At the end of the day, I’m annoyed.

I can’t say that I was aware of this trend, but The Voice has brought a currently omnipresent cliché to my attention: “at the end of the day.” In nearly every round, one of the sweet little girls about to go up for the battle rounds would highly praise her competitor and close with “but at the end of the day, only one can go on to the live performances” or “but at the end of the day, this is a competition, and I want to win” or something along those lines. Cee Lo Green used it at least three times, Christina Aguilera four times in one episode, according to my count. The equally annoying cousin of this expression that was just as gratingly overused for a while would be “in the final analysis.”

If I were to rephrase that in my own language, I’d be more likely to use a simpler expression: “but after all, this is a competition, and I want to win.” I have become such a fan of simplicity in my editing career. You will end up sounding more original, less like a trend-follower and more like you make your own trends, if you speak simply and skip the clichés that are in everyone’s mouths. By episode 5 of The Voice, I had started finishing the contestants’ unbelievable predictable sentences. Since the group of people on this show is really not homogeneous, I must believe that this trend has its teeth pretty deeply in our pop culture. Let’s hope it’s fleeting or that this very popular show will make everyone very tired of it.

Legend of the Guardians by Kathryn Lasky

Owls were my Grandma’s thing. She had thousands around the house–stitched into towels, printed on porcelain, figurines, art made with seeds…. Her house was full of owls. When she passed away in December, Legend of the Guardians had just come to the dollar theatre. I loved the story, the characters, the whole experience, mostly emotionally.

The book is very different. I loved it for the owls, for their beautiful, intelligent world that Lasky imagined. The characters are darling and well developed. The descriptive passages are, for the most part, quite well done. The owl-specific terminology is a little cheesy in some parts and in others doesn’t quite work: “breaklight” instead of “breakfast” betrays very little sense of etymology or word formation. Lasky is not quite the master of inventing a whole new world as Rowlings. She slips up a little here and there.

Also, after Soren’s and Gylfie’s escape from St. Aggie’s, the story drags. I can see why the movie skipped so much. I do love how much we learn about life in the great Ga’Hoole tree, though.

Overall, I would call the writing well done but not masterful. The story line is a genius idea in its essence but could have done with some pruning in the final stages of execution. I oddly found several typos, which is more a criticism of Scholastic Inc. and Lasky’s editor than anything else. After the individual volumes had already appeared before, you’d think they could have ironed out such errors for the combined volume of the first three books.
In any case, it’s a charming read, well worth anyone’s while. I loved it for indulging my inherited love for owls and for endowing them with some further personality and mystery in my imagination.

New York: The Novel

I finished Edward Rutherfurd’s New York feeling very satisfied–not just for the sheer accomplishment of arriving at the end of 860 pages. The ending is wonderful, meaningful.
When I started reading, I was not as convinced that I would love it. The style had to grow on me. At times it seemed a little heavy-handed. I read myself into it and began to really feel myself in the middle of the plot. But a few things pulled me back out a few times: many story threads weave in and out of each other, following a few families and their descendants for centuries. But in each epoch, it seems only a couple of characters are well-developed. We seem to see the action most from their point of view, though the narration is omniscient. The rest of them are types, a little flat, a little predictable. I didn’t really care, I noticed, when Anna died but for Salvatore’s sake because I’d been through highs and lows with him already.

The development across centuries is not organic. It seems to me that Rutherfurd conducted some very thorough research about New York, outlined his favorite episodes of history, and then invented characters to experience these events. The stories interweaving, the characters’ paths and careers don’t all seem to flow out of a deep knowledge of who they are but rather seem to be somewhat imposed on some of them.

The style has a related problem at time: it is not entirely consistent. A few passages are witty to a degree that the rest of the book just isn’t–the description of little Lee as round in all aspects really charmed me, but did not feel like a natural part of the narrative. It seemed to me that one day on a subway, Rutherfurd had this amusing thought about someone. Like any good writer, he pulled out his notebook, jotted it down, came across it later as he was writing New Work, and looked for a character it could apply to.

That much for my criticisms.

I loved the sort of socio-psychological overview of this city over the centuries that this book seems to attempt. The old money concerns, the immigrant struggles, Wall Street’s moods rippling throughout society, a family heirloom that originated with a little illegitimate Indian daughter and witnesses the terror of 9/11… The sense of history is well woven through the stories. The descriptions of physical scenery are beautiful and evocative. History feels personal in these pages.

The craft is not entirely refined, but the intent of the book is impressive and mostly achieved. I completely recommend this book. It’s worth reading all 860 pages.

Big deal, quips Deal

“Illegal immigration is already illegal in Georgia” was Georgia Governor Deal’s opening line to a press statement on signing HB 87 into law yesterday. So the chuckles and snorts from his side of the issue began as they enjoyed a “Duh!” moment. Meanwhile, those opposed to and most affected by the law were stupefied for a moment by the truism and had to shake themselves to break out of the very tight circular argument he had just spun.

Clever tactic in a way—get yourself on the laughing side with a statement that nobody could sanely contradict, leave your opponent to be laughed at. Almost eradicates the need for a real argument to defend your position—almost. The message—“this law entails no significant changes to get so worked up about” or “this law is more the remedy to an earlier oversight than anything new”—is a slap in the face. Because for a lot of people this law does change everything.

This is not going to turn into a long-winded political argument. Others have argued this case much better than I could. Georgia immigration attorney Charles Kuck expresses the true effects of this law here. The fact that the rhetoric of it all can overpower the strength of an actual argument is my point. Just saying.

Why nobody can read scientific stuff–reason # 1

Ah, who likes rules and routines anyway…. I’ve been absent a few days due a veritable avalanche of scientific papers on my to-edit pile. And now I’m already breaking with my weekly theme cycle, after only a week. Yup, I’m a bit erratic, I suppose.

But one thought is very close to foremost on my mind right now (besides the urge to romp in the river with my doggies in this beautiful day): AVOID NOUN STRINGS!!!

Sorry for the shouting, but, honestly! Who can (or wants to) read sentences that string up as many as eight nouns in a row without any other parts of speech to help us figure out their connection? It’s not only darn hard to follow, it’s also very static. It reads like dictionary of big words that all have individual meanings but don’t create a story, a narrative, a new thought. Of course, if you’re German, like me, you do that in your native tongue, combine them all into one word, and frustrate the heck out of foreigners. But that’s different.

There’s my rant. Now I can go back and break up some more of those suckers.

Thorny Thursday: Ambiguity

Double-meaning isn’t necessarily suggestive of something lewd. Both meanings can be relatively innocent. And all forms of double-meaning have their place, when intentional. Accidental ambiguity can get you in trouble, though.

Consider this in the context of interracial dating:

During high school, I dated another girl called Brittney. She embraced me fully as well. Even Brittney’s parents accepted me as their daughter’s boyfriend.

Let me assure you, the context for this was dead serious. Of course, the author’s intended meaning for “embrace” is just about identical to the use of “to accept” in the next sentence. But the use of the metaphor of an embrace has a comical effect here and someone could possibly read it as more suggestive than it is meant.

Since you know exactly what you’re trying to say, this is an issue that you’ll never catch in your own writing—perhaps with a few months’ distance. Consider this an argument for having someone, if not an editor, review your writing. Misplaced metaphors and ambiguity can more seriously alter the mood you’re trying to convey than in this example.

Does anyone have their own examples of this?

Win on Wednesday: Student Bloopers

Today is the day: let’s play! Wednesdays will be contest day on The Hoot from now on to acknowledge some of the best/worst writing errors—that depends on the perspective, I suppose—members of this community have encountered.

Every week I will post a theme, a category, of written train wrecks. You can then nominate your favorites in the comment section until the following Saturday at noon. On Saturday, I will open up the voting for all eligible entries until the following Tuesday night. On Wednesdays, I will reveal the winner of the previous week’s contest. The submitter of everyone’s favorite has a choice between the following two prizes:

• the right to a guest post on this blog, either about their submission or about another topic appropriate for this blog
• a complementary 5-page edit.

(This means you can send me up to five pages of about 250 words each for a free edit, allowing one week, five business days, for me to complete it.)

And this week’s category is

Student Bloopers (Ages 5-10)

Participation in this category is, of course, somewhat restricted. If you are a teacher, submit favorite sentences gone awry written by your charges. But you could also participate contributing a funny creation by your children, nieces or nephews, etc. Do note the age group I’m looking for. Little kiddie bloopers aren’t really comparable to college student blunders. And one more rule: everyone is restricted to one entry. Pick your favorite if you have massive collections.

So go ahead, make us laugh and make us cringe!

Terse Tuesday

Three’s a Crowd—in Writing, Too

Our brains in Western societies are wired to love triples. Everything has to come in threes. Early on in our writing careers, our reasoning is usually constructed in this way:

“I like Julie. Julie is my best friend. I like Julie because she is pretty, smart, and funny.”

Though the Russian doll or expanding effect of the example above is toned down a bit over time, the urge to supply a third reason or a third attribute remains strong. We automatically look for a third when we list anything. Most of the time, the third item is only there to make it three, not because it adds anything significant. As a matter of fact, I just subconsciously tormented myself for the third item in the series “reason, attribute, x” and laughed at myself.

Surely, this technique can be used effectively. I just happened upon this excerpt on another WordPress blog:

If the government did acknowledge this, it could still press ahead with the stabiliser mechanism and even a temporary tax cut. But it would also need a whole other strand to the budget – huge investment in public transport. Reopening local train networks, making coach travel more efficient, funding school buses. Aside from a modest investment in the railways, this was entirely absent.

In the above example, all elements of the enumeration are well chosen and worded. Each of them contribute a valid point to an argument. But a pile-up of compulsively executed threesomes results in monotony. Consider these examples:

• “John always hoped that the ideas and contributions of all races and cultures could come together, connect, and intersect.”
• “The only way toward oneness, unity, and justice is to recognize the essentially spiritual nature of the problem.”

In the first example, “come together” could be deleted without any loss to the sentence. Deleting “oneness” actually improves the second example as “oneness” and “unity” are synonymous. One’s redundant! An essay or article full of these enforced triples feels stale and corny even if you don’t happen to notice the actual offense itself.

So watch your tendency to serve up everything in threes! As a technique it’s neither wrong nor monotonous as a rule, but it certainly bears that tendency.

Do you catch yourself pausing to find a third item in a series? Do you have some good examples to share?

Announcement!

When I was a child (in Germany), we read a book series about a fantastical creature called “the Sams.” The whole book series was built on puns using the days of the week, months, etc. Quite a mess sometimes ensued from all that punning, but one thing was sure: “On Sunday, the sun shines. On Monday comes Mr. Mon. On Tuesday he does his due…” until, on Saturday (Samstag), finally, came the Sams.

Well, your Owloquent days are, forthwith, going to be much more predictable with these fun-filled themes:

Day of the Week	Theme
Monday	Meaningful Monday Vocabulary
Tuesday	Terse Tuesday Precision & Concision
Wednesday	Win on Wednesday Weekly Contest
Thursday	Thorny Thursday Errors of Consequence
Friday	Famous Fellows Friday Learning from Published Authors

I will try out these themes for a little while. I may change one out for another at some point or rename one… we’ll see. Expect the introduction to each theme on the corresponding day of this week!

Do you think I need help naming my themes? Comment with your suggestions ;o)

Get Boostered

While researching health care, especially the changes brought about by the legislation of Obama’s administration, I found this:

“If people can determine how and where their health care money is spent, it would booster competition in the health care system, which, in theory, would lower health care costs.”

I believe the writer had rolled the verbs “to bolster” and “to boost” into one, having heard of booster seats and booster vaccinations. The Merriam Webster Dictionary online does not recognize “booster” as a verb, neither does the Oxford English Dictionary. However, the Merriam Webster definition for “to bolster” reads, “1 : to support with or as if with a bolster : reinforce, 2 : to give a boost to .” The second meaning mentioned here most likely best describes the intended meaning of the sentence above. The definition referring to the oldest usage for “booster” in the Oxford English Dictionary provides, “One who boosts.” Since the noun originally derived from a verb that is still commonly used, it is redundant to derive yet another, new verb from the noun.

The only context where I could find a somewhat common usage of “booster” as a verb was in connection with pet vaccinations. Puppies are given the first set of vaccinations when they are first weaned from the mother and are given regular refresher, or booster, vaccinations over the first year of their lives. It appears that pet owners and vets talk about “getting a dog boostered.” This is not an altogether correct usage, but in a very specific context like that, it will most likely catch on and become a term. As long as the resulting usage is consistent, I don’t have a problem with such evolutions. But why derive from derivations—and confuse readers with them because the result is identical to a word from a different part of speech—when a perfectly functional expression already exists?