Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Thursday, November 15, 2012

So You Want to Be a Writer

...who gets paid to write. If you're interested in becoming a contributor (specifically to my magazine), these are some of the things you have to keep in mind:

1. Know how to write! There are "writers" who don't seem to know the difference between its and it's, every day and everyday, should have and the abominable should of (cringe). There are those who use one word over and over, and those who hit shift+F7 every sentence. (You may think you're so smart for using such big words but, trust me, people can tell when you're dissimulating it.-> See what I did there?) And then there are those who use my pet peeve: dangling modifiers. 

If you want to write professionally, you first need to know the rules. And basic grammar! And it helps to know your idioms. Since Filipinos aren't native English speakers, that's where a lot of us stumble. (And while we're on the topic: It's result in, not result to.)

So many people fancy themselves the writer, but really, it's not just about putting sentences together. I feel slightly peeved whenever someone assumes that it's easy. Case in point, a recent conversation...

X: I want to make money out of writing. How do I start?
Me: Hmm. You have to put a portfolio together, then maybe try submitting your work to editors. Although as an editor, I tend to favor those with previously published work.
X: I'm a [insert another profession here], so it should be easy for me.
Me: ...

I'm not saying that I would make a good [X's profession here] any more than this person would make a good writer. But I feel that what I do, what people in my industry do, deserves some respect. Writing isn't easy. (It could be. Sometimes.) It's hard work. Answering essay questions when you were in school doesn't automatically make you a writer. You need to hone the skill, and you need to develop an ear for it—I know that sounds odd, but there has to be some sort of melody and harmony when you put words together. And that's not something you can just do on a whim.

2. Follow the brief. So what happens when an editor is impressed enough with your writing samples to give you an assignment? Unless he or she tells you that you can go nuts and give it whatever treatment you want, stick to the brief. I always send my contributors very detailed briefs, which include the topic, questions I want answered, tone, word count, even the references I would like to see ("Interview at least two financial experts"). I send pegs for format and tone. Sometimes I can't help myself and even suggest a rough outline, because I do not like surprises when it comes to assignments—I don't like getting submissions that are way off the mark. But it happens. I don't know how, but it happens. And then it's a whole big back-and-forth between me and the contrib or, if there's no time, a big rehash job for me. Or if there's really no time, we suddenly have to go in a direction I'm not happy with because the contrib couldn't follow a simple brief. If you MUST go a different direction for whatever reason, discuss it with your editor as soon as you can.

You have to understand that briefs are there for a reason. The topic is well-thought-out, something the editorial team brainstormed about. The concept has been discussed by the section editor and the art director, so there's a planned layout already, with earmarked space for text. Your assignment is also part of a bigger picture--I like to have a mix of different formats (lengthy features; piece-y, tip-filled articles; image-heavy stories), and when you don't follow the brief, sometimes those plans go awry, causing discord in a perfectly planned issue. Things like word count aren't a mere suggestion or a random number pulled out of nowhere. I've had to edit a 4,000-word article down to the 2,000 words indicated in the brief. Conversely, I've had to turn a 350-word "article" (which looked more like an outline) into something with the required 1,000 words.

I paid the writer 35% of the fee. 

Follow the damn brief.  

3. Do your research. When you write for a publication, make sure that you get your info from experts in the field or books written by credible authors—not from Wikipedia. I once read an advice column in a local magazine (not Summit!), and all the answers were culled from various websites. Que horror! The readers might as well have Googled the answers to their questions themselves!

It annoys me no end when I read an article that quotes heavily from websites. I've had to include "no websites as reference please" in the briefs I send out, because in this day and age, people have just gotten so used to firing up the search engine whenever they need info. When you write something for a publication, you have to make sure that the info you give is more than something a quick search will yield. Talk to actual people. Ask questions that the basic About.com post doesn't cover. Refer to good books (and attribute!). It's about giving your article the kind of value that a Google-able story doesn't give.

4. Edit yourself. In your haste to submit an article, you may skip a very valuable part of the process: re-reading and refining. I can tell when something was thrown together at the last minute. The misspelled words (and spell check is a standard feature!), the incohesiveness, the lack of a logical flow... Learn to edit yourself--and allow for time to do so. An error-laden submission tells me that you didn't really put that much time and effort into the assignment. Which brings me to...

5. Make a good impression. It's about meeting deadlines. It's about submitting quality work. I've had contributors give me all sorts of excuses for not meeting the deadline. I've had contributors submit something that's so far from what was discussed. (See #2.) I've had contributors suddenly back out of an assignment. 

I have had them blacklisted. Or, at least, I avoid getting them if I can.

We have deadlines for a reason. Sometimes, the lateness can be justified, and I really do try to understand, especially if it's a one-off and the contrib has proven to be generally reliable. But if you're a first-time contrib and you submit late, you can bet that you won't be hearing from me again. Here I am, giving you a chance to get your work published (an opportunity you tell me you're very grateful for), and you blow it. What's up with that? And what makes you think I'll subject myself to that again?

Deadlines are sacred to us because we run on a schedule that involves editing text, laying it out, turning it over to production, proofing, and printing. The entire process is delayed the minute you submit late. And that makes me cranky. It also makes me feel somewhat disrespected--we had an agreement, and you didn't fulfill your end of the bargain.

Editors talk to each other. When looking for new contribs, I ask others for recommendations, and what they thought of certain contribs. You don't want to be branded as a flaker, or someone who submits shoddy work, or someone who's hit and miss. That's how you lose jobs. If you intend to make a career out of writing, you have to be that person we gush about, and that only happens when you consistently turn in good work, on time.

That being said, I think it's difficult to find writers nowadays who have that awesome combination of talent and a good work ethic. I know a few, but they're the ones who get a truckload of other writing jobs (precisely because of skill + work ethic), so they don't always have time to accept every assignment. If you feel that you've got what it takes, you might want to give it a shot. Leave a comment with your email address, and I'll let you know where you can send me your writing samples.:)

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

On Writing Well

I promised that I would write a bit more about William Zinsser's On Writing Well, a book I read a couple of months ago. I intended to include the parts that struck me the most in each chapter. I got as far as Chapter 10 before I had to return the book to the office library. Meh. But I think these are enough to convince any writer to read the book.

PART I: PRINCIPLES
Chapter 1: The Transaction
“Good writing has an aliveness that keeps the reader reading from one paragraph to the next, and it’s not a question of gimmicks to ‘personalize’ the author. It’s a question of using the English language in a way that will achieve the greatest clarity and strength.”

Chapter 2: Simplicity
“…the secret of good writing is to strip every sentence to its cleanest components. Every word that serves no function, every long word that could be a short word, every adverb that carries the same meaning that’s already in the verb, every passive construction that leaves the reader unsure of who is doing what—these are the thousand and one adulterants that weaken the strength of a sentence.”

Chapter 3: Clutter
“Take the adjective ‘personal,' as in ‘a personal friend of mine,’ ‘his personal feeling’ or ‘her personal physician.’ It’s typical of hundreds of words that can be eliminated. The personal friend has come in to the language to distinguish him or her from the business friend, thereby debasing both language and friendship. As for the personal physician, that’s the man or woman summoned to the dressing room of a stricken actress so she won’t have to be treated by an impersonal physician assigned to the theater. Someday I’d like to see that person identified as ‘her doctor.’ Physicians are physicians, friends are friends. The rest is clutter.”

“Is there any way to recognize clutter at a glance? Here’s a device my students at Yale found helpful. I would put brackets around every component in a piece of writing that wasn’t doing useful work. Often just one word got bracketed: the unnecessary preposition appended to a verb (‘order up’), or the adverb that carries the same meaning as the verb (‘smile happily’), or the adjective that states a known fact (‘tall skyscraper’).”

Chapter 4: Style
“…you will be impatient to find a ‘style'—to embellish the plain words so that readers will recognize you as someone special. You will reach for gaudy similes and tinseled adjectives, as if ‘style’ were something you could buy at the style store and drape onto your words in bright decorator colors. (Decorator colors are the colors that decorators come in.) There is no style store; style is organic to the person doing the writing, as much a part of him as his hair, or, if he is bald, his lack of it. Trying to add style is like adding a toupee. At first glance the formerly bald man looks young and even handsome. But at second glance—and with a toupee there’s always a second glance—he doesn’t look quite right. The problem is not that he doesn’t look well groomed; he does, and we can only admire the wigmaker’s skill. The point is that he doesn’t look like himself.”

Chapter 5: The Audience
“‘Who am I writing for?’

“It’s a fundamental question, and it has a fundamental answer: You are writing for yourself.”

Chapter 6: Words
“What is ‘journalese’? It’s a quilt of instant words patched together out of other parts of speech. Adjectives are used as nouns (‘greats,’ ‘notables’). Nouns are used as verbs (‘to host’), or they are chopped off to form verbs (‘enthuse,’ ‘emote’), or they are padded to form verbs (‘beef up,’ ‘put teeth into’). This is a world where eminent people are ‘famed’ and their associates are ‘staffers,’ where the future is always ‘upcoming’ and someone is forever ‘firing off’ a note. Nobody in America has sent a note or a memo or a telegram in years. Famed diplomat Condoleeza Rice, who hosts foreign notables to beef up morale of top State Department staffers, sits down and fires off a lot of notes. Notes that are fired off are always fired in anger and from a sitting position. What the weapon is I’ve never found.”

Chapter 7: Usage
“…Guardians of usage are doing only half their job if they merely keep the language from becoming sloppy. Any dolt can rule that the suffix ‘wise,’ as in ‘healthwise,’ is doltwise, or that being ‘rather unique’ is no more possible than being rather pregnant. The other half of the job is to help the language grow by welcoming any immigrant that will bring strength or color.”

PART II: METHODS
Chapter 8: Unity
“…every successful piece of nonfiction should leave the reader with one provocative thought that he or she didn’t have before. Not two thoughts, or five—just one.”

Chapter 9: The Lead and the Ending
“The most important sentence in any article is the first one. If it doesn’t induce the reader to proceed to the second sentence, your article is dead.”

“The perfect ending should take your readers slightly by surprise and yet seem exactly right.”

Chapter 10: Bits & Pieces
“Most adverbs are unnecessary. You will clutter your sentence and annoy the reader if you choose a verb that has a specific meaning and then add an adverb that carries the same meaning. Don’t tell us that the radio blared loudly; ‘blare’ connotes loudness. Don’t write that someone clenched his teeth tightly; there’s no other way to clench teeth.”

“There’s not much to be said about the period except that most writers don’t reach it soon enough.”

“Rewriting is the essence of writing well: it’s where the game is won or lost.”