Monday, July 15, 2013

Giddiness is usually a bad sign

You’re in the middle of writing something, and for a few minutes you’ve been stalled. You’re searching for the right word to make a point. Eventually you think of it. You double-check it in the dictionary. Yes, it’s precisely the right word.

When this happens, you normally feel a quiet little satisfaction, as when you balance your checkbook on the first try.

But sometimes it’s different. Sometimes it’s like this:

You’re in the middle of writing something, and you need a word. Within seconds, it comes to you, strong. You don’t check it in the dictionary. You feel that you don’t have to. The word just seems wonderfully right somehow. Here’s an example.

When this happens, you normally feel giddy. Giddiness is usually a sign that you have lunged at the first fad word (massively overused cliche) that came to you. For example, proactive.

We lunge at fad words because we want to conform. We want to conform more than we want to find the right words to make ourselves clear. We want to conform because the cave-man part of our brain is always afraid that the other members of our tribe will throw us out of the cave and leave us to die if we appear to be different from them in any way. So when see an opportunity to publicly display our mindless conformity, we lunge at that opportunity.* We feel giddy because we believe we have escaped death for a little while longer.

Fortunately we are no longer cave men. We don’t need to mindlessly conform any more. We can search for the right words and make ourselves clear. We can be grown-ups. We can be writers.

The Takeaway: Giddiness is usually a sign that you are about to do something embarrassing. If you ever notice that you are feeling giddy because you have suddenly thought of an especially wonderful word to make a point, STOP. Immediately Google the word with “cliche.” Example: “proactive cliche.” You will probably find that the word is a massively overused cliche (also called a fad word or mantra). Look up the word in a dictionary; it is possible that the word does not help make your point at all. It may even undermine your point. Delete it and find the right word.

*For an example of a public display of mindless conformity, see this post. For an example of a sales representative whose cliche revealed his ignorance and risked blowing a big sale, see this post.

See disclaimer.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Yes, you can ignore grammar. However...

Many people wonder why they need to know their grammar: They ask, “Can’t I just write the way I like and not have to worry about a bunch of grammar rules?”

That’s a fair question. Here are my short and long answers:

Short Answer: Of course you have the right to write any way you like. However, your readers have the right to refuse to read what you write.*

Long Answer: Most of your readers – especially the smarter ones – know the rules of grammar. They assume that you know the rules, too, and that you are at least generally following the rules. So, when they notice that you are not following the rules, they conclude that reading your writing will always be more difficult than reading the writing of the millions of writers who do follow the rules. Your readers may even conclude that you routinely treat information as carelessly as you treat grammar, and therefore that you are an unreliable person. And they are likely to decide never to read anything else that has your name on it.**

Grammar is not just a bunch of rules; it is a description of how our readers think and read. Therefore it is a description of how we need to write – if we want to hold their attention and gain their trust.

The Takeaway: Yes, you can “break the rules” of grammar all you want; just don’t expect your readers to trust you. If you want to be taken seriously, write like a serious adult, not like a willful child who refused to learn the structure of his own language.

See disclaimer.

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*Unless they are a captive audience; for example, if they are your employees or students.

**For example, I refuse to read the writing of hundreds of grammatically incompetent reporters, novelists, nonfiction writers, academics, consultants and columnists – except when I’m looking for samples of careless writing to analyze on this blog.


Monday, July 8, 2013

Know your audience (1) – the Sokal affair

To meet the objective of whatever you are writing, you must know your audience. It’s a cliche but it’s true. Let’s take a look at an extraordinary example. It involve questionable morals, but it illustrates the point.

This is an excerpt of the Wikipedia entry for the Sokal affair:

“The Sokal affair, also known as the Sokal hoax, was a publishing hoax perpetrated by Alan Sokal, a physics professor at New York University. In 1996, Sokal submitted an article to Social Text, an academic journal of postmodern cultural studies. In subsequent publications, Sokal claimed that the submission was an experiment to test the journal’s intellectual rigor and, specifically, to investigate whether ‘a leading North American journal of cultural studies – whose editorial collective includes such luminaries as Fredric Jameson and Andrew Ross – [would] publish an article liberally salted with nonsense if (a) it sounded good and (b) it flattered the editors’ ideological preconceptions?’

...

“The article, ‘Transgressing the Boundaries: Towards a Transformative Hermeneutics of Quantum Gravity,’ published in the Social Text Spring/Summer 1996 ‘Science Wars’ issue, proposed that quantum gravity is a social and linguistic construct.

“On its date of publication (May 1996), Sokal revealed in Lingua Franca that the article was a hoax, identifying it as ‘a pastiche of left-wing cant, fawning references, grandiose quotations, and outright nonsense... structured around the silliest quotations [by postmodernist academics] he could find about mathematics and physics.’ ” (Footnotes and several links omitted.)

I do not condone the perpetration of hoaxes, and I assume that your writing objectives are ethical. However, let us admire Mr. Sokal’s ability to precisely determine the interests and desires of a target audience. His hoax worked because he gave his audience what they wanted: “left-wing cant, fawning references, grandiose quotations, and outright nonsense.”

The Takeaway: Whenever you write something for a new audience, study that audience carefully. Don’t just spend a few minutes musing; dig in and do the research. Read things they like; listen to speeches and watch videos that have persuaded them; read what they write, and so on. Diligent research will dramatically increase your chances of achieving your objective.

See disclaimer.

*In the Lingua Franca article, Mr. Sokal wisecracked, “Anyone who believes that the laws of physics are mere social conventions is invited to try transgressing those conventions from the windows of my apartment. (I live on the twenty-first floor.)”

Thursday, July 4, 2013

A few amusing examples of mixed metaphors (15)

Mixed metaphors can be amusing. However, we writers are usually more interested in informing and persuading our readers than in amusing them. Mixed metaphors may distract our readers and impede information and persuasion.

Example

“The president finishes speaking. He closes with a doozie of a mixed metaphor: ‘We’ve got more to do around here... than to try to dig ourselves out of these self-inflicted wounds.’ ” (Source)

Example

“That political cover is now thrown into [the] dustbin of history parked outside the archives of prejudice, collecting its rhetorical trash.” (Source) Thanks to Paul G. Henning for spotting this.

Example

“Fortunately, a wise person once told me that when you get your shot in life, you have to pull out all stops and go for it.  The door closes very quickly once you’re out of the limelight.” (Source)

Example

“Let me get this mixed metaphor out of the way first: the team of commentators for the Indian Premier League did a grand job of sweeping the elephant in the room under the carpet.” (Source)

The Takeaway: Mixed metaphors can distract your readers. In some cases, they make your prose impossible to understand. Ideally, you should have someone edit your copy, because it is difficult to spot your own mixed metaphors.

See disclaimer.


Monday, July 1, 2013

Gibberish (2)

Learn to recognize gibberish (unintelligible or nonsensical speech or writing) so you won’t fall into the habit of imitating it. Here’s an example of gibberish; it’s the beginning of an essay by an anonymous writer:

How Life Is Prolonged

Did you know that having the awareness of good and evil is a distinguishing characteristic of mankind? Yes, it is a form of awareness that separates humanity from other living creatures: animals, birds, and bugs.
The writer learned about this kind of awareness from Richard W. Wetherill who had identified a created natural law he called the law of absolute right. It specifies people’s behavior to be rational and honest in order to be safe and to succeed.

Analysis

These two short paragraphs prompt the reader to silently ask several questions:

Why has the writer remained anonymous? Why has the writer not told the reader who Richard W. Wetherill is or was? Is the writer really Mr. Wetherill, secretly pimping for himself?

If “the awareness of good and evil is a distinguishing characteristic of mankind,” why didn’t the writer possess this characteristic since childhood? Why did he have to wait until he met Mr. Wetherill?

How is a “created natural law” different from a natural law? Isn’t “created natural law” an oxymoron?

Is the specific “created natural law” that Mr. Wetherill identified the same as or different from the awareness of good and evil?

Why did Mr. Wetherill call this law “the law of absolute right?” What is absolute right?

What was the writer trying to hide when he made the vague, ungrammatical statement, “It specifies people’s behavior to be rational and honest in order to be safe and to succeed,” instead of making a clear statement of the law? For example, in contrast, Magna Carta contains laws like this: “No widow shall be compelled to marry, so long as she prefers to live without a husband.” That’s eight centuries old, but it is still clear.

The rest of the essay is also gibberish. It does not answer any of my questions; indeed it raises more. I will stop here and spare you more analysis; read the whole essay if you wish.

The Takeaway: Much of the language we see in print or on the Internet is gibberish. Be wary of gibberish; it is seductive and addictive because it requires no effort and appears to say something.

See disclaimer.