Reader News

Since I began blogging, I've come to appreciate how difficult it is to attract readers and earn their attention. Anyway, Deb, one of the readers I've been lucky enough to have at this blog, has just achieved a downright impressive accomplishment, so I wanted to share.

Deb, who is Deborah Diesen, has a children's picture book, "The Pout-Pout Fish," and it just made the NY Times picture book best seller list: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/07/books/bestseller/bestchildren.html

Congratulations, Deb!

One That Almost Got Away (A copy editing tale)

Came across this sentence in a story I was editing. It was a quotation.

"Separating out the variables quickly clarifies to job hunters concerned about earning power [and] which fields pay most."

It contains a mistake that got past a wire editor, then a section editor. It got past me. It got printed on a proof page. Then I looked at it on paper and that's when I finally saw the mistake.

Breaking down the sentence:

Subject: separating out the variables
Verb: clarifies
Prepositional phrase: to job hunters concerned about earning power
Object of verb: which fields pay most

The writer inserted "and" because she thought that "which fields pay most" was part of the prepositional phrase — something job hunters are concerned about. Seeing it on paper and without the benefit of hearing the speaker's intonations, she didn't see that the speaker meant it as the object of the verb. The speaker meant that the act of separating "clarifies which fields pay most."

The mistake is the inserted "and."

The long prepositional phrase inserted after "clarifies" threw the writer and me and at least two other editors. So it just goes to show you ...

Well, I don't know what it goes to show you. But, whatever it is, I hope it made reading this worth your time.

Words influence people. Not us. Other people.

No one is affected by advertising. No one. Just walk up to anyone in the street and ask ’em:

You: See that Coca-Cola billboard right there? Does that make you more
inclined to buy Coke?

Random Stranger: No.

You: But what about the pretty girl in the billboard? Surely her wholesome, toothy smile is
giving you a warm fuzzy feeling that’s making you thirsty.

Random Stranger: Not at all. Advertising doesn’t affect me.

You: But it says right there, ‘Have a Coke and a smile.’ How can you resist such a persuasive imperative?

Random Stranger: I suppose I’m just smarter and stronger willed and more
independent and more savvy than everyone else in the country.

You: I see. Say, what about that 976-SLE-Z-GIRLS billboard over there? That one have any effect?

Random Stranger: (Grabbing pen and writing down number on own forearm.) None in the slightest.

I’ve always been baffled by advertising. Especially the mathematics of it. I remember being a little kid – old enough to know that TV commercials cost big money – and being unable reconcile the numbers.

I asked my mom something like: “So people see a commercial that says Windex is new and improved and millions run out and buy it and that more than makes up for the cost of the commercial? That many people who weren’t going to buy Windex go and buy it because it’s supposed to be a little better?” (Mom: "Go play in traffic under that Coca-Cola billboard.")

Then, sometime after, I started to think about all the advertising to sell advertising -- the television spots trying to get you to watch television shows, the billboards trying to get you to listen to radio programs. It’s like a pyramid:

1. One hundred thousand motorists see a billboard for the KWZZ “Morning Zoo”
2. For a fraction of them, one in sayten (a number I just made up because I have no idea what the real number is), the billboard is just what they needed to nudge them over the edge of deciding to listen to the radio station.
3. Of those one in sayten, one in sayten hear a commercial for Hennessy’s.
4. Of those, one in sayten run out and buy Hennessy’s.
5. That’s about a hundred bottles of Hennessy’s, which, after manufacturing, distribution, overhead, lawyers, and advertising costs, Hennessy’s makes saytwo bucks a bottle (total $200).
6. One in sayten of these dollars go to KWZZ (total $20).
7. One in sayten of those dollars go to the billboard company ($2).

Yeah, yeah, I know: Those ad dollars also buy brand recognition, which has greater, longer-lasting value. And, yeah, yeah, I know: Clearly my math and logic demonstrate that I don’t know jack about how it really works. And, yeah, yeah, I know that if it didn’t work, nobody would do it. Still, I can’t wrap my head around it.

And if you think that’s stupid of me, consider this: Advertising has been my sole means of support for about ten of the last twelve years (much of which I spent working at newspapers). Advertising bought our house. My husband’s in the business, too – the most mathematically unlikely aspect of it. He’s an editor for a company that makes TV promos. Here’s his most famous:



(I’m very proud! A shorter version ran during the Super Bowl two years ago, and he won an award for it.)

Anyway, the reason all this advertising stuff is on my unable-to-grasp-it, bite-the-hand-that-feeds-me mind has to do with the presidential campaign and the convention. Specifically, I’m flabbergasted by the nature of punditry. We watch a convention speech and then the pundits “analyze” the speech and then we go to our little jobs and where we offer to co-workers our own brilliant analysis the speech and how it will affect others.

But none of us are affected ourselves.

We’re all above it. Too smart. We sit in judgment, but we’re above being judged. We analyze, but we’re too clever to be the subject of another’s analysis. It’s downright freaky.

Somewhere out there is person who saw an ad for “new and improved” Windex and immediately ran out to buy some, burning rubber and exceeding the speed limit and endangering countless squirrels and pedestrians in his red-hot haste to get his hands on this amazing new product.

Still, it’s smarter than listening to Joe Scarborough.

(Unrelated note: I chose to treat “one in ten” and some instances of “none” as plurals. It was a choice, not a boo-boo. So don’t yell at me. Have a Coke and a smile instead. Or, if you really think I deserve to be yelled out, go to Scarborough country.)

Dangler, Cliche du Jour

Dangler* du Jour: "Themed 'Where the Wild Things Are,' kids can have fun in this interactive animal exhibit."

Better: "Themed 'Where the Wild Things Are,' this interactive animal exhibit is a fun place for kids."

Cliche du Jour: "She's like a bad boomerang. She just keeps coming back."

Better:

No, that white space isn't a mistake.

(*Procured while copy editing. As always, the actual words are changed to protect the innocent. As always, "the innocent" means me.)

Wonderings and Googlings (Wherein I wonder about words, then I Google them)

I hate grammar = 4,640 hits

I love grammar = 7,770 hits

I hate grammer = 909 hits

I love grammer = 263 hits

I love grammer -kelsey = 248 hits

Sap-iversary

Yesterday, I began reading a book by the celebrated linguist Steven Pinker. I wanted to be him, or something like him. A brilliant scholar. A Harvard heavyweight. I felt the need to scramble to catch up. Maybe … just maybe.

The day before yesterday, I was reading Cormac McCarthy. I wanted to be him, or something like him. How much writing do you have to do before you can make words dance for you like that? Is there still time for me to catch up? I hoped so.

The day before that, I read a little about Simpsons show runner Al Jean. Man, do I want to be him or something like him. I won quarterfinalist in a script-writing contest some years ago with my Simpsons spec script. Who am I kidding? That’s a crazy-tough business and you have to get in young. Still …

In late June, I performed standup comedy as an opening act for Paula Poundstone. It was a lifelong dream. Back in college I once vowed I would take a stab at a local open mike night someone had told me about. I never followed through. Poundstone’s had some troubles I wouldn’t wish on anyone. No rational person would ever want to be her. Still, watching some old clips on YouTube, I couldn’t help but wonder.

A few weeks ago, I saw some old photos of Brigitte Bardot. Man, do I want to be a once-upon-a-time her. I know she didn’t turn out too glamorous. But the longing affixed to a 1970s photo doesn’t care. Surgeries are much better these days. Diets. Chemical peels and rhinoplasty. Maybe …

A week or two before that, I watched a special about the Mars rover and the men and women at JPL, just a few miles from my house, who against insane odds landed a rover on Mars and subsequently proved there is water on that planet. Has that door slammed shut on me? Of course. Don’t be ridiculous. (Still …)

On August 23, 1986, twenty-two years ago today, I took my last drink. It ended seven years of blackout drinking and wrecked cars and early-stage DTs. It began a struggle I wouldn’t have undertaken had I known what I signed on for.

Today, I don’t want to be Pinker or McCarthy or Jean or Pounstone or Bardot or the most accomplished JPL scientist of the bunch. Today accomplishment is not an elusive wisp. It’s rock solid.

Today what I am is what I am.

What Demon From Hell Hath Brought These Monsters Upon Us? Oh, Yeah, It Was Lynne Truss

This just in:

Two guys have been sentenced to a fine and probation after correcting apostrophes on a historic sign. When asked why, during their multi-state sign-editing spree, they didn't also change the word "emense" to "immense" on the 1930s-era Grand Canyon sign, one remarked: "I was reluctant to disfigure the sign any further."

It's good to see their cross-country rampage was tempered by calm restraint and sound judgment.

Here's the whole story: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/26351328/from/ET/