Random observation

I was at the train station in downtown Chicago last week: Ogilvie Transportation for those who need to know. It's a nice train station. About 15 tracks, I think. Trains traveling to and fro the city's suburbs, bringing mostly working folks to the city in the morning. Evidence, perhaps, that the Metra ads to encourage people to take public transportation actually work.

There are ads everywhere. I've seen ads in the shuttle at the airport, so it stands to reason there would be ads in the train station. Designed for commuters and those who are trying to save time and/or money and maybe even help the environment by not driving.

So why, pray tell, were these the ads that greeted passengers as they disembarked from their trains?

Nothing against either company.

Just curious.

Tips on tips for writing well, or at least not badly

I'm always on the lookout for strategies, suggestions, helpful hints for writers. Naturally I was intrigued by the come-hither title "7 words guaranteed to make you a better writer."

There are, alas, no "Aha!" moments in this article. There are, however, in the first paragraph, a couple of grammar errors and I can't tell if he's trying to make a point by being funny or if he just doesn't know. If it's the former, sound the gong because the joke didn't work. If it's the latter, well, just join me in a deep sigh.

The first full paragraph (I'm not counting the spoiler alert which really isn't a spoiler alert) reads thusly:

I just published a 175-page book called How to Not Write Bad. It will set you back $15, plus tax. But I am here to tell you that if you master just seven words, you will not only not write bad: you'll write good, er, well. (And in fact, there are only six words; one of them is repeated.)

The book is to tell readers how to do something. I'll overlook the split infinitive, but I'm troubled by the absence of the adverb. I believe the title of the book should be How Not to Write Badly. But you see how he might be trying to be clever, or get someone to pick up the book just to try to prove him wrong. Or something. But not for 15 bucks. Plus tax. Then there is the double negative in the third sentence which also does not sport an adverb where one should be even though he makes a passing attempt at grammar humor with the self-correction to an adverb. How are you writing? You are writing well or you are writing badly.

The tips.
Yes, read. Read whatever you can whenever you can. In this Mr. Yagoda is correct as you will discover styles of writing that pique your interest, that help you think differently about a purpose or an audience. That will help you further develop your style for your audience(s).

Read it aloud. I gave this very advice to my college freshmen and speak of it in every writing workshop I do. Ideally, have someone who doesn't know your voice read it aloud. Those folks will read it as they see it and hear it; they will read it based on your words and your operational signposts--transitions, punctuation, paragraphing.

Show, don't tell. True; always true. What I think this means is any writer needs to be thinking about his audience and the kind of details and information that audience wants and needs. What style of writing will tap that reader's sweet spot just right and encourage her to settle in her chair to read without distraction? What type of detail and style of writing will hook that reader so he wants to keep reading every next word?

I'll interject here that that was one of the best compliments I ever got: one of my doctoral professors actually wrote that he was "compelled to read every next word." Now that is a good writing experience because, in my view, it was a good reading experience.

Write on!

Some good days, some "meh"

Yesterday was an "interesting" day. Yep, the dreaded double quotes so you know that "interesting" has a particularly peculiar connotation.

A meeting in the morning had the potential of going badly and ending quickly, but things turned around. The customer thawed out and welcomed some of our suggestions. A satisfactory meeting was followed by a delicious lunch at Arizona's. Amazing mushroom and artichoke soup.

The flight home was fine. Uneventful. That's good for a flight. Boarding just before me was a woman who seemed to speak no English and had to gate check her bag. Another passenger and I made sure it got tagged so she could retrieve it, a process with which she was obviously unfamiliar. As we deplaned and lined up near the Baggage Buddy (I'm serious; if you've flown American, you know what I'm talking about), she was panicking and recognized me. She had a flight to Madrid with no gate information. We had to wait for the Baggage Buddy so I trudged up the jet bridge to talk to a surly gate agent who shrugged and said there should be someone in the jet bridge to help her. I trudged back down and got the reverse message. Blech. "I'm an experienced traveler, I thought," I can help her with this.

I spoke soothingly to her knowing she understood not one word. We got her bag, mine was right after hers. I walked up with her and, by then, Ms. Surly had colleagues and I managed to get gate information. We checked times and I nodded. "Vamonos" I said to my Madrid-bound friend and we walked quickly. I kept trying to assure we had time, which we did.

Of course her gate was the very last gate at the end of the corridor. I could have told her the number as I'd been practicing saying "diecinueve" as we walked, but she still seemed panicked. And O'Hare can be overwhelming. 

So I delivered her to her gate, pointed to the board where it said Madrid, and gave her a big hug. She cried and smiled and thanked me over and over and over again. She made me cry. We hugged again. I made sure she got in the right line, she turned and waved, I waved, and off I went. A long walk back to get my suitcase and my ride home.

As I stood outside in the chill of the early evening, a woman stepped near me, her small, shivering dog in her arms. She fumbled with her phone and a piece of paper, the dog a hindrance. I reached out to help but she politely thanked me and said she could do it. A few minutes later she asked for help, her hands shaking. She said she'd gotten off the plane and there was a message for her from the police department.

"Uh oh," says I, "never a good thing," says I, with remarkable insight.

"Yea," she kind of grimaced. "I just learned my cat died." Well, I thought that's what she said, but then she said, mumbled, a few things after that which made no sense if her cat died and why would the police call to tell her that her cat died? I didn't want to ask for clarification of her tragedy; she didn't seem distraught--no tears, no sadness-she seemed frazzled.

Anyway, I helped her make the call. My ride arrived. I mumbled some platitude I hoped would be appropriate and moved to get in the car.

She thanked me profusely.

That was yesterday. I hope the woman made it safely to Madrid. I wish I'd given her my card so someone could have emailed me to let me know she arrived safely, but I'm fairly confident she didn't get lost between the boarding line and the plane itself. I hope the woman who had some sort of a situation that required police intervention is okay.

For me, it wasn't really a "feel good" day in the warm and fuzzy sense. But it was a good day because I know, by virtue of being kind and considerate, I helped two other people.

Pay it forward.