Worst Copywriting. Fewest Words.

Why are city parking signs examples of the worst copywriting?

Because they are poorly written. And they are everywhere--literally.

Trying to decipher the confusing and limited language while whizzing down an empty street often requires a PhD. And often results in a ticket because of misinterpretation.

When you are writing--or reviewing someone else's writing--ask yourself if the language is clear, concise and easy to understand.

You'll know it isn't if it brings to mind municipal signage.

That's a starting point for good writing.

The Glorious, Global Oyster.

I just spent a week in Washington state eating thumb-sized Penn Cove oysters and Bowes that were two-thirds the size of my fist.

Slimy bliss.

If you, too, love the sweet and briny tang of this lowly mollusk, then get your hands on a copy of the August issue of Travel & Leisure and flip to page 127.

Peter Jon Lindberg has spent three years traveling the world in search of the best specimens.

His rhapsodic prose in "The World Is My Oyster" will delight you. (No link online, buy a copy at a newsstand).

A sample: "Perhaps it's their shells, the contours mimicking the landscapes they inhabit, craggy coastlines in miniature. Perhaps it's their pungent, briny liquor, crashing like surf across the tongue....Knocking one back is like mainlining the cove it came from."

The Importance of Source Material.

Not too long ago, I attended a screening of an artsy film called Cheri. The reviews were mixed, as were my feelings after the credits rolled. The movie looked sumptuous, but it lacked depth.

But the story of an aging courtesan who falls tragically in love with a much younger man in 1920s Paris was intriguing. I went to the library and checked out the novel written by Colette.

Why read when you can watch? Why seek out the original source materials?

Because Hollywood takes liberties. Because it is thrilling to let your imagination connect the dots. Because there's magic in your own interpretation of an author's words. Because the morsels of language revealed on the page quicken the blood in a way film cannot.

"A Marrow Experience."

All of us, intuitively, can relate to a "marrow experience," one that pervades our very bones.

In her memoir of manic depression, An Unquiet Mind, Dr. Kay Jamison unblinkingly describes the state she was in:

"St. Andrews provided a gentle forgetfulness over the preceding painful years of my life. It remains a haunting and lovely time to me, a marrow experience. For one who during her undergraduate years was trying to escape an inexplicable weariness and despair, St. Andrews was an amulet against all manner of longing and loss, a year of gravely held but joyous rememberances. Throughout and beyond a long North Sea winter, it was the Indian summer of my life."

Writing With Bite.

This wonderful sentence is from Melissa Bank's novel The Wonder Spot:

"Back at the Cave, I took a sip and tasted thousands of pots of coffee that had burned themselves into black bitterness; I tasted the burner itself."

What's Wrong With Liking Pate?

Is cultural snobbery dying in a low-brow world?

The August issue of Vanity Fair explores the topic in a pithy column by James Wolcott, arbiter of all things highbrow.

http://www.vanityfair.com/culture/features/2009/08/wolcott200908

Go Early. Go Green.

I'm up and at 'em uncharacteristically early (and on a summer Friday!) to attend SART, Sustainable Atlanta Roundtable.

Sponsored by Southface Energy Institiute, which promotes responsible solutions for environmental, today's talk is about financial incentives for making your home energy efficient.

Want to get involved? Check out future programs at: http://www.southface.org/web/programs&events/SART/sart-menu.htm.