Please Hold

Thought for the day: If it weren't for electricity, we'd all be watching television by candlelight. [George Gobel]

[image courtesy of morguefile]

And if it weren't for telephones, I reckon we'd all be sending smoke signals.

To tell the truth, I had no idea what I was gonna write about for today's post. Oh, I had a few nebulous ideas, but nothing that stirred much enthusiasm in me.

Then Monday happened, and serendipity struck.

When I went to my ophthamologist last week, she prescribed another eyedrop to add to my daily regimen, and told me to come back in a month to have the pressure remeasured.The staff kindly made a return appointment for me, and I went on my merry way.
That afternoon, Smarticus' next surgery was scheduled, and you guessed it... it fell on the same day as that aforementioned appointment.

No problem, right? I simply went online and canceled the appointment, and figured I'd make a call to the (ugh!) appointment center on Monday to reschedule.

OY! Big problem! First, after dutifully entering all the required information into the automated system, the robo-voice told me all lines were busy, and there'd be a wait of anywhere between 56 minutes and an hour and 23 minutes... (Where do they come up with arbitrary numbers???) so did I want someone to call me back. To sweeten the offer, I was assured that I "wouldn't lose my place in line." A no-brainer, right? So I left the required information, and about two hours later, give or take, I got that promised call-back. Cool, huh?

Nope. Not cool. An automated voice once again informed me that all lines were busy, but the next available assistant would take my call. (Why, why, WHY did they call me back, if they were only going to put me on HOLD again?) Silly naive me thought it'd only be a short wait. After all, I was next in line, right?

I gave up after waiting for more than an hour, and I've gotta tell ya, it gave me enormous pleasure to slam my phone receiver back into its cradle. (One of the pleasures of owning a landline. Also... I have NEVER accidentally dropped my phone into the toilet or run it through the washing machine. Just saying...)

Then I took the phone off the hook. Phooey on 'em! I had stuff to do, dammit!

And I was MAD! SOOOOO mad, I wanted to punch the wall and scream. So natch, I did what any other perfectly normal weird irate writer would do... I wrote a silly poem that evening:

'Tis a sad and tragic story,
But one that must be told,
About a most unlucky fella
Whose call was put on hold.

A recorded voice informed him
There'd be a slight delay,
'But your call is quite important,
So please don't go away.'

Then began an endless loop 
Of an irritating tune,
Plus timely saccharine assurances
That someone would answer soon.

'I'm sure this won't take long,'
The foolish man did say.
'I'll simply sit and wait my turn...
Why not? I've got all day.'

Minutes passed, and then passed hours,
As life went on around him.
Yet still he sat, phone pressed to ear,
For his determination bound him. 

The longer he waited,
The more he had to stay.
His call'd be answered any sec,
So he mustn't go away.

With zero sleep and little food,
He clutched his phone for days.
He began to hum that damnable tune,
And his puffy eyes looked crazed.

Then finally, on day twenty-two or three,
The music stopped; he held his breath,
And he heard a woman say:

'Thank you for your patience.
I'm so glad that you could stay.
Now won't you kindly tell me
What I can do for you today?'

'Your mattress stinks; I'll not return
To your crummy store Sweet Slumber.
I demand my money back!'
'So sorry, sir. Wrong number!"

***********

On Tuesday, I played it smart. I called the dreaded appointment center first thing in the morning. So first thing, in fact, after dutifully entering all the required information into the automated system, I was informed that the place didn't open until 8 AM. (The slackers!) There was a happy ending, though. I called on the stroke of eight, and by golly, I was first in line, and the task was accomplished in a matter of minutes. From now on, I will ALWAYS make that call at 8 AM. Burn me once, shame on you. Burn me twice, shame on me.

So are automated telephone systems and being put on hold the banes of your existence, too? Oh, and let's not forget those delightful robo-calls. (I guess there weren't enough people being duped via email, eh?) If none of those things make it to the top of your pet peeve list, what does? (Why not write a poem about it? HA) And, ya know,  if we can't beat the system, we might as well laugh at it...

                                     

Kinda makes ya nostalgic for the good old days of telephone, doesn't it? Well, except maybe for those pesky party lines. You know... when you knew your nosy neighbor was listening to your call, because you could hear her open-mouthed  breathing. Oh, but remember those really sweet helpful operators? Remember... Earnestine?

                                    Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Walking Our Pet Peeves (in the Tinkling Rain)

Thought for the day:  I had a friend who believed in me, and I didn't have the heart to let him down. [Abraham Lincoln]

We all need somebody to believe in us, no matter which paths we choose to take in life. For writers, finding that support is as easy as going HERE and joining the Insecure Writer's Support Group. Members of this fine gourp, founded by ninja writer Alex Cavanaugh, share an IWSG post the first Wednesday of every month, which is... today.

Since I'm still knee-deep in editing, rather than write a new post before answering the question of the month, I'm gonna share a largely ignored one from June, 2011, originally titled Secrets to Spinning an Original Tale. I was a newbie blogger back then, so you could say this old post still has the tags on it... never been worn.

************************


Thought for the day:  If you can't win 'em over with facts, dazzle 'em with malarkey.  

[image courtesy of Morguefile]

Ever catch any of Judge Judy's shows on TV? She's a little bit of a thing in a lace-collared robe who peers over the top of her bench like Kilroy while banging her gavel, wagging her finger and screeching at the people appearing before her. She's feisty and funny as all get-out at times, but I've seen enough snippets of her in action to know I sure as heck wouldn't want to face her in court. I can imagine how that would go. She'd be screeching, "Button your mouth, you old bag! I'm not interested in what you think! Just tell me exactly what happened." And she'd probably laugh me right out of the courtroom if I tried to explain my trips into fantasy by telling her I'm a writer. But I ask you, don't writers have a certain latitude when it comes to spinning our tales? Hmmmmph. Not to Judge Judy, because that lady has a built-in Malarkey-o-Meter the size of Montana.

I dunno. There's something about her that rubs me the wrong way. Strident? Oh yeah, but it isn't that. And did I happen to mention she screeches? That's a real nerve-grater, for sure, but it isn't that, either. She's just too darned ... how shall I put this? She's too doggone judgmental! I mean, who made HER the judge of all she sees? Oh. Yeah. (ahem) Never mind.

Anyway, Judge Judy wrote a book with one of the best titles of all time. It's called, Don't Pee on My Leg and Tell Me It's Raining. Priceless, isn't it? Or maybe worth, say, sixty-four thousand dollars, anyway.

And the sixty-four thousand dollar question for the day is : HOW do we writers make our readers believe we're tinkling rain??? HOW do we make the implausible plausible, the insurmountable surmountable, and the outrageous the norm? To find the answer, let's take a gander at the gurus of garbage, those writers with unsurpassed skills in turning tripe into something that passes for truth. I have no names for these people, but believe me, their skills are vast. I'm talking about those nameless instigators who post something on the Internet and then sit back with smirks on their faces while their post turns viral and essentially morphs from fabrication into fact.

WOW.  How can WE harness those skills? I suggest to you ...

Three simple steps:

• Include a smattering of verifiable facts in your writing. It'll demonstrate how smart you are, and establish you as an authority.
• Write with confidence and authority. In fact, if you demonstrate ample confidence and authority, you don't have to concern yourself with facts at all.
• Never be afraid to address hot-button topics. In fact, embrace them, baby. Any segment of society with a strong enough bias about any given topic will gladly believe whatever you tell them, as long as it reinforces the beliefs and hatreds they already harbor. As for facts? Pffffft. Don't need 'em. When readers go all Judge Judy on a topic, they're in danger of developing a serious medical condition known as psychosclerosis. Otherwise known as hardening of the attitude, this is not a fatal condition, but has been known to kill conversations and end relationships. (So, how'd I do with that one? Make your malarkey-o-meter tingle?)

WOOP! WOOP! WOOP!

OK, so we're not really interested in manipulating the minds of our readers, but you gotta admit, it's downright phenomenal how successful others have become at doing just that, thanks to the viral potential of the Internet. For some reason,  people who wouldn't dream of turning to the National Enquirer as a source for the latest news have no problem believing an article they find on Wikipedia or within a zillion-times forwarded email they receive from a friend. (Would you believe a new error-laden fourth grade social studies textbook entitled Our Virginia, Past and Present had to be recalled earlier this year because the writer of said textbook gleaned her erroneous "facts" from the Internet?)

Seems to me, we should all learn, not necessarily to be Judge Judy-ish, but at least to learn to take the things we read with a grain of salt. But oh, what we write... now that's another story. We don't WANT our readers to reach for the salt shaker. We want to spin locations, characters, and stories that are so well-seasoned and believable, no extra salt is ever needed. How can we do that? Let's backtrack to those three steps:

• By all means, weave verifiable facts into your story. Unless you're creating a fantasy world that defies our laws of physics, it's best not to buck science. Two examples where writers tried to do just that: In one book, the good guy electrocuted the bad guy by tossing an old capacitor (that he'd been carrying in his pocket for decades) into the sink while the bad guy was washing his hands. WOOP! WOOP! WOOP! Ain't gonna happen. In the second case, the damsel in distress successfully prevents her pursuers from following her by removing the valve stems from the tires of their car ... and thereby flattening the tires! More WOOP! WOOP! 
• Writing with confidence and authority is always a good bet, even if you have to fake it. (Also known as flying with the eagles when we feel like a chicken on the inside.)
• And finally, the hot-button topics. Well, that's up to you. Some excellent books have been written about some of these topics, and they've been written with great sensitivity and intelligence. And I already know that all of you have sensitivity and intelligence out the wazoo, right? Now, I'm no Judge Judy, but if you DO tackle one of these hot potatoes, please rely on verifiable facts, okay?

After all, too much salt isn't good for anyone.

Okay, now for the question of the month: What are your pet peeves when reading/writing/editing?

I'll just address the reading side of this question, because I honestly can't think of any writing or editing peeves. (Probably because I'm in the driver's seat when it comes to those areas, while as a reader, I'm locked in the back while somebody else does the driving.)

Anyhow, the number one thing that makes me want to throw a book across the room while screaming like a banshee is (insert drum roll here) cliffhanger endings. ARRRRRRGH!!! It's absolutely infuriating to purchase a book and invest the time in reading it only to be cheated out of a proper ending simply because the writer wants to manipulate readers into buying the next book. (or books) I get it. Series are hot, but please, please, please provide a resolution of some sort at the end of each book. Aim for readers' satisfaction, not frustration.

#2 I also wish writers would ix-nay the unnecessary repetition. Really, I got the point the first time... there's no reason to tell me fifty more times that the chick has blue eyes with long eyelashes. (or whatever) Beating issues to death by repeating them over and over is insulting to readers' intelligence.

#3 Based on the earlier part of this post, it should come as no surprise that blatant errors and an absence of common logic annoy the stuffing out of me, too.

Like everybody else, misspellings and grammatical errors stick in my craw, too, but the three issues already highlighted are at the top of any reading pet peeve list for me. How about you?

                                Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Some Pets Have Gotta GO!

Thought for the day:  Why is it you put your two cents' worth in, but are only offered a penny for your thoughts? (Where are all those extra pennies going?)

Oh, yeah, this is reeeeeally funny.

As mentioned in Monday's post, this is National Pet Week, the time of year for rabid pet owners all over the country to make a concentrated effort to humiliate and pamper the living daylights out of their beloved animals. Coming up this Saturday will be this year's annual Woofstock celebration in Suwanee, Georgia. (I kid you not!) Alas, Bob Dylan and Jimi Hendrix aren't available, but there will be other live music, and it's pretty likely that many of the pooches in attendance will be singing along. Thirty pet vendors and fifteen non-profit and rescue groups will have booths set up, and there will be food, drinks, and various entertainments for the two-legged kids, too. All pets are welcome, but they must be on a leash, and their owners must clean up after them. (Maybe one of the pet vendors will be selling pooper scoopers and baggies.)

OK, it's time to talk about another kind of pet now, the kind that requires neither a pooper scooper nor a baggy. Has neither feather nor fur, and doesn't even beg while you're eating dinner. Animal lovers and animal haters alike have 'em, even though we may try to deny their existence. They're those annoying little beasties known as pet PEEVES.

If she does that again, I'll SCREAM!

Pet peeves are those seemingly minute annoyances that get on our last nerve, and nurture simmering resentment that threatens to explode with little provocation. All it takes it that proverbial last straw. Here are some typical pet peeves:

• You're so thirsty, your tongue is sticking to the roof of your mouth. You go to the fridge for a tall cold drink of your favorite beverage, and find the container has barely a half teaspoon of liquid left in it.
• Someone empties the ice cube tray, but doesn't bother to refill it with water. 
• Someone borrows your car and returns it with nothing but fumes left in the gas tank.
• Someone borrows your XYZ and returns it broken.
• Your neighbor encourages his 150-pound dog to defecate on your front lawn. (But he must do it at NIGHT, because you never catch him in the act. Still, there's that incriminating pile every morning.)
• Your neighbor blows all of his leaves out of his yard ... and into yours.
• After your mailman puts mail into your box, he forgets to close it. Rain or shine. 
• At least twice a week, your paperboy throws the morning newspaper under your car.
• Whenever your roommate, child, or significant other uses the kitchen sponge, (s)he leaves it sopping wet on the counter in a soggy sodden mess. 
• Inside-out socks and underwear in the laundry basket.

Any of those ring a bell with you? My only real pet peeve is over people who don't use their darned turn signals. In particular, when I'm waiting at a red light with my left hand turn signal blinking, and there's a whole line of traffic on the other side of the intersection, blinkerless. Most of THEM are waiting to make a left turn, too, but they don't have their turn signals on, so I have to WAIT, just in case they come straight. ARRRRGH! It makes me crazy!!! Still, I wait. After all, some rights are worth dying over, but the right of way isn't one of them. How about you? What's your biggest pet peeve?

Now that we've talked about pampered pets and pet peeves, I want to touch on one other kind of pet, and that's pet words. If you've ever known anyone with a verbal pet word or phrase, it's hard to miss. I used to know a gal whose favorite word was "absurd." The first five hundred times she used it were mildly amusing. Then, there was the "awesome" phase, when it seemed like just about everyone was sprinkling their conversation with that word. Teenagers are probably the most apt to glom onto favorite words; they have their own unique "teen speak." My friends and I used to overuse words like gross, neat, cool, and gag a maggot. (Matter of fact, I STILL say neat and cool ...) 

Extending beyond verbal pet words, writers are just as likely to fall into the pet word trap. 

Out, damned pet!

When editing, we have to leash those pet words and show 'em who's boss. Many writers have a tendency to overuse words like and, but, then and now, and I'm one of them. Another weakness I share with some other writers is using phrases like was thinking or was running,  when the simple past tenses thought and ran are much more effective. It's also a good idea to be aware of the word used to begin each sentence. If fifteen sentences within the first page all start with the same word, maybe it's time to consider spicing it up with a little bit of variety. 

Even if there's a particularly effective phrase within your work, overuse can dilute its effectiveness, and turn what started out as impressive into merely ordinary. For example, one book I read described a woman's hair as being the color of a new penny. I loved that. Vivid image, right? But, in the course of the book, the author described half a dozen other things as being the color of a new penny. He did the same thing in his second book, so I guess that truly was a pet phrase of his. I'd be willing to bet he was unaware of how much he overused it, though. (Both of his books were self-published, so this is a particular caveat for those who seek self-publication: beware of those pet words!)

Now that we've discussed pampered pets, pet peeves, and pet words, I'll leave you with a couple of priceless quotes about words. Referring to Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner said, "He has never used a word that might send a reader to the dictionary." To which Hemingway replied, "Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words?"

Until next time, it'd be awesome if you take care of yourselves. And each other.