Changing from academic writing, as I wrote last week, involved picking the best, the most interesting parts of experiences, places, etc. and bringing them to the front. I've had to learn to turn amorphous experiences into stories, especially in the case of travel writing.
Another big part of changing my writing has been to carry out the similar changes at the level of sentence structure. In academic writing and writing for my classes, I was accustomed to writing long, Thoreau-esque sentences. Perhaps I think in longer sentences; whatever the reason, it's been hard to streamline my sentences.
I remember being slightly disappointed in my first and only journalism class, back at East Lansing High School, where I learned that newspaper writing was basic, to-the-point, no frills, or, in other words, aimed at a third grader. Of course, not all newspaper writing is like this. Students studying for the vocab portions of the GRE are often encouraged to read The New York Times.
Yet the majority of writing is meant to be simple and understandable. And it's not necessarily a bad thing. A major goal of a newswriter should be to communicate information effectively and clearly.
Even after paying attention to this problem with my writing, the second piece of feedback I got from the editor who looked over my first story draft told me clearly: you need to cut down on the long sentences. They're confusing.
So I've been trying to limit the number of dependent clauses and make sure my dog could follow my work. At least my audience is widening.
2008年11月27日星期四
2008年11月17日星期一
Reforming my Writing, Part 1
As I've mentioned, writing for magazines and newspapers is different from writing academic papers. In the process of writing for magazine and newspapers, I've had to make two large changes to my style of writing. Part one:
Academic papers emphasize analysis, accuracy, and completeness. That is, academic papers are supposed to analyze all the aspects of arguments, qualify statements, avoid conclusions without a clear demonstration of evidence, and raise possible questions and concerns.
I was used to doing this at the University of Michigan in classes for paper and in the psychology research papers I wrote. The problem is that this doesn't make for captivating and efficient reading. Academic writing is comprehensive, but it can also be a waste of time. Academic writing requires you to consider alternative hypotheses and explanations, most of which are unlikely. People reading newspapers and magazines don't have the time or patience for such detail.
Thus, one of the most important skills of writing for magazines and newspapers is to pull out the most important threads and take-home points of a story, a trip, or a location, and come up with the most interesting conclusion about it.
My first encounter with the importance of focus was when I wanted to write up a trip I took to Emei Shan, a sacred Buddhist mountain in Sichuan province. My trip was really interesting--a true adventure--and there were a lot of things I wanted to touch upon in the article: the amazing peak of the mountain, with large stupas shrouded in clouds so high people would get light headed; the history, where in the past monks jumped to their deaths from the cliff because they believed they could see the Buddha's image in the light reflecting in the mist enveloping the peak; the wooden temples on the way that hikers could stay in; and the monkeys that help make the mountain famous that have now developed their thuggery into true mafia-esque extortion.
I wrote the article with a lot of the elements in it, and the first correction I got back from a friend of my sister who works in journalism was that I had "buried the lead." In other words, I failed to dig through the experience for the most important element and push it in the front. That is, the most fascinating element was the monkey thuggery (especially since I could write a lot more about that than the peak-top activities), and I had failed to put it in the first paragraphs.
Journalistic writing is not about subtlety and patience; it's about being punchy and to-the-point, doing the work for the reader. It's been hard to change this. It felt (and still feels) a bit phony and reductionistic. It doesn't feel as true to my experience to pick out the most interesting portions and describe them in the most exciting way possible. I still struggle with this question, but I've also come to see that highlighting certain parts is not necessarily misleading.
Constantly trying to pick out a theme and an important thread (i.e., a way to pitch) has changed the way I perceive the world, especially in travel writing. I now start to see things in terms of "that's a story" or "I might be able to learn more about that and make it a story."
I remember reading several autobiographical essays and books by normal individuals and then one day realizing that my experiences were no more special than theirs. Instead, the difference lay in these writer's abilities to pick out the important elements of their experiences and communicate them effectively and entertainingly in words. That's all. Same thing, different eyes (and perhaps pen).
Writing--freelance writing in particular, where you get a large say in what you want to write, rather than being on, say, the business beat--involves just as much a change of eye prescription as much as it does learning how to write. And with this change in what you're looking for, changes in writing come naturally.
Academic papers emphasize analysis, accuracy, and completeness. That is, academic papers are supposed to analyze all the aspects of arguments, qualify statements, avoid conclusions without a clear demonstration of evidence, and raise possible questions and concerns.
I was used to doing this at the University of Michigan in classes for paper and in the psychology research papers I wrote. The problem is that this doesn't make for captivating and efficient reading. Academic writing is comprehensive, but it can also be a waste of time. Academic writing requires you to consider alternative hypotheses and explanations, most of which are unlikely. People reading newspapers and magazines don't have the time or patience for such detail.
Thus, one of the most important skills of writing for magazines and newspapers is to pull out the most important threads and take-home points of a story, a trip, or a location, and come up with the most interesting conclusion about it.
My first encounter with the importance of focus was when I wanted to write up a trip I took to Emei Shan, a sacred Buddhist mountain in Sichuan province. My trip was really interesting--a true adventure--and there were a lot of things I wanted to touch upon in the article: the amazing peak of the mountain, with large stupas shrouded in clouds so high people would get light headed; the history, where in the past monks jumped to their deaths from the cliff because they believed they could see the Buddha's image in the light reflecting in the mist enveloping the peak; the wooden temples on the way that hikers could stay in; and the monkeys that help make the mountain famous that have now developed their thuggery into true mafia-esque extortion.
I wrote the article with a lot of the elements in it, and the first correction I got back from a friend of my sister who works in journalism was that I had "buried the lead." In other words, I failed to dig through the experience for the most important element and push it in the front. That is, the most fascinating element was the monkey thuggery (especially since I could write a lot more about that than the peak-top activities), and I had failed to put it in the first paragraphs.
Journalistic writing is not about subtlety and patience; it's about being punchy and to-the-point, doing the work for the reader. It's been hard to change this. It felt (and still feels) a bit phony and reductionistic. It doesn't feel as true to my experience to pick out the most interesting portions and describe them in the most exciting way possible. I still struggle with this question, but I've also come to see that highlighting certain parts is not necessarily misleading.
Constantly trying to pick out a theme and an important thread (i.e., a way to pitch) has changed the way I perceive the world, especially in travel writing. I now start to see things in terms of "that's a story" or "I might be able to learn more about that and make it a story."
I remember reading several autobiographical essays and books by normal individuals and then one day realizing that my experiences were no more special than theirs. Instead, the difference lay in these writer's abilities to pick out the important elements of their experiences and communicate them effectively and entertainingly in words. That's all. Same thing, different eyes (and perhaps pen).
Writing--freelance writing in particular, where you get a large say in what you want to write, rather than being on, say, the business beat--involves just as much a change of eye prescription as much as it does learning how to write. And with this change in what you're looking for, changes in writing come naturally.
2008年11月5日星期三
Pitching: Specifics and Travel Pitching
Besides pitching style (below) and introductions, there are other details I had to learn about pitching.
First, there are two types of pitches:
(1) There's the as-is pitch, where you've already written an article and you include it as an attachment that you're pitching more or less as is.
(2) There's the big-britches gamble pitch, where, having written exactly jack squat, you pitch an idea for an article that you'd like to write, if they're willing to accept it.
The upside of a big-britches pitch is that you don't waste your time drafting an article that will never get published. If editors don't like it, you just don't write it.
The downside is that it's tempting to pitch articles that you think are interesting, but, when an editor bites, you actually have to write it. Thus, it's important that you're certain you can actually write the article you're selling. You need to know where to research it, where to go to find someone to talk to, and the extent of the information that you are capable of digging up about the topic. If you can't write it; don't pitch it.
Big britches pitches involve a bit of a hoodwink; an ideal pitch makes you sound like you know a lot more about the topic than you really do.
When I was getting started, all of my pitches were of the first kind. I got started in travel writing so I would write up a destination I had been to and pitch a trio of articles to publications I thought would be interested.
Nowadays, I most of my pitches are big-britches pitches.
Now I'm convinced that the important divide between big-britches pitches and as-is pitches is whether it's a travel or news/feature article. Travel articles are the only pitches that should be as-is. Travel articles aren't often taken as idea pitches and, unless you're well established, publications aren't going to sponsor your travel, so it doesn't help to pitch in advance. Furthermore, it's hard to know in advance that a particular destination is worthy of an article, so you don't want to trap yourself into writing about a destination if that destination turns out to be a dud.
It's important to note whether you will include pictures or not. Pictures are helpful, if not absolutely necessary for most travel pitches. Also, I like to lay may stories out using Apple's iWeb application, which lets me lay out text, pictures, and captions and convert it into a PDF. As a PDF with pictures and a semi-finished format, the article looks more professional.
First, there are two types of pitches:
(1) There's the as-is pitch, where you've already written an article and you include it as an attachment that you're pitching more or less as is.
(2) There's the big-britches gamble pitch, where, having written exactly jack squat, you pitch an idea for an article that you'd like to write, if they're willing to accept it.
The upside of a big-britches pitch is that you don't waste your time drafting an article that will never get published. If editors don't like it, you just don't write it.
The downside is that it's tempting to pitch articles that you think are interesting, but, when an editor bites, you actually have to write it. Thus, it's important that you're certain you can actually write the article you're selling. You need to know where to research it, where to go to find someone to talk to, and the extent of the information that you are capable of digging up about the topic. If you can't write it; don't pitch it.
Big britches pitches involve a bit of a hoodwink; an ideal pitch makes you sound like you know a lot more about the topic than you really do.
When I was getting started, all of my pitches were of the first kind. I got started in travel writing so I would write up a destination I had been to and pitch a trio of articles to publications I thought would be interested.
Nowadays, I most of my pitches are big-britches pitches.
Now I'm convinced that the important divide between big-britches pitches and as-is pitches is whether it's a travel or news/feature article. Travel articles are the only pitches that should be as-is. Travel articles aren't often taken as idea pitches and, unless you're well established, publications aren't going to sponsor your travel, so it doesn't help to pitch in advance. Furthermore, it's hard to know in advance that a particular destination is worthy of an article, so you don't want to trap yourself into writing about a destination if that destination turns out to be a dud.
It's important to note whether you will include pictures or not. Pictures are helpful, if not absolutely necessary for most travel pitches. Also, I like to lay may stories out using Apple's iWeb application, which lets me lay out text, pictures, and captions and convert it into a PDF. As a PDF with pictures and a semi-finished format, the article looks more professional.
Pitching Stories
Looking back at the first emails I sent out pitching stories to editors, I shudder with embarrassment. My first pitches read like a middle schooler's letter to a senator--not the way to impress an editor.
"Dear Editor,
I am a graduate of the University now serving on a Princeton in Asia fellowship teaching English in Guangzhou. I'm from . . ."
Wrong.
Editors are on par with God in terms of being overworked and having an inflated sense of self-importance. Thus, emails with wordy openings like mine wind up in the trash.
As a part of being incredibly bust, editors care only about ideas; they couldn't care less about your resume. In the world of writing, ideas and "clips" (articles previously published) are the standard currency.
No one cares where you graduated from. Most editors (perhaps all) have no clue that I went to Michigan. Instead, what they look at is the power, the catchiness of your ideas and whether or not they fit with what the magazine needs.
Second, knowing that you have experience writing is important. A sentence referencing where you've published goes a lot farther than a sentence describing your Boy Scout rank and GPA. Starting out, this is a problem, but calling yourself a freelancer will work. Additionally, publishing editorials in your hometown's newspaper is an easy way of getting published fast (without being paid, of course).
Nowadays, my cold-call introduction is one sentence long and it consists of (1) I am a freelancer (2) based in Beijing and (3) I speak Chinese. This way's easier for me and works better with editors.
Finally, editors want story pitches to be punchy. A huge difference between writing for class and writing for publications is punchiness. At UM, I got used to writing in detail, splitting hairs, and qualifying arguments. In freelancing, I've had to learn to pare down my writing and pitches to jazz up the details, pick out the most important, interesting, or take-away point and bring it to the front.
This takes judgment on your part. A trip of mine up Emei Mountain was full of adventure--bunking in a monastery; altitude sickness; violent, thieving monkeys--but in pitching it to an editor, I had to choose the most interesting point (the monkey gauntlet) and pitch the stories as if the entire trip had been about the monkeys. Of course, the article itself has room for other details, but, without a focus and a story thread, the article becomes boring.
Thus, pitches should be two or three sentences long, dressing up the exciting point of the article. At the end, a sentence explaining why it is a good fit for the particular outlet can help too.
Perfecting the art of pitching can take time and effort, but the upshot is that with enough work in the beginning, you won't need to pitch later--editors will start finding you.
"Dear Editor,
I am a graduate of the University now serving on a Princeton in Asia fellowship teaching English in Guangzhou. I'm from . . ."
Wrong.
Editors are on par with God in terms of being overworked and having an inflated sense of self-importance. Thus, emails with wordy openings like mine wind up in the trash.
As a part of being incredibly bust, editors care only about ideas; they couldn't care less about your resume. In the world of writing, ideas and "clips" (articles previously published) are the standard currency.
No one cares where you graduated from. Most editors (perhaps all) have no clue that I went to Michigan. Instead, what they look at is the power, the catchiness of your ideas and whether or not they fit with what the magazine needs.
Second, knowing that you have experience writing is important. A sentence referencing where you've published goes a lot farther than a sentence describing your Boy Scout rank and GPA. Starting out, this is a problem, but calling yourself a freelancer will work. Additionally, publishing editorials in your hometown's newspaper is an easy way of getting published fast (without being paid, of course).
Nowadays, my cold-call introduction is one sentence long and it consists of (1) I am a freelancer (2) based in Beijing and (3) I speak Chinese. This way's easier for me and works better with editors.
Finally, editors want story pitches to be punchy. A huge difference between writing for class and writing for publications is punchiness. At UM, I got used to writing in detail, splitting hairs, and qualifying arguments. In freelancing, I've had to learn to pare down my writing and pitches to jazz up the details, pick out the most important, interesting, or take-away point and bring it to the front.
This takes judgment on your part. A trip of mine up Emei Mountain was full of adventure--bunking in a monastery; altitude sickness; violent, thieving monkeys--but in pitching it to an editor, I had to choose the most interesting point (the monkey gauntlet) and pitch the stories as if the entire trip had been about the monkeys. Of course, the article itself has room for other details, but, without a focus and a story thread, the article becomes boring.
Thus, pitches should be two or three sentences long, dressing up the exciting point of the article. At the end, a sentence explaining why it is a good fit for the particular outlet can help too.
Perfecting the art of pitching can take time and effort, but the upshot is that with enough work in the beginning, you won't need to pitch later--editors will start finding you.
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