tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64958914380538443182024-03-14T02:25:26.553-07:00The Red PenThe Red Pen was meant to help writers use mechanics better. After teaching English for 30 years, perhaps I’m “knowledgeable” enough to be taken seriously. However, the blog has taken on a personality of its own and often there's no need to take this forum too seriously. Laugh at times, but remember, I also want to pass along tidbits of knowledge. Writing is fun work; reading, on the other hand, can be fun learning. Read at your own peril, but if you learn a thing or two, enjoy the experience.The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-34892201473033121502023-02-20T17:14:00.011-08:002023-09-30T10:48:04.283-07:00Awful Song Lyrics<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">To me, the worst song ever written is “Feliz Navidad” by Jose Feliciano. I
know…it’s a Christmas classic and some people love it, but I despise it like I
despise high taxes and lying politicians. I despise it like I despise stepping
on gum or getting a group text. Have you looked at the lyrics? The song is
three minutes and three seconds long. There are 232 words. All of
them are “Feliz Navidad…Prospero ano y Felicidad…I wanna wish you a Merry
Christmas…From the bottom of my heart.” That’s 19 words. My second sentence of
this paragraph is 22 words long. I timed myself, and it took me 27 seconds to
type the second sentence. I want a song that takes longer than 27 seconds to
write.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ixdMazsPSrqyWrqAlgOE9EVEv9qFsN9vkKaZK6dfYL6FDPsir3WSTsUFqvkt37_wFY70XfVnUEVxzr3E8Nn0ToiN66S0tn2QVGr40Fsj1cxk3V2i53n_NH6pdfYnGATRr6jhwpsOnvCDA2Nc00MHgtzcTtvYlhkxlyDW7n8Ew0ZZL4aP6d6KMeaQWQ/s1920/blog%201.111.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ixdMazsPSrqyWrqAlgOE9EVEv9qFsN9vkKaZK6dfYL6FDPsir3WSTsUFqvkt37_wFY70XfVnUEVxzr3E8Nn0ToiN66S0tn2QVGr40Fsj1cxk3V2i53n_NH6pdfYnGATRr6jhwpsOnvCDA2Nc00MHgtzcTtvYlhkxlyDW7n8Ew0ZZL4aP6d6KMeaQWQ/w400-h226/blog%201.111.webp" width="400" /></span></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">But I didn’t start this blog post because of “Feliz
Navidad.” I started it because I listened to an Adele song. Wow, she sings
great, and it was a pretty song, sung by a woman who can charge $1400 for a
concert ticket in the fourth deck of a stadium that seats 40,000 people. It got
to the chorus, and she sang these words. “But I set fire to the rain. Watched it
pour as I touched your face. Well, it burned while I cried ’cause I heard it
screaming out your name.” What? She watched the pouring, burning-on-fire rain
while she touched your face, and she cried because the pouring, burning-on-fire
rain screamed out your name? It would make more sense to set rain to the fire,
but that makes almost no sense either. I mean, you could flood a fire, but
surely you can’t set fire to a flood, can you?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><span>And this motivated me. What are some other ridiculous
lyrics? </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx5b0nlblf5r0wlkO4OvavHZsWs_zM7AOlcdn7RaDGbRabIjO-p52bJoGTT6l0MTY2yzNmQ34syaIFDrifIUp_BUhjlTu_rq4CSNaEe5vrN2vOukqYdL4Vj1oLyhGjERrUKeBYdcUyINHcWX4Sn5ZB3D5bx42tC5fvCye4Gc0iFhLs0LyIvl15z_mISw/s450/blog%201.111.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="266" data-original-width="450" height="118" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx5b0nlblf5r0wlkO4OvavHZsWs_zM7AOlcdn7RaDGbRabIjO-p52bJoGTT6l0MTY2yzNmQ34syaIFDrifIUp_BUhjlTu_rq4CSNaEe5vrN2vOukqYdL4Vj1oLyhGjERrUKeBYdcUyINHcWX4Sn5ZB3D5bx42tC5fvCye4Gc0iFhLs0LyIvl15z_mISw/w200-h118/blog%201.111.webp" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Pharrell Williams has a catchy song called “Happy” that has
a fun music video which might even motivate a person with a sour disposition to
get up and dance and be “happy.” But what about the first line of the chorus?
“Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof.” I’m just going to be
transparent here. I’ve never felt like a room of any kind in my entire life,
and I don’t know why I would. But if I felt like a room and the roof was
missing, wow, I can only imagine how happy that would make me. Aussie comedian,
Kate Langbroek, asked Pharrell why a room without a roof was happy. His
response was it was “metaphorical for one’s space without limit.” Oh. Except a
room has four walls, limiting anyone in it.
And if I needed a space without limit, and metaphorically speaking I was in a
room without a roof, wouldn’t I need to be able to fly to get to the space
without limits? It’s a dumb lyric.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">There’s a song called “Summer Girls” by LFO. None of the
lyrics make sense but I cherry picked two verses for the sake of time and
space. These are the ridiculous lines:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">You’re the best girl that I ever did see<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The great Larry Bird, jersey 33<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">When you take a sip, you buzz like a hornet<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Billy Shakespeare wrote a whole bunch of sonnets<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><o:p style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Stayed all summer then went back home<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Macaulay Culkin wasn’t Home Alone<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Fell deep in love, but now we ain’t speaking<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Michael J. Fox was Alex P. Keaton<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><o:p style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I was so impressed by these lyrics, I took three minutes to
write my own to mirror them:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif"><br />
</span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">You’re the best girl, and I love you<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Magic Johnson, jersey 32.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">When you take a bite, you belch
like a toad<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">George Martin wrote Game of Thrones<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p style="background-color: black;"> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Stayed all summer then went back to
school<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Ryan Gosling wasn’t Deadpool<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">We played cards inside your trailer<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Ron Howard was Opie Taylor<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p style="background-color: black;"> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I may have written a hit song. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p style="background-color: black;"> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;">The group, Sade, sang the classic
song, “Smooth Operator,” co-written by Sade Adu and Ray St. John, with the
classic line, “Coast to coast, LA to Chicago.” Together, they only managed to
get about 70% across the United States, but I’m giving them both 50% credit for
the stupid lyric.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBiq1KSBvSiPHSNASFG8EhVpymW4xIHjzah39bIe13-4kNryAA9K4ShRF7QOuVRWSwFfAVZdb7XNV9N8UC14GR4rZQ85-uCZ92QYevPsolgyfHQI0h2E861IkcLCCRK5-2d2Idv3W50ULg4JfwmQX8K5ILorAEv9qT9E32q3E4hQYwTBbRuNl4rL2Pbg/s612/blog%201.111.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="344" data-original-width="612" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBiq1KSBvSiPHSNASFG8EhVpymW4xIHjzah39bIe13-4kNryAA9K4ShRF7QOuVRWSwFfAVZdb7XNV9N8UC14GR4rZQ85-uCZ92QYevPsolgyfHQI0h2E861IkcLCCRK5-2d2Idv3W50ULg4JfwmQX8K5ILorAEv9qT9E32q3E4hQYwTBbRuNl4rL2Pbg/w320-h181/blog%201.111.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Oasis has a song called “Champagne
Supernova." In it are these classic lines:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Slowly walkin’ down the hall<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Faster than a cannonball<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Where were you while we were
getting high?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p style="background-color: black;"> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Now, here is an <i>actual</i>
metaphor, Pharrell Williams. A metaphor is a comparison between two things that
are otherwise unrelated. With a metaphor, the qualities of one thing are
figuratively carried over to another. You know, like how a person is like a
cannonball because a person walks slow but faster than a fast thing that shoots
out of a cannon. I looked it up. A cannonball travels about 820 feet per second,
which is considerably slower than a person ambling down a hallway. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p style="background-color: black;"> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">In “Vertigo” by U2, Bono masters
Spanish counting. “Uno, dos, tres, catorce!” One, two, three, fourteen. When
asked about the lyric, Bono admitted alcohol might have been involved. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p style="background-color: black;"> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Sk8er Boi” by Avril Lavigne begins
with these three lines:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“He was a boy<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">She was a girl<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Can I make it any more obvious?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p style="background-color: black;"> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">You mean any more vague? Ambiguous?
Nebulous? Unclear? Imprecise? I used a thesaurus. She should have used a
dictionary.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p style="background-color: black;"> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The Killers have a song called
“Human” where they posed a serious question. “I’m down on my knees, searching
for the answer…Are we human or are we dancer?” Since the lyricist is searching
close to the floor, I assume “dancer” is a tiny species I’m unaware of.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyB9tFYNggBb8l8rNE-k2V2JqrbXbgd5ENPFYbu9U2GCW_ILOK5_JUbKk0Sp5imNPaKT4wKjuuDrL9m3qfwiDHkOssAje_KWrCM97Vm3s74vCdj0Mxevv4xXiT24gWCyKmwNyVQtKyrH-YkgmwsZ7wIUt8QQ40Y1pIKLh-kK8N4cIlgD3DSE_utVwVQ/s270/blog%201.111.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="187" data-original-width="270" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyB9tFYNggBb8l8rNE-k2V2JqrbXbgd5ENPFYbu9U2GCW_ILOK5_JUbKk0Sp5imNPaKT4wKjuuDrL9m3qfwiDHkOssAje_KWrCM97Vm3s74vCdj0Mxevv4xXiT24gWCyKmwNyVQtKyrH-YkgmwsZ7wIUt8QQ40Y1pIKLh-kK8N4cIlgD3DSE_utVwVQ/w400-h278/blog%201.111.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Rihanna sings the song “What’s My
Name?” where she attempts a math calculation in the midst of her song. “The
square root of 69 is 8 something, right?/ ’cause I’ve been tryna work it out.”
I don’t know if 69 is a sexual connotation with a nonsensical “root,” but with
a calculator she could’ve rounded this to approximately 8.31, and she could put
her pencil and eraser away. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p style="background-color: black;"> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Red Hot Chili Peppers has a song
called “Suck My Kiss.” They sing, “K-I-S-S-I-N-G, Chicka chicka dee/ Do me like
a banshee/ Low brow is how/ Swimming in the sound of bow wow wow.” Wow, wow,
the title should be “My Kissing Song Sucks.”</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhxCdM9I-j7RpD7jd7M0DfBAExPNqa5XwViP8sqPlCxnORQjtCdj7F1ns5VZ4Jb19aqqNxOsEBGVD4bsNrWWjDDkGBj_dm9FF6ftkXLenMS_JJvXEKMIkYJXoRClHCCX8hGGcOgMG5EgLryfilcgC_k024sKJTuJRwSQP4sZf3Xtrqxg6CPyKWEUn2fQ/s640/blog%201.111.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="455" data-original-width="640" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhxCdM9I-j7RpD7jd7M0DfBAExPNqa5XwViP8sqPlCxnORQjtCdj7F1ns5VZ4Jb19aqqNxOsEBGVD4bsNrWWjDDkGBj_dm9FF6ftkXLenMS_JJvXEKMIkYJXoRClHCCX8hGGcOgMG5EgLryfilcgC_k024sKJTuJRwSQP4sZf3Xtrqxg6CPyKWEUn2fQ/w320-h229/blog%201.111.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Hillary Duff is the queen of logic
in the song “So Yesterday.” She reminds us “If the light is off, then it isn’t
on.” Whoever said a left-brained artist doesn’t have right-brained thinking
skills hasn’t met Hillary Duff.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMw3fjAQ1CWyh0jiIwgHsJfckhXIuiImZTdNLeLWbP0XtfrWZKVAOWSgacLjflfSAvVnodeHVo2Dk-iNYK0G-SBjLj18iciuL3czb3yAW_SYp02uOb1bslUtoq1sVItGXsTcTHIArz3zEj-_Y5Uj01bTy7cm_IIkbY5xsuHGDdprY6QKDspVjhzkRwbg/s800/blog%201.111.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="566" data-original-width="800" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMw3fjAQ1CWyh0jiIwgHsJfckhXIuiImZTdNLeLWbP0XtfrWZKVAOWSgacLjflfSAvVnodeHVo2Dk-iNYK0G-SBjLj18iciuL3czb3yAW_SYp02uOb1bslUtoq1sVItGXsTcTHIArz3zEj-_Y5Uj01bTy7cm_IIkbY5xsuHGDdprY6QKDspVjhzkRwbg/w320-h226/blog%201.111.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; background: black; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Prince wrote
“Superfunkycalifragisexy.” I hand-picked two lines from this sexy song. “Keep
the blood flowing down to your feet. Brother Lois will be around in a minute
with a bucket filled with squirreled meat.” The sexiness of this song is as
obvious as the fact Lois is a male, it’s normally difficult to keep the blood
flowing down to our feet, and <i>everyone</i> knows how to squirrel meat.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p style="background-color: black;"> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">My final selection is “Sexy and I
Know It” by LMFAO. Here are the lyrics that probably took 27 seconds to write.
“Wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle yeah/ Wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle yeah,
yeah.” I like the two “yeah’s” at the end for variety. Certainly, the penning
of those words rivals Jose Feliciano’s talent for creatively stringing together
wonderful lyrics that ring in your head unmercifully for the rest of the day.</span></span><span style="color: #202124;"><o:p style="background-color: white;"></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: arial; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEJ0fsBjW7tAvbW2CJ__TpfNcNDOWKQuuBIaCTclwgKwgKNzeaT8N6RGC3XN9-N4-CyNVs8X2qjkgtLubwn_b4T63zJNWaBd8ECcjEImpUiPJB8SlHLV1WEwvDB0aoPDORTwdsGavpoCf2lPfTqgirxNFX_W8ULePesRz6tyKLtG0KCekPQmfc7ZL7Bg/s500/blog%201.111.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="482" data-original-width="500" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEJ0fsBjW7tAvbW2CJ__TpfNcNDOWKQuuBIaCTclwgKwgKNzeaT8N6RGC3XN9-N4-CyNVs8X2qjkgtLubwn_b4T63zJNWaBd8ECcjEImpUiPJB8SlHLV1WEwvDB0aoPDORTwdsGavpoCf2lPfTqgirxNFX_W8ULePesRz6tyKLtG0KCekPQmfc7ZL7Bg/w400-h386/blog%201.111.webp" width="400" /></span></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I wasn’t completely honest about
why I wrote this blog. Yes, I saw strange Adele lyrics, but mostly I have been
dealing with a mini-writer’s block. I’m writing a novel, but it’s been like the
funny part of my brain stopped working. My sense of humor needed a kickstart,
so I needed to do something about it. People have been visiting my blog lately
in record numbers, so I decided to start there and find a topic where I could
be sarcastic and light-hearted and make myself laugh a little. This is my
writing tip of the day—mini- or maxi-writer’s block. Change gears and write
about something else at least temporarily to see if it can get you jumpstarted
again. And if you’re interested in one of my books where humor flowed out of me
freely, check out the following <a href=" https://www.amazon.com/s?k=Jeff+LaFerney&i=stripbooks&ref=nb_sb_noss_1" target="_blank">link</a>. </span></span></span></p>The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-34045299190755929452022-05-09T10:28:00.004-07:002024-02-02T22:48:30.555-08:00Selling Books in Public<p> <span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Back in the summer of 2010, my first novel, <i>Loving the Rain</i>, was published in paperback only (I had no clue about ebooks). I was an 8th-grade English teacher who loved books, but I found I had no idea what to do with mine. I bravely ordered 200 copies. My students and fellow teachers were very supportive, and I sold about 100 copies easily. But what else could I do? I decided to attempt to sell them in public. I first went to the farmers' markets in the town where I taught and the town where I grew up. Both let me come for free initially. Next, both of those same towns had art in the park events, which was much more lucrative than the farmers' markets. I've sold my books at craft shows, book clubs, flee markets, workshops, Kiwanis clubs, bookstores, libraries, author expos, and town festivals, and I've learned a lot. The purpose of the rest of this blog is to share my insights on how to sell. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5z9TcYPaHCE-FswzeiAkL4t1AWWOC5wJx0Nl7Qa6p743fAAWNqTHV4BUVhWRZGXz1Jc4lL_S94blDHg6SwMHTwzVtnPQp1UxO_mgzfeqO7HyvCPLHA0xMdEkttvHJ4S3dNJrynuCp0ThWPgI2Xt0wh1-toc-QVNWSqjj6QdKtfg5RDbymx_k_xypXHw/s2700/books%2065.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5z9TcYPaHCE-FswzeiAkL4t1AWWOC5wJx0Nl7Qa6p743fAAWNqTHV4BUVhWRZGXz1Jc4lL_S94blDHg6SwMHTwzVtnPQp1UxO_mgzfeqO7HyvCPLHA0xMdEkttvHJ4S3dNJrynuCp0ThWPgI2Xt0wh1-toc-QVNWSqjj6QdKtfg5RDbymx_k_xypXHw/w266-h400/books%2065.jpeg" width="266" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">1. Have some common sense and thick skin when people you know don't buy from you. When I first started, every time I saw someone I knew, I assumed they'd buy a book from me, and when they didn't, it bothered me--until I gave it a little sensible thought. Just because the person is someone from work, your neighbor, your relative, or an acquaintance from church, it doesn't mean they're a reader. A few may purchase a book just to "support you," but if the person isn't a reader, they just stopped to say hello and congratulations. They don't buy because they don't read. There's nothing you can do about that, and it's okay. It would be like you stopping by the farmer's market, and your neighbor is selling beets, okra, eggplant, and collard greens, none of which you like or know how to cook. You aren't going to walk out with some collard greens anyway, just to be supportive if you don't like them or know how to cook them. Non-readers don't buy books. It's something you need to understand when you're selling, so you can stay upbeat even in the face of "rejection." </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">2. You don't have to sell shoppers on your books. Readers are attracted to books. I've been shopping with my wife before, bored and impatient, and then I see a bookstore. That's where I go. I read. I'm attracted to books. Readers love used book stores. Readers go to garage sales just to see if there are books. Readers look at their friends' bookshelves. And readers buy books at craft shows, art shows, and farmers' markets. You don't have to be a salesman. The more you talk about your books, the more likely you are to turn them away empty-handed. Tell the shoppers the books are mysteries, horror, romance, or suspense, but don't tell them what they're about or how long it took you to write them or what your characters are like or why you wrote the book. Let them read the back covers. Answer their questions with only a few words. Be polite and attentive, and let them decide for themselves like every shopper in a bookstore does. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhROJRrbXp0t524a8j06nmAP_c3MB9667l_JpoH4OjYzVOXQm5bw07c-_0BikGZGKeQjs3-_d9e402BitgIHGgtNxJojzKHBpp5RZBUVhMB3RxF1i1AHSyZrm4Fkj8v6B8nd3SYr2NBFs0w5BeV3qC6YCEM6z7R3IVzMOkdcDx1KaQJSKtv8qXC0OXKaA/s640/blog%2010.1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="429" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhROJRrbXp0t524a8j06nmAP_c3MB9667l_JpoH4OjYzVOXQm5bw07c-_0BikGZGKeQjs3-_d9e402BitgIHGgtNxJojzKHBpp5RZBUVhMB3RxF1i1AHSyZrm4Fkj8v6B8nd3SYr2NBFs0w5BeV3qC6YCEM6z7R3IVzMOkdcDx1KaQJSKtv8qXC0OXKaA/w640-h429/blog%2010.1.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">3. If you're selling books and there are people standing in front of your table, other shoppers will walk by without stopping. So what do you do...or don't you do? First, don't attract non-book buyers to your table. Book lovers will walk directly to your table, usually to stare at your book covers for an uncomfortably long time. People who aren't book lovers may be interested in seeing what you're selling, but they usually don't stop. Don't try to draw them over. They might come to be polite, but if they aren't readers, they won't purchase anything, and an actual buyer might walk by while they're standing there. Don't put candy on your table for kids. They'll come for it, and the parents might stay to talk. Say hi to people as they walk by to show you're friendly, but don't try to get them to stop. Second, attract book buyers. Have attractive displays with pictures, banners, table coverings, books on book stands, etc. You want them to notice you have attractive covers and new books. And then smile, say hello, and talk as little as possible about your books. Let them sell themselves.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">4. Hints: Stop yawning, stay off your phone, stand whenever people are around, herd friends and family to the back side of the table to keep them from blocking your display, and if someone stays and talks too long, see if you can get them to move to the side or ask them if they mind if other shoppers can get to your books. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">5. Avoid pictures or posters/banners that show your book in e-book format. That gives every single shopper an excuse to not buy your book. They say they'll buy it on e-book, but believe me, they won't. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">6. Have a credit card reader or application on your phone for credit card sales. PayPal, for instance, will take a small fee for the transaction, but if you only accept cash, you'll lose sales. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">7. Give out business cards or bookmarks to buyers so they can contact you if they want to make future purchases.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMldjSglCQFz-cDB6CAayeTkPL4ArqNyncwrmm0k9r0MGJ6I_Eyh7XAMW_8euDk_cCLLn0TbHKX1ABqP6Z2LCSOAwe0RiicQh37rapiSPvIRwHHnD4irUrXBIxsSf-SHcG_XhiO-_iyDdMxfaZSPUwCdiDFcipANaLf7007ecVc5amFvhf-q1380TIWg/s500/blog%2010.1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMldjSglCQFz-cDB6CAayeTkPL4ArqNyncwrmm0k9r0MGJ6I_Eyh7XAMW_8euDk_cCLLn0TbHKX1ABqP6Z2LCSOAwe0RiicQh37rapiSPvIRwHHnD4irUrXBIxsSf-SHcG_XhiO-_iyDdMxfaZSPUwCdiDFcipANaLf7007ecVc5amFvhf-q1380TIWg/w400-h324/blog%2010.1.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">8. Have a pen to sign your books...or pre-sign them. Buyers love autographed books. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">9. More hints: Be kind...say thank you...be humble. Don't wear clothes like t-shirts promoting college teams or political affiliations because people will judge you. Compliment your shoppers, give kids discounts, and be willing to take a little off the sale price for people who buy multiple books (if they ask). </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">So someone stops by your attractive table with your books displayed neatly. You say, "Hi, how are you today?" After they reply, if they haven't said anything about your books, comment on something they're wearing or compliment them on something not offensive like "I like your hat" or comment on their college t-shirt. "Ohio State has a big game today." When they ask me about my books (I have eight), I say, "These three are detective crime mysteries. This one is a mystery/treasure hunt with ties to World War II. These three are time-travel action adventures." They might say, "What is your first book?" I say, "<i>Loving the Rain</i>." They might say "Does it matter what order you read them in?" I say, "Both of these are series, but they can be read stand alone." They might say, "What one is your favorite?" I smile and say, "Each one was my favorite until I wrote the next one." They might say, "Can kids read them?" I say, "There's no sex or swearing if that's what you're asking." They might say, "What are they about?" I hand them a book and say, "You can read the back covers and see what you like best." Are you getting the concept that I don't say much? Rambling on about your book and trying to convince people to buy your book are two things that simply rarely ever work. Let the books sell themselves while you are polite, friendly, and attentive. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Over the years, I've been to many events which included multiple authors. Some of those authors have literally left without a single sale. I've also shared a table at events where I've sold a lot, and my author friend sold almost none. There are reasons for that. So now that you have my experienced advice, start planning to sell in public. I've sold thousands of books, and I make far more money per book on printed copies than I do on line, and you will too. </span></p><p><br /></p>The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-24903016276517034972022-04-02T17:50:00.009-07:002024-02-19T15:42:15.902-08:00The Pharmacy<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">I retired from teaching English five years ago. Since then, I’ve had
five or six different part-time jobs, but the most interesting has to be as a
pharmacy technician for a Kroger Pharmacy. I’m into my fourth year now. As you
might expect, I have some stories. Some are listed below.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">Our lead tech once had to answer the phone as a doctor called in her father’s
prescription for Viagra. She was also there when he came to pick it up.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">I waited on a patient who picked up Fluconazole, which is for fungal infections.
She asked to speak with our pharmacist, who cautiously prepared to give
instructions for the usage. “I’m not sure what you’re using it for, but…” She
was cut off as the young lady announced far too loudly. “It’s for my vagina!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">A customer came in and asked our pharmacist if we had any tablets. Well,
we have all sorts of pills, capsules, and tablets, so the pharmacist said, “We
have a lot of different kinds of tablets. Can you be more specific?” The
customer responded, “You know…iPad, Android, Galaxy…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 44.25pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: -26.25pt;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"" style="text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDYNIYoSlbGuOqOVhSfeOtIvZsPKB1-rkUYwr-ETSwslQEb3PK6nDq6BHGn9OiTOLOwN6lmS_iR7v32hn_aGMZiBUQp0im3w3qSKF6kreAFjr0qS-3dKoPBu3WyMtsoou_22vO555qZHWg2gYa6n5IVIY7Gb8XkyjU6XJLv02sfgALFaJYMtaz-HYhQA/s612/blog%201.1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="612" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDYNIYoSlbGuOqOVhSfeOtIvZsPKB1-rkUYwr-ETSwslQEb3PK6nDq6BHGn9OiTOLOwN6lmS_iR7v32hn_aGMZiBUQp0im3w3qSKF6kreAFjr0qS-3dKoPBu3WyMtsoou_22vO555qZHWg2gYa6n5IVIY7Gb8XkyjU6XJLv02sfgALFaJYMtaz-HYhQA/w320-h213/blog%201.1.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"" style="font-size: large; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">At the drive-through at the pharmacy, at times, the line was
extraordinarily long. One day a customer pulled up after a long wait and looked
at me through the window, standing there in my Kroger pharmacy smock. He said,
“I’ll have a venti caramel macchiato, steamed, two shots vanilla, and caramel
sprinkles.” I stared at him a moment and said, “This is the drive-through for
the pharmacy. We don’t take Starbucks orders.” He said, “Oh, man, I’ve been in
this line for a half hour. Can you run down to Starbucks and get it for me?” I
said, “Um, no sir. You’ll have to go inside.” It’s worth saying that I’ve also
had a person drive up and ask for me to get him some ice cream and beer. I
didn’t; however, I did have his cholesterol medicine.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><b style="font-size: large;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">A lady called one of our techs for help finding a man. She wanted
a travel companion and claimed she’d pay for everything. Her only stipulations
were he had to be single, couldn’t have tattoos, and with great emphasis, she
said he must have “No moostache.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">I listened in to a conversation with a male customer and our
female pharmacist. “Why are my blood pressure pills keeping me from having an
erection?” I guess that was a less uncomfortable discussion than the one from
the guy from the nudist colony (yes, apparently, there is one in our
community). He was picking up his Sildenafil, the generic for Viagra. He told
our female pharmacist he called it his “Sildena-feel good.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">A confused technician, after reading doctor's directions for a
prescription for Diazepam, the generic for Valium, asked our pharmacist, “It
says here for the patient to insert the pill into her vagina. Is that a thing?”
The pharmacist admitted it was unusual, but yes, it was a thing. So the
technician said, and I quote, “If she needs a Valium for her va-jay-jay, she
needs to take a break.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">On a rainy, gusty evening, a regular customer pulled up—a customer
who always, and I mean always, looked confused. He handed me a written
prescription for Hydrocodone for pain. I checked his profile, and he didn’t
have any other previous prescriptions for the medicine, so I knew our
pharmacist would have to check his history in the database before we went
through the process of filling the controlled substance. He asked when he could
have it, and I told him we’d need about an hour. He said he wanted it “Now.” I
told him that wasn’t possible and there were many reasons. He asked to have his
prescription back, so he could go somewhere else. I told him it would probably take
longer somewhere else since he was our customer, in addition to having the same
issues we had, but he demanded I give him the script back. I shrugged my
shoulders and put it in the drawer and pushed it open. He grabbed the paper,
and then a tremendous gust of wind blew it out of his hands. We both watched it
flutter away into the darkness and pouring rain. He stared at me with his mouth
hanging open, that same confused look I was accustomed to seeing. I felt I had
to say something, so I said, “I’ll see you in a month, Mr. ______.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b style="text-indent: -36pt;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></b><span style="text-indent: -36pt;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></span></p>
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<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsqCYalL0j6aaP9eRFNplqK2KH_sDlnaKOfkXrpTuYff1b_InT3_dGfvHrmCtbf0m3XlhQklKZ_Ho0MijmvvCxUXw7cksIlSgfeMgSLQNFN_RusXzumNTlEb1q16ZbbufM2OXvXPPGU3NocAIrNKCPdWwCd2WkfDrm-QWlF1KohfyC3bs7mfpYr1_atA/s275/blog%201.2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsqCYalL0j6aaP9eRFNplqK2KH_sDlnaKOfkXrpTuYff1b_InT3_dGfvHrmCtbf0m3XlhQklKZ_Ho0MijmvvCxUXw7cksIlSgfeMgSLQNFN_RusXzumNTlEb1q16ZbbufM2OXvXPPGU3NocAIrNKCPdWwCd2WkfDrm-QWlF1KohfyC3bs7mfpYr1_atA/w320-h213/blog%201.2.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">There used to be a regular customer in the drive-through. He couldn’t
hear a word I said, no matter how I said it—even through the phone he could
access outside our window. But at the beginning, I didn’t know he was nearly deaf.
So the first time, after shouting at him “What is your birthdate...date of
birth…the day you were born!?” with no word recognition, I decided to write him
a note. I took a white paper bag and wrote in huge letters, “What is your
birthdate?” He took the bag from the drawer, looked at it, stretched it as far
from his face as he could get it, and finally said, “I can’t <i>see</i> this!”
I struggle sometimes to keep my sarcasm to myself, so I said, “You <i>did</i> drive
here, didn’t you?” He shouldn’t have. He didn’t hear me. He drove away
empty-handed.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">A lady, after waiting quite some time in the drive-through line, finally
got up to the window. Obviously, she hadn’t put her car in park because while
looking through her purse for her credit card, she managed to step on the gas,
and her car shot forward out of view. Immediately, the car behind her pulled up
to the window as I stood there stunned from watching her car zoom away.
Eventually, she walked up and stood between the new car and the window and
dropped her card in the drawer.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">A car drove up. The driver parked past the window, but the back seat
window lined up perfectly. He reached down, grabbed the lever for his reclining
seat, and dropped backward, nearly parallel with the ground. While lying on his
back, he reached across his body and rolled his window down. Straining, he
lifted his head, telling me his name and birthdate through his back window. As
humorous as that was, it was nothing compared to his efforts to reach from his
back, through the window, to place his money into the basket to pay for his
transaction, an action only a contortionist could pull off. “I don’t need a
bag,” he announced from his prone position. That was nice of him, but he was
getting 93 cents in change, and we were out of quarters, so he got nine dimes
and three pennies I had to put in a little basket he could only reach because
of some miracle of nature. He caught the edge of the basket in his fingertips
and carefully swung it through the window, dumping two pill bottles, three receipts,
and twelve coins on his face. Sheepishly, he raised his seat back up and drove
away.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">A transaction was taking too long for the car next in line, so the
driver kindly started honking his horn like an idiot. Well, the passenger in
the car at the window turned and flipped off the kind, patient driver behind
him and started swearing like “a sailor.” He wasn’t a sailor because had he
ever been in the military, he’d have died in action. The dumb passenger climbed
out of his passenger door and continued to swear at the honker, who incredibly
told him to get back in his car before he shot him. Yes…true story. Dumb
Not-a-Sailor started yelling, “Go ahead and shoot me. I dare you.” What? Why? I
had to ask the customer I was waiting on to get his friend to get back in the
car before a murder occurred. We called the police, and the customer with the
gun never got his prescription. Another Valium customer? I wonder where he
inserted his meds.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">A guy drove up to the drive-through and asked if we gave flu shots. I
said we did. He asked, “Could I get one right now? I’ve been waiting in this
line forever.” I told him he had to come inside to register and that if he
didn’t have an appointment, there could be a long wait. He replied, “The
pharmacist can’t just give me a shot here in the drive-through?” Stunned, I was
almost at a loss for words—almost. “How do you suspect you’re going to get your
shoulder inside the building because I’m certain you can’t fit through the
drawer.” I even pushed it open for him to visualize.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><b><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A<b> </b></span><span style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"" style="font-size: large;">fun customer stepped up to the register inside the pharmacy just as
the power went out. Though the power came back on quickly, all of our computers
shut down and had to be rebooted, which, unfortunately, doesn’t happen quickly.
I told the man the computers went down. He said, “What’s the delay?” I said,
“The computers need to reboot.” He said, “Well, that’s not </span><i style="font-family: Helvetica, "sans-serif";">my</i><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif"" style="font-size: large;"> problem.”
I don’t know whose problem it was if it wasn’t his.</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFEin7x76jdNXvQ8I0fX0yCdLiwp4el0xCwvle05RvvOaabeeilAyzFWeFKVFSwNTeX3d2eKbkhRZ57hMI9SijJCFdsyKLJT9z4MIhXMkmfkLk1-I_k0pEAvziXePNEC-0x_pf-tgk3TwVJBbFZ3FUoKrz3-eIxRB3PXB1XdSEV6ClL68NzDQFtD_IAQ/s299/blog%201.4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="299" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFEin7x76jdNXvQ8I0fX0yCdLiwp4el0xCwvle05RvvOaabeeilAyzFWeFKVFSwNTeX3d2eKbkhRZ57hMI9SijJCFdsyKLJT9z4MIhXMkmfkLk1-I_k0pEAvziXePNEC-0x_pf-tgk3TwVJBbFZ3FUoKrz3-eIxRB3PXB1XdSEV6ClL68NzDQFtD_IAQ/w320-h180/blog%201.4.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span face="Helvetica, "sans-serif""><span style="font-size: medium;">I have to say, I don’t have the retirement thing
figured out what with two part-time jobs, an editing business, and novel
writing, marketing, and sales, but there’s no denying people are interesting
creatures and great characterization material. If you’re a writer and have the
need for an editor, there’s information <a href="https://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/p/the-red-pen-editor-page.html" target="_blank">here</a> on my blog. If you’re a reader,
please check out my eight novels. I would love for you to give them a
try.</span></span></div>The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-65216259504393849212022-03-25T20:35:00.016-07:002023-09-30T13:42:46.269-07:00Author Notes<p class="MsoNormal"><span><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">An author’s note can have
many uses, but it is generally a way for authors to speak directly to their
readers about their work. It might explain what they created or why they created
it. It could be a reflection of what they learned while writing their novels or
how they grew as an author. Since it’s used to address the audience directly,
it could create a connection between authors and their readers, possibly making
the work more memorable or meaningful. It might be a statement authors feel
needs to be made, or it could be an explanation of how reality mingles with
fiction, so readers are better informed.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana; font-size: medium; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: white;">One of my favorite authors, the
late Robert B. Parker of the fantastic Spenser series, wrote a book called <i>Double
Play</i>. It’s written about Jackie Robinson and his bodyguard, Joseph Burke,
in 1947 when Robinson broke baseball’s color barrier. I’m going to quote Parker’s
author note verbatim. “This is a work of fiction about a real man. Most of what
I’ve written, I made up. I have, however, attempted to render Jackie Robinson
accurately—as he was, or as I imagined him to be in 1947 when I was turning
fifteen, and he was changing the world. The rest is altogether fiction. It may
be more Burke’s story than Jackie’s, but without Jackie, Burke would have had
no story. And neither would I.” It was a phenomenal book, but Parker felt the
need to not only give Jackie Robinson credit but also make it clear to his
readers that he made the story up. That’s a good use of an author note. </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: white; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background-color: black; font-size: medium;">John Grisham wrote an author note for Calico Joe, another of my favorite books, about a fictional event in the 1973 professional baseball season. He wrote, "The mixing of real people, places, and events into a novel is tricky business. This is a story about the Cubs and Mets and the 1973 season, but, please, all you die-hard fans, don't read this with any expectation of accuracy. I have completely rearranged schedules, rosters, rotations, records, batting orders, and I've even thrown in some fictional players to mix it up with the real ones. This is a novel, so any mistake should be promptly classified as part of the fiction."</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUS83KvilXsJaxME7RjadXK-qa62AREFQHH9IA6ANg-p7yjDYuwwhLMbkIhYxol4eJgEJtA5NVr5Z8ZAoy8-7LDl0Cae28mIxakqvFIxkZZPwO4krUhCCRTCBeqWm2KLMSd6exrmTZkc8XhX_nt6o3hJ8j-k0xma2idgQGKlUyWewILmDFqBmNpqyjgw/s500/author%20notes%206.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="375" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUS83KvilXsJaxME7RjadXK-qa62AREFQHH9IA6ANg-p7yjDYuwwhLMbkIhYxol4eJgEJtA5NVr5Z8ZAoy8-7LDl0Cae28mIxakqvFIxkZZPwO4krUhCCRTCBeqWm2KLMSd6exrmTZkc8XhX_nt6o3hJ8j-k0xma2idgQGKlUyWewILmDFqBmNpqyjgw/w240-h320/author%20notes%206.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl71ZvtGx83sjFGw5X35DXt-w3sHunclOGrinlr6r9XpDWICJcYNddVi4VEwS2MFoP01YcXwNbliXeyPAsPZvpRE4vweQLv3AFxA-KrCgRg4u7Tw7RDblskvuUL8wNFqkDK46GXPb4XcAQXq0i5hwi3rrYIxRcfyIu6itQQp8Oh8NUC0HucA94JHkSjQ/s346/author%20notes%207.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="195" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl71ZvtGx83sjFGw5X35DXt-w3sHunclOGrinlr6r9XpDWICJcYNddVi4VEwS2MFoP01YcXwNbliXeyPAsPZvpRE4vweQLv3AFxA-KrCgRg4u7Tw7RDblskvuUL8wNFqkDK46GXPb4XcAQXq0i5hwi3rrYIxRcfyIu6itQQp8Oh8NUC0HucA94JHkSjQ/w181-h320/author%20notes%207.jpg" width="181" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background: white; color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: 107%;">Harlan Coben is my favorite
author, but on the first page of <i>Miracle Cure</i>, there's a "note from
the author," which is awful. It says "Okay, if this is the
first book of mine you're going to try, stop now. Return it. Grab another. It's
okay." Wow. He also said, "Please know that I haven't read <i>Miracle
Cure</i> in at least twenty years. It is my second published novel, one I
wrote...when I was just a naive lad....I'm hard on it.” He said, “Man, what was
I thinking?... </span>It <span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: 107%;">is a bit preachy in spots and sometimes dated.” Then he said, “Flawed
and all, I love this book." </span>It doesn't sound like he loved it because if he did, he wouldn't have written the author note. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;">I say instead of putting
forth a warning, he should’ve revised his book. Made it better. Republished it
so he could be proud of it. Or if he didn’t want to revisit the manuscript, he should’ve
unpublished it so people don’t read it, thinking it’s on a par with his other
works and find themselves disappointed. I was disappointed. I couldn’t get it
out of my head that Coben was uncomfortable with me reading it, and I found out
from an ill-advised author note. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: 107%;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">I’m an author too, and I’ve
used author notes to make important comments a few times but never to make
excuses for my writing or to warn my readers they may not enjoy my book. In my mystery,
<i>Lost and Found</i>, there is a treasure hunt and a search for a grandfather
with dementia. The novel starts in Germany just before WWII. A German-Jewish
family sends a son to America with a treasure of art. As I researched the
book, I found ample opportunity to include recorded historical events
throughout my mystery. But the book was fiction, so I made up things as well,
and some of the non-fictional events included my made-up characters and their fictional
activities. I felt compelled at the end of the book to explain what was factual
and what wasn’t. I used an author note to do so and felt it was a nice
addition to my book. </span><span style="color: #0f1111; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 10.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifw9geLBMXP_g2mu1gm6RYMqz4LKv_Bp4prfCsrDlJzieF52JhN6HUkhvDyB9WlYVeqK9UIldaZ8XwpGnOghfF6v4pw-Jf36q7g2lin-Zmdz4_nA-MlPTNuZl2JxdANQTBZUzu_Z0M6KAehi0EgQpdOeTCY3Nb8pZ6gamqZcbM5mzOi6UQqwu8kQ-IIInU/s1500/1695673088.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1383" data-original-width="1500" height="590" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifw9geLBMXP_g2mu1gm6RYMqz4LKv_Bp4prfCsrDlJzieF52JhN6HUkhvDyB9WlYVeqK9UIldaZ8XwpGnOghfF6v4pw-Jf36q7g2lin-Zmdz4_nA-MlPTNuZl2JxdANQTBZUzu_Z0M6KAehi0EgQpdOeTCY3Nb8pZ6gamqZcbM5mzOi6UQqwu8kQ-IIInU/w640-h590/1695673088.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">In my two most recent books,
I’ve had to include an author note similar to one from John Green and
<i>A Fault in Our Stars</i>. He said, "This is not so much an author's note as an author's reminder of what was printed in small type a few pages ago: This book is a work of fiction. I made it up. Neither novels nor their readers benefit from attempts to divine whether any facts hide inside a story. Such efforts attack the very idea that made-up stories can matter, which is sort of the foundational assumption of our species. I appreciate your cooperation in this matter."</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Maybe he was serious because
of some feedback or some similarities to something real in his life or of
someone he knew, or maybe he was sarcastically joking since people know he
writes fiction. Either way, this is a good use of an author note, and it’s a
use I made of the notes in my last two novels.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: 107%;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">In <i>Jumper</i>, the first
book in my time-travelers series, I literally got some one-star reviews because, as
I was told, the Staff of Moses wasn’t made of sapphire and it never was a
possession of Adam in the Garden of Eden. There were other Biblical references
that I used as ideas, but readers wanted me to know that I was a heretic, and I
didn’t know my Bible. Well, I never said what I wrote was factual. I wrote a
fictional novel. I made things up. I was also told that the Jordanian military
wasn’t an elite fighting force. Well, again, so what? They were<i> </i>in <i>my</i> book
because I made it up. I did plenty of research to get peripheral details
correct, but I never claimed to be writing non-fiction. I was criticized for
making Muslims my bad guys in the Middle East as if I was making some political
statement, but I never mentioned Muslims, and the true baddy was an Israeli.
The only reason the book was in Jordan was because that was where Mt. Nebo was
and where the Staff of Moses was found and where one of my main Biblical
characters was actually from. It wasn’t political at all.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: 107%;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">So when I wrote the
follow-ups, <i>Planer</i> and <i>Warper,</i> I wrote author notes. I said, “I
shouldn’t have to say this, but I’m compelled to remind my readers that this is
a work of fiction. I made this up, including stories that often have a basis in
the Bible.” I said other things including that they’re not political books. But
mostly I said, “I’m telling you as clearly as I can that I made things up like
authors do.” It’s what Robert B. Parker did. It's what John Grisham did. It’s
what John Green did. It’s what J.K. Rowling did in <i>Harry Potter</i>. I have
to wonder if people wrote her and told her the magic that was done was impossible
like they did to me to tell me my details weren't accurate. So I wrote an
author note like many authors do, and I reminded my readers I am a fictional
novelist. If things seem so real that I have to be reminded elements are
inaccurate, it means I did a good job researching and making my made-up story
believable. </span></span></p><span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVkBb5DQfzMErEbwKjLLvqPgHAf9KFfWh2U4xOaNMiahuHlmwRAOuQVGy9ARYNw8VDa0R5lcEc2xufv0TAW4zbRCHP8uJhW9tEM1Cq-cOjwTreXXcfL28GSK3Y-kSfml-1lc_m1lk8_9ywR07fquuSQoOKZCZ8hM069WZz4MKskQZ2NMTn8zghtGe24g/s463/author%202.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="463" data-original-width="400" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVkBb5DQfzMErEbwKjLLvqPgHAf9KFfWh2U4xOaNMiahuHlmwRAOuQVGy9ARYNw8VDa0R5lcEc2xufv0TAW4zbRCHP8uJhW9tEM1Cq-cOjwTreXXcfL28GSK3Y-kSfml-1lc_m1lk8_9ywR07fquuSQoOKZCZ8hM069WZz4MKskQZ2NMTn8zghtGe24g/w173-h200/author%202.png" width="173" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiW8FQDQwa9O8MGivMoXUKhMK57_ReMimoHOU_bGB59XdCoQ7GCbBzBhyHyTrbftYP5llBw0zys_Nzm-RKZ4x35iu3EmtCmf63aeU4AqyM1FHxWOrxBPRib-HtLQkqWDjOSqA4ue-xVAs6w5EKPtfzaAj0G_NOAYXnaXJA1fkSrBx6bW69Nomiznx4Nw/s557/author%204.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="557" data-original-width="480" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiW8FQDQwa9O8MGivMoXUKhMK57_ReMimoHOU_bGB59XdCoQ7GCbBzBhyHyTrbftYP5llBw0zys_Nzm-RKZ4x35iu3EmtCmf63aeU4AqyM1FHxWOrxBPRib-HtLQkqWDjOSqA4ue-xVAs6w5EKPtfzaAj0G_NOAYXnaXJA1fkSrBx6bW69Nomiznx4Nw/w173-h200/author%204.png" width="173" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOLOpCEUDk8ClgMms7AFi8C1GQpvSAe1F9aQbYJz4QA10T5AcAL4ft9tmpMQfwy9I0h9CEqFQ-lmg9fJ4N-gq13zfHmKZRiuNCkRStt83CA-BVL5iue53ZFPh44-c0rbRSGSheG1rdHT6T2mlHV2pcheF0r-TUMBgLWAms1OacZPQRyJ1oeBHm-BmlkA/s869/Warper%202.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="869" data-original-width="750" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOLOpCEUDk8ClgMms7AFi8C1GQpvSAe1F9aQbYJz4QA10T5AcAL4ft9tmpMQfwy9I0h9CEqFQ-lmg9fJ4N-gq13zfHmKZRiuNCkRStt83CA-BVL5iue53ZFPh44-c0rbRSGSheG1rdHT6T2mlHV2pcheF0r-TUMBgLWAms1OacZPQRyJ1oeBHm-BmlkA/w173-h200/Warper%202.png" width="173" /></a></span></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">So if you’re an author and there
is something you feel is important to say, say it in an author note. Just don’t
tell your readers to put it back and try something else because it’s so flawed.
That’s my advice from The Red Pen. </span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #0f1111; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 10.5pt; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-78807546513482198442022-02-08T14:36:00.006-08:002023-09-30T15:25:39.748-07:00 In My Humble Opinion<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">There is a scene in <i>The Princess Bride</i> where Vizzini
keeps remarking that the Dread Pirate Roberts’s deeds are inconceivable. “Inconceivable!”
he shouts. Finally, Inigo Montoya makes a rather obvious reply. “You keep using
that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” Exactly.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjL3xSTj_6VQ8IIhG3QOeBvdg4PFNnlQ_SG3uxqzZq_n-l_n8NFjkCF_6mJFyx9XRDkA9tqMOAVc8PkwLkWd0XoYsmMzFn4Zhf7MYdJYfvSgzoMibVOQw_PLACQRTXanXZPco3vYq5b8tNZ4-f3xj83d_C1fq9tt76-H2C5w676kZZp-sglQ3gMbcAonw=s450" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjL3xSTj_6VQ8IIhG3QOeBvdg4PFNnlQ_SG3uxqzZq_n-l_n8NFjkCF_6mJFyx9XRDkA9tqMOAVc8PkwLkWd0XoYsmMzFn4Zhf7MYdJYfvSgzoMibVOQw_PLACQRTXanXZPco3vYq5b8tNZ4-f3xj83d_C1fq9tt76-H2C5w676kZZp-sglQ3gMbcAonw=w256-h320" width="256" /></span></a></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">There is another word people use, and I don’t think it
means what they think it means. Humbled. Humbled means to lower (someone) in
dignity or importance, typically one who was previously thought to be superior.
To make someone understand they aren’t as important or special as they thought.
Synonyms? How about humiliate, debase, shame, demean, belittle, degrade, dishonor,
bring down, put down, eat crow, or fall from grace? </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi-MSK65sNUfCw_czRp40ALKEeNj8H54ctw7EMswfHZuofSfjX-Zi-J8DEVKyVuXaRr44eQlyhuoxgeeHiCRZ50zUDijAvOEd69dgVFN4xaXGndXvc3VmYSMAlFivPvDOmEvOYBGbnbG-M8vbOrVZkweS35nIasd3Qt2Z5yB551hwPXFq1XANn8wY7RSQ=s226" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><img border="0" data-original-height="226" data-original-width="223" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi-MSK65sNUfCw_czRp40ALKEeNj8H54ctw7EMswfHZuofSfjX-Zi-J8DEVKyVuXaRr44eQlyhuoxgeeHiCRZ50zUDijAvOEd69dgVFN4xaXGndXvc3VmYSMAlFivPvDOmEvOYBGbnbG-M8vbOrVZkweS35nIasd3Qt2Z5yB551hwPXFq1XANn8wY7RSQ=w314-h320" width="314" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Thirty-three-year-old Marcus Freeman was hired by Notre Dame
to become their next football coach. He said it was “humbling” to be chosen. So
he was elevated from defensive coordinator to his <i>first </i>head coaching
job in one of the most elite programs in the country, and it somehow lowered
his dignity and importance. He shamefully had been belittled.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Mario Cristobal was “honored and humbled” to be named the
Miami Hurricanes' next football coach. Yes, it’s quite an honor to come back to
his alma mater to coach, but what was the humbling part? The part where he was
greeted like a politician who just won an election or the part where he’ll now
make eighty million dollars over the next ten years?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Speaking of politicians, our own president, Joe Biden, said
at his acceptance speech after eighty million <i>people </i>voted for him, “I
am humbled by the trust and confidence you have placed in me.” So a man who
formerly lost the presidential election two other times somehow had to eat
crow when he won. Somehow winning showed him he was less important and special
than he thought. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Iconic rapper, Missy Elliot, won four Grammy Awards, sold over thirty million
records in the United States, was named the best-selling female rapper in Nielsen Music
history, and Billboard ranked her number five of the one hundred greatest
music video artists of all time. So when she was awarded her own star on the
Hollywood Walk of Fame, she said, “I am humbled.” Clearly, after all the
previous recognition, she knew she was good, and the star with her name on it
confirmed she was, right? But she was humiliated to be put down in such a way.
Wait… <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Bill Gates was “deeply humbled to receive the medal of
freedom for [his] foundation’s efforts to make the world more equal for everyone.”
I’m sorry, Bill, it was demeaning to you to be told you made the world a better
place (in your humble opinion)?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Dak Prescott was “humbled” to be named to the Pro Bowl. His
exact words were “it’s humbling.” Yes, being told you’re one of the very best
at your profession is quite degrading and dishonoring. Following
up on a four-year, $160 million contract with a Pro Bowl selection must have
left him feeling embarrassed and ashamed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Poet Daniel Borzutzky won the 2016 National Book Award for
his collection <i>The Performance of Becoming Human</i>. His response? “It was
never anything I expected to happen, and I’m really humbled by the fact that
people read my book so closely and that they’ve cared for it.” So, you, a
master of words, found it troubling that you never expected an award, yet you
won, finding out how impressive you actually are. I’m sure it was shocking to have to admit your
debased opinion of yourself was so wrong. Humbling, in fact. It must have been
awful for you.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEimYRt4tFPBU3IiE75Wm35pu-QuUYDBfZyiL7mLoHfq7E6L0zqs7CPVIEQszOboq53B2Vbu9rWJFzuvZkt_17fUJvHekXwM2CURx510dynjJnc_k0hDjrWOukg0rPyiaVSJc716DnY3h64EuXpWYpeEH0KsF3nDdOesH0S7aUuqE98SPZh4UpCj0L6q7Q=s251" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><img border="0" data-original-height="201" data-original-width="251" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEimYRt4tFPBU3IiE75Wm35pu-QuUYDBfZyiL7mLoHfq7E6L0zqs7CPVIEQszOboq53B2Vbu9rWJFzuvZkt_17fUJvHekXwM2CURx510dynjJnc_k0hDjrWOukg0rPyiaVSJc716DnY3h64EuXpWYpeEH0KsF3nDdOesH0S7aUuqE98SPZh4UpCj0L6q7Q=w320-h256" width="320" /></span></a></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The great writer, C.S. Lewis said, “Humility is not thinking
less of yourself; it’s thinking of yourself less.” I think there’s almost certainly
one constant emotional state or condition of any sports hero, music or acting
star, best-selling artist, billionaire, or lifelong politician—self-confidence.
Probably vanity is a partner of that confidence. So while in the midst of
winning, achieving, setting records, making gazillions of dollars, and wading
through constant attention, adulation, and success, most probably aren’t
particularly humble (I’m sure there are exceptions). What they more likely have
is a huge ego, a tremendous drive for success, and at the very least, a
scattering of awards and achievements. So when they win something or achieve
something else, to say they are humbled is a false demonstration of humility.
It’s a relief, an honor, a recognition for a lifetime of hard work, but it’s
not a reflection that they aren’t as special or important as they thought. They’re
actually being told they <i>are</i> special; they <i>have </i>achieved
something important; they <i>did </i>do something superior. They did something
inconceivable. Oh, wait, I don’t think that word means what you think it means…in
my humble opinion.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/s?k=Jeff+LaFerney&i=stripbooks&ref=nb_sb_noss_1">https://www.amazon.com/s?k=Jeff+LaFerney&i=stripbooks&ref=nb_sb_noss_1</a><br /></span></span></p>The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-4109825577667405482017-05-18T08:14:00.000-07:002017-05-18T08:14:40.566-07:00Apostrophe Rules<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I taught English for thirty years. Once upon a
time, we would teach grammar and punctuation. Not too many kids “got it,” but
at least it was taught. The last few years, before I retired, the only teaching
of punctuation was random and coincidental. It wasn’t in the curriculum. In
some ways, I didn’t miss teaching it. How many times did I hear kids refer to
apostrophes as “flying commas”? How often did I teach apostrophes, focusing on
the very few rules, and then kids began inserting flying commas everywhere they
saw an <i>s</i>? Well, <i>that</i> happened <i>every </i>year.
Now I read internet blogs, articles, and comments and wonder if <i>anyone</i> knows the rules for apostrophes. In
this blog post, I’m going to go over the few apostrophe rules, emphasizing the
pet peeves I have. Uh, yeah, I have a lot of them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rule #1. Apostrophes are used to tell the reader
that letters are missing. Usually this is done in contractions. <i>Do not</i> becomes <i>don’t</i> and the apostrophe tells us the <i>o </i>in <i>not</i> is missing. I
have an irritated side comment here (I think this goes as pet peeves one
through four). This <i>rule </i>about
contractions? It applies for <i>it’s</i>, <i>you’re</i>, <i>they’re, </i>and <i>who’s. </i>It’s =
it is; you’re = you are; they’re = they are; who’s = who is. How is that hard
to comprehend…and therefore spell correctly? Those words are <i>contractions. </i>(I’m doing my best to not
use all caps and loads of exclamation marks). For the love of grammar and
spelling, why do I have to read misspellings of those words every day? </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaAfL4rc38CGjbZ_6cqyz-TrjSYt8R_nCGVHbqdmfutqgIey3Nnn5eE9epzM9o43D_fsOpv77bN5xkaJSCQdxdBeIqETm-lCi6JdjsHNE3grBiMam0gvzIe9vjG8_Nwaq8nZx5ARKX59o-/s1600/a+blog+29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaAfL4rc38CGjbZ_6cqyz-TrjSYt8R_nCGVHbqdmfutqgIey3Nnn5eE9epzM9o43D_fsOpv77bN5xkaJSCQdxdBeIqETm-lCi6JdjsHNE3grBiMam0gvzIe9vjG8_Nwaq8nZx5ARKX59o-/s320/a+blog+29.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Moving
on…You might also use an apostrophe with ’cause (it’s not cuz) or ’til (which
is pet peeve number five and stands for the word <i>until</i>—<i>till</i> is a money
drawer or a way to work up the ground for planting—and is a misspelling of ’til)
or go get ’em (for them) or top o’ the mornin’. The use of the apostrophe in
the previous several examples tells the reader that letters are missing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoRkNF4vdBTSNTF93XUatXmEIbhkRjNPlinEGMX6ET4nUEgF0pPm2jXg7AWckr-2q7NQPl9T9m4EitgQw1unFiy8mriNjZjDX75jfwGD2y3iIawye6GpN2VJ4H_N4QuoHIglLu-Ng3yS_B/s1600/a+blog+25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoRkNF4vdBTSNTF93XUatXmEIbhkRjNPlinEGMX6ET4nUEgF0pPm2jXg7AWckr-2q7NQPl9T9m4EitgQw1unFiy8mriNjZjDX75jfwGD2y3iIawye6GpN2VJ4H_N4QuoHIglLu-Ng3yS_B/s200/a+blog+25.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7fLcqxLSSi4nUl6tNB8V0WCQr3Escsw0p12p8etM517xvCfbKbWQZfM9JtYYStMkfBUdERhJkF6N-lj0EhthKE-th0NdvBeRoGVtuIjm4zl2gcpsf4vRLhGe9_IOjppEBiEdOPsKbHqzO/s1600/a+blog+22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7fLcqxLSSi4nUl6tNB8V0WCQr3Escsw0p12p8etM517xvCfbKbWQZfM9JtYYStMkfBUdERhJkF6N-lj0EhthKE-th0NdvBeRoGVtuIjm4zl2gcpsf4vRLhGe9_IOjppEBiEdOPsKbHqzO/s200/a+blog+22.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rule #2. Do not use an apostrophe to make a plural
of a noun (two bird’s is incorrect) or before the final <i>s</i> in a verb (bird chirp’s is incorrect). The only time an
apostrophe is used in any kind of plural is in the following three instances:
1) Use the apostrophe to form the plural of an abbreviation that combines upper
and lowercase letters or has interior periods: The science department gave ten
M.A.’s and four Ph.D.’s at graduation. 2) Use the apostrophe to form the plural
of lowercase letters: The word has multiple i’s and u’s. 3) Use the apostrophe
to form the plural of words that aren’t nouns but are used as nouns: There are
too many <i>and’s</i> in that sentence.
Besides these three unusual circumstances, one only needs to use an apostrophe
in contractions and to form possessives. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sidenote. Possessive pronouns never have
apostrophes. <i>My, mine, its, his, her, hers,
our, ours, their, theirs, your, </i>and<i>
yours</i> are examples of possessive pronouns. Pronouns are used in place of
nouns, and there are special pronouns that show ownership. They do not have
apostrophes. What am I on, pet peeves number six and seven? <i>They’re</i> means “they are.” <i>Their is</i> a possessive pronoun which means
“belongs to them.” All other times you use the homophone in writing, use <i>there</i>. It’s not so hard to understand,
but I admit, it <i>is </i>slightly harder to
understand than to understand why people write <i>are</i> instead of <i>our</i>. Have
you placed are order yet? Give me a break. Those words don’t even sound alike.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The above image makes me laugh. Moving on, there are exactly three rules for forming
possessives of nouns.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rule #3. To form the possessive (shows ownership)
of a singular noun (singular means there is only <i>one</i> person, place, thing, or idea showing ownership), add an
apostrophe and an <i>s</i> at the end of the
word. Let me insert this crazy additional word to the rule—<i>always</i>. Yeah, I don’t care what the construction sounds like.
There’s a rule for this. For singular words, add an apostrophe and an <i>s</i> to show ownership—always.</span></div>
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<o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It’s time to interrupt to explain where I’m headed
here. There are three simple rules for forming possession in English grammar.
What I’m saying is Mr. (or Mrs.) I-Made-Up-Grammar-For-The-English-Language did
something right for once when inventing apostrophe rules. He (or she) took the
idea that punctuation is meant to help the reader understand what he or she is
reading and devised three simple rules that do that job perfectly. But then Mr.
(or Mrs.) I-Live-In-A-Different-Century-And-I-Think-I’ll-Evolve-The-Language-For-No-Particularly-Good-Reason-Except-To-Throw-In-An-Exception-To-A-Rule-That-Is-Perfectly-Easy-To-Understand-And-Apply
came along and has tried to throw a wrench into something that didn’t need
wrenching. To paraphrase his (or her) exception, I think this would describe it
well: “If the singular word ends with <i>s </i>and
forming the singular possessive inconveniences your pronunciation skills, you
can decide—or not—to use an apostrophe to form the possessive without adding an
<i>s</i>. But there’s not going to be a set
description of when you’ll do this. Just do it randomly and ignore what the
other two possessive rules mean because it’ll be convenient for your eyes and
ears, I guess, sort of.” I think that’s the new rule—which isn’t a rule at all.
So instead of following the rule for singular possessives consistently, the new
age grammar tweekers suggest we can write Jesus’ disciples and Moses’ staff and
diabetes’ victims and Brussels’ capital building. Oh, but go ahead and write
bus’s lights and glass’s liquid and Mr. Jones’s confusion and Chris’s lack of
assurance of whether he (or she) is doing the right thing. Or don’t. It’s kind
of up to you based on how it sounds and looks and makes you feel. Yeah, this is
pet peeve whatever number I’m on, but it’s time to go back to the rules.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rule #4. To form the possessive of a plural noun
that ends with <i>s</i> (as most plural
nouns do), simply put an apostrophe after the <i>s</i>. This will do two things. It’ll tell the reader that the word is
showing ownership <i>and </i>it’ll tell the
reader that the word is plural. So while a reader knows that dog’s paws is
talking about only one dog, the reader also knows that dogs’ paws is talking
about more than one dog’s paws. It’s the beauty of the rule. Glass’s liquid is
one glass while glasses’ liquid is more than one glass. Let me move on to rule
#5 before I focus back on my interruption from above.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rule #5. To form the possessive of a plural noun
that does <i>not</i> end with <i>s</i>, add an apostrophe <i>and</i> <i>s
</i>to show possession. So if women have shoes, you would write women’s shoes.
It’s children’s imaginations and teeth’s cavities. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I stated three rules for possessives. Easy
rules. Applicable rules. Functional rules. And they’re consistent, which in
English is kind of an odd thing. So let’s go back to rule #3 and my
interruption and talk about some weird things. Let’s say I have Mose and Mos
Moses in my English class. They have projects. I say Mose’s project (a project
belongs to Mose). I say Mos’s project (a project belongs to Mos). I say Moses’s
project (a project belongs to one of the Moseses). I say Moseses’ project (a
project belongs to both of the Moseses). I say Moses’ project (I don’t know who
has a project). Only one of my examples leaves me wondering who did the project—Moses’
project. It could mean more than one Mos did a project. It could mean that more
than one Mose did a project. It could mean, according to the rule wrencher,
that one of the Moseses did a project. The only thing it can’t mean is that
both of the Moseses did a project. I can only assume that the rule wrencher
didn’t want to pronounce the possessive word as “Moseses” because it sounds
awkward? Though the Moses family would be made up of the Moseses, right? Pronounced
“Moseses”? I’m being petty here, I know, but <i>Jesus’ disciples</i> literally means that there was more than one Jesu,
and they have disciples. <i>Brussels’
capital building</i> literally means there is more than one Brussel who take “ownership”
of the capital building. <i>Diabetes’ victims</i>
means there is more than one diabete that has victims. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You see, the <i>rules</i>
for punctuating possessives make it <i>very </i>clear
whether a word is singular or plural and whether something belongs to that
word. If there is a Mr. Moses and a Mrs. Moses, together they are the Moseses.
That’s the plural. If together they own something, like a house, it is the
Moseses’ house. If we’re only talking about the wallet that belongs to Mr.
Moses, it would be Mr. Moses’s wallet. That’s the punctuation rule. Those three
Moses examples are pronounced exactly the same way (Moseses, Moseses’, Moses’s)
but have decipherably different meanings. And it’s pet peeve number something or
other that people are messing with the rule for who knows what inconsistent
reason. I suggest that we should celebrate that there is a punctuation mark
that has simple, consistent, understandable, meaningful rules, and that any
reader or writer can use those rules to interpret or give meaning. So Mr. (or Mrs.)
I-Live-In-A-Different-Century-And-I-Think-I’ll-Evolve-The-Language-For-No-Particularly-Good-Reason-Except-To-Throw-In-An-Exception-To-A-Rule-That-Is-Perfectly-Easy-To-Understand-And-Apply,
please stop wrenching a rule that doesn’t need to be wrenched. In other words, “If
it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” <o:p></o:p>Let me give one last odd example. Who cares if <i>Arkansas’s governor</i> is odd to pronounce?
Is there anyone who has read this blog who doesn’t know what it means? Did anyone stop, stutter, and whine that Arkansas's is a weird word? I rest
my case. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So you’ve now read another installment of <i>The Red Pen</i>. I probably gave you a
headache. Certainly I overwhelmed you with a large dose of sarcasm (pet peeve
double digit—<i>dose</i> is a word which is
not an alternate spelling for <i>does</i>). Some
of you are probably poised to quote stylebook notations to me. Some of you are
probably worried for my well-being and are prepared to talk me down from a
building ledge or advise me to “Don’t worry. Be happy.” The reality is I’m
fine. I’ve vented, and writers will go on placing flying commas wherever they
please. I’m certain of it.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-368579548601780802017-03-17T12:23:00.000-07:002017-03-19T16:06:07.598-07:00March Madness<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It’s that time of year. It’s the time for great highs and
great lows. Today, I want to write about one of each. The great “low” happened
during the Vanderbilt-Northwestern NCAA tournament round one game (unless
you’re a Northwestern Wildcat fan, and then it’s a great “high”). The great
“high” is what happened with the Michigan Wolverines in their Big Ten
tournament championship run. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I want to start with the Vanderbilt game. For Northwestern
Wildcat fans, this has been a great year. The team has set a school record for
most wins in a season, and they made it to the NCAA tournament for the first
time in their history, earning an 8 seed against the 9-seeded Vanderbilt
Commodores. At the end of the game, Vanderbilt’s Matthew Fisher-Davis
inexplicably committed an intentional foul with 14 seconds on the clock and his
team ahead by one point. Immediately, he became the reason Vanderbilt lost the
game. Northwestern made both free throws and Riley LaChance missed a
three-point attempt with seven seconds to go. So in our society of blame,
clearly Matthew Fisher-Davis is the reason Vanderbilt lost.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I’ve written about such things before when the University of
Michigan’s punter mishandled a snap on the last play of the game against
Michigan State, who turned the fumble into a game-winning touchdown. Death
threats were made against the punter. I argued that there was lots of “blame”
to go around. <a href="http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/2015/10/death-threats-against-university-of.html">http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/2015/10/death-threats-against-university-of.html</a> So let me make some arguments in favor of
Matthew Fisher-Davis. First, the Vanderbilt Commodores snuck into the
tournament with a 19-15 record. Who was their leading scorer? Yes,
Fisher-Davis. My first argument is that they wouldn’t have even been in the
tournament without him. So, the first round game began (with Fisher-Davis on
the bench), and he substituted in and simply led the team in scoring with 22
points. The next two high scorers had 14 and 12. Fisher-Davis was 7 for 15
shooting (47%). The rest of the team was 14-40 (35%). With 7:12 left in the
game and Vanderbilt down by seven points, Coach Bryce Drew called his last
timeout. That meant when his team scored and went ahead with 17 seconds to play,
he couldn’t call a timeout and set his defense. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So what happened in those last seven minutes? Well,
Fisher-Davis scored eight of his team’s sixteen points, grabbed two rebounds,
and blocked a shot. He made two of four field goal attempts and four of five
free throw attempts. The rest of the team went three of eight from the floor.
In the last minute and thirty-six seconds, the lead changed six times. Video
clearly showed Fisher-Davis looking at his coach as Bryant McIntosh was
dribbling up the floor after Vanderbilt took the lead with seventeen seconds
remaining, and Coach Drew was pointing at McIntosh, so Fisher-Davis fouled him,
thinking (he admits this) that his team was behind by one point. After McIntosh
made two free throws, Vanderbilt had the ball with fourteen seconds to play and
a chance for the winning basket which was missed by a teammate. So, obviously,
it was Fisher-Davis’s fault his team lost, right? It doesn’t matter that
Vanderbilt managed to get behind by fifteen points in the second half. It
doesn’t matter that his team was out-rebounded by seven, that his team made ten
turnovers, that his team committed sixteen fouls, or that his teammates missed
26 shots. It doesn’t matter that his coach ran out of timeouts long before the
last stressful minute and a half were played or that his pointing at McIntosh
sent a mixed-up signal. It doesn’t matter that Fisher-Davis came off the bench
and was the best player for Vanderbilt’s team during the game or that he wasn’t
the one who missed the game winning shot attempt. All that matters is someone
needs to be blamed. I pick that blaming attitude as a low for March Madness. "He's
the type of person [who's going to] feel some blame," forward Luke Kornet
said. "But in the second half, we have no chance if he doesn't make the
shots that he made. We're with him no matter what." That’s great to hear
from a teammate, but the blame game from fans happened and will happen again before the
tournament is over. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Congratulations, Northwestern, by the way. Your team should
get some credit for the win, don’t you think? You know, since you outshot your
opponent by 11% and outrebounded them by seven (and had the lead for 39
minutes and 13 seconds of the game) and made go-ahead baskets or free throws
three times in the last 1:36?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So now for the great “high” of March Madness. The Michigan
Wolverines deserve the nod. On Wednesday, March 8, 2017, the Wolverines
basketball team boarded a plane at the Willow Run Airport in the midst of a
windstorm. I live in Michigan. I watched siding blow off my neighbor’s house.
The metal “For Sale” sign stuck in my front yard was bent in half. My power was
out. Wind was gusting up to 65 miles per hour. A light pole outside of my
subdivision was blown over. And the McDonnell Douglas MD-83 Aircraft blew off
the runway just as it was attempting to lift off. After the aborted take-off,
the plane skidded 400 yards, through a fence and a ditch, and stopped short of
a ravine. Michigan players Jon Teske and Mark Donnal took the doors off the
plane, beginning emergency exit procedures for the 109 passengers. The
inflatable chutes were deployed, but wind gusts caused them to flail and flop
as the engines smoked and smoldered. Coach Beilein, with fumes pouring in his
face, helped hold down the inflatable chutes. The burning engine churned with
noise. Passengers ran from the wreckage because they believed the plane was
going to blow up. Starting point guard Derrick Walton had to have stiches in
his leg. Others had bumps and bruises—and the scare of a lifetime.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Many hours later, they were back on campus with a decision
to make. Did they want to forfeit their game the next day at noon or begin another travel day at six in the morning by boarding another plane to fly to Washington D.C.? They took a
vote. Some didn’t want to do it, but majority ruled. There was a power outage
on the campus, so they weren’t able to practice. Because of the crash
investigation, they weren’t allowed to get their luggage, but they repacked,
silently took a half-hour bus ride to Detroit Metro Airport, white-knuckled a
7:30 take-off that included turbulence, fought the D.C. traffic to get to the
arena for the game which was delayed thirty minutes because of their late
arrival, and dressed in their practice jerseys because their uniforms were
still on the crashed plane. They beat Illinois by 20, a team that had called
the Wolverines “white collar” while the Illini had “toughness” and
“together[ness].” Then they beat the number one seed, Purdue, the next day.
Then they beat the number four seed, Minnesota, the next day. Then they beat
the number two seed, Wisconsin, the next day.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Coach Beilein expressed that the team played “together” with
an “appreciation” for the game and each other. They were “blessed” after what
they went through to be able to play the games. Derrick Walton, Jr., who was
upset that he didn’t make first-team all-conference, outplayed the first teamer
from Minnesota by miles. This is a team that fought through the tournament on
grit and adrenaline and togetherness and belief and desire. There was an
unselfishness about them. The Wolverines didn't seem to care who was scoring or who was in the game. They played with heart. They fought hard from
beginning to end. They overcame psychological trauma and together decided they
could get over the adversity by playing a game. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">March Madness is going to produce some highs and lows, for
sure. What’s incredible is how sports demonstrates the spirit of <span style="font-size: 11pt;">mankind—overcoming </span>adversity, showing heart, dealing with mistakes, meeting goals, working
together, and showing incredible toughness. It’s not about excuse making and blaming.
But, then again, it’s called March Madness, and crazy things happen, including blaming the best player on your team for "losing" the game in one play. </span></div>
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The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-6478985877474159822017-02-15T14:12:00.001-08:002022-04-23T08:36:05.601-07:00Adverbs: Parts of Speech in Writing<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">As I continue my journey through most of the parts
of speech, today I’m going to write about adverbs. I’ve already written about
action verbs <a href="http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/2017/01/parts-of-speech-action-verbs.html">http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/2017/01/parts-of-speech-action-verbs.html</a>
and linking verbs <a href="http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/2017/01/parts-of-speech-linking-verbs.html">http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/2017/01/parts-of-speech-linking-verbs.html</a>
so the obvious next choice is adverbs. They’re the words that describe verbs,
after all. Because I’m an author who is learning as I go, and because I’m an
editor who tries to learn new things so I can give good advice, this blog will
be about how to use adverbs affectively and how to avoid them to make your
writing better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">So what is an adverb? An adverb is the part of
speech that describes or “modifies” verbs, adjectives, and other adverbs. They
usually tell how something is done, but they also tell when, where, and to what
extent. A large number of adverbs end with <i>–ly</i>
which makes those words easy to identify.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">Stephen King says the road to hell is paved with
adverbs. He’s obviously generalizing, but a quote like that suggests writers
should try to avoid adverbs. I’ll get to the words to avoid soon, but before I
do that, I’m going to say that you <i>can’t</i>
always avoid adverbs in your writing. For
instance, adverbs like <i>now</i>, <i>later</i>, <i>then</i>, <i>soon</i>, <i>today</i>, <i>tomorrow</i>, <i>never</i>, <i>sometimes</i>, <i>before</i>, <i>after</i>, <i>forever,</i> and many others—they tell when,
and writing would suffer without “when” words. Adverbs like <i>here</i>, <i>there</i>, <i>somewhere</i>, <i>anywhere</i>, <i>someplace</i>, <i>up</i>, <i>down</i>, <i>inside</i>, and many others tell where. Those words are important. And
just try to write without using words like <i>too</i>,
<i>so</i>, <i>not</i>, and <i>very</i>. Those
words typically describe adjectives and other adverbs, telling “to what extent.”
I’m pretty sure Stephen King, though, is talking specifically about <i>–ly</i> words. I’ll get to specifics about
those in just a bit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">First, however, I need to focus on a common
grammar error regarding adverbs. Adverbs describe verbs; adjectives don’t.
Adjectives describe nouns and pronouns. So when you’re describing an action,
you need to use an adverb. A person doesn’t sing good; they sing well. <i>Good</i> is an adjective; <i>well</i> is an adverb. A person doesn’t talk
loud; they talk loudly. A person doesn’t drive bad; they drive badly. <i>Loud</i> and <i>bad</i> are adjectives, but in the sentences, they are describing <i>talk</i> and <i>drive</i>. Both of those words are verbs, so they need adverbs (<i>loudly</i> and <i>badly</i>) to describe them. Knowing the parts of speech will help
writers avoid grammar errors like those. And here is another issue with
adverbs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">I mentioned that <i>very</i> is an adverb telling “to what extent.” But words like <i>very</i>, <i>so</i>, <i>extremely</i>, and <i>really</i> can definitely be overused,
especially when there are good, specific adjectives you can use to avoid them. Instead
of “very hungry,” a person could be “starving” or “famished.” Instead of “too
loud,” music could be “raucous” or “deafening.” Instead of being “so happy,” a
person could be “ecstatic” or “delighted.” Instead of being “really troubled,”
a patient could be “anxious” or “distressed” or “unsettled.” Instead of “not
happy,” a person could be “angry” or “dejected.” So Stephen King could be right by saying
adverbs are a problem. But most likely, he was talking about <i>–ly</i> words. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">Before I get to that, however, adverbs could be a sign that you’ve used
the wrong verb. A better verb needs to be used instead of a verb with the
adverb modifying it. Instead of a person who “ran quickly” down the street, a
writer could say he “raced” instead. Instead of saying “Martin spoke clearly,”
I could say he “articulated.” Instead of saying the injured player “limped noticeably,”
I could say she “hobbled” or “staggered.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">Next, adverbs can strip your writing of
intensity, emotion, description, and action. Let’s say I’m writing and I
include the following line of dialogue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"> He grabbed
her arm tightly. “Come with me now,” he growled menacingly. “You won’t need a
coat where we’re going.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">That seems descriptive, but how about this instead?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">He seized Katie’s arm in his meaty hand. His
gritted teeth and his cruel, bloodshot eyes alarmed her. “Come with me…now. You
won’t need a coat where we’re going.” His threatening voice left no doubt that
she was in danger. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">Sure, the second example is wordier, but it’s
descriptive. A reader can visualize the character, the action, and the
emotional fear and intensity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , "sans serif";"><b><i><span style="color: red;">Never use an adverb to modify the verb 'said' . . . he admonished gravely. To use an adverb this way (or almost any way) is a mortal sin. The writer is now exposing himself in earnest, using a word that distracts and can interrupt the rhythm of the exchange. (Leonard Elmore) </span></i></b></span></o:p></div>
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<o:p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , "sans serif";"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></o:p></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">Also, adverbs can be an annoyance in dialogue.
Their use makes for lazy “telling” instead of “showing.” There are many levels
of problems with adverbs in dialogue tags. I’ve seen things like “he ordered
demandingly.” Well, that’s redundant. Ordered implies—maybe even <i>means</i>—something was being demanded. Just
say “he ordered” or “he demanded” or, better yet, "he said" and describe the manner in which it was said in the action.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">Another issue is that the adverb is used when it
is meaningless. It says nothing the reader doesn’t already know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">Bob slammed his fist through the drywall. “You
make me so mad!” he said angrily. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">Duh? Fist-slamming, exclamation mark, and the
word <i>mad</i> aren’t enough? Heck, I don’t
even need <i>any</i> kind of dialogue tag.
Bob’s name is in the sentence. I know who said the words, and I know he was
angry. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">That leads to my final issue with dialogue tags
using adverbs. Sometimes they literally insult our intelligence and become an
inconvenient annoyance. Let’s say you were at a play and two characters were on
the stage having a discussion. What if one said, “I need to get to the hospital”?
Then a third party walks on stage and says, “Mike is anxious right now.” Then
he exits the stage and the other character says, “I know you’re worried. How
about if I drive you there right now?” Then the third party walks onto the stage
and says, “Jenny is concerned and is trying to be compassionate.” Wouldn’t
that be horrible? I mean, Mike could be biting his nails and pacing. He might
have let out a big sigh. Jenny might have touched his arm with care and had
compassion in her eyes. In the audience, you can <i>see</i> the anxiety and concern. It’s the same way with writing. Show
with your description how Mike and Jenny are feeling. Don’t tell it by saying “he
said anxiously” or “she said compassionately.” Use your descriptive details and
actions to <i>show </i>the emotion. And if
there are only two people in the conversation, your paragraphing and characters’
names in the description will show who is speaking. Don’t annoy your readers by
telling them things that they can ascertain themselves. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">Adverbs are one of the eight parts of speech. They’re
going to be used in your writing, whether in phrases or in individual descriptive
details. But don’t overuse them. Learn how to identify them (-<i>ly </i>words in particular) and see how many
you would do better without. It’ll make your writing better, and that’s what
you want anyway, isn’t it?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-21888341380704435812017-01-26T10:12:00.000-08:002017-01-30T07:13:48.515-08:00Linking Verbs: Parts of Speech in Writing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The dictionary definition of expert is “a person
who has a comprehensive and authoritative knowledge of or skill in a particular
area.” An English teacher, as an example, should be an expert in the grammar of
the English language. He or she should know the basics thoroughly, understand
the nuances, and be able to apply his or her language knowledge in an
appreciable way. Most people would expect that from an English teacher. But
what about a writer? Shouldn’t a writer be just as adept at the language as a
teacher? After all, a writer is taking his or her creative ideas and using the
language to express them in a way that a reader is able to understand,
experience, and enjoy. However, many writers aren’t experts about the basics of
the language, so I’m writing a blog series about the parts of speech, hoping to
give some advice about better writing along the way. I believe an author should
have comprehensive and authoritative knowledge about the language. Possibly,
this blog will help.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In my first blog in this series, I wrote about
action verbs because action is the easiest thing to understand, and verbs are
possibly the most important words in a writer’s sentences. <a href="http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/2017/01/parts-of-speech-action-verbs.html">http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/2017/01/parts-of-speech-action-verbs.html</a>
Today’s blog post will be about linking verbs. Linking verbs do not show
action. They show state of being. Since all sentences have verbs, writing
experts should have a clear understanding of the verbs that don’t show action
and should be able to recognize them in sentences. Why? Because, plain and
simple, action is better. We’ll get to that later. Below is a list of the most
common non-action verbs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The “be” verbs—the topmost list of words—all have
the same meaning except for tense or whether they’re used with singular or
plural subjects. They don’t <i>do</i> a
thing. They just “be.” They are. They tell that something is. Helping verbs—generally,
the middle list—don’t stand alone. They are either used in coordination with a
linking verb or with an action verb to help it have meaning—She <i>could</i> be an angel. The car <i>might</i> run out of gas. The bottom
list could be seen ending with an –s (seem or seems) or they could change
tenses (smell or smelled). Depending how this list of words is used, they might
show action or state of being. I can <i>look</i>
out a window, or I could say the bread <i>looks</i>
moldy. I did something when I looked out the window. The bread isn’t doing anything.
It’s simply in a state of being moldy. There <i>are</i> other words that aren’t as commonly used that can show state of
being as well, but the list above is fairly comprehensive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So what’s the big deal? The issue is that a writer
attempts to capture a reader, and action does that much better than inaction.
In other words, active sentences are better than passive ones that just show a
state of being.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In the process of writing <i>Jumper</i>, my time-travel, action/adventure novel, I wrote a blog post.
<a href="http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-so-manieth-time-i-used-that-word.html">http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-so-manieth-time-i-used-that-word.html</a>
It was about repetition and mentioned the fact that I used the word <i>was</i> 974 times before revision. One out
of every 74 words was <i>was</i>. The book
was supposed to be filled with action, yet I found I had a lot of revision to
do just because of that one repetitiously-used word. I had a teen fan write me
an email recently, asking me how to avoid passive sentences. There is no easy
answer to the question, but I told her to do a word search for <i>–ing</i> words. Just type in <i>ing</i> and see what happens. If the word
has <i>was, were,</i> <i>is,</i> <i>am, </i>or<i> are</i> in front of it,
see if the two words can be changed to an action verb. <i>Maria was huddling quietly in the corner</i> can become <i>Maria quietly huddled in the corner</i>. Or <i>Julia was singing joyfully</i> can be <i>Julia sang joyfully</i>. This little test
works with <i>ed</i> words also. <i>The fort was
attacked</i> is a passive sentence, but to do a search for <i>ed </i>words could make you want to attack your computer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Here’s a shortcut method for recognizing passive
sentences. Try putting the words <i>by zombies</i>
after your verb. If the sentence makes sense, it’s passive. <i>The fort was attacked (by zombies).</i> That
makes sense; it’s a passive sentence. <i>Zombies
attacked (by zombies) the fort</i> doesn’t make sense. That sentence is active,
and low and behold, the second sentence doesn’t have a linking verb. It’s a
shortcut which doesn’t work perfectly, but it might help you identify passive
sentences. However, knowing your linking verbs would eliminate your need for zombies.
Linking verbs, if you learn to recognize them, are passive, so you can actually
revise as you’re writing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Are you ready for grammar that might hurt your
head? In my sample sentences above—the ones with the linking verbs—<i>standing</i>,
<i>singing</i>, and <i>attacked</i> are <i>not</i> verbs.
They're adjectives. They’re specific kinds of adjectives called participles,
which are verbals (verb-like words) that describe nouns. <i>Standing</i> describes Maria. <i>Singing</i>
describes Julia. <i>Attacked</i> describes
the fort. I happen to know—because I taught English for thirty years—that some
of you are thinking you were taught (taught is an adjective) that in the
sentence <i>Julia was singing joyfully </i>that
the subject is <i>Julia</i> and the verb is <i>was singing</i>. Well, you were taught
incorrectly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Let me digress for a second. If your sentence was
Maria was kind, angry, perplexed, wealthy, and sunburned, how is Maria being
described? Adjectives describe nouns, most often telling what kind of a noun.
What kind of person is Maria? She’s kind, angry, perplexed, wealthy, and
sunburned. All those words describe Maria, just like singing does. What kind of
person is she? She is a singing person. It’s describing her. What if I said
Singing Maria is adorable? Would you say <i>singing</i> is a verb? Would you say <i>adorable</i> is a verb? I wouldn’t. I’d say
they were describing Maria, telling me what kind of person she is. So if I said <i>Adorable Maria is singing</i>, there is no difference. Both words describe Maria regardless of their order. If you still
disagree, let me ask you this. Julia was singing joyfully, correct? What if I said<i> Joyfully singing, Julia inspired the audience
to cheers</i>. Would you agree that joyfully singing is an introductory phrase
describing Julia and that the action verb in the sentence is <i>inspired</i>? <i>Joyfully happy, Julia sang to her audience</i>. Would you agree that <i>happy</i> is describing Julia? <i>Huddling quietly in the corner, Maria wept
at her loss</i>. <i>Huddling</i> describes
Maria, while <i>wept</i> is the action. <i>Unmercifully attacked, the fort crumbled and
burned</i>. <i>Attacked</i> describes the
fort while <i>crumbled and burned</i> is
what the fort did. Do you know what else I did in my revised sentences? I
created good sentence variety. The subject and verb were moved from the
beginning of the sentences to the middle. Sentence variety is also part of good
writing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So those <i>ing</i> and <i>ed</i> words after a linking verb are not verbs; they’re participles—adjectives—and
they are all parts of passive sentences. Those sentences aren’t showing action.
They’re showing state of being—and honestly, the best way to understand is to
be able to identify linking verbs because those are the words that are driving
your passive sentences. Learn them and be a better writer by avoiding them the
best you can. If you write them in your rough drafts, search for them in your
editing process and revise as many sentences as you can to give them more
variety and make them active. Your writing will be better, and your readers
will notice.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">***If you are a writer, looking for an editor, please visit this link and connect with me. <a href="http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/p/the-red-pen-editor-page.html" target="_blank">http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/p/the-red-pen-editor-page.html</a></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-21917283528351428452017-01-16T08:34:00.001-08:002020-08-18T20:22:15.762-07:00Action Verbs: Parts of Speech in Writing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span face="" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">Our language is built on eight parts of speech.
Those parts are the building blocks of every sentence every writer writes. They
can be manipulated to express beautiful, romantic, inspiring, imaginative
things, and they can be manipulated to express unintelligent or uninteresting things
no one cares to read. The order of the building blocks creates variety, voice,
and meaning (among other things). They determine where punctuation is to be
placed. Knowledge of them elicits proper grammar. I taught English for thirty
years, I’ve written five novels, and I edit books as a current “career.” I
found it difficult to teach writing in the past, and I’m finding it even more
difficult in the present to content and line edit without referencing or teaching the parts of
speech. I imagine it would be no different than teaching auto
mechanics without teaching the car parts and the tools to manipulate them. This
entry is the first of a series of blogs by which I intend to help readers learn
some things about our language that will help them become better writers.
Because I’m ever-learning, maybe it’ll help me be a better writer and editor as
well. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">Teaching the parts of speech has one difficult
obstacle that I’ve never figured out how to completely overcome. It’s extremely
difficult to start with one and simply move along. They overlap. They work
together. It’s hard to talk about one without ever mentioning others. They aren’t
simply building blocks that one can build upon the other. However, experience
has taught me that the best, most logical place to begin is with verbs. If one
part of speech can be more important than another, then I vote for verbs. There
are three kinds of verbs: action, helping, and linking. Today, I’m going
to focus on action verbs. They’re easiest, and the writing tips that apply are
especially important.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">Action verbs show…well, action. Physical action is
obvious, but action verbs include mental action—action of the mind (words like
consider, wonder, believe, and hypothesize). Verbs tell what is being done.
Some action verbs are transitive, leading to something that receives the action
(Donald Trump said something stupid) and some are intransitive with nothing
receiving the action (Hillary Clinton lied again). “Something” is the direct
object of “said.” You could ask the question “Said what?” and the answer would
be “something stupid.” “Lied” doesn’t have a direct object. You could ask “Lied
what?” and there is no answer because lied is intransitive. This same thing can
apply to mental action. I considered jogging. “Considered” is a transitive
action verb with “jogging” as the direct object. I deliberated for less than
ten seconds (because I don’t jog). “Deliberated” is an intransitive verb
because there is no answer to “deliberated what?” That’s pretty much all you
need to know about action verbs, so what’s the big deal?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">The big deal is action spurs imagination. Our minds can
visualize action. It can be pleasant looking at a picture, but watching a video
is more likely to get our blood pumping. Writers need to use action verbs to
create action-packed possibilities in our readers’ minds. All writers have
heard the saying “Show; don’t tell.” Well, action verbs show. Instead of
saying, <i>“You’re brilliant,” he said
sarcastically</i>, you can say, <i>Mike
rolled his eyes. “You’re brilliant.” He shook his head as he walked away.</i>
The reader saw a scene of action and figured out that the speaker was being
sarcastic. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">How about this: <i>The tips of Mike’s fingers met above the bridge of his nose. His thumbs
hooked under his jaw, hiding his nose and mouth from my view, but I could see
his wide eyes and his knee as it bounced frantically.</i> That’s an
action-packed description of Mike: <i>met,
hooked, could see, bounced</i>. Or I could say this: <i>Mike seemed scared. He was covering his face with his hands and his
knee was bouncing uncontrollably.</i> There are no action verbs in the second
set of sentences. The verbs are <i>seemed,
was, </i>and<i> was</i>. The first set is
active while the second set is passive. Active is better. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">And some verbs are better than others. “Thought”
isn’t as specific as “planned.” “Walked”<i> </i>is
far less specific than “hobbled.” Why say “ate greedily” when you can say “devoured”?
Why say “read and remembered” when you can say “absorbed”? Something can break
or it can chip, crack, shatter, or splinter. Words have specific meanings which
paint specific pictures. (Let me interrupt and say that a thesaurus is a
wonderful thing). <o:p></o:p>What I’m obviously pointing out is that great action verbs can paint specific pictures, often saving the writer words.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">But that
leads me to mention something that is just the opposite. I’ve
noticed many knowledgeable authors comment about dialogue tags. I’m
going to throw in that many people don’t punctuate dialogue correctly (that will
mostly be dealt with in another blog), but then I’m going to mention that many
authors say the words “said” and "asked" are practically the only dialogue tags a writer needs.
No author is going to write an entire novel without using a synonym for said at
least occasionally, but what many successful authors are saying is to throw away
the thesaurus for dialogue tags. All those wonderful synonyms aren’t needed--some are actually awkward and detract from the writing. So
here is where everything I said above is thrown out the window for dialogue
tags. <i>Don’t</i> use more specific words or <i>add</i> words to <i>tell</i> how the speaker is speaking. Again, you need to show instead
of tell, especially when the telling adds –ly words (adverbs). </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><i>“Come here,”
Lexi purred seductively</i> should be more like <i>“Come here,” Lexi said. She beckoned with her finger, lust in her eyes.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><i>“Put your
hands in the air,” Duke growled menacingly</i> should be more like <i>“Put your hands in the air,” said Duke. He
glared over the shotgun, his teeth clenched in anger. </i>Fewer synonyms and
adverbs; more specific description. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">And while I’m on dialogue, a dialogue tag is used
to express words for <i>said. Smiled</i>,
for instance, is <i>not</i> a way of
speaking<i>. “You look beautiful,” he smiled</i>
isn’t punctuated correctly. The comma rule says to put a comma to set off the
dialogue tag, but “smiled” isn’t a way of speaking, so it doesn’t fit the rule.
It should be <i>“You look beautiful.” He
smiled.</i> Or, better, put “He smiled” first. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">So lesson one on the parts of speech is about action verbs. Make your writing action-packed. Use the active rather than the passive
voice. Use more specific verbs. But when it comes to dialogue, simplify your
dialogue tags and show rather than tell. </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span face="" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span face="" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">***If you are a writer, looking for an editor, please visit this link and connect with me. <a href="http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/p/the-red-pen-editor-page.html" target="_blank">http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/p/the-red-pen-editor-page.html</a></span></div>
The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-67767796368409426112016-06-12T14:14:00.001-07:002021-01-05T20:16:10.598-08:00The Days of Yesteryear for Better or Worse<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">I spent my childhood in the 60s and
70s. Obviously, life was different then. Was it better? Was it worse? Well, I’m
going to be the judge of that because I’m listing fourteen random areas of
difference and telling you if I think they were better, worse, or somewhere in
between. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>Corporal punishment was allowed in school. I got
a swat once for teasing a girl in class. The teacher who swatted me in front of
my classmates barely caused me physical pain, but it embarrassed me—and my
parents found out and punished me because, in my day, the teacher was always
right. I didn’t want another swat or home punishment, so my behavior changed. BETTER.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>We played vinyl records on record players—albums that scratched, skipped, or warped—</span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;">and taped songs off the radio with portable cassette players. I remember building a “soundproof” fort and waiting for my favorite songs on the radio, hoping to record them without interruption from noise in the house. WORSE.</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>Research was done with encyclopedias, library sourcebooks, or microfilm. Yeah, trolling the library was no fun (and in those days
we were expected to be quiet). Topics were generally chosen based on whatever
letter of the encyclopedia was available. Loading or spinning through
microfilm was far too tedious. There was no internet! WORSE.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">4.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>We had to get up to change the TV channel or to change
the antennae rotator or the volume. We only had one TV, so we also had to fight
for our shows or (horror of horrors) find something else to do. Nowadays, I’ll
scour the earth for the remote before going to the TV to change the channel or
volume. WORSE.</span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">5.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>When a thermometer broke, we rolled the liquid-metal mercury around in the palms of our hands. We didn’t die. Now they shut down entire schools. PROBABLY WORSE.</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">6.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>We didn’t wear helmets. I learned how to ride a
bike by having my dad steady it until I got it moving on my own, and then he’d let
go and I’d ride until I fell either in the grass or on the cement sidewalk. We
didn’t have in-line skates, skateboards, or many of the other cool rolling
gadgets, so bike-riding was essential. We played hockey, rode motorcycles, and rode
bikes and roller skates without helmets. I’m only partially brain-damaged.
BETTER…MAYBE.</span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><span style="font-stretch: normal;">7.</span><span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>We played Jarts. You know…those arrows of death?
Actually, we were smart enough to not get in the way of other gamers’ throws,
and we let them land without having our skulls pierced. Maybe we had more common
sense than people of today, and maybe having the government monitor our safety
for us isn’t really all that necessary. Hey, there could be Jart helmets. BETTER.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNYV3KI9J_FQfJZH-8fkhCp79tsSokNuOXUpJX2CX1bF7bev8kCiMt119YAYK5odV6ZLS8NtsRPBCsVTMwos8JhGq3JvF3FKw2vjKug-aOLbkw6vNNa_wuYzHAExMQgQX53ZFpGI-T7wmz/s1600/a+blog+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNYV3KI9J_FQfJZH-8fkhCp79tsSokNuOXUpJX2CX1bF7bev8kCiMt119YAYK5odV6ZLS8NtsRPBCsVTMwos8JhGq3JvF3FKw2vjKug-aOLbkw6vNNa_wuYzHAExMQgQX53ZFpGI-T7wmz/s200/a+blog+2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><span style="font-stretch: normal;">8.</span><span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>We rode in the back of pickup trucks or on the top of the backseat in a convertible. Does anyone remember sitting in the backseat of a station wagon, looking out the back window at the other drivers? Do you remember having to sit on the hump because almost all cars had rear-wheel drive (which was great for doing donuts in parking lots in the winter)? There were no car seats, only occasional seat belt usage, and sooner or later, we all “drove” the car while sitting on our dad’s lap. I survived, believe it or not. BETTER…AND WORSE.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">9.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>We built our own forts and treehouses. There was
a lot of pride in the achievement, and though they were horribly built, they
were <i>ours. </i>We made the plans, chose
and hauled the lumber scraps or branches, brought the tools, and made something
we were proud of. BETTER.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWWEArqtgq5KC7-8QxAufeoIb7X9vSIQzica2XqgUZdmzgGcpm78wOmHPfGEuGT6E36jOtpN5bN8MZ226ndwewQtNLbinJ1pTbUDRCVn9Hl2V_-md3kBhOEsSx-w7QX6bNIHyywhkDPSDM/s1600/a+blog+5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWWEArqtgq5KC7-8QxAufeoIb7X9vSIQzica2XqgUZdmzgGcpm78wOmHPfGEuGT6E36jOtpN5bN8MZ226ndwewQtNLbinJ1pTbUDRCVn9Hl2V_-md3kBhOEsSx-w7QX6bNIHyywhkDPSDM/s200/a+blog+5.jpg" width="198" /></a></div>
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<span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif" style="text-indent: -0.25in;">10. </span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif" style="text-indent: -0.25in;">We climbed to the tops of trees, jumped fences, swung
on swing sets with legs coming out of the ground, trespassed in the woods,
designed our own bike jumps, umpired and refereed our own neighborhood ball
games, got in fights and solved our own problems, and left the house in the
morning only to come home when our parents called for us from the front door
for dinner (which we ate as a family). We did all of those things without a
cell-phone or a microwave. BETTER.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">11. Visits to church, hospitals, relatives’ homes,
stores for shopping, etc. were made without smartphones and tablets. We were
bored…or we creatively found something to do. Maybe we took a book to read.
Maybe we interacted with people. We probably learned proper etiquette and
people skills. BETTER.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">12. We attended drive-in movies. People hid in the
trunk so they wouldn’t have to pay. With our parents, we came in pajamas with
pillows and blankets, and we brought our own refreshments and strained to see
the screen in the fading daylight. As teenagers, we strolled around the “theater”
or sat in open hatchbacks with our friends. BETTER…OR NOT. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTUz0RWkUn4P4rXq9oPZiQ_IJeNZ5XcEljch8ef0GjFYzWKhq89gAgIECBQ1TWBVSXFnT-l1R7eVlYTEBc0LuS9eUd1ffHsAy-pAYkIkj1plogD4lLpDpRkF_dbFv-WKlyIIu52heoSOS/s1600/a+blog+6.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTUz0RWkUn4P4rXq9oPZiQ_IJeNZ5XcEljch8ef0GjFYzWKhq89gAgIECBQ1TWBVSXFnT-l1R7eVlYTEBc0LuS9eUd1ffHsAy-pAYkIkj1plogD4lLpDpRkF_dbFv-WKlyIIu52heoSOS/s200/a+blog+6.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">13.<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span>When we needed someone to hang out with, we went to their houses, knocked on their doors, and asked if they could come out and play. Most of my school friends in my day lived within six miles of my house, yet their phones were long-distance to call, and my parents wouldn’t let me call them, so I had to ride my bike to their houses. WORSE.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">14.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>We were grounded differently. I was grounded to
my house or my room. Or sometimes I was grounded to my yard. I was never
grounded from my cell-phone, computer, video games, or iPod (or whatever music
source). When I couldn’t leave to play with my friends or have friends over, I
was miserable. These days, parents can’t get kids to <i>leave </i>the house. I DON’T KNOW IF THIS IS BETTER OR WORSE—JUST DIFFERENT.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">And that’s the whole point. Things
were different. Times evolve, rules of society change, culture differs, and standards
of safety adjust. Things are different now, for better or worse, but for some
of you, I’ve stirred your memories of “the good old days.” Do you think they
were better or worse?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-80495453786913721742015-10-20T08:21:00.000-07:002015-10-20T08:44:22.980-07:00Death Threats Against University of Michigan Punter<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I read recently about the demise of Twitter. The main idea
of the article was that Twitter has become a haven of hate. Attacks are made on
people simply because they don’t share the same opinion or because the attacker
is simply an indecent human being. This past Saturday afternoon, I witnessed
one of the best football games I’ve ever watched. My favorite team (the
University of Michigan) looked to have a victory sewn up against our cross-town
rival (Michigan State University) when a miracle occurred in the last ten
seconds, handing U of M a heartbreaking defeat. Michigan’s punter dropped the
snap, and in a panic to attempt to get a kick off, deposited the ball into the
hands of an MSU player, who ran it in for a touchdown as the clock expired.
Since then, the Twitter idiots and commenters on other forums have gone so far
as to wish death upon the punter. What has our world come to?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7q3v7ySsJmXZEkGZ4zF-K6_PU6_ewq3jPnEoMaASgCocokm1PH_6zauvjAbN0XpjbdGGovmoR32rdAHnrhaPGP8uHP4Z_TNobBrbuGb9OQuGGD-2DKTkNKKgieEGByC6zBWv5wpN-xsxe/s1600/a+blog+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7q3v7ySsJmXZEkGZ4zF-K6_PU6_ewq3jPnEoMaASgCocokm1PH_6zauvjAbN0XpjbdGGovmoR32rdAHnrhaPGP8uHP4Z_TNobBrbuGb9OQuGGD-2DKTkNKKgieEGByC6zBWv5wpN-xsxe/s200/a+blog+2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I used to coach basketball, and one of the most important
things I taught my players—preaching the concept to the extreme—was that we don’t
make excuses. Over the years of coaching well over 500 games, there have been
many times that the timekeeper or referee made an error at the end of the game.
There were other times that one of my players made an error that “cost us the
game.” I don’t deny the anger…the frustration…the desire to blame. But blaming
the result of a game on one play or one call or one mistake is just plain
stupid. Let me explain by giving one example from my coaching history.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I was coaching a team that was winless the year before. It
was the first game of the year, and it was against one of the best teams in the
conference. At the end of the game, with just two seconds remaining, we had a
one-point lead and one of my players was fouled and was to shoot two free
throws. I called a time out, and I told the four non-shooting players to stand
at half court, so there was no way they could foul. I told my shooter (Al) that
once he made the free throws (positive thinking), to back off. They’d have to
make a miracle shot just to tie. But I also reminded him that if he happened to
miss, they’d have to throw in a full-court shot to win it. The worst thing he
could do would be to foul and give them free throws. So what did he do? He
missed both free throws, and after the second miss, he fouled the other team’s
best player, who made both of his free throws. We lost the game. It was Al’s
fault, right? He missed shots that could have sealed the victory. He made a
dumb foul. I should blame Al, right? Wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Let me say first of all that we lost by just one point. We
did not shoot 100% that game. We didn’t get every rebound. We committed fouls
to put our opponents into the bonus before that fateful final foul. We blew
defensive assignments during the game. We made turnovers. We missed free
throws. At one point, we had a lead larger than one. If we had played better,
made more shots, made less mistakes, had given up fewer points, Al’s free
throws and foul wouldn’t have mattered. And while I’m mentioning Al, he had a
really good game that day. He scored an unexpected nine points and had several
steals and forced several other turnovers. We wouldn’t have been in a position
to win without him. It wasn’t his fault we lost. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaNKGO2dCsJziioke5I8EEsPEjKzQrhMBjeYIeb9Lo8erTXo0wTpXLAekmUof6iJ5kYxRMWTQuNAAIuyZ9_uCuEJPnrydNDFv7O61lVhQok5-916EkKoQeCiIEb89ph5iSj17DeND9dYpH/s1600/a+blog+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaNKGO2dCsJziioke5I8EEsPEjKzQrhMBjeYIeb9Lo8erTXo0wTpXLAekmUof6iJ5kYxRMWTQuNAAIuyZ9_uCuEJPnrydNDFv7O61lVhQok5-916EkKoQeCiIEb89ph5iSj17DeND9dYpH/s320/a+blog+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And it wasn’t Blake O’Neill’s fault Michigan lost. MSU had
more total yards by a lot. They had a greater time of possession, had more
first downs, got called for less penalties, made no turnovers, had a one-play
75-yard score on the play after it seemed Michigan put the game out of reach.
Michigan’s running game was stopped. Who blew the defensive assignment on the
75-yard pass? Why did MSU’s quarterback pass for over 300 yards? Why was
Michigan’s special teams unit preparing to tackle the punt returner when no
returner was back? Why wasn’t the whole team defending MSU’s attempt to block
the punt? Wasn’t the snap low? And by the way, wasn’t it Blake O’Neill who had
an 80-yard punt? Wasn’t it O’Neill whose punts pinned the Spartans inside the
10-yard line three or four different times during the game? Isn’t O’Neill one
of the best punters in the country? Blaming him and threatening him is as
absurd as accepting that those giving out threats could actually play better than
O’Neill themselves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Several years ago, a Cubs fan by the name of Steve Bartman
did what about 98% of all fans at a baseball game would do. He reached to catch
a foul ball (out of the field of play). Video replays even show other fans
attempting to do the same thing because, well, that’s what fans do at baseball
games. I sure do, and I even caught one once. It made my day. Yet, other Cubs
fans seem intent to blame him for the Cubs not winning the World Series.
Really? Was that the only play of the game? (If caught, it would have actually
only been the second out of the 8<sup>th</sup> inning). Didn’t the pitcher
still have another opportunity to get the batter out who hit the foul ball? (He
walked him). How did the other team score eight runs in the inning without
other runners? (Shortstop Alex Gonzalez made an error on a sure inning-ending
double-play ground ball before other hits and walks began to pile up). Didn’t
the Cubs make 27 outs that game? Didn’t they have a chance to win game seven
the next day? Are Cubs fans entitled to determine that the Cubs would have won
the World Series had Steve Bartman not “interfered” with one batted ball in a playoff
game prior to the World Series? Yet Bartman had death threats. One moment in
time when he did what anyone would do ruined his life because of idiot “fans.”
And by the way “fans,” isn’t it a game? I realize fan is short for fanatic,
but seriously, did Steve Bartman’s instinctive action matter so much that he
should fear for his life? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7flLc64_gCWBEvj9_JwhA7XMelxjKKZRRpi76_qyZyQQwJLCWdOB41zzyAknvsFs029xLIZUu7hWLYF675qEIzpKOhmgLBo1T1YI9001za-9MbsIchF5OKdfgx21ao6_0OL9JScAUyNS2/s1600/a+blog+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7flLc64_gCWBEvj9_JwhA7XMelxjKKZRRpi76_qyZyQQwJLCWdOB41zzyAknvsFs029xLIZUu7hWLYF675qEIzpKOhmgLBo1T1YI9001za-9MbsIchF5OKdfgx21ao6_0OL9JScAUyNS2/s320/a+blog+3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It’s a game, people. We watch the game for entertainment…diversion…a
reason to get together with friends. Yes, we take pride in our teams. Yes, we
get emotional, leading to anger and disappointment, at times. But in the course
of a game, we also feel joy. We literally get nervous. We laugh and celebrate
with our friends. We might even yell or throw things. But it’s a game. It’s a
game in which Michigan fans felt hope and excitement. We celebrated Blake O’Neill’s prior punts. We got angry at instant replay calls that somehow were still
inaccurately called, one of which was for a touchdown our team should have
never been awarded. We’ve been watching our team play better this year than we
expected, and we’re happy for it. But to go on Twitter and wish the death of a
kid who dropped a snap is way overboard. To threaten his life should be
punishable by law, and the idiots who could never do what Blake O’Neill is
capable of doing should be fined or thrown in jail. He’s a kid playing a sport
for our entertainment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And by the way, you parents out there who berate your own
children for not playing up to your absurd expectations…you need to back off.
Your view of your own past athletic prowess is probably skewed, and your desire
to live vicariously through your child’s feats should probably take a backseat
to your love and devotion for your son or daughter. It’s a sport—a recreation.
It’s a way for your son and daughter to make good friends, have good
experiences, learn how to work hard, learn how to work together, learn how to
deal with successes and failures, and learn who they are and what they’re made
of. Sports and competition mirror real life in many ways, but one way they don’t
mirror life is that they aren’t life and death. The idiots who want Blake O’Neill
or Steve Bartman to suffer for their miniscule part in the loss of one game in
one season need to back off and put their own life in the proper perspective.
And lawmakers ought to be figuring out a way to punish people who threaten the
lives of others in a public forum. Maybe that would stop idiots from hurting
innocent people. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-5928748846310134762015-08-19T06:29:00.000-07:002018-12-19T18:15:58.194-08:00Ohio and West Virginia Roads Are Miserable<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I’m
from Michigan, and over a recent five day period—because of a trip to Florida
and back (via North Carolina)—my wife and I drove through Ohio and West
Virginia twice. This trip was on the heels of a trip just two weeks earlier
when we helped my daughter move into an apartment in North Carolina to begin an
internship at UNC (yes, the sky is Tar Heel blue)—so <i>four </i>times we were on those states’ wretched roads in about sixteen
days.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Admittedly,
I’m a University of Michigan graduate and fan, so my dislike of Ohio comes
naturally, but I’m mature enough to admit that not all of Ohio and not all Ohioans
are bad. Cedar Point is an amazing amusement park, and I’ve been to Kings
Island as well. I’ve watched baseball games in Riverfront Stadium, Great
America Ball Park, and Progressive Field. I attended college in Ohio for a year
and a half. I’ve been to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, the Cincinnati Zoo,
and the Pro Football Hall of Fame. I have friends who live in the state. It’s
not <i>all</i> bad. But as a traveler, this
I know: the <i>entire</i> state is under
road construction. I mean the <i>whole </i>thing.
Not only are the speed limits on the roads typically lower in Ohio and the police
force seemingly more determined to give out speeding tickets than any state
in the union, but Ohio has a massive toll road and 700 million miles of road
construction. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Ohio
has only two seasons—winter and road construction. That wasn’t a joke. I was
stating a fact plainly named on the internet. Cleveland-based Plastic Safety
Systems Inc. is one of the country's largest makers of orange construction
barrels (I looked it up on Google), literally putting millions of dollars
yearly into Ohio’s economy, while managing to keep their manufactured product
almost exclusively on their home soil. Industrywide
(not just in Ohio), as many as 750,000 orange barrels are produced annually
(another Google “fact”). Now, I’m certain that I-75 near Cincinnati, for
instance, has been undergoing road construction non-stop (except in the winter
“season”) for at least 30 years. Over 22 billion orange barrels have been
produced in that period of time, and I’m convinced half of them can be found in
Ohio since the entire state is currently under road construction. And by the
way, can anyone tell me when I-75 at Cincinnati will be fixed? It seems
inconceivable that there are construction workers who started working road crew
as young adults who have retired, never having seen the section of road heading
to that terrifying bridge over the Ohio River ever completed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjH0-t8Jp9bxkOQ5eYQ_A4QNkNEFI7IV2lYA1U4sNpsaurJQsh4WKSITHud3ceQuutFIGlMjHN0iSI5vxVioaWfsT2LFTFBnpo_qh8RrKgwomUi5gepo0IhUEXq4TuBpWaFZuZJ95XmZbk/s1600/a+blog+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjH0-t8Jp9bxkOQ5eYQ_A4QNkNEFI7IV2lYA1U4sNpsaurJQsh4WKSITHud3ceQuutFIGlMjHN0iSI5vxVioaWfsT2LFTFBnpo_qh8RrKgwomUi5gepo0IhUEXq4TuBpWaFZuZJ95XmZbk/s200/a+blog+1.jpg" width="149" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">That
brings me to concrete highway median barriers. More Google research says they
are twenty feet long, two feet wide, and two feet eight inches tall—and they weigh
approximately 8000 pounds each. Since I’m guessing there are a billion of them
in Ohio (264 make up a single mile), that means there are eight thousand
billion pounds of cement barricading every driving route in the state. Orange
barrels are one thing—they’re designed to <i>not
</i>wreck a car that happens to hit them, but an 8000 pound weight doesn’t tip
over and fall away when a car hits it, so drivers white-knuckle their way
through the entire geography of Ohio in hopes of survival—unless, of course,
they are safely and securely stuck in one of a myriad of Ohio traffic jams the
road construction causes throughout the state. Yeah, the only thing good about
the roads in Ohio is that when driving north or south on I-77, they’re better than the
roads of West Virginia.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkXDrpUy74NgdTFHnidMyu4sxYb65bvPCINPOFaBXb4q3RMnMqM2oezdBsZnkc-86g6glyEuB2QvRoaySJfGLlt__qAoYLMeOJ7sJ3E0IWw8xW7A6bzIPtQdLwjiJcSFt_BtYaXxN7pU7H/s1600/a+blog+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkXDrpUy74NgdTFHnidMyu4sxYb65bvPCINPOFaBXb4q3RMnMqM2oezdBsZnkc-86g6glyEuB2QvRoaySJfGLlt__qAoYLMeOJ7sJ3E0IWw8xW7A6bzIPtQdLwjiJcSFt_BtYaXxN7pU7H/s320/a+blog+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This
isn’t scientific, but I-77 runs through the entire state of West Virginia, so I
took out a ruler, measured the legend on my atlas, and followed the route the
expressway takes. The road should be less than 120 miles long. It’s 187. Yes,
it’s more than 50% longer than the map says it is because it winds through the
mountains at angles and grades that no one in their right mind would navigate
unless they were determined to leave the road construction in Ohio behind and
enter back into human civilization in Virginia (via an interesting tunnel
through a mountain). No one would do that drive in the winter would they? There
must be thousands of abandoned, destroyed vehicles at the bottom of mountain
overlooks in West Virginia if people really do drive that route in the ice and
snow. Seriously, I found an overhead, satellite view of the West Virginia Turnpike.
It looks like this:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB1jhdPn3LtOG9aSpy3t3b6RGGSy8h83dCQMvA2CgPVXM3w3JeryGYXfM37PPKqd5_5XIxnhlMnmruGz9aaKX3cxtEXKymAZAPQ-chIV1-O-rwQyb8bkNBe6Q3wW1OOX0ybvvX27kXl50b/s1600/a+blog+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB1jhdPn3LtOG9aSpy3t3b6RGGSy8h83dCQMvA2CgPVXM3w3JeryGYXfM37PPKqd5_5XIxnhlMnmruGz9aaKX3cxtEXKymAZAPQ-chIV1-O-rwQyb8bkNBe6Q3wW1OOX0ybvvX27kXl50b/s200/a+blog+4.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The
<i>Saturday Evening Post</i> referred to
that 88-mile section of road as "the Turnpike that goes to nowhere." Due
to the difficulty and lives lost in its construction, it has also been called
"88 miles of miracle.” It includes Charleston, which besides its
golden-domed capitol building, doesn’t have much to look at—unless you discover
the houses hidden in the mountainsides. Other than that, there seems to be no
cities, no exits, and no signs of humanity along the turnpike except for in two
places. Number one is the “service plazas” which are basically rest stops but
are really refuges for the anxiety-riddled people who have braved the worst
travel route in the United States. People exit their vehicles, kiss the
pavement, throw-up in the rest rooms, eat long meals, and then take a Prozac
before buckling up for the next section of road maze. Every bridge is called a
“memorial” bridge named after a person I’ve never heard of, but most likely, he
or she flew off a cliff in a Prozac-induced sleep. There are signs everywhere
that say “Falling Rocks.” That –ing word is in the present perfect progressive
tense, describing an action that began in the past, continues in the present,
and may continue into the future. In other words, while drivers are grasping
the steering wheel in a death grip, maneuvering through roads that go every
direction except flat and straight, they are to look to the mountain walls out
of their peripheral vision for rocks hurtling through the air in hopes of
avoiding the pulverization of their vehicles.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdXhUr0IsePZd8pynkFy1PtP_xpkIfCpslbnNbcYr3EWnf9DOY4WPRm4woq19LDcWxt1jub3llCBgNat19ZZbi_Nlpv_rZ_wXe5v0rr2hW7E5mYaahzOIzj_fwiVScHXBsBG0BH2v1zAoJ/s1600/a+blog+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdXhUr0IsePZd8pynkFy1PtP_xpkIfCpslbnNbcYr3EWnf9DOY4WPRm4woq19LDcWxt1jub3llCBgNat19ZZbi_Nlpv_rZ_wXe5v0rr2hW7E5mYaahzOIzj_fwiVScHXBsBG0BH2v1zAoJ/s320/a+blog+6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The
only other place for humanity is at the toll booths. Now, I’m sorry, but
there’s no way I believe there are sane people who drive to and from home to
set up shop in those toll booths on a daily basis. Either they’re insane or
they are violent criminals on work release who inevitably will crash to their
deaths before their prison terms expire. The only other option is that they
rock climb to work to begin their shifts and rappel home when they’re finished.
The way the roads wind, I think all three toll stops are actually within a “falling
rock” from each other and the whole turnpike is simply a legislative joke to
raise money and convince non-West Virginian natives to never consider living in
the state. The toll booth workers rappel home to their houses built into clefts
in the wall or to spelunker into caves below the surface of the planet. In the
meantime, white-knuckled drivers are motoring in weaving, winding circles for
88 miles only to come out five miles ahead of where they started. They could
have hiked it faster and more safely.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvXW-Bjf-39ehfHIC58ADxZM9kNPOlqBPpcnv7nOOKvJ5L9-CaBoa6oc_JkSgWN2dvoWCPM6RsIKP1ceR6Y38yVZ0qE_IldwZP63sS8pDDg3hb9XiDxaeVT1gaU42FI1uzwHSjVyv5tP1/s1600/a+blog+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvXW-Bjf-39ehfHIC58ADxZM9kNPOlqBPpcnv7nOOKvJ5L9-CaBoa6oc_JkSgWN2dvoWCPM6RsIKP1ceR6Y38yVZ0qE_IldwZP63sS8pDDg3hb9XiDxaeVT1gaU42FI1uzwHSjVyv5tP1/s320/a+blog+5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">On
our last trip through on Monday, my brakes were grinding and my air conditioner
stopped working. I had to turn the radio off because the only sound I could
pick up was static. I had to turn my phone to airplane mode because the battery
was draining while roaming for a signal that most assuredly didn’t exist. I’m
certain no phone company is willing to risk employees’ lives to install cell
phone towers in the middle of virgin earth, so the only thing we could do while
driving through the state was sweat and pray. Well, we made it through four
times in sixteen days, and for the time being, I love the state of Michigan to
degrees I’d never experienced in the past. Maybe the next time we go to
Florida, we’ll fly. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">If you happen to be interested in my novels, click on the links at the top of the page and to the right or visit Amazon: </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Jeff+LaFerney">http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Jeff+LaFerney</a> or Barnes & Noble: </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/Jeff%20LaFerney/_/N-8q8">http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/Jeff%20LaFerney/_/N-8q8</a></span></div>
The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-76297213673274883352015-07-14T07:19:00.001-07:002022-02-12T09:47:11.896-08:00Top Ten Things Everyone Can Do--Except Me<div class="MsoNormal">
<span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Everywhere we look, there are “Top 10” lists, so I figured
I’d jump on the bandwagon yet try to come up with something that’s unique. So,
while I often make lists on my blog, I’ve yet to have a scientifically provable
“Top 10.” Here’s my first effort—the top 10 things that apparently are easy for
everyone but me (told you it was scientific).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>North, south, east, west directions. I’m in a
building and someone says that the help desk is in the southwest corner or a
car in the east parking lot has its lights on. Uh, I’m inside. I can’t see the
sun. I don’t have a magnetized needle or moss on a tree to help me. How am I
supposed to know where the northeast exit is? Yet, you could blindfold my wife,
lead her inside a building, spin her around until she’s dizzy, and ask which
way’s north, and she’d know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>Touch my toes with my legs straight. My son once
took the Presidential Fitness Test. I don’t know…it seemed like there were
about a hundred things to do, all of which he exceeded easily. But he had to
stretch beyond his toes, and he couldn’t, so that disqualified him from the
award (because stretching like a gymnast is the end-all to physical fitness).
Well, he comes across it honestly. His dad can barely stretch beyond his knees.
And apparently, a person’s tight hamstrings are responsible for every back,
knee, groin, and foot pain, so because I can’t reach my ankles, I’m destined to
inhale ibuprofen like they’re M & M’s . <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig4tCD8tqhM0NCX0h-sJYMrT9ODLllpu06eQ5ydz_TQASa_kt60h6hfCFUXFdP6m1PInXj92qwysmbReSYmBSlHu83JQp5iDAfFDjmHMOPpohFNYNw7lo-vwEz6Yadh8d1k01fWhPT1D7b/s1600/a+blog+5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig4tCD8tqhM0NCX0h-sJYMrT9ODLllpu06eQ5ydz_TQASa_kt60h6hfCFUXFdP6m1PInXj92qwysmbReSYmBSlHu83JQp5iDAfFDjmHMOPpohFNYNw7lo-vwEz6Yadh8d1k01fWhPT1D7b/s320/a+blog+5.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>Change a door knob. Don’t you dare laugh. This
is what happens to me. First, I can’t remove the old one without a hacksaw. Second,
the first time through takes twenty minutes to line up the holes, hold the
pieces without spinning or falling, lose a screw or two, dent or scratch
something, and re-adjust everything. Third, the latch is always going to be in
the wrong direction when I finish, so I have to start over. There are two
indisputable truths to my home fix-ups. One, I will never ever get it right the
first time, or two, I will break whatever I’m “fixing”—door knobs included.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">4.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>Cook chicken so it’s not too dry to swallow.
Colonel Sanders can hire anyone in the universe to make his chicken juicy and
edible. Ya Ya’s, Chick-fil-A, Church’s, Popeye’s, and every sit-down restaurant
in the world can make moist chicken. Every grandmother in the history of
mankind can do it. Heck, Medieval wanderers always have juice running down
their chins as they eat their poultry, cooked over an open fire while skewered
on a stick, but I could boil my chicken in broth, and when I eat it, it’s dry
as sawdust.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBQQxxBh5TLTikKKflJ2WCzjTdJ-_wDZBLg37BnXuVoi3S2SuXaSD9z3g-hpW-GJlpmDjy4avPruuQ021GbHyRme9FhU-DUJ35lzU8JCgfchaVbKlglbwOk17-1ez9ALpVF0BWNx3LeE84/s1600/a+blog+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBQQxxBh5TLTikKKflJ2WCzjTdJ-_wDZBLg37BnXuVoi3S2SuXaSD9z3g-hpW-GJlpmDjy4avPruuQ021GbHyRme9FhU-DUJ35lzU8JCgfchaVbKlglbwOk17-1ez9ALpVF0BWNx3LeE84/s200/a+blog+2.jpg" width="170" /></span></a></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">5.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>Remember jokes. I can remember details from
games I played in from junior high. I can remember baseball statistics, names,
and records over a century old. But if you tell me a joke, it flies out of my
head forever. I can’t seem to quote a single funny joke or tell it right if I
try. That part of my head that seems to get speared by a nail every time I
venture into my garage attic must be the part that remembers jokes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">6.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>Wind a rope or hose or Christmas lights. First
of all, I’m nearly phobic of all string-like objects because experience has
told me that they’re unquestionably alive. No matter if I manage to wind them
perfectly, they’ll be in knot that only Maniac McGee could untie when I go to
use it again. So I’m just as sure that those objects fight me when I try to
wind them carefully. Right…simply wrap it around my thumb and elbow…turning the
object into a twisted pile of unrecognizable crap that’ll be impossible to
untangle when it wiggles into a permanent mega-knot while in its safe storage place.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi79N1wse4-QL0KealLBsl07KSr1WWVhvE75GtL3_88U-ptkfifTnV6SPsuxqjJ6o6ChV0KY6H4L2kUHOH7qNDqrPJu_TPdCExV4Q-vWC2vjZrptl8BKU_CzaS7FGn2GXEE8R2elkEXdsIU/s1600/a+blog+1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi79N1wse4-QL0KealLBsl07KSr1WWVhvE75GtL3_88U-ptkfifTnV6SPsuxqjJ6o6ChV0KY6H4L2kUHOH7qNDqrPJu_TPdCExV4Q-vWC2vjZrptl8BKU_CzaS7FGn2GXEE8R2elkEXdsIU/s320/a+blog+1.png" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"> It would "imply" that strings are alive, which they clearly are.</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">7.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>Use a pipe wrench. My father-in-law blessed me
with pipe wrenches for a Christmas present early in my marriage. I can say without
hesitation that not one time I’ve attempted to use them have they worked. Well,
they’ve scratched up and scarred everything I’ve tried to tighten or loosen,
but they’ve never tightened or loosened one single thing. The guy who invented
them couldn’t have been thinking correctly when he made those sharp teeth that
sit at an angle instead of being flat to fit all the bolts and pipes that
they’re meant to turn. And that little knob to tighten the wrench—with my
fingers—has yet to tighten it beyond the point of slipping off and scratching
anything it touches.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">8.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>Tread water. Right, I’ll just lean back and
lightly wave my arms and lightly kick my feet and I’ll float the day away. For
me, it’s more like flailing my arms like I’m trying to fly instead of float and
kicking my feet like I’m trying to rid them of spider webs by the force of my
panicked motion. What I’m much better at is sinking and drowning than I am at
floating. I can tread water for exactly fourteen point three seconds before I’m
so tired I start fearing for my life. I couldn’t tread water in the Dead Sea…with
an inflatable tube around my stomach. I’m of the opinion if I was supposed to
float at the top of the water, my body should be duck-shaped and my arms and
feet should be propellers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUjS8I_BhmssZFgmbX0nt3ArM45ehQ4b7Vu46NUvFhBnoUfBOpAziTeATU9HmEmFdwKNta1rmp9tDpsZ_BqAgQ0TSqVlLsfznt-DCKugNl5TJqs-be8vFRPEG2M4qI4Itlg9TxJyVAb7dp/s1600/a+blog+4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUjS8I_BhmssZFgmbX0nt3ArM45ehQ4b7Vu46NUvFhBnoUfBOpAziTeATU9HmEmFdwKNta1rmp9tDpsZ_BqAgQ0TSqVlLsfznt-DCKugNl5TJqs-be8vFRPEG2M4qI4Itlg9TxJyVAb7dp/s320/a+blog+4.jpg" width="225" /></span></a></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">9.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>Spell rendezvous…or lingerie, hors d'oeuvres, khakis,
diarrhea, fuchsia, hemorrhage, lieutenant, or zucchini. Okay, hardly anyone can
spell them, but it bugs me that I can’t either, and my spell checker doesn’t
even know what I wrote. You know those times when it gives you a different word
choice not even in the same ballpark, or it says “no suggestions”? I’m an
English major, for crying out loud. I ought to be close enough to get a
suggestion. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">10.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>Understand the guy (or gal) who talks at the end
of every radio advertisement. Oh, you know what I’m talking about. The guy who
talks so fast that in ten seconds he says more than the rest of the commercial
said in fifty. The guy who doesn’t ever breathe and says words at such an
alarming rate I vow to never purchase anything from the company for fear
the fine print he’s spewing at the speed of neurons might rob me of my entire
net worth. I feel stupid I can’t hear fast enough to keep up with what he’s
saying, and I’ll never purchase anything with fine print so fast it breaks the
sound barrier. You can understand him though, right?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"> As I wrote this, I came to realize I’m pretty pathetic. The
list could have gone well beyond ten. What are things you can’t do that
seemingly are easy for everyone else</span>?<o:p></o:p></div>
The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-91799699580332083952015-05-20T11:11:00.001-07:002022-04-02T09:12:53.622-07:00Should Indie Authors Give Their e-Books Away?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Jeff+LaFerney" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Warning: Beware of subliminal messaging</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I
admit to coming into this blog with my mind made up, but to be fair, I did some
research and read some articles. There are people who believe that giving
e-books away is a good thing and some who don’t, so I’m going to present both
arguments in brief form.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There
are some good reasons to have free e-book giveaways. First, in theory, it’s a way
to get more reviews. When people read the freebie, some will review it. Second,
it’s a way to develop deeper customer relationships by directing readers to
newsletters, webpages, or author pages for interaction. Third, it could
motivate the e-book reader to actually purchase a printed version if they
genuinely enjoyed the e-book. Fourth, in theory, it could motivate readers to
purchase additional books by the same author, especially if the free book is
part of a series. Fifth, of all the gazillion titles available on Amazon, the
vast majority aren’t free, so free books could possibly zoom up the charts and
get the exposure that an author could never get for purchased books. After the free
days, and the book is re-priced for purchase, sometimes there are residual
sales, so that is when royalties would be made. And sixth, it gives unknown
authors an opportunity to get their books into the hands of people who
otherwise have never heard of them and wouldn’t be willing to risk money to
give the author a chance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So
what are the reasons given to <i>not</i> have free e-books giveaways? The first reason is that
the marketplace has become oversaturated with daily free e-books. Books are no
longer zooming up lists and having the residual effects that they once were
having. Secondly, because consumers are seeing so many free titles available,
over time, they are beginning to devalue the worth of books. Free books are so
abundant, that readers are less and less willing to spend money. Thirdly, the
free book giveaways, especially in the flooded market, are not doing what they
are supposed to do—get reviews, develop customer relations, and generate sales
on printed versions or other works by the author. Fourthly, no other
professionals in the book business are expected to work for nothing. Editors,
designers, promoters, publishers, bloggers, and advertisers are all making
money on an indie author’s books. If the author hadn’t created the book, there
would be no need for anyone else, so why is the author the only one who isn’t
expected to make money? Fifthly, what other profession do we ask the
proprietors to give their work away for free? An author puts in time,
sacrifice, worry, and discipline. An author develops and perfects and practices
his or her skills and craft. What an author does is worthy of compensation. Finally,
people are accumulating so many free books that there is almost no chance that
they’re reading them, but even if they do, and they like a specific author’s
book, there are so many other free books available, that they’ll wait around for
the author’s next giveaway, rather than purchasing the books.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmA9AEDDEVcJzet6anRlhV1CpLT5Cp98A0ogSLu-A-sdtn-raLr4IaNlDQw9OYnoEuqOw0VgG4Hh1VItJybJPMGkSh9qu_HBFFExseyR7DQZ2hQkdbKiavOI7ez-OZe9n8kp47vUnW8ROe2Xzs6BsU3XuKtuG1MjYePLvvP4aDFSfqkbdkX1y5To16xw/s463/author%202.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="463" data-original-width="400" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmA9AEDDEVcJzet6anRlhV1CpLT5Cp98A0ogSLu-A-sdtn-raLr4IaNlDQw9OYnoEuqOw0VgG4Hh1VItJybJPMGkSh9qu_HBFFExseyR7DQZ2hQkdbKiavOI7ez-OZe9n8kp47vUnW8ROe2Xzs6BsU3XuKtuG1MjYePLvvP4aDFSfqkbdkX1y5To16xw/w173-h200/author%202.png" width="173" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Jumper-Time-Travelers-Jeff-LaFerney/dp/0615809138/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=Jeff+LaFerney&qid=1648915759&s=books&sr=1-2"><span style="font-size: large;">More shameless self-promotion</span></a><br /></div><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I
have to say, as I researched and wrote the pros and cons, my opinion didn’t
change. I don’t think authors should do free book giveaways. I’ve
given two books away—my first two of five that I’ve published. I gave the
second one away first, and it worked—about four full years ago (over ten years ago now). A couple
thousand people downloaded it. Afterward, in the next few months, my sales
improved dramatically. I made some money. I didn’t see an increase in the sale
of my first book, however, and though I kept waiting for reviews, there were
only a couple that may have been from the free downloads. About six months
later I tried my first book. The number of downloads was embarrassingly low
compared to <i>Skeleton Key</i>. I saw no
sales jump in either of my books, and I didn’t get a single review that I felt
might have come from the giveaway. It didn’t work at all. So I’ve had both
experiences. But I was a newbie. I wanted to get my book in people’s hands, and
I had more than one book, so I thought giving one away would help sell the
other also. Times have changed in the last four years (ten-plus years), however, and now I don’t
like the idea at all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Here
are <i>my</i> reasons. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">First
of all, though I’m sure there are many exceptions and many people will disagree,
what I’ve been reading and hearing is that most authors are seeing no significant
evidence that giving away their books is getting them additional reviews and the
expected increase in sales once the book is no longer free. For other books the
author has written, there is little to no increase in the number of sales
either. It used to work better, so why are the numbers low now? I think it’s
because the market has been bombarded with free books. People download gobs of them
and never read them. Do you know what books they read first? Books they pay
for. Those are the ones they’ve invested in. I’ve downloaded a ton of free
books. I don’t think I’ve read any of them unless they were from new author
friends or were books friends recommended. I have so many paperbacks on my
shelves and books on my Kindle that I purchased because I genuinely <i>want </i>to read them that I doubt I’ll ever
get to the freebies. That means I won’t buy the author’s next book. I won’t
review it. If I ever read it, it might be years from now.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Secondly,
there are so many free books on the market that I could go without ever
purchasing another book if I so chose. The market is saturated with them. I
have an author friend whose writing I love. I’ve read three or four of her
books, but I have nine of them on my Kindle. She keeps writing good books, and
she keeps giving them away, and I keep downloading them. I’m not cheap. I
purchase lots of books, but when I see hers for free, I nab them in case I get
a chance to read them someday. I have another author friend who gave away a
zillion free books years ago when she first started writing. People were buying
them too. It worked. Then her second book came out and she gave it away also.
And a lot fewer people bought that one. After her third book—which she also gave
away—she reached the conclusion that her “fans” were just waiting for her to
eventually give her new books away. It was like she had to start all over and
find a new fan base because she was hardly making any sales. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My
third reason is not theoretical or disprovable like my first two. My third
reason that books shouldn’t be free is that it devalues the product. I spend
hundreds of hours on my books, researching, interviewing, planning, writing,
revising, editing, and promoting. I, like most authors, have even invested my
own money driving, purchasing swag, and paying editors, bloggers, advertisers, and
designers. Why do I spend all that time and money producing a work of art that
I’m proud of and everyone but me makes money off it? Editors aren’t editing for
free. Designers aren’t designing for free. I think you get the point.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Fourth—a
point similar to my third—is that giving away the books devalues the author’s effort.
Every other person in the world wants to get paid for their work. I go to craft
shows and art shows to sell my books in public quite often. People aren’t
walking through the show expecting all the vendors to give them their products.
Those vendors spent their valuable time and resources creating the products,
but more importantly, they put their talent into the work. Athletes, musicians,
and actors get paid for their time and talents. Authors should too. But the
more people who give away their books, the less a consumer is willing to pay
for others. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSw5EE8knVYe0zWY1u7a-xL2cMr6n1itkwQPyCqDMie7s-RWOk-axOy5ZxQwBdQfKNy9DiR_1k7xVPpNak5twV8uauL66jiodFaVaCGxD5OGe9fCNOsn8WF44M4yAdfx-dwASeunLBrQaCfPU8Nl9zjBOfTMqaaCYzHeEPng_uHcgajFmEWz6IjhaCyQ/s4000/books%2052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2667" data-original-width="4000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSw5EE8knVYe0zWY1u7a-xL2cMr6n1itkwQPyCqDMie7s-RWOk-axOy5ZxQwBdQfKNy9DiR_1k7xVPpNak5twV8uauL66jiodFaVaCGxD5OGe9fCNOsn8WF44M4yAdfx-dwASeunLBrQaCfPU8Nl9zjBOfTMqaaCYzHeEPng_uHcgajFmEWz6IjhaCyQ/s320/books%2052.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lost-Found-Jeff-LaFerney-ebook/dp/B00WBP2ARI/ref=sr_1_1_twi_1_kin?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1432140385&sr=1-1&keywords=Jeff+LaFerney" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">More shameless self-promotion</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I
understand the theories that a new author wants to be discovered or authors
want to get more reviews or authors believe by giving away one book, people
will purchase their others. However, from what I’m gathering, those things <i>used</i> to happen but are no longer a
guarantee. People with multiple books are seeing consumers wait around for the
next free book. I’m convinced that there are Kindle and Nook download addicts
that download book after book without any expectation of reading them, and
authors are giving away book after book because a handful of fortunate authors
praise the idea of giving them away. Some authors actually pay advertising
companies to promote their free book! People with <i>one</i> book are actually giving it away, and there is nothing new for
their readers to buy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Here’s
one more thing to consider. Every day I get emails from advertisers like Read
Freely, Read Cheaply, Free Booksy, Free Kindle Books and Tips, and The E-Reader
Café. Lately, I’m seeing books by some really well-known authors. I saw <i>The Maze Runner</i> recently, for instance.
Those books have yet to be free. They’re surrounded by titles by indie authors
for free, yet the well-known authors’ books are not. They’re discounted, but
not free. Do you think the authors who are making money know something that we
don’t? I think they realize that giving away books is no way to be compensated
for all the blood, sweat, and tears that goes into their work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">If
you’re an indie author and you’re thinking of giving away your books, how about
giving them away to people who promise to do a review or as gifts in contests
for people who follow your author page and interact with you personally? How
about giving them to libraries or proofreaders or beta readers or family
members or friends who you know will talk you up? If you want to do a special
promotion, just discount your book. I know I, for one, am far more likely to
read your book if I pay for it. And isn’t that what you want me to do? Read it?
As this market of free books continues to explode, it’s beginning to put the
rest of us out of business. You and I deserve to make some money on the five or
ten or twenty hours of entertainment we give our readers. We need to stop
letting everyone else make money off our books while we don’t. Remember,
without our books, none of those other people could make a cent. Giving it away
minimizes what we’ve done, so I’m standing on my soapbox calling out that we
need to stop the insanity—or at least slow it to a trickle. I’m of the firm
opinion that e-books have monetary value.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-32221801585581353232015-05-09T18:38:00.000-07:002015-05-11T15:45:48.639-07:00Baseball Quotes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXwIEeWONOANXEYwGYa_j1VTkBOuKx-1WDRIIqOVPFbbvAsZYtye7mPa4uJ1OZzuJo4HmqgEPS3sLFIJRzwTACYleOI4hluhkOrAig9QLQHhA475q5OlC7o276oKXz0CVQtMNuwkvVvN0g/s1600/a+baseball+blog+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXwIEeWONOANXEYwGYa_j1VTkBOuKx-1WDRIIqOVPFbbvAsZYtye7mPa4uJ1OZzuJo4HmqgEPS3sLFIJRzwTACYleOI4hluhkOrAig9QLQHhA475q5OlC7o276oKXz0CVQtMNuwkvVvN0g/s320/a+baseball+blog+5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I happen to love baseball. I played it all the time as a
kid, actually hoping someday I’d make the big leagues. I was pretty good, but
not <i>that</i> good. I read baseball
biographies, collected baseball cards, and learned about the all-time greats.
When I first started planning for a career, I wanted to be a Major League Baseball
color commentator. I still think I’d be better than a lot of them. Today’s blog
is about baseball. Quotes from TV and radio, movies, players, and books will be featured.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I’m starting with a couple of quotes from TV and radio:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“The immortal” Chico Escuela, who was said to have come to
the US from the Dominican Republic, was portrayed by <i>Saturday Night Live</i> cast member Garrett Morris in 1978. After John
Belushi introduced him, he got up, stood at the podium, and said in a thick
Hispanic accent: “Thank you berry much. Baseball been berry, berry good to me.”
Who hasn’t heard someone repeat that famous line about baseball? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Eis02HxGxfh8UsEdTLdrayEKI2Z5dsoYt1zwAZMQWFXSMYgSTmMa0kngZRwy93P3wWT5pKrW1Cixhtv9RxvGNwCBMFe5K7UIL1OwQvB1K88e_ffEK7iBgjGrw1hZRSOde_54KxP43PLi/s1600/a+baseball+blog+3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Eis02HxGxfh8UsEdTLdrayEKI2Z5dsoYt1zwAZMQWFXSMYgSTmMa0kngZRwy93P3wWT5pKrW1Cixhtv9RxvGNwCBMFe5K7UIL1OwQvB1K88e_ffEK7iBgjGrw1hZRSOde_54KxP43PLi/s320/a+baseball+blog+3.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">After 55 years of broadcasting Major League games, including
42 years with the Tigers, Hall of Fame broadcaster, Ernie Harwell, retired and has
since passed away. Often referred to as the Voice of Tigers Baseball, Harwell would
open each season before the first spring training game by reciting the
"Song of the Turtle," a stanza that celebrates the freshness of
spring, renewed life and opportunities, and ushers in the baseball season for
Tigers fans.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“For, lo, the winter is past,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The rain is over and gone;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The flowers appear on the earth;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The time of the singing of birds is come,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Anyone who has been a long-time Tigers fan remembers Ernie
Harwell fondly for how he helped us love baseball.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now for some movie quotes:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The upcoming quote ranked #54 in the American Film
Institute's list of the top 100 movie quotations in American cinema. This is a
dialogue from <i>A League of Their Own</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jimmy: Evelyn, could you come here for a second?
Which team do you play for? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Evelyn: Well, I'm a Peach. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jimmy: Well, I was just wonderin', 'cause I
couldn't figure out why you threw home when we got a two-run lead! You let the
tying run get to second, and we lost the lead because of you. You start using
your head. That's the lump that's three feet above your ass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">[Evelyn starts to cry]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jimmy: Are you crying? Are you crying? Are you
crying?! There's no crying! There's no crying in baseball!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Because of this movie and Tom Hanks, anyone who’s played the
game knows “there’s no crying in baseball.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge16e2em9uXKyW3k5CfZxSdF9MRuQdL7-g_KL_bLvE7nFIJqMoue926D2GDOUJYa6NNfS3zBejNYKbedcve4ZdZk6CQGNPZoL3pbvssxa2slur3rd5ZvPGWn3vol5i1jxiKqGcD-xZdZ1V/s1600/a+baseball+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge16e2em9uXKyW3k5CfZxSdF9MRuQdL7-g_KL_bLvE7nFIJqMoue926D2GDOUJYa6NNfS3zBejNYKbedcve4ZdZk6CQGNPZoL3pbvssxa2slur3rd5ZvPGWn3vol5i1jxiKqGcD-xZdZ1V/s1600/a+baseball+blog.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Here is a direct quote from the 1993 film, <i>Sandlot. </i>After being asked by Ham Porter
if he wanted a s'more, Scotty Smalls replies several times with the question,
"Some more what?" After his frustration grew with Scotty, Ham replies
with, "You're killing me, Smalls." This phrase is commonly used to
express discontent or frustration toward a person, and yes, it came from a
baseball movie.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">From <i>Field of Dreams, </i>I
included two dialogues that I love. One made me laugh and one touched my heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The pitcher knocks Archie Graham, the doctor who
goes back to his youth to get a second chance to play with professional
baseball players—the rookie—twice into the dirt with high, inside fastballs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Archie Graham: Hey, ump, how 'bout a warning?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Clean-shaven umpire: Sure, kid. Watch out you
don't get killed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Shoeless Joe Jackson (talking to Archie): The
first two were high and tight, so where do you think the next one's gonna be?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Archie Graham: Well, either low and away, or in my
ear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Shoeless Joe Jackson: He's not gonna wanna load
the bases, so look low and away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Archie Graham: Right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Shoeless Joe Jackson: But watch out for in your
ear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The next one is Kevin Costner getting a second
chance with his dad. Ray is Kevin Costner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">John Kinsella: Well, good night, Ray.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ray Kinsella: Good night, John.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">[They shake hands and John begins to walk away]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ray Kinsella: Hey... Dad?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">[John turns]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ray Kinsella: [choked up] You wanna have a catch?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">John Kinsella: I'd like that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Here’s another movie quote I hear all the time
from <i>Major League</i>. Rookie sensation,
Ricky Vaughn (Charlie Sheen) was pitching his first game, sans the thick-framed
glasses. The stadium was empty and Harry Doyle (Bob Uecker) was announcing the
radio play-by-play. Sheen uncorked a wild pitch about six feet outside that bounced
off the stadium wall behind, and what did Uecker say for his listeners? “JUST a bit outside.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Next are some quotes from Major League Baseball:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Fans, for the past two weeks you have been
reading about the bad break I got. Yet today, I consider myself the luckiest
man on the face of the earth.” Lou Gehrig said this at Yankee Stadium the day
he officially retired from baseball. He was dying of ALS (amyotrophic lateral
sclerosis, which is a progressive neurodegenerative disease that affects nerve
cells in the brain and the spinal cord—Lou Gehrig’s Disease), yet because of
baseball, he considered himself the luckiest man on the face of the earth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Before signing Jackie Robinson, Branch Rickey (the owner of
the Brooklyn Dodgers) made it very clear that: “I’m looking for a ballplayer
with guts enough not to fight back.” Rickey was looking for an individual who was
both a great athlete and a “gentleman”—a person with the inner-strength and
self-restraint who could withstand intense hostility and aggression without
being reactive. He needed an athlete who wouldn't perceive “not fighting back”
as a sign of weakness or lack of courage. In Mickey Mantle’s auto-biography
(which I read as a kid) called <i>The
Quality of Courage,</i> Mantle explains how not everyone liked Jackie Robinson
but he’d never run across anyone who didn’t respect him. Robinson broke the
color barrier in 1947, so he gets credit for ushering in a huge percentage of
my favorite players. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ernie Banks, nicknamed “Mr. Cub” and “Mr. Sunshine,” was a Major
League Baseball shortstop and first baseman for 19 seasons from 1953 through
1971—thanks partly to Jackie Robinson. He loved the game and his words are
often quoted on a beautiful summer day. “It’s a great day for baseball. Let’s
play two.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“It’s a round ball and a round bat, and you have to hit it
square.” Pete Rose or Ted Williams or Willie Stargell is credited with this
quote. I included it because I like it, plus I once heard a humorous
description of a square ball and a square bat and a player trying to hit the
ball around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCi6ZV4MdrYdieN_NixDM2z0uEl9csmJGSoq5Q0JWUpIL1efod6OoZXs2kpP9fKl7WQ3VjRqVzFurDyNkPlTFiUmFGtT0CdZTa9rmdmhm_xHsrZaUyfcvoNUrk_i38PSh0S6YKjtAFPx6/s1600/a+baseball+blog+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCi6ZV4MdrYdieN_NixDM2z0uEl9csmJGSoq5Q0JWUpIL1efod6OoZXs2kpP9fKl7WQ3VjRqVzFurDyNkPlTFiUmFGtT0CdZTa9rmdmhm_xHsrZaUyfcvoNUrk_i38PSh0S6YKjtAFPx6/s1600/a+baseball+blog+2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">A reporter asked superstar, Joe DiMaggio,
"Why did you play so hard?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Because there might have been somebody in
the stands today who'd never seen me play before, and might never see me
again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I like how he felt obligated to give his best
every day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Here are a few quotes from well-known authors
about baseball:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“[Baseball] is a game with a lot of waiting in it;
it is a game with increasingly heightened anticipation of increasingly limited
action.” ― John Irving, <i>A Prayer for Owen
Meany</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Baseball is a good thing. Always was, always will
be”…. “Baseball is also a game of balance.”― Stephen King, <i>Blockade Billy</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“My instinct is a winning coach, and when it said ‘Batter
up,’ I didn't argue that I wasn't ready for the game. I gripped the bat in both
hands, assumed the stance, and said a prayer to Mickey Mantle.”― Dean Koontz, <i>Odd Thomas</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Baseball isn't just a game. It's the smell of popcorn
drifting in the air, the sight of bugs buzzing near the stadium lights, the
roughness of the dirt beneath your cleats. It's the anticipation building in
your chest as the anthem plays, the adrenaline rush when your bat cracks
against the ball, and the surge of blood when the umpire shouts strike after
you pitch. It's a team full of guys backing your every move, a bleacher full of
people cheering you on. It's...life.” ― Katie McGarry, <i>Dare You To</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And finally, from another sports biography that I read as a
kid, Jim Bouton, author of <i>Ball Four</i>,
said, “You see, you spend a good piece of your life gripping a baseball, and in
the end it turns out that it was the other way around all the time.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yes, baseball has gripped me my entire life. It’s been “berry
berry good to me.” It’s America’s greatest pastime. And Smalls, like “The Song
of the Turtle,” it has showed renewed opportunities, broken the color barrier,
united father and son, made us laugh and cry, and showed us a slice of life
that stays in our vocabularies and gives us images of people proud enough to
give their best every day. “It’s life” so why not play two?</span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span></o:p></div>
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The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-5416001001445952312015-04-02T14:31:00.001-07:002015-04-04T07:41:55.807-07:00M-STEP (A Teacher's Point of View)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFa8XWqV23G40FqkkVPKM1oaLNrtQY7sZSiy9OQRXoqXDHdsNVgXXbNfLLSs0NtCI2pHzHOT0j3wEIlAobvH_b7uFtQpUpLZHYlea58H7giVZjA4t4RYoA-S_cLBiA8SuV9fixNd_nJthE/s1600/a+blog+4.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFa8XWqV23G40FqkkVPKM1oaLNrtQY7sZSiy9OQRXoqXDHdsNVgXXbNfLLSs0NtCI2pHzHOT0j3wEIlAobvH_b7uFtQpUpLZHYlea58H7giVZjA4t4RYoA-S_cLBiA8SuV9fixNd_nJthE/s1600/a+blog+4.png" height="236" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I’m
a school teacher in Michigan. We’re about to embark upon the M-STEP, which
replaces the MEAP test. The state of Michigan, like most states, has determined
what all of our core standards must be, and then in its supposed wisdom, our
state ascertained that it could write a test which proves once and for all whether
or not our students, teachers, and schools are succeeding. I won’t go into any
of the year-long mysteries about this assessment or technological issues
involved in the taking of this tool. I won’t even go into the scheduling issues
or stress factors or the fact that students are being exposed to the test for
the first time and teachers only recently finding out what “might” be on it and
what it’ll look like. It’s all for the good of education according to the
legislators. School districts, teachers, and students will be judged by it. Students
will learn if they’re proficient or not in a set of core standards that
legislators decided would be best. But that is not what I’m writing about, lest
you think I’m being negative. I’m writing about those students in my classroom
who don’t care about the thing—and how much it bothers me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Believe
me, I hear the complaints and concerns of students, parents, and teachers
alike, but my response is that it doesn’t matter. It’s a test. It’s required.
It’s what we’re told to do, so we should do it. Maybe it’s fair and maybe it’s
not, but why does that matter? Maybe it’s a bad test and maybe it’s not, but
how should that affect people’s attitudes? One of my favorite quotes is “Life
is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it.” There’s no way to prove
that quote to be true, but what it’s saying is…improve your attitude and do
what you have to do. Make the most of life’s circumstances. Stop whining, complaining,
moaning, and groaning. <i>Do your best</i> with
what life gives you. And what the public schools happen to be giving us right
now are core standards and standardized tests. So we need to do them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I
have a lot of pet peeves in this world. Most have to do with grammar. Some have
to do with people with bad attitudes. If the government told 16-year-olds that
they had to log 200 hours of drive time before they could get their licenses,
they’d <i>all</i> drive 200 hours because
it’s important to them. If in order to go to the prom, they had to wear a tie
or a dress, they’d wear a tie or a dress. If the sports coach said that
everyone had to wear warm-up jerseys for pre-game warm-ups, they’d all wear the jerseys whether they wanted to or not. If a parent said to a child, “You
can’t have dessert until you eat your vegetables,” the child would eat his
vegetables. If a publisher said, “I’ll only publish this book if you cut 30,000
words from it,” the writer would swallow his or her pride and find 30,000
superfluous words to cut. If the county sent a letter requiring a citizen to
show up for jury duty, the person would make arrangements to be there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I
could think of 100,000 examples of how life is. Do what your boss says. Play by
the rules. Obey your parents. Abide by the country’s laws. We are <i>always</i> being told what to do. You know,
I hate paying my property taxes, but I kind of like my house and where I live,
so I pay them. I don’t like getting penalized when I make late loan payments,
so I make them before someone else’s arbitrary cut-off date. I don’t like that I
can’t drive 80 plus on the expressway. It would save time to drive over 80,
wouldn’t it? I wish I didn’t have to be a certain age to get a full retirement
or draw social security. I don’t like it when my exit is closed and I have to
make a detour. I truly wish my grass didn’t grow continuously so I have to keep
cutting it. But life is what it is, so I do life. It doesn’t matter if I like
it, if it’s fair, or if it’s stupid. It doesn’t matter if it seems like a waste
of time, if I think the person who told me to do it is an idiot, or if it’s not
what I want to do. My life is <i>filled</i>
with me being expected to do things I don’t like or want to do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">There
are some rewarding things about my job and some things that are a pain in my
behind, but it’s my <i>job</i> to do them
all. And students…it’s your <i>job</i> to
take the standardized test whether you like it or not. Which leads me to the <i>real</i> reason I’m ranting. I’ve
established life is packed full of inconveniences and things we don’t like or
don’t want to do. I’ve established that those things don’t matter too awfully
much. We just do them. And I’ve established that our attitudes need to be
better. So here I am with this incredibly profound statement. Since you <i>have</i> to take the test, you should <i>do your best</i>! We’re taking time in our
classrooms to give the kids a little insight into what to expect from this brand
new M-STEP test, so shouldn’t they be listening? Shouldn’t they be practicing?
Shouldn’t they be planning on doing A, B, and C so they do their very best?
Here’s the big question. Shouldn’t they <i>care</i>?
If my coach told me I had one minute to make as many layups as I could, I’d try
to make them all. If I knew I was playing a solo at a recital, I’d <i>practice</i>. And while I was playing, I’d
try <i>not</i> to make a mistake. If I had a
part in a play, I’d learn my lines so I could be proud of my performance. If I
was white-water rafting and heading to a class five rapid and my guide told me
to paddle as hard as I could or I might die, I’d paddle exactly like I didn’t
want to die. If I had a special date, I’d plan and prepare so I’d make a good
impression. If I was taking an on-line IQ test, I’d darn well try to get every
single one right because I want to know how smart I am. You see, I’d do my
best. I’d pay attention to M-STEP hints. I’d do the practices. I’d go to bed
early and eat breakfast and bring a bottle of water on test day. I’d read the
wordy directions. If it said to write and give evidence, I’d give three or four
pieces instead of one or two. If my teacher showed me what the directions are
going to be like or introduced me to the on-line tools, I’d pay attention and
practice them with the class. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And
when the test day came, I’d try to get them all right. All of them. Every one
of them. I’d care. It wouldn’t matter how I felt about the thing. It’s <i>the</i> test. It’s how the state of Michigan
says I’m going to be evaluated. It’s how my teachers are being evaluated. It’s
how my school district is being evaluated. It doesn’t matter if I like it,
agree with it, want to do it, or think it’s fair. It’s the evaluation I’ve been
told to take, so I’ll take it, and I’ll do my best. I’m so sick of the whining
and complaints. I’m tired of the apathy and laziness. I’m exhausted trying to
help so many students who don’t care. People need to care. People need to do
their best. People need to conform to the test like they conform to nearly
everything else in their lives and suck it up and do the best they can. I don’t
like being told what to do any more than the next person, and I have opinions
just like the next guy. But I have a philosophy that says when I’m put to the
test, I try to do my very best.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>All</i> students
need to care. The test is coming whether they like it or not. It evaluates them.
They shouldn’t want to find out they’re not proficient. They shouldn’t want a bad
score in their student file if they do poorly. They shouldn’t want to let their
parents—or themselves—down. We all know there are flaws in the system. There will
almost certainly be flaws in this new test. Philosophically, and in any and
every other way, you may hate standardized testing and M-STEP. But so what?
Care anyway about how you do. Do your best anyway. Prepare…take it
seriously…listen…practice…follow the directions. Go above and beyond. Do the
best you can because this is exactly how life is. We do what we’re told
sometimes even when we don’t like it or when we think it’s stupid. It doesn’t
matter when it comes to this test. We do what we have to because that is
exactly how life always is. </span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-3141082186726483592015-03-31T13:51:00.000-07:002015-03-31T17:18:57.887-07:00Fun with Synonyms (A True Story)<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In honor of the fact that it snowed <i>again </i>in Michigan this morning, I decided to extract an archived
blog post from two winters ago (winter, by the way, sort of ends in
Michigan, and there <i>are</i> some
distinguishing characteristics of other seasons). I was observing my classroom
(a.k.a. I was taking attendance and entering make-up work), and my studious
pupils were absorbed in paragraph writing when—with no forewarning whatsoever—an
eighth grader in the front seat of the second row vomited all over my floor.
Luckily, no one was sitting beside him when he splattered the runny, liquidy
mess. After hurling the revolting chowder, he never raised his head an inch. I wondered
if he was too embarrassed to look up, but what I soon realized was he was too
sick. Again, without any warning, he started retching, only this time I saw it
happen. Out of his mouth jetted a wide stream of slimy sickness. What was on
the floor quadrupled in size—at least. The hoven stream of spew was as round as
his mouth and came shooting out of his throat like it was shot from a fire hose.
The liquescent flow upchucked for a good seven seconds straight. The rancid,
putrid gag sprayed and splashed into a pool the size of a bathtub. Students, to my amazement, scattered
politely. Surprisingly, not a single one of them heaved his or her own
breakfast contents. Finally, the boy, about eight pounds lighter, stumbled awkwardly
out of the room (I wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before), banging into
one desk and bouncing off one wall before escaping through the doorway, leaving
me and his classmates with a puddle of bile large enough to drown in. Four
steps from the door, we all heard round three, the jet-spray of fluid grossness
splashing in the hallway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The rank, foul smell accosted us all at once. Two windows
flew open, and chilling, sub-freezing, sweet February Michigan air satiated my
classroom. Everyone within fifteen feet of the stench acquired a new territory
to inhabit. I calmly phoned the main office and said something like, “There’s a
puddle of puke on my floor of enormous proportions. I need some help.” I wasn’t
exaggerating. If there wasn’t a gallon of stomach cesspool reeking in my
room…well, then there were <i>two</i> gallons—more
than should have sensibly fit in his stomach. There was a stagnant, fetid lake on my floor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As we waited for merciful assistance, sweatshirts stretched over
noses and frosty arms embraced tightly to bodies. One girl asked what was
taking so long. I said, “Our custodian isn’t a teleporter. It’ll take a few
minutes to get here.” Needless to say, I focused my astonishing teacher
attributes to the problem at hand. My goal wasn’t to wish the room rid of the squalid
pond of putrescence; it was to get my shivering, nauseated students to finish
that all-important paragraph. Girls were sticking aromatic chapsticks nearly up
their noses and everyone else’s arms and faces had disappeared into loose
garments. Three boys asked for permission to step into the hall, which I
granted on one condition—that they take their work with them to complete, but
as soon as they exited to the hallway, they stepped back in. It smelled worse
out there, but at least the boy wasn’t lying dead in front of the restroom,
ridded of half his body weight. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Probably eight full minutes after my emergency phone call,
who do you think arrived in my room? No, it wasn’t the custodian. He was away
at lunch. It was the principal’s secretary with a broom and one of those
buckets of chemically treated sawdust to soak up the lagoon on my floor. I
tried to find the actual name for the stuff on the internet and the best
options I found were “barfbits…chunderchow…[and] spewsoaker.” If you want to
visualize the bucket she was carrying, picture a three-year-old’s sand pail,
and then divide it by about three. It held roughly enough spewsoaker (that’s
the name I like best), to cover approximately two-square feet of the repulsive,
malodorous loch on my floor. It was the secretary that suggested I escort my
class to the Community Room for the remainder of the hour. Students hastily
flooded out the door (pardon my pun) and gratefully reassembled in the
refrigerated meeting room. Apparently, someone had opened a window in the room
and the glacial Michigan air had managed to freeze it in its exposed position.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Students gathered at tables, unloading their materials, not
even complaining that their newest classroom temperature was fixed at an Antarctical
(I made that word up) freezessence (I made that word up too). At least they
couldn’t smell that horrific barf or see that unsanitary tarn that was infesting
my classroom. We got right to work. Students put pen and pencil to paper and
teacher paraded around the room, my breath escaping in white clouds of glorious
freedom from nasal agony. Before the bell rang to end the class, I had the assignments
in my stiff, frozen fingers, and I sent my students happily on their way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Why do I tell this story—with only the slightest of
exaggeration? Because writing about gross things is amazingly entertaining and
fun. And choosing awesome synonyms to describe the dreadful experience was more
enjoyable yet. I did it because I had fun writing it, describing it, and
choosing appropriate words for it. I’ve learned the written word can be
engaging, compelling, charming, amusing, gripping, convincing, captivating,
enchanting, hilarious, mesmerizing, riveting, entrancing (I’m giving my
thesaurus a workout), and sickening (like this passage was). But most of all,
it can be wonderfully liberating. I can say things I’ve never said before. And
whether I exaggerate a touch or tell it like it really is, I get to be the one
to say it, knowing that my reader gets to be the one who enjoys it (or feels
queasy). I’ll never forget what happened in my classroom that Friday, but now,
neither will you. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-42181642800147258412015-01-24T11:40:00.001-08:002019-11-06T06:53:09.032-08:00Writing Is Fun<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Is
writing fun? I have a whole bunch of students in school who don’t think so.
Sometimes I even read comments by authors that make me think they aren’t having
much fun either. But this blog is about reasons why I think writing is fun for
me. Maybe some of it will ring true to my fellow writers as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">1)
<!--[endif]-->I
get to use my imagination. This one is so obvious that I wrote it first. I can
go places, be people, and do things I can’t in real life. I can get in a
female character’s mind and understand her. How awesome is that? I can do
miraculous things. I can say things I’d never get away with…and be as sarcastic
as I want. I get to decide what happens. I get to have my own way (and still
stay married). Would I like to build a world? Perform a miracle? Have a super
power? Drive a great car? Live in a different era? I could live out a fantasy
if I wanted, and I could find a solution to a problem. I could go on and on,
and I get to do those things and more with my imagination. It makes writing fun.</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">2)
<!--[endif]-->I
get to learn things. There are some writers producing works in very popular
genres who actually write books without having to do research to learn about
things related to their plot. I think it would take some of the fun out of
writing if I didn’t have to learn so much to make my stories click. I’ve
learned about brains and trains, the paranormal and parapsychology, history and
time travel, geography and theology, animals and angels, law and medicine. I’m
an English teacher, for heaven sakes, and I learn about grammar every time I
write. I’ve written five books and each process has been different. I learn
about writing every time I write. And what can I say about all that learning?
It’s been exciting…interesting…inspiring…and yes, sometimes even enjoyable.</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">3)
<!--[endif]-->It’s
rewarding work. When I coached and my team won or a player improved or a parent
thanked me, it was well worth the effort. When I teach and get a note from a
kid or I learn that a parent moved his or her child into my class or a student
makes me laugh, it’s well worth the effort. I get some of those same rewards as
an author. There are lots of feel good moments, making the work worthwhile. But
the most rewarding thing about writing (besides a large royalty check) is
finishing a book—the satisfaction of accomplishment. There’s a huge reward that
comes with the achievement. And if it sells and readers give positive feedback,
it’s even better. Nothing that’s worthwhile comes easy. And with work comes
sweat and occasional disappointment and failure. To finish a book, however, makes
it all worthwhile, and that’s pleasurable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">4)
<!--[endif]-->I
get to share myself with others. Some people go through life without ever
opening up. Believe me, writing opens writers up. Readers may not know they’re
seeing me when they read, but incorporated into my stories are my experiences,
passions, beliefs, anxieties, friends, failures, and sense of humor. You don’t
know if that character is me or not or if that stupid thing he did is something
stupid I did too (it probably is) or if that story that’s told is legit or
greatly enhanced or if movies, books, authors, sports teams, foods, or songs I
mention are because I happen to like them. You don’t know that for sure, but I
do, and it’s exciting to be immortalized inside a book. Only authors can do
that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOqxLoaXY5w3R8Vh97uTF64tt0dcN9NaTCHRdrSAepXwiDSI-Pq4D4O9zBQIjfdxMnr_gfjhNp4w9kLRC11vjzw4fm6fkyXfE1PaPg_UjKHfP48JL9WZKznWynia9FBnc6W0FVbn_tPUU/s1600/aaa+trading+cards.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOqxLoaXY5w3R8Vh97uTF64tt0dcN9NaTCHRdrSAepXwiDSI-Pq4D4O9zBQIjfdxMnr_gfjhNp4w9kLRC11vjzw4fm6fkyXfE1PaPg_UjKHfP48JL9WZKznWynia9FBnc6W0FVbn_tPUU/s1600/aaa+trading+cards.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">5)
<!--[endif]-->It’s
cool to hide things in my books. There’s a small animal in each of my books.
There’s a mini-grammar lesson in each book. There’s a reference to at least one
favorite author or book character in each book. There’s at least one character
in each book from pop culture whose name is made fun of and another or two
whose name is simply…well, one that would make the nurses at the hospital shake
their heads when the child was named. It’s entertaining being creative, knowing
I put things in my books that are uniquely me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-NSZ6BCibNQ73aQo1l5bxUx9c82t4xH-2oAJqKt4bBojLj7nizijXIn2UjrPWm2N_6wcDr9CAUu6PGNfGlF3FdPNfPEz_bWEiQobgyZCdp1L8XFifVgKyxzMe5dR0R6O6MuaOREpG8sAP/s1600/a+blog+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-NSZ6BCibNQ73aQo1l5bxUx9c82t4xH-2oAJqKt4bBojLj7nizijXIn2UjrPWm2N_6wcDr9CAUu6PGNfGlF3FdPNfPEz_bWEiQobgyZCdp1L8XFifVgKyxzMe5dR0R6O6MuaOREpG8sAP/s1600/a+blog+4.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">6)
<!--[endif]-->I’ve
written things that have made me cry. I’ve written things that’ve made me
laugh. I’ve written things that have caused me to send it to friends or read to
my family because I’m so happy about it. There are times when I’m stuck and, in
the middle of the most obscure activity, the solution pops into my head, and I
can’t wait to get back to work. The emotions involved in a writer’s work can be
a roller coaster, but who doesn’t like a roller coaster? Roller coasters are great,
aren’t they? Writing gives me experiences that I’ll never forget. I’ll never
forget waking up in the middle of the night and scrawling the ending to my
first novel on a pad of paper in the dark. I’ll never forget the exact moment I
solved the mysteries to my second and third novels. I cried at some point in
the writing of four of the five books I’ve penned. Writing is gratifying.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8bPwiDi-RIaydPpoW1ccw_GbWSMsda4oZ41bohwQqw0CfRzX4tuLbuD8zeVFp0B4SHInWmhRLCcl3Ms7jf60Y38rQUeKmg5U-qvZINkxqmYDkau0y4ATM7XCNIYksMK-5wRsHqDpN6f9p/s1600/a+blog+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8bPwiDi-RIaydPpoW1ccw_GbWSMsda4oZ41bohwQqw0CfRzX4tuLbuD8zeVFp0B4SHInWmhRLCcl3Ms7jf60Y38rQUeKmg5U-qvZINkxqmYDkau0y4ATM7XCNIYksMK-5wRsHqDpN6f9p/s1600/a+blog+8.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">7)
<!--[endif]-->Finally,
I’ve come full circle, and though this is similar to #1 above, writing is a pleasurable
way to escape. Life’s problems can disappear for a while when I write. Stress
for work or money problems or stupid decisions I’ve made can be forgotten
temporarily. Who needs yoga? When I write, I can get alone, and not <i>be</i> alone because my characters are real
to me. I can get the focus off <i>my </i>issues
and deal with theirs. I can get away from <i>my</i>
world and get mixed up somewhere else in theirs. I can get away from people
that get me down. And characters I don’t like or who deserve karma or justice,
I can kill them or ruin them (and not be a psychopath) or put them in jail or
at least put them in their place. For sure, it’s never boring.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW1a7ZK3d82tSA08NjM6oRexZ195N96NQ4AEYr8AS_ZwmCP6YX67882L2ZHmlaWKlgnPgjCYxTujrXGjKEE4o22KBOER-zOw6AWp-S7AxtWjnN5Sheswk054npnc_bGB9TTFQThkdwQAyv/s1600/a+blog+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW1a7ZK3d82tSA08NjM6oRexZ195N96NQ4AEYr8AS_ZwmCP6YX67882L2ZHmlaWKlgnPgjCYxTujrXGjKEE4o22KBOER-zOw6AWp-S7AxtWjnN5Sheswk054npnc_bGB9TTFQThkdwQAyv/s1600/a+blog+6.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I
started by asking the question, “Is writing fun?” I suppose that’s an opinion
question, but for a real writer, maybe it’s a rhetorical one instead. Of course
it’s fun. I (we) get to use my (our) imaginations, we get to learn things, we
find it rewarding, we share ourselves, we can do unique things, we get to feel
things, and we get to escape. Those are all great reasons to turn a hobby or a
talent into a passion. Give it a try sometime and experience the fun. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-4236155654950261512014-12-07T10:44:00.000-08:002014-12-07T10:44:39.899-08:00Homophones<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">In my second novel, <i>Skeleton
Key</i>, the murder mystery revolved around a train wreck, a wreck where
something went wrong with the brakes. I had a beta reader look over my
manuscript and at one point, she wrote, “I think you spelled brakes wrong.” I
did. There are two spellings with the same pronunciation, which I always
thought was the definition of a homonym. I guess they’re also often called
homophones. I did a search for “breaks” (the misspelling), and I found that I
misspelled it seven times. The other thirty or so, I got right. Regardless, since
I started <i>The Red Pen</i>, I’ve done
numerous spelling posts. This one about homophones (I plan to stubbornly call
them stupid spelling errors) was well over a year in the making as I looked for
homonym/homophone/stupid spelling errors on the Internet and with my students
at school. The list I made is incredible—funny but kind of sad at the same time.
These are the most interesting of the stupid spelling errors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">1. I showered and shampooed my hare. (This was such
a good idea, I showered and shampooed my cat.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">2. The book had a vampire and a wearwolf. (I’ve made
my list and I’ve determined for myself that I shall never wear clothing that
requires batteries, wear Crocs, wear Dickies, or wear wolves.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">3. I predict he’ll be the next American Idle. (Is
this a thing to strive for? I have a whole slew of idle Americans in my English
classes.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">4. No
parking. Violators will be toad. (That’s a harsh punishment.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjQeSsa7PkCP27LR9BWTGA_5cRMbBPL8Ke5IyKnudYI9-T7m10da_n3qNMmxqy5_FAhxgL24Ro4Jc6e4jd5ZE2cJe7dnqnmjMFJ5C_bz2D-sg8_X_bd7dPuYXN0V2zKWt3YGu2XLXVNMXD/s1600/a+blog+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjQeSsa7PkCP27LR9BWTGA_5cRMbBPL8Ke5IyKnudYI9-T7m10da_n3qNMmxqy5_FAhxgL24Ro4Jc6e4jd5ZE2cJe7dnqnmjMFJ5C_bz2D-sg8_X_bd7dPuYXN0V2zKWt3YGu2XLXVNMXD/s1600/a+blog+7.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">5. Isn’t that a picture of Noah’s arc? (Well, God
did provide a rainbow, so it’s possible.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">6. He was a pathetic heroine addict. (I resent the pathetic
tag because I’ve been hooked on good female characters before as well. I think
I’m a Jennifer Lawrence heroine addict, for instance.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">7. It was wrapped around his waste. (Most likely,
this would be a garbage bag.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">8. The man
had a balled head. (I hope it’s not football shaped.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFCOBCn05elXMdLGlcAw5j6Lp6KCCgk2ApDrydJWwAF2MnKqVcE8209XkUNx94rCUuSHyDVtLzLLdCRs6z2SuzUIZfvRwmVbNahar0sUFQRZjFwWteK-Txu_d9W1uguTlym85RTGdD2zxq/s1600/a+blog+14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFCOBCn05elXMdLGlcAw5j6Lp6KCCgk2ApDrydJWwAF2MnKqVcE8209XkUNx94rCUuSHyDVtLzLLdCRs6z2SuzUIZfvRwmVbNahar0sUFQRZjFwWteK-Txu_d9W1uguTlym85RTGdD2zxq/s1600/a+blog+14.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">9. We had to shoe him from the shop. (This one
reminds me of my student who wrote, “It’s nice to meat you.” I pictured him happily
hitting someone with a pork chop—which is only slightly worse than whacking the
guy with a sneaker.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">10. The Loan Ranger rides again. (Passing out money
to</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> needy criminals, no doubt.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">11. Mix it
with flower. (This is how it’s done.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOkce5IW5NHM0FOtJuEwJXeqYPcu-1YzVFJyoIKdONFk4BzybkAuV0UjhRheXHfGKNI3ns1sZhWhKo8FTYP1LivBrJpusOB5PXiMv7uLU2hIg9Sl3RYr_6_8yQ8rQ5WR-LeB3cToddQ3Y4/s1600/a+blog+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOkce5IW5NHM0FOtJuEwJXeqYPcu-1YzVFJyoIKdONFk4BzybkAuV0UjhRheXHfGKNI3ns1sZhWhKo8FTYP1LivBrJpusOB5PXiMv7uLU2hIg9Sl3RYr_6_8yQ8rQ5WR-LeB3cToddQ3Y4/s1600/a+blog+8.jpg" height="170" width="200" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">12. I was mesmerized by her bear shoulders.</span><span style="font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: large;">(People have</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: large;"> eagle beaks, hawk eyes, and knees
like a camel, so why</span></span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: large;"> not bear shoulders?)</span></span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">13. He’s a cereal killer. (Aren’t we all? Breakfast
is the most</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> important meal of the day.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">14. The earthquake berried the family. (It was at a
Smucker’s</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> manufacturing plant.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">15. There’s a
leek in the boat! (This doesn’t
really sound like</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 58.5pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> much of an emergency to me.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHFUzyadQoni0mRldnHZB9hXmsvFsg5EB2A84ohCX7RS2GS85KCzqY4pDFeIJxzJE0Gz6ASsTadmIj_6zFCB4NqPIwhTjRRdypQ0TTj1MgGqzcPuL-rRYV4yVqn0QALDPYx37E8zZJrfIS/s1600/a+blog+13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHFUzyadQoni0mRldnHZB9hXmsvFsg5EB2A84ohCX7RS2GS85KCzqY4pDFeIJxzJE0Gz6ASsTadmIj_6zFCB4NqPIwhTjRRdypQ0TTj1MgGqzcPuL-rRYV4yVqn0QALDPYx37E8zZJrfIS/s1600/a+blog+13.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">16. He walks with a smooth gate. (It’s cumbersome and</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> attracts a lot of attention, but it’s smooth.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">17. She has a fowl disposition. (As evidenced by how
she flies</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> off the handle and posts angry tweets.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">18. I disgust it with my wife. (No comment.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">19. Grab a coat. It’s chili outside. (Shouldn’t they
be grabbing</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> bowls and spoons?)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">20. He’s the
air to the throne. (Something like this, I assume.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0n5jBHLVhqptFmC9aGSJsBL7Y9XoWRhSYDmUnuzsswyYO9BDFAWlLDviGcbQLNtoShfgUVlJlb0UwIpKXxme3J4JJ0hi5y8pIUhaLogRQaau5v7Z_OtMdPJnqgUlDuUSUpdi0QpsULjT/s1600/a+blog+15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0n5jBHLVhqptFmC9aGSJsBL7Y9XoWRhSYDmUnuzsswyYO9BDFAWlLDviGcbQLNtoShfgUVlJlb0UwIpKXxme3J4JJ0hi5y8pIUhaLogRQaau5v7Z_OtMdPJnqgUlDuUSUpdi0QpsULjT/s1600/a+blog+15.jpg" height="200" width="149" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I had a list of probably 35 stupid spelling homophones
collected, but by now, you get the point. This is the type of thing I deal with
in class with my students and on the internet with careless adults. It’s funny
though—funny as in curious. Almost every stupid spelling error I wrote above is
underlined in my text—a sure sign to the writer that a stupid spelling error has been made. The spell check feature is pretty handy for a writer. And if a
writer isn’t sure about a homonym/homophone and is wary of making a stupid
spelling error, all he or she has to do is go to Google and type “bear or
bare” or “gait or gate,” for instance, and
incredibly, there is an answer that’s handy within a portion of a second. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">In <i>Bulletproof</i> in
an early scene, a drunk bar patron announces to a man from whom he’d just won a
bet that he needed “to take a leek.” My aunt sent me a giggling note on
Facebook saying, “That’s a vegetable, Jeff.” We all make mistakes, but that
doesn’t change the fact that each and every one of them is a stupid spelling
error. Its time that defenders of there language stood up and said allowed, “Get
you’re homophones write!” (Otherwise, it’ll look like five more stupid spelling
errors.) Class dismissed. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-52856467721411201452014-10-28T16:13:00.000-07:002024-02-17T08:20:30.656-08:00No Pun Intended<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV0lVhjlFyQ_brw14JUztIW2Z1HsD_Z_6y2D7rha0OEZY421q6Hk6lm6kU7AbbHbSk1bJwJsnzC2I2JsRZHFqyV7LNdQr-qkAIwDiR781HbhRUXSZrY7ZH-2pjrPXjNTfbP5_7t-UfYAaP/s1600/a+pun+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV0lVhjlFyQ_brw14JUztIW2Z1HsD_Z_6y2D7rha0OEZY421q6Hk6lm6kU7AbbHbSk1bJwJsnzC2I2JsRZHFqyV7LNdQr-qkAIwDiR781HbhRUXSZrY7ZH-2pjrPXjNTfbP5_7t-UfYAaP/s1600/a+pun+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> Pet peeves are common. When I stop to think of it, I have a hyperbolic number of them—somewhere close to a zillion. One of them (or maybe it’s two) have to do with the utterance of “pun intended” and “no pun intended.” I can’t think of two phrases more unnecessarily spoken. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> Here is the definition of a pun: "A pun, or paronomasia, is a form of word play that deliberately exploits ambiguity between similar-sounding words for humorous or rhetorical effect." A pun is basically a play on words, like in the joke, "Where do cows go on a Saturday night? The moooovies." Moooovies is a pun. I have to say, even those of us who only understand about 60% of the words in the definition above get a pun when we hear one, yet some word masters are intent on telling us they made a pun…just in case we missed it, so let me start with the egotistical “pun intended.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> This phrase is said by a person who is so brilliant and witty that they’re fairly bursting with personal pride. People who finish their puns with the phrase “pun intended” are clearly on a different intellectual level than the rest of us dimwits. I mean, we’re so intellectually challenged that we have to be reminded by the genius punster. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> “Uh, hey, all you stupid people. I have a categorically witty linguistic locution I’m about to execute on your unintelligent ears. It goes like this. ‘I went to a seafood disco last week... and pulled a mussel.’ Hahahahahahaha! Oh, by the way, <i>pun intended</i>.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> And then inane people like me will clearly feel the need to kneel, stunned, in genuflective posture in reverence to the supreme intellectual being in our presence, contemplating the hilarious pun that we just missed. “Let’s see. Is it a pun to have seafood and disco in the same sentence? No…I think not. Are his muscles weak? Could be. Did he mean ‘see’food because there’s no such thing as a seafood disco is there? Wait…after further review, I think a mussel is a kind of seafood…<i>and</i> I believe a disco dancer could pull a muscle, hence there’s a pun. I’m certainly indebted to the word scientist for pointing out a pun I would have never recognized on my own.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> Like me, I’m sure you appreciate jesters wisecracking in your presence and then reminding you that their witticisms are too clever for you and any of your other companions to get. “Did you hear about the man who stole a calendar? He got 12 months.” Chortle. “Pun intended.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> At which point all of your daft colleagues respond incredulously.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> “Entertainer man, you’re not as funny as you think. Maybe you should take a day off.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> “Yeah, that joke is really dated.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> “Get with the times.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> “That joke was week.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> You see, anyone who has to say “pun intended” must think that they’ve achieved an intellectual superiority that the common man is unable to attain. And since puns are <i>way</i> up on the IQ humor pyramid (practically at the peak, I assume), they have to inform us when they’ve dropped a quip right in our laps. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> Maybe, however, the “pun intended” people are simply so desperate for a laugh at their lame attempt at humor, they say the irritating phrase as a clue that if we feel sorry enough for them, we’ll give a polite giggle or groan or eye roll. It’s the same as saying, “Friends who feel sorry for me, I made a joke. Will you please laugh?" They should just say, “Ha ha, you get it right? I made an ill-informed attempt to be funny, and it’s falling as flat as an Iowa landscape. If you would just laugh, I won’t feel quite so humiliated.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> Then, there are those who say, “No pun intended.” Why in the world do they do that? Let me start with writers. A writer writes a pun…unintentionally. He or she recognizes that there’s a pun.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> “I was in the Piggly Wiggly with my darling daughter, wandering aimlessly, looking for leeks. In aisle three, a one-armed man fumbled a can of asparagus which loudly clattered to the floor. My little princess charged to the rescue. ‘Can I give you a hand?’ she asked.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> What if once the above writer completed the scene, he/she noticed that “hand” was a pun? Is there any logical reason for the writer to insert “Oh, gosh, I didn’t intend to write a pun there”? If the writer doesn’t intend a pun, he or she could revise and say something like, “Let me help you.” Or the writer could leave it and say to him or herself, <i>I didn’t intend to write a pun, but low and behold, I did it anyway. I think I’ll leave it</i>. I mean, I don’t care if he didn’t intend it. I’ve never once in my entire life read a play on words and stopped myself so I could speculate. <i>I doubt seriously that the author made that pun on purpose, but I wish he would have told me by saying something clever like “no pun intended” so I could know and read on in peace</i>. Let me say this loud and clear. If a writer writes a pun which wasn’t intended and said writer feels the need to tell me the pun was not intended, then the writer should revise the sentence and eliminate the play on words. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> There is also the situation, reading and speaking alike, where the person <i>obviously</i> made an intentional pun. So why on God’s green earth do they say “No pun intended”?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> “Hey, Jeff, I have a story to tell you, set during the Cold War. Bob, from America, was arguing with Rudolf from Soviet Russia. They argued about politics, religion, their presidents—even about the weather. One night Rudolf said it was raining outside, but Bob would not agree. He said it was sleeting. So they argued all night: Rain! Sleet! Rain! Sleet! The argument continued until Bob's wife pulled him aside and said: ‘Sweetheart, you're wrong. It <i>is</i> raining. And this time the Russian is right, because…Rudolf the Red knows rain, dear.’ No pun intended."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> Seriously? The whole purpose of the joke was to tell a pun.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> “Two peanuts walk into a bar, and one was a salted. No pun intended.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> Of course. Let me ponder your inane statement a moment. Are you certain two peanuts were walking? And of the two walking peanuts, who happened to walk into a drinking establishment (because peanuts get thirsty too), you happened to notice that one was a salted peanut and one wasn’t. That “a salted” play on words thing that you said at the end of your interesting, true story was totally unintentional? Thanks for clearing that up. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> I saw some dude on Facebook make a post. He said, and I quote, “Frankly, I don’t like hot dogs. No pun intended.” I know the “pun intended” guy from the beginning of this blog thinks he’s the only one with brains, but the “Frankly” guy is even more condescending. Am I to be so naively stupid that I should accept he said “Frankly” by mistake, noticed it, kept it in his post, and then took the time to tell me he didn’t intend to write it? “There’s a pun in my post, people (if you look closely, you’ll discover it too), but I didn’t put it there on purpose and I want you to know I’m so clever, sometimes I write in puns unintentionally. It’s crazy but true.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> Give me a break. <i>Pun intended</i> and <i>No pun intended</i> are two of the dumbest things people can say, and yes, they are pet peeves of mine. Punners, when you make a play on words, let us groan at it of our own free will, and if you do it unintentionally, so be it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> There was a person who sent twenty different puns to his friends with the hope that at least half of the plays on words would make them laugh. No pun in ten did.</span><br />
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The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-28628170218678647802014-10-11T11:33:00.001-07:002021-05-05T16:49:23.016-07:00Pet Peeves <div class="MsoNormal">
<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">I’m not a bitter person, and I’m actually pretty cool. Not
in the <i>Happy Days</i> Fonzie kind of way,
but in the nothing really bothers me much kind of way. Yet, lately I’ve been
thinking of some of my pet peeves. Again, the thoughts I was having weren’t raising
my blood pressure any. Instead, they were making me want to share, just to see
who agrees with me. Seriously. Who agrees with me on some of these? I’d like to
know. So, here is a list of pet peeves that are worth mentioning—in no
particular order.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->It bothers me when my family puts dirty dishes
in the sink “to soak.” How about rinsing off your dishes <i>before</i> the leftovers harden on your plate and putting the dishes in
the dishwasher so when <i>I </i>rinse things
off, the sink doesn’t fill with disgusting water that I have to put my hand in
so it’ll run down the drain like it’s supposed to? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->It bothers me when my next door neighbor mows
his yard and mows about 20 feet into my yard. I honestly think he somehow
thinks he’s doing me a favor, but he’s not. Who wants to look out his or her
window and see a yard that’s 20% mowed and 80% unmowed? Is he trying to get me
to mow too? Why? I keep my yard looking nice. Is he trying to make it look like
he has a great big yard and I have a little itty bitty one? I wish he’d stop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->It bugs me that ropes, cords, strings, jewelry,
or any other stringy-shaped articles are alive and tie themselves in knots of
their own volition. How can I untangle my extension cord, pump up my car tires,
and throw my straightened cord next to the wall on my garage floor and then
have it tangled in a jumbled mess the next time I pick it up? Why are my
earphones for my phone always in a knot, no matter how neatly I place them in my
drawer? I have a whole blog about this topic it’s so frustrating. </span><a href="http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/2013/06/strings-are-alive-and-other-obvious.html" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;" target="_blank">http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/2013/06/strings-are-alive-and-other-obvious.html</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDhmaGurhlWxDmekmJgCH0TUa6yNubxKIzE04jUyhe7MK3LW1sjY2en7ge5sOYfZ28nFXrg_YCLf9rdYP-gROi6rWz1LL8jq8Sopg6HsKNkKrxa2BymuZtDe-WbIAECjAP7zAFjaZwVNj3/s1600/a+blog+3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDhmaGurhlWxDmekmJgCH0TUa6yNubxKIzE04jUyhe7MK3LW1sjY2en7ge5sOYfZ28nFXrg_YCLf9rdYP-gROi6rWz1LL8jq8Sopg6HsKNkKrxa2BymuZtDe-WbIAECjAP7zAFjaZwVNj3/s1600/a+blog+3.jpg" /></a></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Driving behind someone who is going well below
the speed limit bugs me—almost as much as when someone pulls out in front of me
and then immediately puts on a turn signal and brakes, so I have to wait for him
to turn. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">5.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->People who use the F-word numerous times in the
same sentence. Now, I can deal with swearing. I read books and watch movies and
live life out in public, but am I to be impressed when the speaker manages to
use the F-word as a noun, verb, adverb, and adjective in the same sentence? I
want to say, “Excuse me, there’s a book full of synonyms for your favorite
word,” and then I want to present said person with the gift of a thesaurus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">6.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton bug me. Those two
men have propagated far more racism than they’ve alleviated. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">7.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->People who can’t do simple math bug me. For
instance, I’ll give back a paper in class that says 8/10. Kids ask me what
grade that is. Then they’ll say, “I had a zero for this assignment. Will this
improve my grade?” I’m always tempted to say “No, 8 out of 10 is a negative
number and your grade is worse now.” I made a $9.99 purchase this summer. The
cash register was down, so the cashier had to figure the purchase by hand—using
a calculator, of course. Michigan sales tax is 6%, so the tax is easy (60
cents). She wrote 9.99 down on paper, used the calculator to figure the tax at
60 cents and then wrote that under 9.99. Then she used the calculator to add
the two numbers together. It told her 10.59. I waited patiently for this
process, and then gave her $11.00. She got all flustered so I told her that my
change was 41 cents. She said, “I know.” She then wrote 11.00 on her paper and
put 10.59 under it, and she proceeded to punch the numbers into the calculator
twice (I assume she was checking her answer out of amazement that I knew it
before she did) and wrote .41 under the number—confirming what she claimed she already knew. Now the problem was adding the coins together. She took a
quarter from the drawer, hesitated, and then put it back and took out four
dimes and a penny. That was easier. The transaction took over five minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">8.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I get a little nutty when people borrow my paperback
books and return them with the binding all cracked and creased. Am I the only
one who believes things should be returned in as good of condition as when they
were borrowed? Books are <i>not </i>supposed
to look like this when they’re returned.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJjnnEqyIPeqJ9nhYphiepngKo2vpTcOGg00szOwv0rcmbTwqh8LS078BFvqTHAbnWdTSQgceASJ0h8PYVHJfx_3hJiFV2QhA8HU0SK4z6CTIFGNXV_uD6DcqPjmKzF_0EbsEq7bkLtjqp/s1600/a+blog+4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJjnnEqyIPeqJ9nhYphiepngKo2vpTcOGg00szOwv0rcmbTwqh8LS078BFvqTHAbnWdTSQgceASJ0h8PYVHJfx_3hJiFV2QhA8HU0SK4z6CTIFGNXV_uD6DcqPjmKzF_0EbsEq7bkLtjqp/s1600/a+blog+4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">9.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Shouldn’t people say thank you when I hold a
door for them or shouldn’t they wave when I let their car in front of me in
traffic? Common politeness is gradually disappearing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">10.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->When your boss tells you that he/she has had “a
couple” of complaints or “several” complaints, we all know that he or she got <i>one</i>, right? So in my case, <i>one </i>parent complained about something
and 159 did not. So why must I change what I’m doing when 99.375% of my
students’ parents are <i>not </i>complaining.
(Yes, I used a calculator for that one). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">11.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Am I the only consumer that is irritated that
every gas station in the county is selling gasoline for the same exact price? <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_DWHitxRc0h0VoWRQ1oIgDdWHotbzJ_65-zbSIRZlJGsZgQ-rDg192suzyxzQAhck-ZodJ9rW-mbV28lCK0vm1HZrLjJYsJFPApOkSANVYRETCa1xJS_zSE9HNJY6rGRI19Za7QovFhkA/s1600/a+blog+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_DWHitxRc0h0VoWRQ1oIgDdWHotbzJ_65-zbSIRZlJGsZgQ-rDg192suzyxzQAhck-ZodJ9rW-mbV28lCK0vm1HZrLjJYsJFPApOkSANVYRETCa1xJS_zSE9HNJY6rGRI19Za7QovFhkA/s1600/a+blog+2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">12.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Why do half-gallons of ice cream now come in
containers far smaller than a half-gallon? Do the packagers and manufacturers
think I’m too dumb to notice?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">13.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Daylight savings time. Need I say more? If I
took a board and sawed off a foot from the top and attached it to the bottom,
it would not be longer. I have a blog post about my atomic clock that <i>will not </i>reset for the new season. Uh,
yes, six months of the year, my clock is wrong and there’s nothing I can do
about it besides smash it to smithereens, which I’ve considered. I have a
separate blog about this issue as well. <a href="http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/2013/03/daylight-savings-and-atomic-clocks.html" target="_blank">http://jefflaferney.blogspot.com/2013/03/daylight-savings-and-atomic-clocks.html</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">14.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->People who call their newborn child “Baby” confuse
me. Is this a new fad or does it just happen in Central Michigan? “It’s time to
take Baby home…We can’t make it. Baby isn’t feeling well…Baby is sleeping six
hours now.” Could it be “the” baby? Does Baby actually have a name?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">15.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I have to admit I’m not a drinker, so what I’m
about to say might be totally ridiculous, but why, when people have a drink and
a camera is pointed at them, do they have to raise their drink in the air to
show it off? I don’t do that with a can of Mountain Dew. Coffee drinkers don’t
do that. Can you see me holding up my glass of milk at breakfast?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">16.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span>Packaging sometimes is a pet peeve. Does anyone else hate that plastic sealed packaging that electronics comes in? Why should I need a knife, scissors, and a trip to emergency to get into a package? </span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">17.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Okay, I’ve waited long enough to admit this. I
hate when people don’t know the difference between it’s and its; there, their,
and they’re; are and our; your and you’re; who’s and whose; and to and too (among others).
Sorry…I had to say it. But this picture makes me laugh. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilG1jmH6T7kp9jFC_X3XU1gUhjI4Pey1J-hPHCWcF8t8kjWKWjtUS_4EXyLsvEK0pBf73HCfgPcNGixMLZpaRipFOAEY0_nytxihh0vYOuKGqsu5d8fD9klmYKZhC9HF-4YNkWfsfK3rYx/s1600/grammar+joke+4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilG1jmH6T7kp9jFC_X3XU1gUhjI4Pey1J-hPHCWcF8t8kjWKWjtUS_4EXyLsvEK0pBf73HCfgPcNGixMLZpaRipFOAEY0_nytxihh0vYOuKGqsu5d8fD9klmYKZhC9HF-4YNkWfsfK3rYx/s1600/grammar+joke+4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">18.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Since I’m on the topic, when people say things
like “I seen that movie” or “It don’t matter,” I cringe. Sorry, again, but I’m
an English teacher. Should I include double negatives?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">19.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I roll my eyes when golfing with people who take
three or four foot “gimmees” on the putting green and then brag about their
scores at the end of the round. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">20.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->It’s mind-boggling when people accuse someone
else of being “selfish” simply because they didn’t get what they wanted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">As I’ve written this blog, I’ve come to realize I could go
on and on and on. Maybe there’ll be another post in the future, but what are
some of your pet peeves? I’d love to hear them. And if your pet peeve is an
author pushing his/her books, let me just drive you crazy because mine are for
sale at both Amazon and Barnes & Noble. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Jeff+LaFerney" target="_blank">http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Jeff+LaFerney</a> and <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/Jeff-Laferney?keyword=Jeff+Laferney&store=book" target="_blank">http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/Jeff-Laferney?keyword=Jeff+Laferney&store=book</a> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-6548739229495077772014-09-07T16:36:00.000-07:002014-09-07T16:39:09.168-07:00Word for the Year <div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-size: large;">The new school year started with a day of teacher
in-service. A guest motivational speaker included in his message the concept of
choosing a specific “word for the year.” His thinking was simple enough. If we
could choose a word that represents an area of our life that we would like to
improve, and if we focused on that word on a daily basis, the word would become
part of our lives. It would seep into our existence and change us. He
challenged us to choose a word and commit to allowing it to impact our lives.
As a teacher, words like <i>patience</i>, <i>relationships</i>, <i>serve</i>, or <i>optimism</i> might have
been good words for me, for instance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The language arts department at my school, of
which I’m a member, decided to challenge our students to choose a word for the
year, and the activity worked well. I’ve decided to challenge you too. Let me
give you some examples first. Maybe your word could be <i>goal</i> or <i>dream</i>. Are you
good at setting goals and plotting out a plan for success? Is there something
you’d like to accomplish, but you just can’t seem to push yourself to do it?
Maybe if you chose <i>goal</i> or <i>dream</i> as your word and meditated on it
each day, you’d be able to accomplish something meaningful in your life.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWA65L6f4H2dPj3WgTM0lLZ2Syd_hQLYk-47ZFefUZ-oBPRK2j4gzM3FSLHKkmcRkHPTX5lpRR-gRbXayWNDUEkE53XMVNdKadrzrDTwdn2LXiLBoyqOgzWijARog_3qHoCJLbmFCaOSaJ/s1600/a+blog+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWA65L6f4H2dPj3WgTM0lLZ2Syd_hQLYk-47ZFefUZ-oBPRK2j4gzM3FSLHKkmcRkHPTX5lpRR-gRbXayWNDUEkE53XMVNdKadrzrDTwdn2LXiLBoyqOgzWijARog_3qHoCJLbmFCaOSaJ/s1600/a+blog+1.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe your word could be <i>moment</i>. Do you find it difficult to not dwell on the past or worry
about the future? Is it possible that if you try to focus on the moment—the
only time you actually have some control over—that you might be more
productive, happier, more content, or healthier?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhasLhgCSRi5kwoLQfdX3YGY-dK0u25fWtr2FWQt66P42-Cg8CiNKoqlY98KklA1aPd0AmvLIraVEzDfnbcUrBwTH5zv7N6y5g3iZRQnaEPZp3qMTsyIM_-Jp2RnL3hWF9p-78YcIOlOiHz/s1600/a+blog+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhasLhgCSRi5kwoLQfdX3YGY-dK0u25fWtr2FWQt66P42-Cg8CiNKoqlY98KklA1aPd0AmvLIraVEzDfnbcUrBwTH5zv7N6y5g3iZRQnaEPZp3qMTsyIM_-Jp2RnL3hWF9p-78YcIOlOiHz/s1600/a+blog+10.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw_cQo9nwvzcyQQ5P_e1pXaOVwu4Z9M9aG63bkzO8CF_dEloI0NDKQWfmOV-mCu9lXohl6HFfGDIGuAihffc_psr9hR0CTRbDpwvrzmqPTdk542ukxlBpIAGkfP1Y8n5Aq_NTPnDZ9ueVC/s1600/a+blog+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw_cQo9nwvzcyQQ5P_e1pXaOVwu4Z9M9aG63bkzO8CF_dEloI0NDKQWfmOV-mCu9lXohl6HFfGDIGuAihffc_psr9hR0CTRbDpwvrzmqPTdk542ukxlBpIAGkfP1Y8n5Aq_NTPnDZ9ueVC/s1600/a+blog+5.jpg" height="200" width="185" /></a></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe your word could be <i>grow</i>. Maybe you could strive daily to learn from your experiences.
Maybe you could try to see the good in things or try to use your circumstances
as an opportunity to help others. We should learn from our mistakes and see the
good that may come from our trials. Maybe if we looked at things as life
lessons, we could be more content with our lives.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4lZxBMyQJxDgiv4AcnPCroPxEaq3UrPbj-vf7XW7t9c0lbu6AfwCf2uIYgh78uVzVJRAw2aWJXI2lhEiuHdYCDElpMtWaGdJWUHS9EoOw09IEKsR-QUGF6s70VngffkaaC2ML8dDrjn7V/s1600/a+blog+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4lZxBMyQJxDgiv4AcnPCroPxEaq3UrPbj-vf7XW7t9c0lbu6AfwCf2uIYgh78uVzVJRAw2aWJXI2lhEiuHdYCDElpMtWaGdJWUHS9EoOw09IEKsR-QUGF6s70VngffkaaC2ML8dDrjn7V/s1600/a+blog+6.jpg" height="244" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe your word could be <i>give</i> or <i>help</i>. How much
better would the world be if we were able to put ourselves second and think
about others first? What if we decided to be a servant and actually look for
opportunities to give of ourselves—our time…our resources…our love? Isn’t it
possible that we could have an impact on others? Isn’t it possible that our
impact on others would make our own lives more fulfilling?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjopb2L4PT_c06NkUjsxsPiomD9LK9ADmGD1z774ZKJKhH1liZCmMABrqidYsCfoAcwfwd6p4upTTOi4VH8wBtR0NrCLDapoOGc6TtD3YKNquG-Lar8iJM-5dU7PbVzJ_pZN9kQfcFf44FS/s1600/a+blog+11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjopb2L4PT_c06NkUjsxsPiomD9LK9ADmGD1z774ZKJKhH1liZCmMABrqidYsCfoAcwfwd6p4upTTOi4VH8wBtR0NrCLDapoOGc6TtD3YKNquG-Lar8iJM-5dU7PbVzJ_pZN9kQfcFf44FS/s1600/a+blog+11.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUA7RdY_NkQtU7cSiF3J-k4obGhLKvbXwyjqIyXVRSe04egJ03a0prOvIdM1Yd_jU87R8ZCdbenT7i-QUZIZK82kl1bw9MyfA_drbz8c_VCINN-9ruLhq3wmGY2Fqc50aXh2Udf7PETi1O/s1600/a+blog+12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUA7RdY_NkQtU7cSiF3J-k4obGhLKvbXwyjqIyXVRSe04egJ03a0prOvIdM1Yd_jU87R8ZCdbenT7i-QUZIZK82kl1bw9MyfA_drbz8c_VCINN-9ruLhq3wmGY2Fqc50aXh2Udf7PETi1O/s1600/a+blog+12.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe your word could be <i>positive</i> or <i>optimistic</i>. What
a change this word could make. If we could show more optimism, I think we’d have
less stress in our lives. I think we’d be more at peace, and we’d sleep better
at night. I think we’d find good things to cheer us and say good things to
cheer others. I think we’d like more people and be better liked. We’d be a
better friend, we’d feel better, and getting up in the morning would be easier.
We’d react better to the troubles in our lives and we’d be happier.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5R-CgNSLLXdWmoKqwx-G4H5pGxThovmMWo5V2gbU6cv9OS_4KaB0fJYmbzk9ZQF8HVYg8Q-kyXsb3YL6ssk2TnnqKRyOo8L_i5rKn4V9-cbjrxm_aW-IMkrt46SPE2TMBPRAmMcQwxudS/s1600/a+blog+13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5R-CgNSLLXdWmoKqwx-G4H5pGxThovmMWo5V2gbU6cv9OS_4KaB0fJYmbzk9ZQF8HVYg8Q-kyXsb3YL6ssk2TnnqKRyOo8L_i5rKn4V9-cbjrxm_aW-IMkrt46SPE2TMBPRAmMcQwxudS/s1600/a+blog+13.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What if our word was <i>smile</i>? Do you think that maybe we’d get more smiles in return? Do
you think that maybe we’d be more relaxed, more joyful, and more likable? Do
you think we’d make better first impressions and be better counselors? Do you
think we might notice the beauty in things and see the good in others if we
smiled more?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilhutFSv1vo_t-uB4Htfp_CLPQhE7bJanhxvuomf2OkAosI7r08-8U2f82-QDIkfZs9wtSf4mM2FnxIM2YbDpPW9nrD2tCfaXE9b2npYhTsv42jv8SD9P3O6vYyJ_hu58qc9a1cMlrOYmL/s1600/a+blog+14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilhutFSv1vo_t-uB4Htfp_CLPQhE7bJanhxvuomf2OkAosI7r08-8U2f82-QDIkfZs9wtSf4mM2FnxIM2YbDpPW9nrD2tCfaXE9b2npYhTsv42jv8SD9P3O6vYyJ_hu58qc9a1cMlrOYmL/s1600/a+blog+14.jpg" height="186" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYxZCe6Ps1IL-8q3hyphenhyphenAMgVCL4EgcF565vE2mDQCEgGFKkD8gXz9pCZRaQeL8hNe2q1OA2MoC2husH1LATGVffgcIrwxf5oSpAvWsK5JlkLBiPp-Y1yinqj02DPqTJgQ5gvs0M-hrdpbuX0/s1600/a+blog+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYxZCe6Ps1IL-8q3hyphenhyphenAMgVCL4EgcF565vE2mDQCEgGFKkD8gXz9pCZRaQeL8hNe2q1OA2MoC2husH1LATGVffgcIrwxf5oSpAvWsK5JlkLBiPp-Y1yinqj02DPqTJgQ5gvs0M-hrdpbuX0/s1600/a+blog+3.jpg" height="200" width="165" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe your word, like mine, could be <i>prayer</i>. I considered so many words, but
in the end, I realized that for this year I might be able to accomplish more if
I just took a minute to settle myself and consider what is important. I can
pray for help to be more joyful and smile more. I can pray to be more
optimistic and less stressed. I can pray for opportunities to help and serve
others. I can pray to grow from my experiences and learn from them and be more
content. I can pray to live in the moment and stop rehashing the past or
worrying about the future. I can pray for help in achieving certain goals or
accomplishing my dreams. I figured that maybe if I took a moment to stop myself
each morning, I might have more peace and joy and love in my life. I might
remember to be thankful for all the blessings I have, and I might be able to
step out of my own selfish world and consider how as a teacher, I can have a
positive impact on the lives of other people.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ1MnENXqtjKPGEuSsd9Gc81B8UpIN7vDOhDdYUuuIxjXE65A0_pL-Fz38plQfLN8t6NFQ_cXOrXPM0NUjHlQoebe5OVVibjj7tp8pUvPVQx8b_hn9vmfGFXq3mCvgbdS6qYJoGbr1TSbi/s1600/a+blog+16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ1MnENXqtjKPGEuSsd9Gc81B8UpIN7vDOhDdYUuuIxjXE65A0_pL-Fz38plQfLN8t6NFQ_cXOrXPM0NUjHlQoebe5OVVibjj7tp8pUvPVQx8b_hn9vmfGFXq3mCvgbdS6qYJoGbr1TSbi/s1600/a+blog+16.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So what will be your word for the year? What do
you need to do better? How can you improve yourself and have a better year? I
challenge you to pick a word for the year and consider it daily. Take note of
the changes, benefits, and impact the word is having on your life. I think it’s
a challenge worth taking. Maybe you can share your word as a comment…and maybe
you can share your word and a similar challenge to others in your life. You
know, everyone wants to change…just very few are willing to take the steps
necessary to actually create the change. That is my challenge to you. Pick a
word, and tomorrow, begin making the changes.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-82706478932655425082014-07-26T08:52:00.000-07:002015-07-14T05:49:26.094-07:00How Authors Can Make More Money<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As an author, do you purchase copies of your own books to
sell in public? You should. When I sold a paperback copy of one of my novels on
Amazon, I received slightly more than a dollar in royalties once I shared with
my publisher...or less than three dollars now that I’m on my own
(self-published). I got 84 cents for an ebook when sharing with my publisher,
and depending on the price I list it for now, I get from 35 cents to about two
dollars per book on my own. I sell my
own books in public for $10.00, which is two or three dollars off the listed
Amazon price, and I make over $5.00 a book. I know there are starving artists
out there who don’t think they can afford to buy copies of their books to sell,
but I don’t think you can afford <i>not</i>
to—because they’re easy to sell. That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it?
That you’ll have boxes of unsold books stored away, and instead of making money
from your books, you’ll be losing it instead. If that’s how you’re feeling,
then you don’t have a plan. Before I give you some ideas, do you realize that
if you bought 20 books to sell, costing approximately $100.00, you could sell
them for $200.00 at a reasonable price of $10.00 per book? Then you could buy
20 more books and never have to worry about losing money again. Once you realize how easy it is to sell them,
you can buy larger quantities and enjoy the profits.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img src="http://selfpublishersnews.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/stack-of-books-money.jpg" height="220" width="320" /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So how do you sell them? Here are some suggestions.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Call local libraries and ask if they have any
events. These are usually free, and though I haven’t had large numbers of sales
while selling at these events (which aren’t generally attended well), I’ve
heard they’ve worked better for other people…and maybe the library will
purchase your book.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Call local bookstores and see if they will let
you set up shop. Sometimes there are town festivals or art walks or other such
events running, and the bookstore will invite you in to sell. Possibly, the
owner will have you in just to try to drum up more customers. They will usually
advertise your appearance. They may take a couple of books on consignment and
sell them in the store. These opportunities are also usually free.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Check the internet for author expos. There are
readers who have a passion for exposing others to books. Colleges have author
expos, sometimes libraries do, some art guilds do, and sometimes other
organizations such as readers’ coalitions organize them. These are generally
quite inexpensive to attend and may also be free.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Get the word out that you’re looking for book
clubs or writers’ groups. Volunteer to make an appearance and speak. Some
groups pay to have speakers, and some just provide lunch or snacks and drinks.
I’ve spoken to several groups that have purchased books at the end. Sales at my
speaking events have been very good, and the more people, obviously, the
better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">5.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Town festivals. Nearly all small towns and all
larger towns have downtown events. People are wandering everywhere. They may
not be looking for books, but if you’re willing to strike up a conversation,
you’d be surprised at how many readers there are that are impressed to meet an
actual author. And other kind-hearted people simply like to support local
authors. These events are also generally quite inexpensive to sell at.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">6.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Look up farmer’s markets and flea markets. If
they aren’t advertised on line, try the local Chamber of Commerce or the City
Hall for information. For somewhere between five and twenty dollars, in my
experience, I set up a booth or a table under a canopy and sell a lot of books.
People come to markets with cash in hand, fully expecting to spend money.
Having an author in attendance is a curiosity. At a market, people are
friendly. They stop and chat. They like a free piece of candy or a bookmark,
and they’re all curious about the guy or gal that isn’t selling produce. If the
weather cooperates, I’ve had lots of luck at the farm markets. I also tend to
buy a lot of fresh veggies, so be prepared to spend some of your profits. Hey,
it’s for your own health. The only flea market I sold at went pretty well; plus
I learned that next time I’ll bring other things to sell too, since it turned
out to be basically a huge garage sale. Maybe there’s a good flea market near
you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">7.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Craft shows have been very good to me. Now we’re
getting to the especially good events. These, in my experience, can be very
inexpensive (10 to 20 dollars) or they can be expensive (like 75 to 150
dollars). I’ve sold over 50 books at craft shows numerous times. They are
usually indoors, so weather isn’t a concern, and sharing a table is always a
possibility. Do you know another author to split the fee with, or a crafter
that will share his or her table? That’s a way to reduce the cost. Shoppers
come with money to spend, and they generally spend it. Remember, lots of people
love books. Plus I have an easier time not spending my profits on crafts than
not buying those delicious fresh vegetables.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">8.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Art in the park events are easy to find on line,
and there are generally very few authors at those events, so often, they’re
very profitable. They can also be expensive. I prefer sharing a booth with one
of two author friends that I’ve made. Both Stacey Rourke and Julie Cassar
(check out their books because they sell like hotcakes) are very outgoing and
personable, and our books are different enough that we don’t invade on each
other’s audiences, but when a few people stop, crowds begin to gather.
Literature is art. Once shoppers realize this obvious truth, they also realize
that your art is less expensive than everyone else’s. At least that’s my theory
on why I’ve been so successful at these events. That and my smile and friendly personality. </span><img src="https://fbcdn-dragon-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xpa1/t39.1997-6/p34x34/851582_129190340599096_566538855_n.png" /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p><img height="400" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-g-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xpa1/v/t1.0-9/547068_3702435203810_1778479235_n.jpg?oh=990f188771658dfc03bf595e8e400d08&oe=543B3A65&__gda__=1414575701_5e2161a663d8b5ffecdadaaf6d5555f8" width="383" /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I’ve come back from events and my wife will ask me how many
books I sold. I’ll sigh sometimes and say, “Only fifteen” or I’ll say, “I sold
twenty-eight, but I sold thirty-five last year at the same event.” She’ll say,
“How many did you sell on line today?” And my spirits will brighten.
Interacting with people, hearing words of encouragement, creating smiles,
making connections and getting invitations to other events—these are things
that happen out in public, and I believe more authors need to take the
initiative to step out and market their books in a way that happens to be fun
and also works. I encourage all indie authors to locate some events and make
some phone calls. Get your book into the hands of some readers. You’ll wonder
why you weren’t doing it before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Jeff LaFerney is the author of <i>Loving the Rain, Skeleton
Key, Bulletproof</i>, <i>Jumper, and Lost and Found</i>. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Jeff+LaFerney">http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Jeff+LaFerney</a> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/jeff-laferney?keyword=jeff+laferney&store=book"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/jeff-laferney?keyword=jeff+laferney&store=book</span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6495891438053844318.post-71067374610656589792014-07-18T07:42:00.000-07:002014-11-01T10:41:40.040-07:00Up and Down<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLhf8lk_Wy_mrEqqU5RFdkvvyXIopOGBPQtgmcBXrLrAeKBoamX7lKjkfyL2isht248KpSPmG9-i360NxsLh5ONTsiJu-xrIp66XA8zoYKDI3ad8kafo-ItJ6xJaMnAtsCrvpvwgTcA2lH/s1600/a+blog+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLhf8lk_Wy_mrEqqU5RFdkvvyXIopOGBPQtgmcBXrLrAeKBoamX7lKjkfyL2isht248KpSPmG9-i360NxsLh5ONTsiJu-xrIp66XA8zoYKDI3ad8kafo-ItJ6xJaMnAtsCrvpvwgTcA2lH/s1600/a+blog+7.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m
an English teacher and an author, and I sometimes wonder how anyone can learn
English as a second language. Throwing out the languages that require us to
learn a different alphabet, is there a more difficult language than English? Take
our idioms, for instance—of which there are too many to count. At the drop of a
hat? Beat around the bush? Barking up the wrong tree? A chip on your shoulder? Costs
an arm and a leg? Can’t cut the mustard? Hit the hay? Jump on the bandwagon? Let
the cat out of the bag? Off your rocker? On the ball? Piece of cake? Put all
your eggs in one basket? Steal your thunder? Straight from the horse’s mouth? Take
it with a grain of salt? The whole nine yards? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But
those are idioms, which are figures of speech. We know they mean something
figurative, so inherently we understand there is more to the phrase than the literal
meanings to the words. But how does a new English speaker discern what the
words <i>up </i>and <i>down</i> could possibly mean? I looked up the words (though I didn’t
bother to write down the definitions). <i>Down</i>
had seven adverb definitions while <i>up </i>had
ten. I don’t think it’s enough, personally. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In
class, sometimes I hear myself say, “Quiet down and listen up.” I give
directions and the kids are mixed up. On multiple choice questions, sometimes
the answer is a toss up. I have to crack down on discipline, call down to the
office, speak up to be heard, dress up for work, calm down the rowdy kids who
are acting up, follow up with a phone call to parents of kids who won't shut up,
jazz up the lesson, wait for kids to settle down, turn down requests, lock up the
room, sweep up the floor, and build up students' confidence. I have to round up missing
work, shut down my computer, scale down a lesson, simmer down when I might be
getting worked up, ease up when I’m getting fed up, mix up the activities before
time’s up, and avoid getting tied up in politics.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What
if I had a beat-up car that was a lemon (idiom)? I mean my car could break down
and need a tune up. In order to get it fixed up, a grown-up service man would
have to take a close-up look and size up and pin down the problems. He would
hook up his computer before he writes up an invoice that breaks down the
problems with my messed-up car. He might round up some guys, jack up the car, strip
down the engine, break down the carburetor, clamp down some hoses, and make up
some problems that don’t exist. Since all <i>I</i>
can do is stare down a broken engine, gas up my tank, pump up my tires, and pay
up my bills, I can just hope he doesn’t cook up some unnecessary costs and
shake me down to cough up some money I shouldn’t have to spend. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What
if I was trying to shape up at the gym with a personal trainer? He might tell
me to man up and pick up the pace. He might try to wear me down to break down
muscles. For me, he might have to scale down a workout he worked up or maybe he’ll
ease up on me and back down when I feel like throwing up. Maybe he’ll crack
down on me for eating up all the household chocolate. Maybe two trainers could
gang up on me and stare me down until I can measure up. Maybe they’ll follow up
by telling me to suck it up until I cramp up and need a rub down. When it’s all
over, I can settle down, cheer up, strip down, shower up, mop up the floor
after I’ve washed up, dress up in my pajamas, turn down the sheets, and wind
down by opening up a book to catch up on my favorite characters. I can settle
down until it’s time to shut down the lights, which is hands down the best part
of the day. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Okay,
so we use the words for uncountable reasons, which is difficult enough to
understand, but we use <i>up</i> and <i>down</i> with the SAME words. How confusing
is that? We touch down an airplane and touch up paint. We settle down
emotionally and settle up a bet. We turn down an offer and turn up the
pressure. We pay down the loan and pay up on a bill. We write down a blog post,
and when we’re done, we have a write up. We crack down on criminals and crack
up laughing. We bring down the mafia and bring up a problem. We wash down the
dog, and when we’re done, he’s been washed up. We talk down a jumper and talk
up our foolish ideas. We screw down a screw and screw up the project. We can
drive down or drive up a road, mop down a floor or mop it up, be told to slow
down or slow up, be tied down or tied up, soap down and soap up, lock down and
lock up, pin down or pin up, and back down or back up. After a beat down, we’re
beat up; or after a throw down, we can throw up. We can shoot down an idea and
shoot up drugs. We can knock down a wall and knock up our wives. We can take
down an empire and take up knitting. We brush down a horse, and when we’re
done, it’s brushed up. We can break down an idea and break up with our
girlfriend. Is it time to close down or close up? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It
all seems so confusing to me with so many meanings for two such simple words. I
was thinking, if you enjoyed my mental melt down, maybe you could print up my
blog, pick it up from the printer, hold it up or hang it up or stick it up on the
refrigerator or pin it up on the wall. Or turn down my suggestion and wad it up
or tear it up. By now, you probably don’t know if you’re coming down or going
up, yet more than 15% of the words used in this mixed-up article are <i>up </i>and <i>down. </i>Do we as English speakers really know what those two little
words mean?</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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The Red Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17592028875791966803noreply@blogger.com0