon' method of payment; full gas cans and gift cards accepted." (19 words)

"Horse and buggy travel is more relational than public transportation." (10 words)

It's not a burden to make your language clear and easy to understand; it just takes a little more thought and intentionality. If you're reading something that makes no sense, and has minimal explanation, two tricks to figure it out:

#) Look at the context. Even if a sentence seems to be derailed from any contextual meaning, at least it will give you some clue about what the author is talking about in general.

#) Ask for explanation. Perhaps you're lucky enough to have a communicating relationship with the author; if not, ask other people. Sometimes a second or third pair of eyes can see what the first might have missed.

It's not hard to avoid this by writing clearly. If it's worth saying, it's worth saying well.

What if it Rains

Setting up the full sound equipment for a choir and band to perform outside, for instance in a park, takes an extensive amount of effort. Between speakers, wires, and every small technical detail, by completion it's been several hours of labor, lots of sweating, and a good amount of tactician's effort—how things need to be positioned to sound the best, where they'll be out of the line of vision (but still effective), and the wires that need to be set and draped to avoid a rats nest of tangle. All of this, and what if it rains? You have to pack up and clear out quickly, to save the equipment. Even if the band only played for five minutes, rain doesn't make the process worthless—but it certainly feels that way.

Sometimes you spend a long time on a piece, working very hard and putting your best into it.  Then something goes wrong; someone doesn't like it and 'they' only have negative things to say about it.

That doesn't invalidate it. It is always worth it to write.

Sunday Writer

Everyone knows a Sunday driver—they drive slow in the slow lane, even slower in the fast lane, and count to 7 before accelerating through a red-light-turned-green. Sunday drivers are stressful for everyone, except, it would seem, the drivers themselves. They seem perfectly relaxed, unconcerned about timing and traffic. There's something to learn from them, if there's time to pause in the rush and learn it. The journey is half of the destination package; it is meant to be enjoyed, not rushed through.

It's hard not to write in a hurry. When there's a point to make—a message to get across—it's easy to fly through the introduction and the meat of the work, just to reach the conclusion; the final drive. This discredits the reader. Part of the thrill of the punchline in a long joke is the tedious description and buildup. A well written piece is effective because of the congruity and flow throughout, even if it takes time to write and read. If it's rushed or incomplete, it loses attention in some cases and respect in most.

Writing like a Sunday driver is hard. It takes careful planning, intentionality, and practice; and self-control. It's especially easy to rush ahead without regard to structure and timing, but if you can take the time to cultivate something, to write it clean and smooth, it is effective long past initial publication. It will stand the test of time and changing styles, because it stood the test of 'hurry.'

Sunday driving does make the journey better, too; if not in the process, maybe in retrospect.

Why Real Life is the Best—Part 2

See yesterday to understand today. Fiction is great, but it isn't the best. Instead, real life. Not because everything that happens is wonderful; it's surely not. Bad things happen all the time, and having an escape is good, as long as it doesn't become an addiction. But sometimes escape and refuge aren't necessary. Real life is the best, because, no matter how far technology goes—no matter how it makes us feel we are experiencing something simulated, no matter how dramatic and drastic our 'fiction' can be—nothing holds a candle to the size of the earth, to the warmth of the sun, to embrace from a friend or the warm release of a real tear slipping down a cheek.

Following that real life is the best, that is why the best fiction is about real life. We want to read things that we can understand, we want to read about people like us, we want to grasp insight from someone we're not prejudiced against or intimidated by so we can actually respect it.

The message is twofold:

#) whatever you write, write real life into it. It has greater allure, wider depth, and deeper purpose.

#) really nothing beats real life; so take time in the rush to stop and appreciate it. It's not hard to do—step outside in any season, and you'll immediately be barraged by whatever reality is happening with the weather; then go from there.

Why Real Life is the Best—Part 1

"And we hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal, endowed by their Creator with certain un-alienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness." This is a famous excerpt from the Declaration of Independence.  Every human was created equal, and each has the right to life. Life. Not in the pro-life sense but in the 'really truly alive' sense; the feeling of dropping into bed, weary and exhausted, after a hard day of labor. The satisfaction of food in a hungry stomach. The inexplicable beauty of the sunset, the clarity of the air after a rainstorm, the feel of being warm on a cold day, or cool on a hot day. Although global and personal circumstances are different, most people are born fully equipped with senses, which enable them to understand and experience wonderful things.

I am self-proclaimed and unashamedly a writer. It's what I do, it's what I love; I write to show people what they've always thought but never put words to. I write to release, to understand, to process. I write, so that people will read. Reading requires the temporary suspension of reality, as you either involve yourself in the story, or concentrate to understand information.

Every element of story requires this pause; as you watch a movie, or listen to the radio, or read a book, some part of your brain leaves the current reality to invest and engage with the content. Although some may be leery of it, it is wonderful. To wholly partake in the experience is like sweet relief from many pressures. Fiction is freedom, it is insight, it is story, but it is not everything. Even completely simplified, fiction is pulling from something about real life. There is nothing fictional that does not draw some aspect of itself from reality, and use ideas that are present in the real world.

Come back tomorrow to see why it matters.

Why Running (Writing) is so Good

There are three kinds of runners:

• I've-got-to-get-away runners. They take massive strides, covering ground like a charging rhino; running like they're a) going somewhere, b) getting away from something,  or c) trying to forget life. Their lungs might explode mid-run, but they won't notice.
• I'm-doing-this-for-the-cardio runners. This seems to be the largest group, not in it for the adrenaline or the high; it's for the exercise. The woman and her look of misery, the heavyset man on a slow jog with sparkling clean running shoes that look like they've never been worn.
• I-love-this runners. A conundrum to the rest of us. They run for the sheer pleasure; not because they need the exercise, not because they need the freedom. They enjoy it.

Every runner fits somehow into one (or maybe all three) of these groups. However, after years and years of running, usually the members of the first and second group become members of the third. Many people who start running because they must keep running because they want.

The same could be said about writing. Some write with fervor and passion, pounding it out to cope. Others write because they have to, because it's an assignment or a deadline or a letter to Great Aunt Mabel. But a few write for the love of writing. They write because they know the feeling of having written; the euphoria of seeing their words on a page, and knowing them to be not only okay—but good.

Even if running (writing) is mere drudgery, keep at it. It's healthy, good for your body (brain), and keeps you flexible. And, after all, there's a slight chance that before forever happens, you'll enjoy it.

Four Tricks for Better Script Writing

Script writing focuses on both hearing and seeing. While writing the script, you need to be hearing what it will sound like as the spoken word, and seeing how the script will interact with the actors for final production. To write a good script, your mind must to become a video reel with a quick pause and rewind button; playing the scenes as they come, stopping often to fix or replay. Four tips to writing a good script:

• Know exactly what you're trying to say. If you're writing a script for a promotional video, know the content you're trying to advertise before you begin. If you're writing script for a fictional film, know where you want to end up—then you'll be able to get there.
• Look at what other people are doing. If you're trying to sell a certain flavor of juice box, look at other juice box ads; not to copy them, but to understand the lingo that works (or doesn't work).
• Edit relentlessly. Read it out loud with your voice. Read it out loud in your head. Read it out loud with your best friend, or your spouse, or the old lady sitting next to you on the bus. The more you hear it, the more you'll hear what needs to go.
• Learn to write dialogue well. Script writing is dialogue heavy—knowing how to write dialogue well makes the flow of the script much smoother.

It's a thrill to watch people saying words you put in their mouths; not deviously, of course.

3 Tricks to Writing Better Dialogue

Jack said, "Please, good sir, be so kind as to pass me the wrench." Bob replied, "Certainly, my good man, it would be my pleasure."

Then Jack said, "Why thank you. I will now unscrew this bolt and take the cover off of this engine."

And Bob said, "Wow. That's a big job. It is a good thing we have a lot of time to do it after lunch." And Jack replied,

"Yes. I anticipate it will take several hours."

Bob said, "Okay. Well we should start up." Jack nodded, and said,

"Yes. Lets."

We've all read dialogue like this—stilted, unmeasured, uncomfortable. It is clunky and unbelievably dull. Here are three tips to avoid flat dialogue:

• Read your dialogue out loud. You'll be surprised how fast you spot inconsistencies and dull phrases—and things that no one in his right mind would say.
• Think of your characters as someone you know: Uncle Jack, next door neighbor Sallie, grocery bag boy Tim. Then, try to hear them saying your words in your head; if they can't say it, or sound ridiculous, it's probably a sign that you should cut it down.
• Edit rigorously, over time. You'll find that a sentence that seemed fine yesterday, or even this morning, has three extra words when you go back to read it later. The more you edit, the slimmer your dialogue can be. In real life, speech is very relaxed.

See this adaption from above:

Jack nodded, and said, "Wrench?"

"Sure, dude."

"Thanks. Looks like we gotta take the whole cover off." Bob looked at his watch, as his stomach growled.

"That's gonna take a long time."

"Probably. Let's do it." Bob sighed and nodded, saying,

"Okay."

The Slow Build

I'm an impatient reader. After getting caught up in the story, I want action. The slow build—the long tedious process that takes time and development and careful plot planning—is hard for me. It's not because I have no taste; plenty of classics have slow plots that gradually build and  crescendo, then gently decline. The difference? The reader isn't at the mercy of the author; he is learning about the events at the same rate, and the author is just along for the ride. It's as if the two of you are watching the same play simultaneously; he is just transcribing the storyline. When the reader feels manipulated, and the author holds back information "just because," the slow build has been misused.

Write suspense into your story; use the slow build, the steady increase, the thrill of discovery—but don't gloat over him when you keep your reader in the dark. It is, after all, his choice to keep reading.