Showing posts with label Good and bad writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Good and bad writing. Show all posts

Sunday, 1 March 2009

#92 – Make your editor’s life as easy as possible

Or providing no hassle copy

Words of encouragement
I got some good words of encouragement from one of my editors last week. She said: “I love using your work – I very rarely have to change anything.”

Make the editor’s life easy
But aside for that being a nice ego massage for me, it also hints at a good philosophy to work by. Make the editor’s life as easy as possible, and they’re more likely to use you again.

Word count etc
This means getting the word count pretty much spot on, putting the factbox information in the standardised format, doing the requisite currency conversions and perhaps suggesting a headline.

No hassle
All of this is pretty simple to do, and while none of it will be a dealbreaker, the fact that it can go into the paper/ magazine pretty much as is will help your cause in future. It may not be an immediate thing, but after two or three articles, the editor will start thinking: “This contributor is no hassle – great.”

Thursday, 12 February 2009

Example of previous tip

Forgive the arrogance here, but I thought I'd give an example of my point from yesterday's tip. I've pasted below what was my first major piece published in a travel publication. I still think it's one of the best I've ever written. Why? Because I've written about the people at the destination as much as the action itself.

In this instance, the people watching the dolphins were arguably more entertaining than the dolphins were. My piece starts off by focusing on those people, their behaviours and their reactions. To me (and luckily the editor in question), this elevated the piece above the bog standard write up about Monkey Mia.

I hope you agree, and can see the point I'm trying to make.

Feeding the dolphins at Monkey Mia

Amid the cooing and screeches there is, apparently, a dolphin. Yes, that's it. Look between the big man's arm and the woman with the hat's camera. You see it? That little silver flash? In the water, about eleven o'clock?

After about three minutes of tilting your head, squinting, jumping up and down on the sand it finally comes into view. Well, a bit of it does. Could be the head, could be the back, but it's definitely a dolphin, and that's what everybody is here to see.

The fundamental problem with tourist attractions, of course, is that they attract tourists. When that attraction is a couple of tiny marine mammals, there is only so much viewing space. When it's a long day's drive away from Perth and most people have come to see just one thing, then they will fight for that space as if a predator has entered their lair and is trying to eat their children.

Consequently, during the first dolphin feeding session of the morning at Monkey Mia, the main wildlife available for watching is fully clothed and armed to the teeth with photographic equipment.

This is not to say it's not entertaining, however. Where else can you see a 17-stone man with a shaved head attempting to barge his way past a couple of ten-year-olds in order to get closer to the cute little critter?

Then there's the frenetic middle-aged Japanese man, trousers rolled up, who must have completed a marathon by the end of the feeding. He's running from one side of the scrum to the other, up the pier and back again, attempting to get a better shot but too polite to ask anyone to move slightly.

The pod of bottle-nosed dolphins that call Monkey Mia home (or at least their favourite café) has been visiting since the early 1960s. They are quite accustomed to human contact and according to the feeders, actively enjoy it. They are wild and free to eat where they like, but they stop by the beach for breakfast and a frolic in the shallows 99 percent of the time.

In order to ensure that the VIP guests don't become dependent on the beach feeds, the marine biologists and merry volunteers that feed them adhere to strict rules: No feeding after 1pm, no more than three feeds per day and no more than a third of the necessary fish intake. This ensures that the dolphins spend their afternoons doing the things that dolphins have to do, rather than stalking humans.

Whilst the first feed of the day, unless you've bulldozed your way to the front and petulantly snatched the bucket off the member of staff, can be a disappointment, things get much better later on.

Most of the tour buses disappear shortly afterwards, their passengers having got what was in the contract, but perhaps not quite what they were expecting. For those that remain, the second and third feedings are far less crowded and a magical experience. Yup, it's definitely a whole dolphin out there this time.

It's impossible not to be enchanted by them. Even to the most cold-hearted cynic, Flipper is undeniably cute and graceful. To see him come up to the beach to eat from a human hand will bring out the sentimental, gooey side in anyone.

Your chances of being picked out from the crowd to handle the morning meal are in direct proportion to your chances of successfully auditioning for the lead role in Oliver Twist. Sweet, photogenic children have an automatic advantage and whilst there is obviously a bit of grudge-bearing going on amongst the weather-beaten adults, the reaction is worth being shunned for.

Holding the fish tentatively, as if the recipient is a saltwater crocodile about to savage her arm off, Little Orphan Annie begins to smile with ecstatic glee as the dolphin takes it. She looks around as if to say: "Did you see what happened there? Did you? Can we take him home, mummy?"

It's an altogether more satisfactory experience. It's shared amongst a small community rather than observed from an uncomfortable perch above the masses. It's the difference between stroking your beloved dog's tummy as it rolls over, wagging its tail, and giving a passing glance to a stranger's poodle whilst walking down a promenade. And, no matter how much you moan about how long it took to get there, that alone is enough to justify what is a joyfully unique moment.

Details:Monkey Mia is a day's drive (850km) from Perth. Alternatively Skywest Airlines fly to Monkey Mia from Perth for $196.
Accommodation is available at the Monkey Mia Dolphin Resort, ranging from backpacker dorms ($22 a night) to beachfront villas ($229 per night).

Thursday, 5 February 2009

#82 – Never quote taxi drivers

Or avoiding the man in the cab with the gift of the gab.

Taxi drivers in travel articles
Taxi drivers must be the most quoted people in travel articles. If you were to believe everything you read, it would appear as though taxi drivers across the world are overflowing fonts of useful information.

Pithy lines
Strange, isn’t it? The taxi driver manages to come up with such a pithy line; one that almost sums the destination up in a neat little bundle of humour and insight. What a stroke of good fortune for the travel writer – to get such a sage quote so unexpectedly.

Where are these taxi drivers?
Unfortunately, I have never met a taxi driver like this. In fact, 90% of the ones I have come across aren’t from the city I’m in, appear to have little more than a rudimentary knowledge of its streets and speak only tiny fragments of English. What am I doing wrong?

Making up quotes
Actually, I do know what I’m doing wrong. I’m not making up quotes from fictitious characters in order to put a bit of pep into my article. That’ll be the problem.

What do editors think?
And if I can see that 95% of all taxi driver quotes are blatantly fabricated, then chances are that most editors will think the same way. Seeing a taxi driver quote, therefore, is likely to raise a red flag and set the alarm bells ringing. If the writer has made that up, what else has he or she made up?

Bad reputations
It doesn’t take a genius to work out where the train of thought goes from there – and it’s not good for any writer to get a reputation for passing off fiction as fact.

Wednesday, 28 January 2009

#78 – Make use of the active present continuous

Or strapping the reader into the rollercoaster seat.

Disclaimer
A word of warning here. Not everyone will agree with this, and some editors will possibly regard it as the worst piece of advice in history. But I think the active form of the present continuous tense really lends itself to travel writing.

Demonstration
I’ll demonstrate rather than try to explain. Here are two examples of the same intro. Which do you think reads better?

Example one
The huddle was so tight that a scrum could have broken out at any minute. A 17-stone shaven-headed man attempted to barge his way past a couple of ten year olds in order to get a closer view. Other kids tested the shoulder of their weary parents in a bid to get a height advantage.

Example two
The huddle is so tight that you half expect a scrum to break out at any minute. A 17-stone shaven-headed man is attempting to barge his way past a couple of ten year olds in order to get a closer view. Other kids are testing the sagging shoulders of their weary parents in a bid to get a height advantage.

Report vs running commentary
I prefer the latter. Others won’t, but I think it has the advantage of taking the reader to the situation and making them feel they are a part of it. Example one is a report of an incident, example two is a running commentary on an incident in progress. It’s the difference between watching breaking news of a major event and a sober studio analysis afterwards; the live match versus the highlights package.

Adding zip
Keeping writing in the active makes it more arresting - it’s more dynamic to read. And using the present continuous straps the reader into the rollercoaster seat rather than allowing them to look on at a distance. This technique isn’t always appropriate, but I feel as though it adds zip to a travel story and offers a better sense of place.

Wednesday, 12 November 2008

#61 – Avoid overuse of ‘I’ and ‘we’.

Or why there should be no ‘I’ in “travel story”

Amateurish writing
One thing that always grates with me when I read a travel piece is when the writer is constantly referring to themselves all the way through. This is an entirely personal peccadillo, but I always think that copy littered with “I” and “we” seems a little amateurish. It reads a little like one of those pieces you write at primary school after you get back from the summer holidays, recounting what you did over the last couple of months.

Putting the reader in your shoes
The main reason that I don’t like it is that it distances the reader from the experience. When you’re writing about your own experience, it is by default not theirs. One thing I always like to do in a travel piece is to take the reader there, and put him or her in my shoes. The moment I start talking about myself, this isn’t possible.

Example
I’ll give a couple of sentences as an example. Here’s the what-I-did-on-my-holidays version:

“Antonio tells me that there are jaguars behind the trees. We all tread a little gingerly after that, and I tremble as I hear a roar. ‘Don’t worry,’ Antonio tells us. ‘It’s only a howler monkey’.”

Now I think that passage would be better written as follows:

“There are jaguars behind the trees, says Antonio. Cue ginger steps – and impulsive trembling the moment a roar rings out. ‘Don’t worry,’ says Antonio. ‘It’s only a howler monkey’.”

Transported into the situation
You may agree or disagree, but I feel that the reader is transported into the situation more in the second passage. And it’s largely because those two words have been chopped out.

Integral part of the story?
Sometimes, of course, using “I” or “we” is unavoidable. Sometimes, you ARE an integral part of the story – such as if you’re on a personal mission, or are doing a piece about how you are revisiting somewhere that a relationship broke down in many years ago.
On other occasions, you simply have to leap through so many hoops to avoid the use of ‘I’, that it’s simply not worth the horrendously clunky that emerges as a result.
But most of the time, there’s no “I” in “travel story”.

Saturday, 8 November 2008

#58 – Don’t be afraid to submit mediocre copy

Or knowing how good your average is.

High standards
One common mistake that writers make is thinking that every piece of work they turn out has to be of an exceptionally high standard. In an ideal world, of course, this would be the case. But in an ideal world, we’d all be superhuman writing cyborgs with unparalleled knowledge and a witty quip for every occasion.

Quantity as well as quality
The truth of the matter is that if you’re going to become a successful freelancer, you are going to have to deal in quantity as well as quality. There’s no point spending two weeks at a time crafting a masterpiece if you only get paid enough to live on for one week as a result.

Mediocre work
Unfortunately, there will be some occasions where you know that what you’ve written isn’t particularly good. By your own standards, it’s pretty mediocre stuff. And sometimes you’ll know what you’ve tapped out into your laptop is just plain crap. Admittedly, though, this is often when the editor has asked for something that can only be crap, and no amount of turd-polishing on your part can redeem it.

Pragmatic approach
Some writing gurus will advise that if you’re not happy with your work, you should revise it until you know that it is up to your usual standard. I’m more of a pragmatist (which is probably why I can’t affix the ‘guru’ qualification to my business card). I figure that sometimes average or mediocre will do the job.

Send the piece away
Sometimes it is better to send away the slightly uninspired piece and get on with the next one, rather than wasting time and money trying to improve it. But a lot depends on how good your own particular ‘average’ is.

One of the best
This will sound horribly arrogant, but I know damn well that I’m one of the best writers at many of the publications I work for. If I wasn’t, the editors wouldn’t keep giving me work. I also know that some of the other writers that somehow get published in these publications are bloody awful; they consistently churn out hackneyed, turgid dross.

Getting run
Therefore, I know that if I end up sending off a piece that I don’t think is anywhere near my best, it’ll still get run. I might not be overly proud of it, but it’ll still be a damn sight better than some of the content in that issue. In other words, I know my average is still better than a good proportion of the competition’s best work. And as long as I don’t fall back to mediocre too often, it’ll do. Proof-read it, change anything that’s really bad, send it, move on.

How good is your average?
The key thing is to have a critical awareness of where you are in that pecking order. How good is your average? Is it good enough to allow you do dip from peak form every now and again?

Friday, 24 October 2008

#47 – Don’t be afraid to be funny

Or why entertainment isn’t a dirty word.

Dull travel writing
As I have stated before, I don’t like most travel writing. Much output in the genre is spectacularly dull, po-faced and plodding. Ironically, it displays most of the qualities that people go on holiday to avoid.

Why people travel
Yes. That’s right – people travel to enjoy themselves. They go away to have a good time, relax and not take things too seriously for a while. Yet very little travel writing seems to reflect this.

Journalism’s soft option
Let’s get one thing straight: as far as journalism goes, travel writing is the soft option. Cry and protest all you like, but the world would happily keep turning if there was never another travel article published. Perhaps it is because the craft is so frivolous and unimportant that so many writers choose to prove how vital and serious they are in their writing.

Entertain the reader
While there is certainly a place for an authoritative voice, there is a bigger call for something that many writers neglect or see as being beneath them – entertainment. That’s right – it’s not a crime to entertain the reader. In fact, doing so should be positively encouraged.

Use humour
And one of the time honoured ways to entertain is to use humour. It’s a quality so frequently absent from travel pieces, and it shouldn’t be. I’ve got no evidence aside from my own experience on this, but many editors are crying out for writers that can do funny.

Don’t try too hard
Of course, I’d better clarify this by saying that no-one’s looking for someone who is trying to be funny (see Tip 37 about exclamation marks). There’s nothing more painful to read than someone trying too hard to make people laugh (well, aside from holocaust memoirs). But if you can inject a bit of fun into proceedings without making people wince, then do it.

Lighten up
Ironic, self-deprecating, arch, wry, waspish, playful, whimsical... there are lots of different types of humour that can work for various publications. Yet you could be mistaken for thinking that many writers mistake them for swear words. Lighten up a bit, write with a smile on your face, pass on the sense of joy, fun and wonder. Chances are that the piece will be a lot better read.

Fluff
And, whatever you do, don’t take yourself too seriously. Accept that you are writing fluff 90% of the time. But there’s nothing to stop it being good quality, hugely entertaining fluff that will engage your reader, give your editor a different voice to add to the mix and stand out in a crowd of mediocre earnestness.

Wednesday, 22 October 2008

#46 – When sources should be credited

Or covering your own back.

Cluttered-up copy
In tip #44, I suggested that cluttering up copy with attributions is unnecessary. Explaining the source of every bit of information makes for an ugly read. But for some information, it’s entirely necessary.

Attribute arguments
As a general rule, whenever a point, a statistic or an argument is debatable, it is advisable to attribute it. This obviously doesn’t apply when it’s your own opinion – you don’t need to explain if you think a building is ugly or meal is virtually inedible – but in other cases, it’s important.

Differing estimates
For some stats, like dates and prices, there will be near universal (if not fully universal agreement). No need to attribute there – it’s accurate. But other things are not so clear cut. For example, when dating the foundation of an ancient city (such as Damascus, or the Mayan city of Tikal in Guatemala), there are often many wildly differing estimates.

Back-covering disclaimer
In these instances, I’d argue that you need to say where you got the date from. To state a selected date as fact is wrong – you don’t know it is accurate, and neither does anyone else. This sort of situation calls for a little back-covering disclaimer, such as “according to our guide” or “one scientific school of thought believes”. If you can pin it to a person or reputable organisation, then even better.

Controversial statements
Some statements are even more controversial. For example, if you’re doing a story on a jungle island, and the jungle on that island is being depleted, then you need to be very careful about stating a cause of that depletion. Saying that the jungle is being depleted because of tourism development could, firstly, be untrue, and secondly, leave you open to a libel suit.

Interview, quote and attribute
For something like that, the best course to take is to interview someone who does believe that tourism development is the cause, quote them and attribute that argument to them. After that, give the accused (ie. One or more of the developers or the authorities that have allowed the development) to have their say.

Delineate between argument and fact
Treat both arguments fairly, and you shouldn’t have a problem. But whatever you do, be careful to delineate between argument and fact by attributing the opinions and any information that could be considered debatable.

Sunday, 19 October 2008

#44 – Don’t credit sources when it’s unnecessary

Or Beer Theory.

Reader comment
One of this blog’s regular readers made an interesting comment at the bottom of Tip 18 – Expensive destinations on a budget. I’ve pasted it below:

“As an unexperienced published writer, but a college graduate who had to write many papers... how do you go about crediting sources. Say you find some budget information via the tourist board, and part of your article exists thanks to their help, do you acknowledge that?

“This is one area that's always perplexed me because a lot of the articles I read seems to give an impression that 100% of the article were things the writer just knew. However, I'm sure the history of the location and other tidbits had to be researched.”

Beer Theory
It’s a good point. Unfortunately, there’s no right answer. A lot depends on the publication you are working for. But I do have a general theory that I try to adhere to whenever possible. I call it Beer Theory, and it goes something like this.

Irrelevant background information
When I want a nice cold beer, the only important thing is that the beer is nice, cold and in front of me. I don’t care how that beer is made, what blend of ingredients was used to make it, what lines of supply the bar used to get it or why the label was designed in a certain way. All of that background information is largely irrelevant. And frankly, having to know all of it would really get in the way of me enjoying my nice cold beer.

Not a maths exam
The same largely applies to information in a travel article. The reader cares that Item X costs $30, that Transport Y departs at 06:45 and that Building Z was built in 1873 in a neo-classical style by Johnny Architect. They really don’t care how you obtained that information, as long as it is accurate.
This is not a maths exam – you don’t get points for showing your working out.

Horrendously clunky read
To attribute every bit of information to a source or two would make for a horrendously clunky read. As far as I’m concerned, this should be avoided wherever possible.
However, I am aware of a bit of a cultural divide on this sort of thing. North American publications tend to be sticklers for accuracy, and articles in them are more likely to attribute information to sources.

American publications
Personally, this is one reason that I often find American publications to be really dull. But if getting published and paid requires an adaptation of your preferred writing style, it’s best to adapt and grumble quietly under your breath.

Sources in footnotes
Either that, or write the article properly, then put the sources of the information in footnotes for the editor’s eyes only. Generally, though, I’ll only do that if I know the editor wants that sort of information for fact-checking purposes. Most editors will either check independently or trust that you’ve got it right.

Don’t take tourist board information as gospel
And how do you know that you’ve got it right? By checking it yourself with an alternative source – never take anything received from a tourist board as gospel. They do have a vested interest, after all.

Saturday, 18 October 2008

#43 – Start with where the action is

Or beginning an article with the key anecdote.

Strictly chronological?
One thing that often perplexes me with travel writing is that many writers seem to insist on presenting everything in a strictly chronological order. On certain occasions this is fine – and others entirely necessary.

Key anecdotes and events
But a lot of the time this leads to dull, rambling intros that lose the reader’s attention by the time they arrive at the juicy bit. Far better, I feel, to start with the key anecdote or unique event.

Adventure sports
This is particularly true for anything involving adventure sports or activities, but can be equally applicable to more sedate affairs. For example, on a shopping trip, it can be when you accidentally clatter into a market stall, or when the two stallholders start yelling at each other.

Examples
But to use some examples, I’ll stick to the adrenaline rushes. If doing a skydive, the key moment – and thus the best thing to start with – is the moment you go over the edge and out of the plane. If white water rafting, it’s the bit where you’re about to fall in. On a bike ride, it’s the bit where you nearly get mown down by a tractor.

Throw the reader into the adventure
By starting where the real, unique action is, you instantly throw the reader into the adventure. It sets the pace from the start, and grabs the attention. The back story – the preparations, what happened before the big moment – can come later.
Unless you’re writing for something written in crayon to cater for an audience of the borderline retarded, then the reader will be intelligent enough to understand the juggled chronology.
It will also make for a much better read.

Monday, 13 October 2008

#39 – Vary the sentence length

Or how to pace an article.

Long travel articles
Travel articles, by and large, are quite long. It’s often the case that people will start to read one, and not make it to the end. This is always going to happen, but there are some ways of holding the interest, and one major method is varying the pace of the article.

Short, sharp shock
I have read plenty of articles that plough on interminably, either with long sentences or continual medium-sized sentences. They’re really hard to read, and the short, sharp shock of a small sentence can often be invaluable.

Cormac McCarthy
Often the skill of a writer is not in what he or she does use, but in what they do not. For an example of how sparse language can be far more affecting than page after page of flowery prose, read something by Cormac McCarthy (such as The Road or No Country For Old Men). His economy with words is fantastic.
But for a concrete example, check out the two paragraphs below. Which do you think reads better?

Version one
“The fat American is holding the whole queue up. You would have thought that he would realise that this isn’t for him. After all, you don’t tend to see too many 22-stone whales climbing big rocks. There’s no point in trying to tell him that, though.”

Version two
“He’s fat. He’s American. And he’s holding the whole queue up. Anyone with an ounce of sense would have probably realised that climbing big rocks is not a suitable past-time for a whale of approximately 22 stone. But, hey, try telling him that.”

I much prefer the second, and it’s largely due to the variation in sentence length. OK, so there’s a long one in the middle, but that’s balanced out by punchier ones either side.

Friday, 10 October 2008

#37 – Don’t use exclamation marks

Or why punctuation doesn’t make the unfunny funny.

The exclamation mark rule
Another of my particularly harsh rules that I applied rigorously whilst I was working as an editor involved exclamation marks. Essentially, if I saw one in copy that a freelancer or potential staff member had submitted, then they were never going to get any work at the magazine while I was in charge.

Canned laughter
That does seem mean, doesn’t it? But hear me out. Something is either funny or it isn’t. You cannot make something funny by sticking an exclamation mark at the end of it. In fact, it just makes it look like you’re trying desperately hard to be funny and are failing miserably. The exclamation mark is the literary equivalent of canned laughter.

Bad writing
It is not a problem that can be solved by simply taking the exclamation marks out. Remove them, and you still have a joke that isn’t funny cluttering up the story.
Neither can you really train someone out of using exclamation marks to prop up crap writing. They may end up obey your exclamation mark diktats, but they’re still going to produce bad writing full of unfunny jokes.

Multiple exclamation marks
I’d rather not use that sort of writer. Thankfully, the presence of the exclamation mark provides a handy advance warning system – there’s no need to read through the rest of the drivel to realise that it is unpublishable tosh. As for anyone who uses multiple exclamation marks (!!!), shooting’s too good for them.

Exceptions to the rule
As always, there are a couple of exceptions to the rule, but they’re so rare that they’re hardly worth mentioning. But for the record, here are the three occasions where the exclamation mark has a place.

1. Genuine exclamations (ie. Wow! or Crikey!).
2. Reported speech (when quoting someone who was making an exclamation or talking excitedly in a manner that would be accurately transcribed with an exclamation mark).
3. Taking the piss out of someone who does use exclamation marks to signify a joke. Again, this is very much like the reported speech exception – it’s just that you may be adopting their voice for the purposes of satire/ literary bullying/ merciless savagery.

Monday, 6 October 2008

#34 – Don’t regurgitate your diary

Or why you should never listen to your mother.

Don’t believe the hype
One common mistake that wannabe travel writers fall into is to believe the hype. They may keep an online diary of their travels; they may have a blog; they may send long e-mails back home telling of their wondrous adventures.Tragically, there will often be someone who encourages this kind of behaviour (75% of the time, it’s the writer’s mother). They’ll say how fascinating the diary/ blog/ e-mail is, and what a talent that writer has for telling a story.

Travellers who write
These are often the sort of people that then believe they have a potential career ahead of them. They’re the archetypal travellers who write, rather than writers who travel. And somebody has to break it to them that the only reason the dirge they’re tapping out is interesting is because it’s the only source of information that mumsy is getting about her beloved child.

Nobody cares who you are
To the rest of the world, it is deeply dull. One of the first things to get into your head if you’re going to make it as a travel writer is that nobody cares who you are. They care about the story you have to tell, and have zero interest in you as a person.

Difference between diaries and articles
Secondly, you have to realise that there is a fundamental difference between a travel story or article and a travel diary. A diary is about logging the detail. A story is, well, a story. It’s as much about what you leave out as what you include. And it’s certainly about the order in which you tell things and the emphasis you put on them. A diary has a tendency to give equal weight to everything – it’s about recording, not reporting or narrating. In essence, to write travel articles, you have to write completely differently.

Writer guidelines
While I was working as an editor, I drew up some writer guidelines. I recently found them again, and I think the section below is as relevant now as it is then. I’ve pasted it verbatim:

DIARIES: Nobody wants to read your travel diary. It may be fascinating to you, but it’s boring as hell to everyone else. Imagine having to sit through reels and reels of someone else’s travel photos. Not much fun, is it? Well, avoid crap like this at all costs – it’s the literary equivalent:

“We woke up at 7am in our comfy hostel beds. We were staying at Koala Backpackers in Adelaide. We then went for breakfast, and had sausages and eggs…” blah, blah, blah.

I bored myself writing that, so God knows how tedious the readers will find it. Concentrate on the things that you’ve done that other people don’t do every day. Shimmying up a mountain face = interesting. A blow by blow account of devouring the meat pie you had for lunch = rubbish.