This Was The Week in Words

Happy Friday everyone! Hope we make it through the weekend, what with the crazy 'Supermoon' that we're supposed to get tomorrow. Really, I think we've all had enough natural disasters for one week, but more on that in a sec.

This week in words, The Washington Post apologized and suspended its Pulitzer prize-winning journalist Sari Horwitz for plagiarizing stories from the Arizona Republic. Horwitz also issued her own apology. Sorry, lady. Deadlines are no excuse for stealing other people's words.  Meanwhile, over at The New York Times, the newspaper finally unveiled plans for its online paywall. It sounds overly-complicated, but Gawker's Hamilton Nolan sums it up nicely:

"For those of you inclined to bitch about paying to read NYT stories online: stop bitching. The fact is the paper needs the money. All papers need the money. In retrospect, it was a strategic mistake for newspapers to put their content online for free. Charging for online access is the way of the future. Get used to it. If you're going to pay to read journalism on the internet, you might as well pay for good journalism."

But the week's biggest words-related controversy came from comedian Gilbert Gottfried, who tweeted when he should have kept his quack shut. Gottfried was fired from his gig as the voice of the Aflac duck after posting a slew of really tasteless jokes on his Twitter feed about the earthquake and tsunami in Japan over the weekend. He has since apologized, and removed the jokes from his Twitter feed. But they're everywhere. Nothing really dies on the Internet. (Sari Horwitz, are you paying attention?) It turns out that Aflac insures a substantial number of properties in the disaster zone. Gottfried -- whose entire act is based on tasteless jokes, that's his thing -- was not the only one to say insensitive things (Rush Limbaugh, 50 Cent, we're looking at you), he's just the only one to have lost work over it. Honestly, I think Limbaugh's comments were far worse... because he was being completely serious. An actor who lost his gig as a Geico spokesperson after criticizing the Tea Party had an interesting take on the situation. 

The sex jokes, in particular, were baaad. But I'll I'll admit, I laughed at a couple of Gottfried's other jokes. (Personal favorite: "What do Japanese Jews like to eat? Hebrew National Tsunami.") That's a great bit of word play, and would be funny -- if hundreds of thousands of people had not just died or had their lives destroyed by an earthquake, a tsunami and now, multiple nuclear reactor meltdowns!! The torrent of news has been oh-so-heartbreakingly sad and terrifying. It would be nice to find something funny in it. Since there's not much, I'll take that silly Hebrew National Tsunami punchline. And then I'll take a cue from the Geico guy. Instead of tweeting jokes, or telling everyone how very-very-outraged I am, I'll do something more productive, like text 90999 to the American Red Cross to donate $10 to the relief effort, or make another donation to reputable agencies that are helping. Hope you will too.

Finally, tomorrow is also the Jewish celebration of Purim, which, from what I understand, is a lot like Mardi Gras, but without the beads and boobs. So enjoy life this weekend. Hug your kids (I'll be hugging mine.) Between the radiation clouds, California falling into the ocean and that crazy, crazy moon, we might not even make it to Monday.

The Feedback Loop

Last week, Salon posted a good Q&A with comedian Michael Showalter about his new memoir, "Mr. Funnypants." One quote of his, in particular, jumped out at me...

"I didn't perform any of it (his book's comedy material) in front of an audience, which is one of the more interesting and terrifying things about writing a book. You really have no idea whether or not what you're writing is funny. In stand-up and sketch comedy, you know right away and you can make your changes accordingly."

I smiled the first time I read that, because I can relate -- especially now that I've made the conscious decision to write more humor. It's a frustrating thing writing the funny for print. You have no way of knowing for certain if what you're writing is getting the laugh until it's read or published. I often crave that immediate feedback. When you can tell a joke or perform a sketch, if the intended gag is met with audience silence, that will usually tell you everything you need to know.

Every writer -- regardless of their experience, or what they're writing -- carries a tiny bit of anxiety, questioning, "Is what I'm writing going to get the reaction I want?"

• Will my memo convince the boss to start production on my product?
• Will my legal brief sway the judge?
• Will readers get turned on by my steamy romance story?
• Will my headline generate page views on the website?
• Will the studio buy my screenplay?

That's why it's so important to seek out -- and listen to -- feedback on your work. The "seeking out" is relatively easy: go to writing classes and workshops, open mike (mic?) nights, track the web hits counter, track your book sales, watch your Facebook friends hit the "Like" button, ask a colleague, seek out the advice of a mentor.

Experienced writers can get in their own way, tuning out help because they think they know what they’re doing – even when they don’t. New writers, because they lack confidence, tend to "over-listen." Regardless of where the feedback is coming from, they make every change suggested, and question their own instincts. They don’t stop to ask, "What is this person's motivation?" Sometimes, you have to consider that the person giving feedback has his or her own agenda.

This happened to me early in my career. For a (thankfully) short time, I wrote for a newspaper where one of the editors actually had the balls to circulate a memo that showed examples of how to not write stories. Every single ‘don’t write like this’ example quoted from stories with my byline.

Still relatively new and unsure of myself (despite a couple of years and awards already under my belt), I felt humiliated and took it to heart, because this guy was an editor with more experience. It wasn’t until later that it occurred to me:

• The stories were all good enough to publish in the first place.
• None of my other editors had complained before (or since).
• I never asked for his opinion. No one did.
• His memo did not offer constructive criticism -- helpful suggestions that would be instructive to everyone who saw it for how to make our writing better.
• He may have been purposely sabotaging me, trying to push me out of the job.

 While at the time, I was floored (and – surprise, surprise – quit very soon after) I eventually came to realize that this guy, even though he was an editor and had more experience than me, was your basic, run-of-the-mill d-bag asshole. He had his own agenda for telling me and everyone in the office I didn’t know what I was doing. Helpful instruction was not part of that agenda. This was feedback that could be rejected.

Now, this is the exception, I believe, not the rule. Most often, if you ask for, or are offered, feedback -- especially from other writers – people genuinely want to do right by you. But sometimes the feedback is misguided. Occasionally, it can be damaging. It takes experience to learn how to sort through it all. This is by no means complete, but here is a list of questions to ask yourself to help tell the difference.

Advice from a Do-Write, or a D-Bag?

• Why is this person giving the advice? Did I ask, or was it offered?
• Does this person have expertise in your area of writing?
• Is this person giving you their honest, fair assessment?
• Does the feedback talk to you in terms of what works and what doesn't in your writing? (As opposed to what is "good" or "bad" about your writing. "Good" and "bad" are subjective. What "works" is something that can be quantified and/or explained.)
• Is the person asking questions about what you were trying to accomplish?
• What's in it for this person if he/she is offering to help me?
• Is this person only focused on what they didn't like, or what was "wrong" with the writing? Can he/she point to what you wrote that was right.

I'd love to hear about how others get feedback, and when you can tell if that feedback is good. Post in the comments.

Referenced link: Salon: Michael Showalter interview