Thanks, Jackie. Nice to meet you, too, Jackie. Likewise, Jackie.

I remember learning at the age of 12 or so that the secret of success was using someone's name in conversation. We're in love with our own identities, so it stands to reason we love to hear our name.

Right? That's how it went?

Only not. I'm encountering a trend in young writers -- overeagerness to overattribute.

The Larson Dictionary & Stylebook definition of overattribution: To hammer someone over the head with their last name, repeatedly, within the confines of a story. Ouch. OUCH!

A woman I reported with in my early days said her college journalism prof told her to imagine she was being whapped with a quirt across her knuckles every time she overused someone's name.

"It was great," Schlmiel said.
"The first thing we did was have tea," Schlmiel said.
"DON'T MAKE ME HIT YOU WITH THE QUIRT AGAIN," Schlmiel said.

The extra name usage is generally slipped in in the note transcription process. No one sets out to use the same name in every paragraph. But believe me, it happens. Now, imagine you're the subject of the article, only you HATE your last name, because it sounds like slang. So how much more do you hate the rhythmical insertion of your last name at every opportunity?

Make changing up attribution one of your closing routines on a piece. There's spell-check, length-check, fact-check, sound-check.

Now there's duplication-check. Look for repetitions (and remove them!). And if Schlmiel is going around and around in your story's head, get it out. Sub in "he said." or "the Harvard grad said."

And probably if there's this big a ring to it, you need to de-quotize some of the interview and serve it up as fact.

And I haven't even talked about the quaint but irritating use of Mr., Ms. and Mrs. at evey turn, like the Dallas Morning News insists upon.

"Mr. Lecter escaped custody this morning. He had been jailed - and muzzled - for seven serial murders." See? Doesn't that sound odd?

Catch-22: The less you make, the more you crank out?

As a writer and editor, there's one peculiar trend I have noticed over many, many years. It's in keeping with the great tradition of capitalism that the higher you rise, the less you do.

I'm not indicting this trend. I'm just observing that it may exist - and that new writers can expect it.

The less you make, the more you're expected to crank out.

It may follow that the more you're expected to crank out, the less quality you produce. And then the fewer clip book quality pieces you have for your portfolio.

That said, the better you are, the more solid every word you write is - and the less editing it requires. This involves not just practice but talent - and watching carefully to see what can be done (and what IS done by editors) to improve your work. If you don't watch how your copy gets better between your computer and the printed page, you won't learn from it.

So, the better you are, the better stories you're assigned - and the better your clip book will look, too. And the better opportunities, and the better pay you will get (although the difference between what a good writer and a mediocre writer is paid at a smaller publication is not that great, since good writers are underpaid at smaller publications.)

The bottom line for the publication is that its prestige rises with better quality writers and falls with those who don't have the talent or ability or discipline to turn out good copy. More on this later.

Polish, polish, polish!

An editor told me recently he's been inundated by stories that aren't finished.
In the freelance world, an unfinished story is a liability to the writer. The more work the editor has to do to it just to get it to useable, the less likely the writer is to continue the working relationship with that editor. Of course, with freelance, you generally get more lead time because they realize you have other work to work around.
But in the daily newspaper business, unfinished work is bad. With deadlines looming, an editor is forced to either get the writer to finish the piece, or to finish it themself, or to shelve it and disrupt the front page. Or let it run rough.
The writer may protest "But I finished the piece! I even ran SPELLCHECK."
I'm here to tell you that like the AI commercial says, just because it looks done doesn't mean it's done.
Every writer has their own writing routines. But whether you put your byline on first or last, there are several steps without which your journalistic steak doesn't have its AI on. It's not even cooked.
1) Read it aloud. Does it make sense at this point?
2) Is everything in the right order, or do you need to do more cut-and-paste. I don't mean chronological order -- I mean, does it FLOW? Or is it all jerky, lurching from one paragraph to the other like a drunken tale?
3) Is there any duplication that needs to be eliminated?
4) Are quotes correctly attributed and introduced? Names and titles spelled correctly?
5) I recently noticed a piece that had a "there" where there should have been a "their." Any of those?
6) Do you go on and on and on? Would a shorter story be better?
There are other polishing routines. Here are some of the main ones.
Remember: polish, polish, polish!

A story is like Thanksgiving Dinner

I see the newspaper stories I write as Thanksgiving dinners. Little, journalistic, Thanksgiving dinners. Made of words.
The problem with producing stories day in and day out at most small daily or weekly newspapers is that your editor (especially if your editor is you) needs a lot of stories. Like Audrey II in Little Shop of Horrors, if ad sales are going well, the publication is an ever growing thing with a growing need. "Feed me!" Of course, it's a limited analogy because the demand isn't for flesh but for words. But I digress.
So you need to crank out stories. Instead of pitching a fit about "quality" and using the lack of time for the excuse to produce work that's less than ideal, why not subject yourself to the discipline of cracking down and producing what's needed and then some, day in, day out. C'mon. It will be fun. It will be like swinging three bats in preparation for the big baseball game.
So back to the Thanksgiving dinner analogy.
When you make the feast, you use the stove, the oven, the fridge, the sink, the counter, the cutting board, the microwave. But not all at once. There are a lot of little pieces to the meal that must be set in motion in their times in order to be frozen, thawed, mixed, boiled, baked, sauteed,chilled, set, nuked, warmed, heated, garnished, displayed -- all to get on the table at 5 p.m. on the dot.
When you make the story, it's the same. You will make contacts, make calls, go to meetings, interviews, research online, email, transcribe, put in order, delete extraneous material, pick a lead, edit, polish, read aloud. Garnish.
If we rely on the mechanics of writing, go through the motions, get just enough, slap it together, it might be a meal, but it won't be Thanksgiving.
We must not overlook the final steps: put in order, delete extraneous material, pick a lead, edit, polish, read aloud. Garnish.
And we must learn to do it fast, because although it's like a little Thanksgiving, in reality, it's like a cow.
No matter how well we milk it today, we will just have to get up and milk it again tomorrow.

As Good As It Gets: Voice, Persona, Personality

In the movie, As Good As It Gets, Marvin Udahl, the main character played by Jack Nicholson, has a persona (grumpy, difficult, eccentric, OCD) that is very different from his voice (think more Nicholas Sparks.)

Asked by an emotional woman how he writes women so well, he said something akin to "taking away all reason." Grumpy guy who has figured out how to write for an emotional market, that's all.

When I first read one of Nicholas Sparks' books (after seeing two of his movies) I cynically concluded here was a guy who had figured out how to make millions by making people cry. Book after book.

However, after reading Nicholas Sparks' autobiographical piece, Three Weeks With My Brother, and seeing how acutely affected he was by a very difficult upbringing and through life challenges presented to him as an adult (which I completely understand) I do get how his work seems to be written with every raw nerve exposed. I have since concluded he is definitely an emotional kind of guy who feels things deeply -- or at least his persona is of that kind of person.

The persona he presents autobiographically is very like his voice. He comes across as just as empathetic and emotional and heart-on-his-sleeve as his writing.

I don't know him personally, so I don't know if his persona is really what his personality is like when he is alone or with his family -- but I have no reason to think it's different than he presents in his autobiography.

There's a debate on Mediabistro.com about the difference between persona and voice. http://mediabistro.com/bbs/cache/t38812_1.asp There can be a difference -- or they can be very closely related.

Pop Quiz: What do you do??

Pop Quiz: Your editor sends your 550-word piece back to you. It's now 410 words, and in your view, considerably "mangled." Instead of being better for the edit, it has new rough edges that weren't there before. What do you do?

Shaving off word count is not something writers always get to be the ones to do. If there are true rough spots, I point them out. "It appears to need a comma HERE" and "It looks like the 'and' that got edited out may need to stay in." I have done this a couple times because busy editors doing the trimming may themselves leave "rough spots."

However, if it's something fairly arbitrary or just based on your preference (say you like the word 'huge' better than the word 'large') get over it -- it's the editor's discretion, and they're writing for their ears, not yours.

With a little luck, you will learn to write with that editor's ear in mind and have a long and fruitful relationship. To get there, calling into question their general judgment won't help. I wrote for a nursing publication, and regretted what had to be done to my copy to make it conform to their style. C'est la vie. They were fabulous otherwise. This has happened a couple times -- welcome to ze big leagues.

If you withdraw an edited piece prior to publication, it should be because it's really horrible and will completely embarrass you as a writer.

As another writer pointed out recently, once you've done enough work (for this publication and others) you won't mind the loss of the clip and can leave it out of your portfolio if it really sticks in your craw.

Writers: Submissions wanted for Leisure Arts' Christmas Traditions volume

Call for submissions: New writers, here's an idea for you from Deb Moore of Leisure Arts, a publisher of how-to and instructional books.

Novice writers looking for your first publication credit? Moore says she's an editor who remembers how intimidating the whole process can seem in the beginning. Please note: working writers who depend on the shekels they make with each word, this won't work for you except on a sentimental basis. Projects like this can sap away valuable time from those who make a living writing.

Here's the call:

"Leisure Arts, one of the world’s largest publishers and distributors of lifestyle and instructional materials, is accepting submissions for the Second Edition of our newest annual holiday publication, Christmas Traditions. Christmas Traditions was created because we at Leisure Arts know that the personal customs of Christmas are what bring the holiday—and our loved ones—nearer to us each year. Bearing this in mind, we took extra care to ensure that every page of the first edition of this beautiful book featured meaningful ways to enrich the holiday experience.

We would like to include your uniquely personal story in the second edition. Describe for us how you create gifts destined to become treasured keepsakes or make decorations to evoke tender memories. Share with us the recipe your family looks forward to every year and tell us the story behind it. Describe the holiday traditions your family observes every year—whether the traditions are new or have been passed down from generation to generation. Tell us the story of your favorite family tradition.

Submissions should be 120-200 words, written in first person, be original and true. We happily accept multiple submissions. If your submission is chosen for inclusion in the book, you will be contacted; however, Leisure Arts cannot acknowledge receipt of individual submissions or report upon each submission's status. Submissions accepted via email only. If we use your submission, you'll receive publication credit and one free copy of the book. No monetary compensation will be made.

By submitting, you certify that you are the creator of the material and that it does not infringe upon any third party's trademark or copyright. You retain ownership and copyright of your contribution, but your submission grants Leisure Arts unencumbered, non-exclusive, perpetual license to reuse the work, in whole or in part, in any of its publications, Web sites, or archives. Leisure Arts reserves the right to make grammatical and editorial corrections, or to edit the work for length or stylistic requirements according to the judgment of the editorial staff. Send submissions to: debra_moore@leisurearts.com