Write Well Me

Poor Y

Geoffrey over at Language Log gives Y a bad rap.  Specifically, he quotes a scene from Jersey Boys where the characters discuss how Frankie Valli should spell his stage name:

Because y is a bullshit letter. It doesn't know if it's a vowel or a consonant.  You're an Italian.  You have to end in a vowel.  Like pizza.  A vowel says, "This is who I am.  If you don't like it, you can go fuck yourself."

Who knew that a West End production would reference linguistics?

However, I'm a bit partial to y.  We spelled our daughter's name (Kathryn) with a y to differentiate it from the million other forms of the name.  Maybe we'd have thought differently had we seen Jersey Boys.

Of course, we're not Italian, so we do get some slack there.

Please Explain Why

This isn't a rant.  Really.  I just don't understand why people do the things they do.

At Write Well U, we offer Writing Circles, a way for people to get together, share their writing and challenges, and have a safe, supportive place to grow as writers.

We very clearly explain what Writing Circles are and how they work.  There's even an application form.

Here's what I don't understand.  Several people have signed up, which means they've gone through the trouble of filling out the application.  The next step in our process is to get in touch with the people and set up a time to talk with them about what's involved.  Two people, TWO, won't respond.  As a matter of fact, one person gave me a wrong number.  Now, maybe it was a typo.  Maybe not.

Why would you sign up, fill out an application, and give wrong information?  And not be in touch?  What am I missing? 

Is There a Place for Voice in Copywriting?

Allison wrote about how there's no place for voice in ad copy and other forms of copywriting.  I'm trying to figure out if I agree or not.  Specifically, Allison says,

Focus on what you are selling and why your target market should be buying from you. Focus on that with laser-like precision and stop focusing on what you should not be doing. (And the things you should not be doing, as far as copywriting, include going on and on about your history, your personal story or your passion. Focus on what you are selling and why they should buy.)

Marketing law states that people buy from people they like.  The product isn't the end-all and be-all.  You have to establish a rapport and wow the customer.

I'm working on a presentation covering copywriting, especially for websites.  In my opinion, websites that stand out from the rest, show some moxie, and have a strong voice win out over the bland, generic webcopy.

But that's just my opinion.  Maybe I'm wrong.  Maybe there's no place for voice in ad copy.  What do you think?

Department of Wow

At last week's grow-your-business seminar, Bruce talked about the experience his family had when they scoped out High Point University for their daughter, Chelsea.  Evidently, High Point wasn't on Chelsea's list of schools, but Bruce and his wife wanted her to check it out anyway.  They happened to be in North Carolina visiting other schools, and they decided to swing by High Point. Bruce called up and asked if they could get a tour of the campus.  The person asked when, and Bruce said they'd be there in a couple of hours.

When they pulled into visitors' parking at High Point, there was a sign taped to the visitor parking sign that said, "Special Guest, Chelsea Johnson."

Not bad for having just called two hours ago.

A current student showed them around campus, and the Johnsons were pretty impressed by all that they saw.  Valet parking through campus security so one wouldn't have to walk across campus late at night. Beautiful dorms with kitchens and living rooms, not just the cramped bed with a cabinet overhead and a tiny desk at the foot of the bed.   And all the while, close attention by the staff at High Point.

So, did Chelsea go to High Point?

She certainly did.  Not only did she go (and still attends), but she now works at the Department of Wow.  (That's what they call the department that made all those wonderful things happen.)  For her, the wowness of the process sold the school, not the actual product (and I'm sure the educational product at High Point is superior.  The point is that a lot of schools have a superior educational product.  High Point created something that set it apart).

Bruce told us this story to illustrate the importance of creating wow for your customers and clients throughout the process.  Any time you're involved with a prospect or customer, they should be wowed by the process.  Are there things in the process that create UNwow moments for your customers?  If so, get rid of them.  Are there small changes you can make to create absolute WOW moments?  Then implement them.

All well and good, but what really got me about all this, though, is that there's an actual Department of Wow at High Point.  Every company should have a Department of Wow.  What would your Department of Wow do for your prospects and customers?

Even the Dog Cares

I haven't edited my novel since the editing party.  I thought I might edit last Friday, but I didn't, had a funky day, and spent most of Friday recovering.  The funkiness was caused by two things:  being completely overcapacity for the week and planning to edit.  I didn't edit, and it weighed on my mind.  As far as being overcapacity, I hadn't given myself any space to process anything that had happened that week.

I got over the funkiness (my new, positive word for just about completely breaking down), and life improved.

Today I planned on editing.

Funny enough (or is that funky enough?), I was feeling some resistance.  Mainly because last time I edited, the editing itself went fine; it was the aftermath that was hell.  I didn't mind the idea of editing, but I certainly didn't want to have nightmares.

Thankfully, people have been reaching out to me often.  Chris called in between appointments to see how I was doing because he knew I planned on editing today.  Vicky called to check in and tell me she loved me.  Lee, even though she's incredibly busy, invited me to a quick lunch tomorrow.  Antonette and Stacy call, e-mail, and IM me all the time.  Sandra tells me that she'll take a bullet for me.  (Sandra, I don't think it will come to that.  I hope.)  I know others out there support and love me.

The unexpected check-in?  Samwise stayed as close to me as he possibly could the whole time I was editing.  He would normally be in the same room with me, lying in the sun or on his bed.  Today, though, he was shoved as close to my red editing chair as he could get.  No sun or dog bed in sight.  I pretty much tripped over him when I tried to get up.

It's nice to be loved and supported, and today I don't feel like I'm drowning and alone.  Tonight or tomorrow might be a different story, but for today, I'm okay--thanks to all the humans and canines in my life. 

What Dawn Is Reading Today - 4/30/08

If you're new to Write Well Me, read this to understand why I tell you what I'm reading.  :-)

Since I'd been avoiding blogging, I wasn't keeping you up-to-date with my reading list.  And, when life gets funky, I dash for a book. 

I've read many, many books lately.

The last time I told you what I was reading was back on March 11.  Yikes. Yeah, I've read a few books since then.

Here's what I've read:

• Obsidian Butterfly
• Narcissus In Chains
• Cerulean Sins
• Incubus Dreams
• Micah
• Danse Macabre
• The Harlequin

And I came to the end of the Anita Blake series, until Blood Noir is published this fall.  I swear I was depressed.

Martha Grimes to the rescue with The Deer Leap. After that, it wasn't easy.  From my shelf of unread books, I needed a book that I could fall into and would keep me safe.  I had already read Poison Study, and I had its sequel, Magic Study, still unread.  I had enjoyed Poison Study quite a bit, and I knew it would give me that instant book blanket I needed:  suspenseful plot, great characters, and a need to keep reading.  I finished Poison Study in a day, and now it's on to Magic Study.  And I won't get too depressed when I'm done with Magic Study, as evidently there's a third in the series, Fire Study.  Sometimes, it pays not to read everything on one's unread shelf.

From now on, I'll try to keep up-to-date.

Editing, Parties, and Nightmares

You may have noticed that I haven't blogged much lately.  I've been dreading it, mainly because of this post.  (I get that I don't have to write something if I don't want to, but I feel as if I have to.  Just hang with me a bit here.)

I finished the first draft of my novel back in March.  I was thrilled to be done, but I wasn't looking forward to the editing.  I gave myself until June and backed away, far away, from my writing and my book.

As time has inched by, I've grown less scared of editing.  I've been thinking about various pieces of my book and changes I might need to make.  I've actually been looking forward, in part, to editing.

Still, this book is scary.  I've written Isabel's story about a rotten childhood, and revisiting that childhood is one of the most unpleasant activities I've contemplated undertaking.  But the book won't edit itself, and even a paid editor is going to come back to me and say, "Um, Dawn?  You're gonna have to rewrite this part."  Plus, me being the excellence fanatic that I am, I won't be satisfied unless I know it's written as well as it can be, and that means me polishing a rough first draft.

But it doesn't mean I have to do it alone.  Smart Dawn. I'm circling my wagons now when I might need help rather than when I've figured out the wolves' howls are close, and the wagons are in danger.  I've told people about my book and my fears.  I've asked friends to check on me.  I've told people I might need help.

Smartest move?  I had an editing party.  I invited Stacy, Lee, and Antonette over on Friday for support and lunch.   I laid it all out and told them I was scared, drowning in fear, and that I felt completely alone. They promised to love and keep me safe, and upstairs I went to edit while they stayed downstairs.   One condition of the editing party was that they had to read the first three chapters while I edited so that they could get a sense of the subject matter and what I was dealing with.

For me, the editing went fine.  I started just reading, and I made notes to go back later and make changes.  I got through about 50 pages, and I went downstairs.   

Back together, we talked about what they had read, their reactions, their love, their questions (you don't often get the chance to ask the author what she meant by that or if this was really true).  We ate lunch, and I got to play hostess, a role I adore.

It was a great day.  The editing went smoothly.  My friends circled around me.  Life was good.

Until that night.

My subconscious decided to deal with all I hadn't been dealing with during the day, and I had horrible nightmares.  Saturday set me back badly, and I wouldn't let Chris leave my side. We'd had a date planned, and I couldn't stomach the idea of a movie.  Something about sitting in a dark theater with only my thoughts to keep me company (yes, Chris would be next to me, but he'd be watching the movie) wasn't sounding pleasant.  So we went to New York J&P for dinner and then went shopping.  Fairly safe activities.

I got through it, and I've had a good couple of days.  Last night I slept well.

The book is still there, though.  It's Tuesday, and I haven't gone back to editing.  With the way my schedule this week, probably Friday.  Anyone up for a party?

The Show Must Go On

I'm watching the Freddy Mercury Tribute Concert on DVD, and chills run up my body as "The Show Must Go On" plays.  It's one of my favorite songs of all times, and my second favorite Queen song (first is "Somebody to Love"). 

It feels especially meaningful to me with what I've been going through with my writing and editing (more on that tomorrow).

Here's to all of us who try to climb out of empty spaces and abandoned places.

    Empty spaces - what are we living for
    Abandoned places - I guess we know the score
    On and on, does anybody know what we are looking for...

    Another hero, another mindless crime
    Behind the curtain, in the pantomime
    Hold the line, does anybody want to take it anymore
    The show must go on,
    The show must go on
    Inside my heart is breaking
    My make-up may be flaking
    But my smile still stays on.

    Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance
    Another heartache, another failed romance
    On and on, does anybody know what we are living for?
    I guess I'm learning, I must be warmer now
    I'll soon be turning, round the corner now
    Outside the dawn is breaking
    But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free

    The show must go on
    The show must go on
    Inside my heart is breaking
    My make-up may be flaking
    But my smile still stays on

    My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies
    Fairytales of yesterday will grow but never die
    I can fly - my friends

    The show must go on
    The show must go on
    I'll face it with a grin
    I'm never giving in
    On - with the show -

    I'll top the bill, I'll overkill
    I have to find the will to carry on
    On with the -
    On with the show -

    The show must go on...

On the Fringe

I've been giving a lot of thought to Laurell's idea about being a fringe animal.  I've always felt on the fringe and as if I didn't quite belong.  And even though I have friends who accept me for who I am in all my fringeness, I still don't feel that I belong to any one group.  And while I get that that may not be possible (finding one group where I feel completely at home), it's something that I've been dealing with - this sadness at not feeling a part of the herd.

I thought about that more.  It's not necessarily that I want that sameness of being in a herd of like animals.  It's that I want to feel protected, loved, and safe.  And I imagine that that is what one gets when one is part of a herd.  It goes back to the 5% thing Stacy and I talked about.  Here's what I commented on her blog about what my 5% is:

My sad 5% life thing is that I never had a mother who truly embodies what a mother should be: caring, loving, selfless, and willing to put her needs aside for the very real survival needs of her children.

I'll never have that, and there are times when it crops up so badly that all I want is a mom to hold me, stroke my hair, tell me it will all be okay, and that she'll take care of me.

I've never had it, and I never will have it. While there are people who, briefly, fulfill that mom role for me, it's never absolute and complete.

It's 5% because I have a really great life. I have an incredible husband who loves and respects me, the two best daughters on the face of the earth, a few intense friends, a company I love, a house that provides comfort and sanctuary... the list goes on.

I just don't have the mother I want.

And so we're back to the fringe.  That need to be safe, loved, and protected is with me now.  It's one of my basic needs.  If we were talking about Maslow's hierarchy of needs, my personal need pyramid would include "to be safe, loved, and protected" at the very bottom, the most basic, the most core.

Lately, I often feel on the fringe, so that unmet need cries out even more.  I know much of it comes down to my book.  I'm afraid of so many things on so many levels where that book, and writing, are concerned.  And, yet, with all the fringeness and unmet needs, I still feel I'm on the right path.  It's just hard, and lately it hurts.

To Recreate

From another old Laurell blog entry:

Recreation means to re-create yourself.

I'd never thought of it that way.  Next time, I'm recreating, I'll think about how, if at all, it's re-creating me.  How am I changing?  How am I growing?

What are your thoughts? Do you see a connection between recreation and re-create?  (I, like Laurell, hyphenate the word to differentiate between the act of creating again and having fun.)

To Being on the Fringe

Last night I found Laurell K. Hamilton's blog.  You'd think, since I've been obsessively reading Anita Blake books faster than my fingers can turn the pages, that I knew she had a blog.  Since I finished the last Anita Blake book (I have a been a very bad Dawn and not posting what I've been reading), I've come up for air.

I could start her Meredith Gentry series, and I probably will, but there's another investment in time and money, and my family kinda misses me.  (By the way, I had written "...and I might" and changed it to "... and I probably will.")

So I found her blog last night by way of Amazon.  I quickly moved from the Amazon posting to the actual blog site, and, lo and behold, Laurell has been blogging since 2003.  And I'm reading every single post.  I'm only up to January 2004, but I'm devouring every word.

A few notes

• I feel somewhat obsessed.  I adore her Anita Blake series, and I'm fascinated by the glimpses into her personal life.
• I feel slightly intimidated by her as a writer.  Not because I suck, but because she is so intense.  I love intense, but I'm not at that place yet with my writing.  And maybe I never will be.  I'm not one to just do one thing.  I like variety.  Could I hole up and write book after book after book?  I don't know.  Would I want to?  I don't know.  But there is definitely something about that those who can and do that makes me feel slightly small.
• I wish I could meet Laurell.  From what I know, she sounds like someone I'd like and could connect with.

Here's one piece I wanted to share.  It's very long, but there's no other way to link to just one entry in her monthly archives. 

Richard [a character in the Anita Blake series] is that part of me that hated myself. That part that wanted to be "normal". That part that didn't want to think differently from the vast majority of people on this planet. That part of me that really did cling to the life my up-bringing told me I was 'supposed' to have. I spent a lot of my adult life arguing with myself. Not wanting to like what I liked, enjoy what I enjoyed, or be fascinated by what fascinated me. Not wanting to embrace myself, accept myself. Wanting to reject everything that made me comfortable in my own skin, in my own head, in my own self. Richard is that part of me that is still fighting the good fight. Still trying to pound himself into a square hole, when he is so a round peg. That's why part of me hates Richard, because I still hate that part of myself. It's also why I love Richard, because I've been there, fought the fight, lost the war, and there's no t-shirt, no medal. In the end is only the knowledge of who you are, what you are, and that the things that make you happy aren't evil. You aren't evil for wanting them. And the only person that can stand in judgment of you, is the people you allow to stand in judgment of you. Don't give them that power over you. Don't accept it. Be who you are. I went through therapy to find myself, and not to hate or be ashamed of what and who I am. Richard is at the beginning of his therapy, and that is a frightening, painful place to be. I do not envy him the journey, but I know the destination is worth it, because I'm there. I'm happy. Not only do I embrace who I am, but I get paid good money for some of my 'strange' ideas. The very things that made junior high hell, and high school not my best thing, and made me an outsider during college, and hell, an outsider at every parent meeting, or herd event. I finally realized that I'm not a herd animal. I'm the animal on the fringes watching the herd, and thinking, hmm, did that one limp? Predator sometimes. Sometimes I'm the animal in the tree trying to figure out how to shove a stick in a hole and get the termites out, while the herd passes under that tree. I have friends, and they are my pack, my group, but all my close friends share that odd way of looking at the world. We are the fringe animals, not the ones in the middle following the crowd. And that's okay, it's okay to be the predator, or the monkey in the tree trying to invent a new way of doing something.

From January, 2004, monthly archive.

Following the Energy

Over the last few months, I've been very aware of my energy.  Some days I have so much energy that I'm almost manic.  I create, do routine tasks, keep on top of stuff, clear out my inboxes, and look around for more.  Other days, the idea of making a simple phone call is enough to send me back to bed.

As an organizational zealot and a maximizer, I much prefer the high energy days. 

I've found that there's nothing I can do about the low energy cycles.  I just ride it out and try to be gentle with myself.  I also know that, since it is a cycle, the high energy will come back.  I can't possibly sustain that level of energy, so it makes sense that there are periods of low energy to balance it out.

I've found three ways in particular that help me deal with, and get things done (I do have a business or two to run!), during my low energy cycle:

1. Follow the energy.  If I feel like drinking tea and reading, I do exactly that.  Forcing myself to work makes me miserable, and my work output is pitiful.
2. Do the absolute basics.  If I have two e-mails to send and one phone call to make, I do those right away.  Then the rest of the day can be sent following the advice in #1.
3. Remember that it's only temporary.

I thought at one point that it might be easier, and more balanced, if I just maintained one level of energy:  creative, yet not manic.  Productive, yet not wired.  Well, that might be easier and more balanced, but I don't know how to force that.  And, personally, I love the times when I'm high energy.  It's fun, and it fits in so well with my perky personality. 

It's a lot like how I've struggled with BEing over DOing.  I BE with the energy, whatever it is.  (Sorry for the odd wording.)