Friday, December 30, 2011

New Year's Resolution #3

I will not arbitrarily capitalize.

CAPS CAPS CAPS!
There’s been a rash of arbitrary capitalization in recent years.  Maybe it’s because there are so many official designations floating around, and people have taken to assuming things should be capitalized that should not. Or they want to err on the side of caution. Or they feel capitalization bestows importance or emphasis.

Check yourself before you wreck yourself. The following, no matter how many times you see them capitalized in print, are lower cased in the body of your text.*

federal
civilian
defense
government
department

Those are just a few of the most common cases of incorrect case - they're everywhere. In my mind, there are four situations in which it is acceptable to use nonstandard capitalization:

1. You are J.D. Salinger and are going for a touch of irony.
2. You are Paul Krugman and are going for a touch of irony.
3. You are an 18th century essayist writing about things like Beauty and Intellect.
4. You are writing nouns in German (in which case, it would be standard capitalization, because, you know, it’s German).

For the full rules for capitalization, consult a style guide. The University of South Carolina has a pretty straightforward one here, and it’s always a good idea to invest in a copy of the AP Style Guide.

*Unless they're part of an official title: the Department of Defense, the State of Alaska, the Government Accountability Office, or the UC Berkeley Department of English, for example.

Happy New Year: Recap and Resolutions

Happy New Year from Active Voice LLC, the DC region's premiere writing and editing service (at least as far as our mothers are concerned) serving businesses small and large, agencies, nonprofits, and professionals.

We are going to try not to sound like your sister-in-law's annual holiday newsletter (because, honestly, do you need another real-time report on this year's junior high choral extravaganza?) or even look like it (who does those portraits anymore; isn't Sears closed? How does she even find a family-worth of matching argyle vests?). But we need to brag a bit.

In 2011, we wrote and edited columns that appeared in major newspapers and magazines across the country and online; speeches that were intoned at universities, in front of Congress, and to crowds in the thousands; proposals, capabilities statements, reports, resumes, brochures, and web content for people and businesses each and every one of whom we are convinced is the next Steve Jobs or Apple.

We updated our website and dipped our collective toe (gruesome image) into the social media stream. About that, by the way: we find ourselves not as friended or followed as we believe our charming personalities and amusing musings warrant. And though we have yet to see begging identified as an effective social media strategy, we are going to try: Please friend us on Facebook, follow us on Twitter, comment on our blog (even if just to say, would you please shut up). You will save us no end of "if a tree falls onto our Twitter account" philosophical debates around the water cooler.

Most of all, though, in 2011, we didn't go broke. And we choose to interpret that as confirmation of our strongest belief: good writing matters. No matter how you wrap your language in flash animation, online polls, and YouTube videos of chipmunks dancing in teeny underwear, if you do not, in the words of demigods William Strunk and E.B. White, "make every word tell," then all you have at the end of the day is chipmunks dancing in teeny underwear.

For this affirmation, we thank you - our wonderful clients and supporters. And thank you in advance to those of you with whom we will work in 2012 (because we know that after you read this, you will think, oh what a clever bunch, and immediately click over to our web page and check out our services).

Our resolution in 2012 is to try, for each person with whom we work and meet, to live up to the soubriquet E.B. White bestowed on Charlotte in Charlotte's Web: "It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer."

Thursday, December 15, 2011

New Year's Resolution #4

I Will Use I, Me, My and Mine Correctly

It's easy to use personal pronouns correctly when you're only talking about yourself, but as soon as more than one person is involved, it seems like it all falls apart. Today I read this sentence in the blogosphere:
I've been working on and off on a scrapbook of Joe and I's relationship.
Huh? I's relationship?

Often, mistaken pronouns are a symptom of overcorrection.  In school, we're taught to change our colloquial "me and Joe" to "Joe and I."  And that is correct -- when it's appropriate to use a nominal, non-possessive pronoun.  But that's not always the pronoun you need.

So forget about "Joe and I." Instead, say the sentence as if you were the only person involved in it.  You would never say "I's relationship." You would say "my relationship." The same pronouns apply, whether or not that Joe guy is around.


The Beatles demonstrate their mastery of pronouns.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

New Year's Resolution #5

Hemingway
People admire Hemingway for his concise style, but the real strength in his writing is that he's also precise: the first facilitates the second.  (You've also got to admire Woody Allen for writing the best impersonation of Hemingway around in Midnight in Paris.)

Precision isn't easy.  Forming one truly complete thought -- let alone all the thoughts that go into one complete piece of writing -- isn't easy.  That's why most of us have trouble being concise.  If we can't nail down an idea with one word (or phrase, or sentence), we try to do it with three, hoping they'll circumscribe the point we want to make.

I resolve -- and I hope you will, too -- to cut out the redundant words and sentences.  Like in that Talking Heads song, "Say something once, why say it again?" Just be sure to say it well the first time around.

Monday, December 12, 2011

New Year's Resolution #6

I Will Match my Pronoun to its Antecedent

How pleasant it is to match one's pronouns to one's nouns.
It's believed that goldfish have five second memories.  It's a fact that most writers do.  Within the course of one sentence, many of us lose track of the noun to which we're referring.  We end up with an "its" that refers to a plural noun or series of nouns, or more commonly, a "they" that refers to a singular noun.

It doesn't help that there's no informal gender-neutral pronoun for "a person" in English.  Instead, we're stuck dealing with this "one" or "his or her" business.  And then we sound like Miss Bingley in Pride and Prejudice:
"How pleasant it is to have one's house to oneself again."
She's grammatically correct, but ugh. Who wants to sound like that?

But I digress.  The reality is, we're operating in a language that does not have a convenient gender-neutral pronoun for the third person singular, and we have to work with what we've got.  Check pronouns against their antecedents,  k?

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

New Year's Resolution #7

I Will Not Splice

You're probably not going around splicing genes left and right; it's best not to do it to sentences, either.  A comma splice occurs when, rather than separating two independent clauses with a period (or at least a semicolon), you join them with a comma and no conjunction.  (The exception to this rule is when the clauses are alike in form, in which case, lo! you have a rhetorical technique.  For example: I came, I saw, I conquered).
Potions Master, Notorious Splicer

I was rereading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix last night.  Evidently, one of Snape's most dubious behaviors is his tendency to splice.
"We are continuing with our Strengthening Solutions today, you will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson, if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend..."
Sorry, Snivellus, but those are all independent clauses.  10 points from Slytherin, and if that wasn't dialogue, I'd make it detention.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

New Year's Resolution #8

I Will Not Use a Fragment as a Sentence

We call them fragments because they're incomplete on their own, like jelly or gravy or Taylor Swift.  Or like Renee Zellweger in the opening credits of Bridget Jones' Diary. Lacking a subject or a predicate, a fragment can be made complete when attached to a sentence.  Unless you do it for stylistic reasons, don't leave a fragment hanging.

Alas, too often fragments are made to stand on their own.  Here's an example I came across today:
"This is one of my favorite books [That was an independent clause.]. Written by the author of The Time Traveler's Wife [Arghhh! That's not a sentence!]."
Lonely fragments: just another everyday tragedy.

Monday, December 5, 2011

New Year's Resolution #9

It Is A Wonderful Life
I Will Not Mistake "It's" and "Its"

If editors had a nickel every time they saw this one...that'd be a pretty substantial pay raise.

Quick test #1: Does something belong to "it?" Use "its."
Quick test #2: Can you replace the word with "it is?" Use "it's."

Thursday, December 1, 2011

New Year's Resolution #10

I Will Not Place the Comma After the Conjunction

Uh-oh.
Remember that segment in Planet Earth about the polar bear being displaced as the Arctic Circle shrinks?  Pretty harrowing story, right?  So, too, it goes for the comma.

Today the comma is showing up increasingly in places it was never meant to exist.  One of the worst of these unnatural habitats: after the conjunction.  Observe the migration of this comma out of its proper environment:

Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and, thyme.

Let's all do our parts in 2012. Save the commas!

Monday, November 21, 2011

Get Thee to an Editor

Technology has been the great equalizer for writers: thanks to tablets, e-books, and online self-publishing, all aspiring writers can access a large audience, not just the writers who make it into the consciousness of a major publishing house.  It goes without saying that this is a blessing to many writers, and that it reflects the values of a democratic, capitalistic society.  But what of the curse of the new world of publishing?  What's happening to editorial review?

I can't deny I have a professional bias: of course I think editing is important.  It's my job.  Since I have a conflict of interest, I will recuse myself from arguing for the necessity of the editor in the authorial process.  I'll let speak a far more capable champion of the editor.  Salman Rushdie:

"...In house after house, good editors have been fired or not replaced, and an obsession with turnover has replaced the ability to distinguish good from bad. Let the market decide, too many publishers think... What we need, however, is a return to the best kind of editorial ruthlessness.  We need a return to judgment."

Maxwell Perkins, Editor Extraordinaire
Salman Rushdie wrote this even before the current boom of online publishing; if it was true in a pre-Create Space world, how much truer it is now.  That the editor is now an endangered species is obviously problematic for the editor himself; it's no less detrimental for the reader and the writer.

Without "editorial ruthlessness" to vet and improve material, readers are inundated with writing -- some good, some bad, and much that could have been better under the eye of an editor.  It's dismally overwhelming to navigate through thousands of unknown texts: writers, writers everywhere, but not a lot to read.

Meanwhile, the writer suffers from the loss of his unbiased judge and advisor. It's a loss felt no matter how talented the writer -- even Fitzgerald needed a Maxwell Perkins.

The fiction writer gets to play god in his work: He giveth characters life and can taketh away, too.  So, if you're writing, be a benevolent god.  Get an editor to do justice to your work.

- Kate Zavack

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Foot in Mouth Disease

Active Voice not only writes speeches, articles, and other content.  We can also prep you for press interviews or debates.  Why would you need that?  Let’s ask Herman Cain:

Republican presidential candidate Herman Cain struggled to answer a question about U.S. foreign policy toward Libya in an interview with theMilwaukee Journal-Sentinel editorial board Monday.

"Okay, Libya," said Cain, glancing up. "President Obama supported the uprising, correct? President Obama called for the removal of [Muammar] Gaddafi. Just wanted to make sure we're talking about the same thing before I say, 'Yes, I agreed. No, I didn't agree,'" said Cain.
"I do not agree with the way he handled it for the following reason," Cain started, before cutting himself off. "Nope, that's a different one." Cain shifted in his chair, adjusted his jacket and looked up again.
"I got all this stuff twirling around in my head," he added.

Huffington Post, 11/14/11.  Read the whole story, and watch the film adaptation, here.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Chairman of the Board


                A few months ago, I was talking to a couple good friends – both leaders in well established businesses – about my start-up writing and editing company.  I needed to find more work but couldn’t figure out on which product line to focus (I narrowed it down to “working on projects that involve words” – that’s right, in a bold move, I eliminated miming from my menu of products). If I picked a product, I didn’t know how to price it.  If I priced it, I didn’t know where to sell it, or how. 

                At one point, one friend said “You need a board of directors.”  Now I know, what he meant was “you need to shut up and order so we can eat before they start putting chairs on the tables.”  But the idea intrigued me.  Perhaps, somewhere, there was a table of men, looking like my Dad in the 1960s, in impeccable suits, silk ties, and hats, who would help me work through the business problems I might have been able to tackle myself had I spent less time on Aristotle and more (or any) time on accounting in college.

                But I didn’t get a board.  The mere thought of putting one together sent me in another tailspin (Who would serve on it?  And why?  Do I pay them (Ha! Of course not!  We don’t pay anybody!)?  Do I have to get water glasses and notepads for each like in the movies? Do they even make those hats anymore?). 

                I still need the help my imaginary behatted board would provide, and I had pretty much given up on finding it until a coworker, Peter Mellen, from our coworking space, Affinity Lab, asked us to write a quick speech introducing his company, Netcito.  Of course, before making an introduction, I had to get to know Netcito.  And there, I found my board.

                Here’s the speech:

                Good afternoon.  I am Peter Mellen, and I founded Netcito, a membership organization that brings together groups of creators – innovators, entrepreneurs, philanthropists –to support each other as they cultivate their business, personal, and life dreams.
                I was recently watching the award winning 2008 documentary, Man on a Wire, about Philippe Petit, the man who walked a high wire between the twin towers of the World Trade Center in 1974.  The plot line is fascinating –a caper story worthy of Christopher Nolan: Petit had to sneak into the World Trade Center a custom 26 foot balancing pole and a 450 pound cable, which was shot with a bow and arrow between towers.  But more stunning are the pictures – both still and rough video – of Petit’s 45 minutes on the wire, eight trips between the towers before he surrendered to New York City police.
                Those shots show him stepping into the air, alone above New York City.  One misstep spelling, not just the end of his dream, but the end of his life.  But he doesn’t misstep.  Instead, he takes a mundane activity we almost all do every day – walking -- and elevates it to magic – an unbelievably eloquent expression of man’s potential – a moving monument to an artist’s vision, and perseverance, and bravery.
                And isn’t that exactly what the entrepreneur does – what all of you in this room do?  Take something that almost everybody, even in this crap economy, does – work a job – and – alone, without a net, with fatal foot faults possible at each step -- elevate it to magic: your own product, your mark on the world, a living dream.
                It is a great metaphor – except for one thing.  As solitary as his feat looks in the photos, Philippe Petit was not alone, not by a long shot.  He had teams of technicians, supporters, fellow artists, investors, believers, and adventurers, helping him plan his approach, pay for his equipment, break into the towers, tighten his rope, hold back those who rushed to knock him down.  He could not have done it without them.
                And you -- regardless of how many hours you work, how many business books you read, how many credit cards you take out to meet payroll – can’t do it alone either. 
                That is where Netcito comes in.
                Netcito puts together small groups of entrepreneurs to meet informally and off-the-record for half a day once a month and a full day once a year.  We learn from each other, dissect past actions and map future ones, talk strategy, share fears, make new connections.  In short, we act as your personal board of directors, the people who have your back when someone or something threatens to push you off your high wire.
                Netcito is more than a business seminar, do-it-yourself management book, or networking circle.  We know you are too busy running your business to have time to read or discuss all the information out there on how to run your business.  You bring to Netcito your specific questions, your challenges, your opportunities, your hopes.  Like Petit’s team, we are focused on your dream.  And like all truly extraordinary dreams, we understand you need a solid team, in both towers and on the ground, to make it real.
                    If you are interested in more information on joining Netcito, please come talk to me after the presentation, or visit our website at Netcito.com.  Let us help you reach heights you – and perhaps no one – ever imagined. 
                    As Philippe Petit said: “It’s impossible.  That’s sure.  So let’s start working.”
Kate the Elder

Monday, November 14, 2011

I have a record to set straight.

I have a bee in my bonnet.  A bone to pick.  Whatever - I need to get something off my chest.

Last week, Affinity Lab hosted a DC Week event on the future of publishing (called "The Future of Publishing.")  The Labbies, wonderful coworkers that they are, proffered free coffee and candy and bagels (with cream cheese!) to attendees, and my morning seemed full of promise. Interesting discourse and tasty treats were mine.

Is this a book? Gotcha!
But as I sat in the back of the crowd, partaking in my morning caffeine ritual, a dark cloud descended over the Lab.  It was a very localized cloud, pretty much limited to the region directly above my head.  I listened to the panelists, a handful of their comments rendering me crankier and crankier.  Soon I was in a crank that coffee would not undo.

"I doubt anyone here would say this isn't a book," grinned one panelist, holding a Kindle aloft.

"Here's a question - is The Odyssey a book?" posed another panelist.

Ugh.  The English-major-bibliophile rancor rose within me.  And it still hasn't subsided.  For my own sake, I need to clarify a few things.

The Odyssey isn't a book, nor has it ever been: it's an epic poem.  And Pride and Prejudice is a novel.  And Pygmalion is a play.  And Essais is, you know, a collection of essays.  Just ask Wikipedia: they're not books.  They come in books (sometimes).

The book is a medium for the text, just as a Kindle is, or an online pdf on Google Books is.  They aren't interchangeable.  They are different from each other - and I suspect over the next decade we'll see how much so.

Now that I've defined my terms, let's address the claim that the book is dead.

Book of Kells: cooler IRL
I'm a defender of the book.  I spent enough time in undergrad tracking how authors play with the text-as-physical-object motif to want the text-as-physical-object to stay relevant.  And for the record, I think it will.

A book, since it is a physical object, has possibilities its digital brethren have not.  A book is an artifact, bearing the smudges, coffee stains, and scribbled marginalia of every person who has been exposed to it.  It can be a personal relic, conjuring associations of the texture and smell of the pages with how you felt, what you thought, and where and who you were when you read it.  It can be an aesthetic object - no digital text can replicate the splendor of an illuminated manuscript.  I will always defend the book, commercial viability be damned.

But I'm not blind to the advantages of new textual media.  I get why my dad read War and Peace on a Kindle, not as a clunky, five-pound paperback. (I haven't actually weighed it, but I assume it's about the same as a toy dog).  An online nonfiction can supplement text with interactive graphics, video, and running commentary from author and audience alike -- I won't deny educators the possibilities this opens up for textbooks.  And a digitized text, like those available on Google Books, does wonders for academic research: instantly you can locate a quote you half-recall, or find, for example, every instance of the word "pale" in Lolita (40 times in about 300 pages, by the way).

Evolving to their own niches
The point is, these media are distinct from each other. Each is suited to different kinds of texts, purposes and audiences.  New textual media don't need to supplant the book - nor do I think they will, ultimately.  Instead, I imagine all these media cohabiting the literary ecosystem, each evolved to its own niche.  We can take these media for what they are and what they're best at - and not confuse, conflate, or condemn any of them.

Whew. I feel better.  Time for coffee.

- Kate Zavack

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Kate Zavack's November Reading List

If you've been on the internet this week - and clearly you have if you're here - you might have seen Salman Rushdie's limerick-tweet commemorating Kim Kardashian's divorce. If you haven't, you can view it on The New York Times page here.

There's so much I love about this limerick-tweet existing: the crash of highbrow with lowbrow, of traditional written form with new media, of an iconic writer with, you know, the rest of us. Maybe I'm overreacting, but this limerick is actually pretty groundbreaking.  Salman Rushdie has demonstrated the realm of possibilities available to us in the new millennium.  He's shown how we can relate to, and even communicate with, our heroes.  He's shown how traditional literature can adapt to a new online environment and evolve to be more accessible.  He's shown how literature can be part of the lives and daily discussions of a growing audience.  That's pretty cool.

So, in honor of Mr. Rushdie's limerick-tweet, my reading list this month will explore his work in more traditional media.

1. The Satanic Verses
2. Step Across the Line
3. Midnight's Children

I'll be sharing my thoughts about each throughout the month.  Read along with me and share your impressions.

Monday, October 31, 2011

WikiHomer

The Iliad still matters. 
We tend to think of canonical literature as static.  The more established a work, the more ossified we're likely to consider it.  If you imagine Homer right now, you're probably picturing him as a marble bust -- turned to stone and put on a pedestal.  But even the most canonical text is really a shifting, mutable thing.  In this podcast from The New Yorker, Daniel Mendelsohn talks with Blake Eskin about a new translation of the Iliad, our evolving views on the epic's authorship, and what both say about contemporary society (Hint: it has something to do with the internet).  

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Autobiography of an Ex-passive Writer

By Kate Zavack

Nobody told me to be careful when I started reading Jane Austen in eighth grade, or warned me when I opened Les Misérables for the first time: nineteenth century literature is dangerous stuff for impressionable young writers. I wasn’t ready to emulate that syntactical complexity; by high school I was out of control. My sentences needed their own paragraphs, my paragraphs needed their own pages.  My clauses had clauses, and my subjects disagreed with their poor predicates.  It was a bad scene, man.

It wasn’t Jane Austen’s fault, and it wasn’t Victor Hugo’s.  They knew what they were doing.  So did George Eliot and Tolstoy and Dickens.  So where was I getting lost?  What was leading me astray? It was that sneaky trickster, passive voice.

“What’s so dangerous about passive voice?” you ask.  “Should I fear for my coherence? My sanity? My life?


Calm down.  You can use passive voice safely.  If you construct a sentence passively because you decide it's appropriate, you’ll be okay.  The trouble with passive voice is that you can use it to avoid responsibility for your words and ideas.  You don’t have to define your terms.  You don’t have to explain causality.  When you use passive voice, you don’t have to state who did what to whom, you can get by with just the “what” and the “whom.”  Once you leave out the “who,” the “how” and the “why” are next on the chopping block.  And then you’re in a world of confusion.

Meanwhile, back in high school, I didn’t know any of that yet.  I used passive voice freely, never thinking to make sure I had a “who,” a “what,” and a “whom” clearly stated in my head, if not in my sentences.  My ideas were hazy and incomplete, and that’s I wrote such long, convoluted sentences: if you can’t articulate a point clearly and concisely in your head, you certainly can’t do it on paper.

But my life was about to change.  Tenth grade English teacher and living legend Nonia Gay Jones had a rule: her students were not allowed to write more than five percent of their sentences in passive voice.  Only five percent? That was like, impossible!

Actually, it wasn’t.  Slowly I came around and broke my habit.  My writing matured, as did my literary analysis.  I started to understand the rule, to cherish it, and to enforce it.  By my last semester of college, I was scrawling in red pen across friends’ drafts: “PASSIVE!!! UNCLEAR!!! INCLUDE ‘THE WHO’ IN YOUR SENTENCE!!!” 

All caps. Exclamation points. Red ink.  Let’s pretend I wasn’t totally annoying.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Kate the Elder

By Kate the Elder


                I always tell our small business clients that their advantage is that they are people with stories, and Northrop Grumman is a massive machine with a slick PR campaign.  That is why all their written material needs to project their unique voice, the voice of someone the client could look in the eye, shake a hand, and (c’mon, c’mon) award a multimillion dollar contract for doing something easy.

                So, in making my first blog post all about our company, I didn’t follow my own advice – I should have told you about me (though I assumed since only my family and Kate the Younger, my one employee, read this, it might not be necessary).  I will rectify that mistake now, and at the same time follow my second rule of writing (1. Project a unique, active voice, 2. Never write from scratch something you have already written and stashed on the hard drive somewhere).

                When we joined the Affinity Lab (our coworking space in DC, about which you will hear much more in future blog posts), I had to fill out an application that asked what my most rewarding life experience had been.  That led to a diatribe that I present here as a pretty good, 3 minute tour of my life for the last 49 plus years:

That is an incredibly difficult question for an old person like me who has led an incredibly rich and lucky life.  I’ve given birth, then raised that mewling infant into a confident artist starting this year as a freshman at the Pratt Institute.  I helped a mean ass ewe give birth to triplets (and by “helped,” I mean untangled the three while they were still in the womb, which is like doing a big slimy Rubik’s cube in the dark, and yanked the three out) – we bred one, sold one, and ate one: rewarding on so many levels.  I worked twenty years in the U.S. Senate for the likes of John Glenn and (mostly) Herb Kohl where I got a hug from Jesse Jackson, Bill Clinton, Davey Jones, and Jack Lalane (not on the same day), got to collaborate with Ted Kennedy, Robert C. Byrd, and Dale Bumpers (all personal heroes), and was anthraxed (got better).  I saw the Jackson Five in concert from the third row at a stadium next to the Chicago stockyards when they were still stockyards and smelled that way and when the brothers still wore orange jump suits with fringe on the arms; Sly and the Family Stone opened. I got cancer and (again) got better, but not before losing several internal and external body parts and all my hair (hair grew back).  I went to grad school at Oxford with now prime minister David Cameron (who wouldn’t remember me) and fabulous author and writing teacher Wilton Barnhardt (who would); in a related experience, I had a book dedicated to me, which would have been at least emotionally rewarding had the heroine, also based in part on me, not have died at the end, a drug addicted whore (I am neither, but that is why they call it fiction).  I can cook all the food, well, for parties of 100 or more, and do whenever I can. With my husband, I built from nothing on a wooded track of land in the Shenandoah Valley, a multiproduct sustainable farm with a large and loyal customer base (before deciding we didn’t want to spend all of our time driving produce and meat around and transitioned the enterprise from an unprofitable business to an expensive hobby).  I had chicken cooked in a old oil barrel and pie at my second wedding, which was more fun than my first.  I built from nothing Active Voice, a writing company that works for people we like or believe in, employs people we like and believe in, and allows me to work from anywhere in the world I can get wireless.  I could go on, but I can’t pick a “most rewarding.”  My hierarchy of happiness and achievement is horizontal.


Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Bildungsblog

By Kate the Younger

One of the perks of my job is that I’m forced to write every day.  As much as I love the written word – or rather, in proportion to how much I love it – I find nothing more daunting than choosing which words to put on a blank page.  Without an assignment, I’d be in a chronic state of writer’s block. I’d never need to buy new writing utensils, and the pen and pencil manufacturers would see huge dips in their bottom lines.  The overall impact on the economy would be untold.  Fortunately, my boss won’t let that happen to me or the economy, and I am now, in addition to my formal post as director of operations, the co-host of the Active Voice blog.  Hello, readers!

Truly, there are few greater blessings for a young writer than to have the opportunity to write frequently and freely, and most importantly, to be held accountable for her productivity.  However strong one’s inclination for writing is, it’s not talent or taste, but perseverance that really carries the day. Or so Ira Glass assures me:

It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions…It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.[i]

Thanks, Ira.  That means a lot to me.  What this means for you, readers, is that you are bearing witness to the “volume of work” that I’m supposed to go through, for better or for worse.  I hope to work through many writerly growing pains here.  I hope it’s not painful for both of us.  I will do my best to share what is interesting, beautiful, and useful for writers, Washingtonians, professionals, and of course, my many fans mom.
 

Active Voice is Blogging!

                Welcome to Active Voice’s inaugural blog post – all the excitement of the 2009 inauguration without the endless lines, overpriced souvenirs, and historic swearing-in of our nation’s first black president.  Oh, and Aretha Franklin.  We don’t have Aretha Franklin.

                For those of you who don’t know who Active Voice is (Seriously?  You don’t know who we are and you chose this blog to read out of the 2.4 trillion that go online each day?   Could you let us know why, because we obviously have inadvertently marketed well, and we would like to be able to repeat): we are a small writing and editing firm serving nonprofits, government agencies, small businesses, corporations, and Congress.  Most of our clients are in the DC area, and we work from DC (in the fabulous co-working space, Affinity Lab), Greenville VA (our world headquarters, the porch at Green Fence Farm), Staunton, VA (birthplace of Woodrow Wilson and the Statler Brothers), and occasionally Brooklyn (New York), Bequia (in the Grenadine Islands), and points beyond (not that you need to concern yourself with where we type in relation to where you sit – with wireless available almost everywhere, we can, at a moment’s notice, be virtually looking over your shoulder, correcting your grammar, and polishing your prose).

                Our clients right now mostly fall into two categories: large nonprofits, government agencies, or DC firms for whom we write and edit reports, testimony, proposals, web content, white papers, newsletters, and speeches; and small businesses, many working with the government or hoping to soon, for whom we write and edit marketing material, proposals, capabilities statements, reports, web content, and speeches.  That said, we have written and edited party invitations, church newsletters, political flyers, holiday letters, resumes, adventure novels, and directions on what to pack in your Brownie’s lunch for the field trip.  You can see a list of our products, described in amusing detail, on our website.

                We love to write – and even more to edit; we specialize in making our clever, creative, and committed clients sound as clever, creative, and committed as they are.  We believe that every organization has a unique voice (or at least the ones who have been smart enough to hire us so far do); we help our clients, not just find that voice, but develop and project it. 

                We have all sorts of plans for this blog, but mostly it lets us write and practice our own voice.  As Active Voice’s founder, president, grand poobah, and cranky old writer (COW, for all you DoD acronym lovers), I will be a regular contributor as will the other 50% of our full time staff, also named Kate, our director of operations, writer, editor, vice president in charge of remembering when things are due, webmaster, and official cool young person (OCYP).  We hope to also include entries from our many part-time writers and pundits.  And we encourage any loyal readers (not sure who that would be since my mom hasn’t figured out how to post to blogs yet) to comment as well.

                We’ll be posting about the tremendous things our clients have done or are doing and tips for small businesses trying to work with the feds.  We’ll put up reports on conferences we attend, books we read, and writers we love or hate.  And we’ll talk about Active Voice: how we are trying to make it with a business model that allows us to do what we do best (write), for organizations in which we believe (our clients), from places we enjoy (all over), around people we love (our families and friends), and with enough success that we can give back to the causes we support (a long list).

                In future posts, Kate and I will introduce ourselves, our clients, and our and their work in more detail.  Please follow us on twitter, like us on Facebook, check out our website, or come up to us on the bus to chat. I promise more meat and less self-promotion in future posts (and maybe some recipes too).





(Old) Kate