Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Ghosts (of Christmases past)
I was the fourth of five kids growing up. We were very close in age, with just six years and five months separating the oldest and the youngest. There were two girls, my brother and me, then my younger sister.
When we were teenagers my parents began a tradition of holding an open house on Christmas Eve; anybody who felt inclined was welcome to come have a glass of punch (or pop) and some Christmas baking, and the house would be filled with teenagers and young adults, as well as friends of my parents. At midnight, after all of our guests had gone home, we would gather around the tree and open our gifts, one at a time, with everyone watching.
We would enjoy tourtière and other goodies while we opened our presents. With seven people in the family, the gift exchange often lasted until three or four in the morning, at which time we would tumble into bed, only to awaken five or six hours later to full stockings (we drew names to stuff each others' stockings) and the smell of turkey wafting through the house (my mother would have been up for a couple of hours already). For several years I had my own tradition of making waffles for the family on Christmas morning.
All day the house would be filled with the sounds of the vinyl records we had given each other the night before, and we modelled the new clothes we had received. My mom would spend most of the morning and early afternoon in the kitchen, preparing a big meal that was usually served around 3:00 or so and that lasted for a couple of hours. My father and we kids would take care of the dishes afterwards.
To this day I don't know how my mother managed it – the preparations for the open house, the late night/early morning gift exchange, getting up early to prepare the meal. I honestly don't know if any of us ever really understood or appreciated what she did for us and all our visitors during the Christmas season. I know I took for granted that there would be a delicious turkey dinner regardless how late we stayed up on Christmas Eve.
My mother is 80 years old now and recently widowed. We all still try to see each other at Christmas, but not necessarily all at the same time or on Christmas Day. My family has established its own Christmas traditions that revolve around our home. My oldest sister and my brother both live out of town and can't always make the trip.
Christmas will always be special to me, and having new traditions with my wife and son make it even more special. But with my father gone I find myself reflecting on my past and my family's past more than I used to. You can't bring the past back to life, but I will always treasure the memories of Christmases long past.
To anybody who is celebrating, I wish you a Merry Christmas, surrounded by family and friends. Best wishes as well for a happy, healthy and prosperous New Year.
When we were teenagers my parents began a tradition of holding an open house on Christmas Eve; anybody who felt inclined was welcome to come have a glass of punch (or pop) and some Christmas baking, and the house would be filled with teenagers and young adults, as well as friends of my parents. At midnight, after all of our guests had gone home, we would gather around the tree and open our gifts, one at a time, with everyone watching.
We would enjoy tourtière and other goodies while we opened our presents. With seven people in the family, the gift exchange often lasted until three or four in the morning, at which time we would tumble into bed, only to awaken five or six hours later to full stockings (we drew names to stuff each others' stockings) and the smell of turkey wafting through the house (my mother would have been up for a couple of hours already). For several years I had my own tradition of making waffles for the family on Christmas morning.
All day the house would be filled with the sounds of the vinyl records we had given each other the night before, and we modelled the new clothes we had received. My mom would spend most of the morning and early afternoon in the kitchen, preparing a big meal that was usually served around 3:00 or so and that lasted for a couple of hours. My father and we kids would take care of the dishes afterwards.
To this day I don't know how my mother managed it – the preparations for the open house, the late night/early morning gift exchange, getting up early to prepare the meal. I honestly don't know if any of us ever really understood or appreciated what she did for us and all our visitors during the Christmas season. I know I took for granted that there would be a delicious turkey dinner regardless how late we stayed up on Christmas Eve.
My mother is 80 years old now and recently widowed. We all still try to see each other at Christmas, but not necessarily all at the same time or on Christmas Day. My family has established its own Christmas traditions that revolve around our home. My oldest sister and my brother both live out of town and can't always make the trip.
Christmas will always be special to me, and having new traditions with my wife and son make it even more special. But with my father gone I find myself reflecting on my past and my family's past more than I used to. You can't bring the past back to life, but I will always treasure the memories of Christmases long past.
To anybody who is celebrating, I wish you a Merry Christmas, surrounded by family and friends. Best wishes as well for a happy, healthy and prosperous New Year.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Who's Watching the Store?
In France there’s a body of linguistic experts called “l’Academie français.” Among its roles is to oversee the language and make sure it remains appropriately French, especially in the face of creeping globalization and the general Americanization and Anglicization of most of the world’s cultures and languages. It studies the emergence of new terminology and makes determinations about whether the term can be appropriately francicized. If not, it proposes French alternatives.
For instance, in French, e-mail, which is shortened from electronic mail, is called couriel, which comes from courier electronique. A hamburger is called un hambourgeois. Just for the record, a cheeseburger is not a cheesebourgeois, but un hambourgeois avec fromage; however, a hot dog is un chien chaud. French fries are not frites français, but patates-frites.
English doesn’t work that way. There’s no group of English linguistic scholars pronouncing on the appropriateness of new English words, or words that have been borrowed from other languages. There’s nobody sitting in an ivory tower somewhere deciding whether we should adopt a word like tsunami or develop a more English-sounding term instead.
Whether this is a good thing is open to debate. There’s no doubt that our language is filled with words that have been taken from other languages. In most cases we’re richer for it. We have taken words from the French (denim, buccaneer), from Native Americans (canoe, igloo, chinook), and from India (pyjamas), among others, and made them our own.
As I mentioned in a previous posting, we have an enormous quantity of words that are directly descended from Latin or Anglo-Saxon words. We still have Celtic words in our lexicon too.
So what would our language look like if somebody had to evaluate every new word that came along and decide whether it was good enough to join the family?
Actually, in a way, someone is doing this. Or rather, several people are doing it, all over the world. Most English speaking countries have native dictionaries that are widely considered to be authoritative. In the U.S. it’s Webster’s. In the U.K., it’s the Oxford English Dictionary. Canada and Australia have their versions too. The inclusion of a word in one of these texts is like a baseball player getting to the Major Leagues.
What we don’t have is somebody actively telling us whether a new word is, in fact, a word. In English, if enough people are using it, it’s a word and the dictionaries record its arrival after the fact. In other words, the people decide whether a new word is a word. It’s all very democratic and, like democracy, messy at times. But for my money, it’s the best way to keep a language vibrant and vital.
For instance, in French, e-mail, which is shortened from electronic mail, is called couriel, which comes from courier electronique. A hamburger is called un hambourgeois. Just for the record, a cheeseburger is not a cheesebourgeois, but un hambourgeois avec fromage; however, a hot dog is un chien chaud. French fries are not frites français, but patates-frites.
English doesn’t work that way. There’s no group of English linguistic scholars pronouncing on the appropriateness of new English words, or words that have been borrowed from other languages. There’s nobody sitting in an ivory tower somewhere deciding whether we should adopt a word like tsunami or develop a more English-sounding term instead.
Whether this is a good thing is open to debate. There’s no doubt that our language is filled with words that have been taken from other languages. In most cases we’re richer for it. We have taken words from the French (denim, buccaneer), from Native Americans (canoe, igloo, chinook), and from India (pyjamas), among others, and made them our own.
As I mentioned in a previous posting, we have an enormous quantity of words that are directly descended from Latin or Anglo-Saxon words. We still have Celtic words in our lexicon too.
So what would our language look like if somebody had to evaluate every new word that came along and decide whether it was good enough to join the family?
Actually, in a way, someone is doing this. Or rather, several people are doing it, all over the world. Most English speaking countries have native dictionaries that are widely considered to be authoritative. In the U.S. it’s Webster’s. In the U.K., it’s the Oxford English Dictionary. Canada and Australia have their versions too. The inclusion of a word in one of these texts is like a baseball player getting to the Major Leagues.
What we don’t have is somebody actively telling us whether a new word is, in fact, a word. In English, if enough people are using it, it’s a word and the dictionaries record its arrival after the fact. In other words, the people decide whether a new word is a word. It’s all very democratic and, like democracy, messy at times. But for my money, it’s the best way to keep a language vibrant and vital.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Joy of Communicating
I love being a professional communicator. I enjoy the challenges of trying to reach diverse audiences, of creating product that has a specific purpose, and of writing in a variety of styles and formats. It can be frustrating at times, but it's rarely boring.
Helping people like scientists or economists or law enforcement professionals tell their stories effectively and compellingly can be very satisfying. Helping an organizational leader to connect with employees is equally so.
During my last two years with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, I was solely engaged in the organizational transformation file. We were trying to encourage change in an iconic, historic police organization that is known around the world for the integrity and professionalism of its police and civilian employees. The Mounties are world leaders in the fields of policing and forensic science, but certain elements of their culture were keeping the organization and individuals within it from achieving their full potential. Our job was to help employees to determine what change looks like and encourage them to aim high in trying to effect change.
It's no wonder I walked into work every morning feeling energized and went home in the evening knowing I'd really earned my pay. I was doing an incredibly important job and everybody I was working with felt the same way. But there's a lot of really important work going on in the communications shops of organizations large and small, old and new, private and public, including where I'm working now.
The one thing people the world over have in common is a need to believe their own life has meaning. Family, faith, and community play an important role in fulfilling this need but the reality is, full-time employees spend a huge chunk of their waking hours devoted to something that has little to do with any of these supports.
It stands to reason, therefore, that work needs to have meaning as well. This is where communicators can really have a positive impact on the satisfaction levels of employees and, by extension, to the success of their organization.
The fact is, satisfied, engaged, and informed employees are the best public relations vehicle available to any company. For example, when an organization receives negative media coverage for any reason, it's inevitable that employees will be called upon by their friends, relatives, and acquaintances to tell them the "real" story.
I'll give a hypothetical example: a media outlet has erroneously linked the CEO of a large organization to an outlaw motorcycle gang. The reality is that her brother-in-law is a successful criminal lawyer who recently represented a low-ranking associate of the gang in question. It may seem a little unsavory, but that's what criminal lawyers do; it's their job.
Now imagine what would happen if employees were given approved messaging about the issue to use in discussing it with friends or business colleagues. The messaging could be presented in plain language and employees would be entrusted to use the messaging at their own discretion when and if the issue comes up in conversation outside the workplace.
You would have employees feeling like a part of the solution because they would know what the issue is all about and have a pretty good idea where the truth lies. Your employees would also feel valued because they are being entrusted with defending and promoting the organization in the wider world. They would also feel better about their CEO for knowing the truth themselves.
Consequently, you would have employees defending their CEO and their organization with facts and figures that are verified and credible.
Frankly, it amazes me that all organizations don't take this approach. I know that when I was with the Mounties I had to defend the organization on several occasions because of the actions or perceived actions of a small number of police officers. Often there wasn't much I could say other than that there are two sides to every story and the officer's side will come out when the case gets to court.
Fortunately, I know from first-hand experience that the so-called bad apples were few and far between and those police officers with whom I worked were often the harshest critics of a fellow cop who did something unprofessional or just plain boneheaded. But the fact remained, that there were times I wished the organization would tell me something, give me something, because every single time something like this happened somebody somewhere would be anxious to talk to me and get my take on the situation.
I started this post talking about why I love being a communicator, and I'm ending it by musing about how all employees could be empowered to be better communicators. It makes sense, though, because what I love most about my work is feeling like I'm injecting a little bit of meaning into the work lives of my fellow employees. That's what gives meaning to my work.
Helping people like scientists or economists or law enforcement professionals tell their stories effectively and compellingly can be very satisfying. Helping an organizational leader to connect with employees is equally so.
During my last two years with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, I was solely engaged in the organizational transformation file. We were trying to encourage change in an iconic, historic police organization that is known around the world for the integrity and professionalism of its police and civilian employees. The Mounties are world leaders in the fields of policing and forensic science, but certain elements of their culture were keeping the organization and individuals within it from achieving their full potential. Our job was to help employees to determine what change looks like and encourage them to aim high in trying to effect change.
It's no wonder I walked into work every morning feeling energized and went home in the evening knowing I'd really earned my pay. I was doing an incredibly important job and everybody I was working with felt the same way. But there's a lot of really important work going on in the communications shops of organizations large and small, old and new, private and public, including where I'm working now.
The one thing people the world over have in common is a need to believe their own life has meaning. Family, faith, and community play an important role in fulfilling this need but the reality is, full-time employees spend a huge chunk of their waking hours devoted to something that has little to do with any of these supports.
It stands to reason, therefore, that work needs to have meaning as well. This is where communicators can really have a positive impact on the satisfaction levels of employees and, by extension, to the success of their organization.
The fact is, satisfied, engaged, and informed employees are the best public relations vehicle available to any company. For example, when an organization receives negative media coverage for any reason, it's inevitable that employees will be called upon by their friends, relatives, and acquaintances to tell them the "real" story.
I'll give a hypothetical example: a media outlet has erroneously linked the CEO of a large organization to an outlaw motorcycle gang. The reality is that her brother-in-law is a successful criminal lawyer who recently represented a low-ranking associate of the gang in question. It may seem a little unsavory, but that's what criminal lawyers do; it's their job.
Now imagine what would happen if employees were given approved messaging about the issue to use in discussing it with friends or business colleagues. The messaging could be presented in plain language and employees would be entrusted to use the messaging at their own discretion when and if the issue comes up in conversation outside the workplace.
You would have employees feeling like a part of the solution because they would know what the issue is all about and have a pretty good idea where the truth lies. Your employees would also feel valued because they are being entrusted with defending and promoting the organization in the wider world. They would also feel better about their CEO for knowing the truth themselves.
Consequently, you would have employees defending their CEO and their organization with facts and figures that are verified and credible.
Frankly, it amazes me that all organizations don't take this approach. I know that when I was with the Mounties I had to defend the organization on several occasions because of the actions or perceived actions of a small number of police officers. Often there wasn't much I could say other than that there are two sides to every story and the officer's side will come out when the case gets to court.
Fortunately, I know from first-hand experience that the so-called bad apples were few and far between and those police officers with whom I worked were often the harshest critics of a fellow cop who did something unprofessional or just plain boneheaded. But the fact remained, that there were times I wished the organization would tell me something, give me something, because every single time something like this happened somebody somewhere would be anxious to talk to me and get my take on the situation.
I started this post talking about why I love being a communicator, and I'm ending it by musing about how all employees could be empowered to be better communicators. It makes sense, though, because what I love most about my work is feeling like I'm injecting a little bit of meaning into the work lives of my fellow employees. That's what gives meaning to my work.
Monday, October 18, 2010
For my Dad
My father, Ray Girouard, passed away on October 8, 2010, at the age of 81. The following is an excerpt from the eulogy that my sister and I presented at his memorial service, which took place on October 11.
Dad had us all on skates with varying degrees of success by the time we were three, and I tried to follow in his footsteps by signing up for hockey as soon as I was old enough.
I wasn't nearly as talented as my dad, but I tried my best and, unlike some parents, he never yelled anything but encouragement to me.
One night we had a game at the Masson arena and for some reason there was no referee available. My dad happened to have his skates in the car, so somebody gave him a whistle and he went out and did his best just so we could have a game.
After that he started calling games regularly and before long he was refereeing for kids of all ages in the Aylmer house leagues.
Just like now, the referees got no respect and no thanks from the parents, the kids or the coaches. A woman once wrote in to the Aylmer Reporter to complain about the quality of officiating in minor hockey. My dad wrote back a blistering letter defending the dedication and sacrifices of the referees with whom he worked - all of them volunteers.
He pointed out that he had even broken his wrist while refereeing a game. "It was very painful," he wrote. He concluded by challenging the writer, if she thought she could do better, to come and give it a try.
Dad I never said this to you during my brief minor hockey career, so I'll say it now: "Hey ref! Thanks for the game!"
If refereeing was all he did for me and all the kids who wanted to play hockey in Aylmer it would have been plenty. But he did more than that.
When I first started playing hockey there was no indoor arena in Aylmer, so we played our games in Shawville, a good hour's drive away. My dad would get up every Saturday at five A.M., no matter what the weather, to drive me to Shawville for my games.
Sometimes he would pick up a kid or two on the way and make sure they got to the game. Years later, when I was in my early 30's, I ran into one of my old teammates at a party. He told me how his family had been going through a rough time during that period of his life and how much it meant to him that my dad would pick him up and drive him to Shawville with us. He said that my dad was like a second father to
him.
I quit playing hockey when I was 13. I finally realized I just wasn't very good. When I was 30 I started playing again with a bunch of friends. It was just dark shirts against white shirts and nobody really kept score. During the summer my dad and his friend Claude came out and played with us one night and finally, after all those years, I actually scored my first and only hat trick.
I know the guys were feeding me the puck all night on purpose, but I still like to think that on that Wednesday night at the Tom Brown arena, I finally made him proud.
Dad had us all on skates with varying degrees of success by the time we were three, and I tried to follow in his footsteps by signing up for hockey as soon as I was old enough.
I wasn't nearly as talented as my dad, but I tried my best and, unlike some parents, he never yelled anything but encouragement to me.
One night we had a game at the Masson arena and for some reason there was no referee available. My dad happened to have his skates in the car, so somebody gave him a whistle and he went out and did his best just so we could have a game.
After that he started calling games regularly and before long he was refereeing for kids of all ages in the Aylmer house leagues.
Just like now, the referees got no respect and no thanks from the parents, the kids or the coaches. A woman once wrote in to the Aylmer Reporter to complain about the quality of officiating in minor hockey. My dad wrote back a blistering letter defending the dedication and sacrifices of the referees with whom he worked - all of them volunteers.
He pointed out that he had even broken his wrist while refereeing a game. "It was very painful," he wrote. He concluded by challenging the writer, if she thought she could do better, to come and give it a try.
Dad I never said this to you during my brief minor hockey career, so I'll say it now: "Hey ref! Thanks for the game!"
If refereeing was all he did for me and all the kids who wanted to play hockey in Aylmer it would have been plenty. But he did more than that.
When I first started playing hockey there was no indoor arena in Aylmer, so we played our games in Shawville, a good hour's drive away. My dad would get up every Saturday at five A.M., no matter what the weather, to drive me to Shawville for my games.
Sometimes he would pick up a kid or two on the way and make sure they got to the game. Years later, when I was in my early 30's, I ran into one of my old teammates at a party. He told me how his family had been going through a rough time during that period of his life and how much it meant to him that my dad would pick him up and drive him to Shawville with us. He said that my dad was like a second father to
him.
I quit playing hockey when I was 13. I finally realized I just wasn't very good. When I was 30 I started playing again with a bunch of friends. It was just dark shirts against white shirts and nobody really kept score. During the summer my dad and his friend Claude came out and played with us one night and finally, after all those years, I actually scored my first and only hat trick.
I know the guys were feeding me the puck all night on purpose, but I still like to think that on that Wednesday night at the Tom Brown arena, I finally made him proud.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Talking Shop with my 10-Year-Old
Every once in awhile I have the chance to take a little father-son walk with my 10-year-old. Sometimes we talk about little things of little consequence. Sometimes we talk about big things that matter a lot to him. Other times we just play silly word games.
Often, though, he asks me what I've been doing at work lately. I don't remember ever asking my dad what he did at work. I knew he was a computer analyst with the Government of Canada, but I had no idea what that meant and I wasn't all that interested in finding out.
So I'm grateful that my son takes an interest in what I do all day. I told him I was working on a speech for a conservation association dinner in New Brunswick. They're very concerned about Atlantic salmon populations in the Miramichi River. He said he thought it sounded pretty important and I agreed that it probably was.
Then he told me that it's too bad the speechwriters don't receive some sort of recognition when the speaker delivers the speech. I explained to him that our job is to help the speaker sound good and deliver the right message. If the speaker or someone else in the organization expresses kind words about the product, that's all the recognition that we need.
He said he guessed so, but then he asked me if other people write their own speeches. I told him President Obama or Prime Minister Harper would have writers who work closely with them and almost nobody really knows or cares who they are.
I discussed how someone like the President and his speechwriters would likely work together to help him deliver the message he wants to convey. I said that if he wants to get across the message that his government has everything under control, the President can't just stand up there and say, "Everything's under control!" He has to use the right words and tone to convey the FEELING that everything is under control. This is how some politicians live or die on what comes out of their mouths and how it comes out of their mouths. It's one reason why so many politicians don't aspire to great oratory anymore. The nature of the news media in the 21st century is another. Politics no longer rewards risk-taking and bold statements so much as it rewards not screwing up.
I told my son that many of the great public figures of the past, like Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King and Winston Churchill, wrote their own speeches. I reminded him that King was first and foremost a minister of religion who had both training in, and a natural gift for, public speaking - a sense of rhythm that made his words come to life in a way that no other speaker could. All the great speakers have a way of making the speech their own. A great speaker knows his or her strengths and weaknesses and is able to use both to good effect.
When I said "rhythm" to my musically precocious son he started making hip-hop noises with his mouth and did a rap to "I have a dream." I explained that rhythm in this case means something a little more complex but just as captivating, if not more so.
We discussed why another person might not be able to pull off the "I have a dream" speech, just like another speaker might not be able to do justice to Churchill's "what is our aim?" or even Nixon's "Checkers" speech.
This is why the writer needs to know the speaker's strengths and weaknesses as well as the speaker does. I once worked for a Cabinet Minister who was a very good speaker in a folksy sort of way, but couldn't or wouldn't attempt anything more than a word or two in a foreign language. Writing speeches for a trip to Russia, I inserted an entire paragraph in of Russian. When it came back from his office for revisions, everything but "spasiba" (thank you) had been crossed out. He wasn't going to look silly tripping over a whole paragraph's worth of foreign words and, in hindsight, I don't blame him.
I have always enjoyed writing for speakers who enjoy public speaking and give a lot of thought to what they're saying, to whom they're saying it, and why. The first question I ask when I sit down with program experts to discuss a speech is something along the lines of "why is the Minister speaking and what are we trying to accomplish?"
This is something else all the great speakers have - a sense of purpose. Every speech has a purpose, however grandiose or humble. The job of the writer is to find out what it is and make sure it accomplishes its goal.
Often, though, he asks me what I've been doing at work lately. I don't remember ever asking my dad what he did at work. I knew he was a computer analyst with the Government of Canada, but I had no idea what that meant and I wasn't all that interested in finding out.
So I'm grateful that my son takes an interest in what I do all day. I told him I was working on a speech for a conservation association dinner in New Brunswick. They're very concerned about Atlantic salmon populations in the Miramichi River. He said he thought it sounded pretty important and I agreed that it probably was.
Then he told me that it's too bad the speechwriters don't receive some sort of recognition when the speaker delivers the speech. I explained to him that our job is to help the speaker sound good and deliver the right message. If the speaker or someone else in the organization expresses kind words about the product, that's all the recognition that we need.
He said he guessed so, but then he asked me if other people write their own speeches. I told him President Obama or Prime Minister Harper would have writers who work closely with them and almost nobody really knows or cares who they are.
I discussed how someone like the President and his speechwriters would likely work together to help him deliver the message he wants to convey. I said that if he wants to get across the message that his government has everything under control, the President can't just stand up there and say, "Everything's under control!" He has to use the right words and tone to convey the FEELING that everything is under control. This is how some politicians live or die on what comes out of their mouths and how it comes out of their mouths. It's one reason why so many politicians don't aspire to great oratory anymore. The nature of the news media in the 21st century is another. Politics no longer rewards risk-taking and bold statements so much as it rewards not screwing up.
I told my son that many of the great public figures of the past, like Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King and Winston Churchill, wrote their own speeches. I reminded him that King was first and foremost a minister of religion who had both training in, and a natural gift for, public speaking - a sense of rhythm that made his words come to life in a way that no other speaker could. All the great speakers have a way of making the speech their own. A great speaker knows his or her strengths and weaknesses and is able to use both to good effect.
When I said "rhythm" to my musically precocious son he started making hip-hop noises with his mouth and did a rap to "I have a dream." I explained that rhythm in this case means something a little more complex but just as captivating, if not more so.
We discussed why another person might not be able to pull off the "I have a dream" speech, just like another speaker might not be able to do justice to Churchill's "what is our aim?" or even Nixon's "Checkers" speech.
This is why the writer needs to know the speaker's strengths and weaknesses as well as the speaker does. I once worked for a Cabinet Minister who was a very good speaker in a folksy sort of way, but couldn't or wouldn't attempt anything more than a word or two in a foreign language. Writing speeches for a trip to Russia, I inserted an entire paragraph in of Russian. When it came back from his office for revisions, everything but "spasiba" (thank you) had been crossed out. He wasn't going to look silly tripping over a whole paragraph's worth of foreign words and, in hindsight, I don't blame him.
I have always enjoyed writing for speakers who enjoy public speaking and give a lot of thought to what they're saying, to whom they're saying it, and why. The first question I ask when I sit down with program experts to discuss a speech is something along the lines of "why is the Minister speaking and what are we trying to accomplish?"
This is something else all the great speakers have - a sense of purpose. Every speech has a purpose, however grandiose or humble. The job of the writer is to find out what it is and make sure it accomplishes its goal.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Buying and Selling a House: Ten Days Without a Net
Some people drink or smoke too much; some people like to drive fast or go in for extreme sports. When my wife and I need a thrill we put our house on the market.
For some reason we both have a history of moving around a lot, both before and after we were married.
When we were first married in 1999, we lived in a rented duplex for 10 months, then bought a home in Aylmer, Quebec, a suburb of Ottawa where housing is less expensive. We were there for three years and three months, then moved downtown to be closer to my work, since I was in TV news and working crazy hours.
We lived in an urban co-op for almost two years, then bought a house in a suburb in the far west end of Ottawa. It took us about 18 months to decide we disliked the community (or lack of same) and found a beautiful place on the top of a steep hill out in the woods. Although beautiful, there were things we never really thought about previously - like irrational fears about our well and septic system, the costs of hiring a plowing service for the winter months, the commute and, finally, the hill itself, which forced us to buy a four-wheel-drive and still left us stranded when we had a heavy snow or freezing rain. The hill was also a disincentive for people to come and visit in the winter months. In Ottawa, that’s about four or five months out of the year.
We were there for almost exactly a year, then came to an urban area not far from downtown. We have been in this place for nearly four years, which is a record for us.
But circumstances change and with my son’s music getting very serious, we decided it was time to re-evaluate our finances. This led to the decision to reduce the size of our mortgage by moving to a less expensive part of town.
We didn’t want to go back to another plain old suburb. Luckily, we found a place that’s not too old, not too expensive and not too far from the urban core. So we called a real estate agent, put in an offer, and got ready to list our house.
These days, selling a house involves something called staging, which seems to mean making your house look like a work of art. Now people don’t normally live in works of art, they just look at them. There are certainly no dish racks or wet toothbrushes in most works of art, so we had to excise these things from view. The same went for any evidence that we might read books, have hobbies, produce garbage or take family pictures.
Since we live in a neighbourhood that is becoming more desirable, our house saw a lot of traffic - well over a dozen people in less than 36 hours. On the second day of showings we received an offer that was to our liking and five days later, after the home inspection, we’ve sold our house.
Having a good agent makes all the difference in the world, and we hired a couple of the best: Patrick Morris and Rob Kearns from the Morris Home Team.
Buying your first home is nothing like having to buy and sell at the same time. You have to make a choice: buy a place and hope that your old house sells fast, or sell your place and hope you find a new place fast. Both are incredibly stressful, especially if your bank is not willing to let you hold two mortgages at once. Fortunately, mine is, so at least I wasn’t going to be sued for breach of contract. But the selling doesn’t always go as smoothly as all that. In fact, a couple of times in the past we wondered if our house would ever be sold at all. There was a time during this sale when we thought the purchase agreement might fall apart too and we would have to start showing it all over again.
To the passing observer it would appear that our family changes houses on impulse, with very little forethought. But every move we’ve made has been for a very good reason - occasionally for many good reasons.
Sometimes in communications it’s a hard thing to shake things up and try to change the established order. You shouldn’t do it just for sake of change - there has to be a reason, maybe more than one. This is why you should always be examining the way you do things and looking for opportunities to improve. Maybe most of what you’re doing is good, even excellent, and there’s no need to change anything. Maybe it’s going well but you can see potential issues down the road. If so, take steps now to prepare for them. Then again, maybe your shop really does need a major shake-up. If this is the case, it’s only a matter of time before someone with the power to hire and fire takes notice. Then it’s better to be on record as the shaker or else you could end up as the shakee.
And that could leave you living without a net for a lot longer than the time it takes to sell a house.
For some reason we both have a history of moving around a lot, both before and after we were married.
When we were first married in 1999, we lived in a rented duplex for 10 months, then bought a home in Aylmer, Quebec, a suburb of Ottawa where housing is less expensive. We were there for three years and three months, then moved downtown to be closer to my work, since I was in TV news and working crazy hours.
We lived in an urban co-op for almost two years, then bought a house in a suburb in the far west end of Ottawa. It took us about 18 months to decide we disliked the community (or lack of same) and found a beautiful place on the top of a steep hill out in the woods. Although beautiful, there were things we never really thought about previously - like irrational fears about our well and septic system, the costs of hiring a plowing service for the winter months, the commute and, finally, the hill itself, which forced us to buy a four-wheel-drive and still left us stranded when we had a heavy snow or freezing rain. The hill was also a disincentive for people to come and visit in the winter months. In Ottawa, that’s about four or five months out of the year.
We were there for almost exactly a year, then came to an urban area not far from downtown. We have been in this place for nearly four years, which is a record for us.
But circumstances change and with my son’s music getting very serious, we decided it was time to re-evaluate our finances. This led to the decision to reduce the size of our mortgage by moving to a less expensive part of town.
We didn’t want to go back to another plain old suburb. Luckily, we found a place that’s not too old, not too expensive and not too far from the urban core. So we called a real estate agent, put in an offer, and got ready to list our house.
These days, selling a house involves something called staging, which seems to mean making your house look like a work of art. Now people don’t normally live in works of art, they just look at them. There are certainly no dish racks or wet toothbrushes in most works of art, so we had to excise these things from view. The same went for any evidence that we might read books, have hobbies, produce garbage or take family pictures.
Since we live in a neighbourhood that is becoming more desirable, our house saw a lot of traffic - well over a dozen people in less than 36 hours. On the second day of showings we received an offer that was to our liking and five days later, after the home inspection, we’ve sold our house.
Having a good agent makes all the difference in the world, and we hired a couple of the best: Patrick Morris and Rob Kearns from the Morris Home Team.
Buying your first home is nothing like having to buy and sell at the same time. You have to make a choice: buy a place and hope that your old house sells fast, or sell your place and hope you find a new place fast. Both are incredibly stressful, especially if your bank is not willing to let you hold two mortgages at once. Fortunately, mine is, so at least I wasn’t going to be sued for breach of contract. But the selling doesn’t always go as smoothly as all that. In fact, a couple of times in the past we wondered if our house would ever be sold at all. There was a time during this sale when we thought the purchase agreement might fall apart too and we would have to start showing it all over again.
To the passing observer it would appear that our family changes houses on impulse, with very little forethought. But every move we’ve made has been for a very good reason - occasionally for many good reasons.
Sometimes in communications it’s a hard thing to shake things up and try to change the established order. You shouldn’t do it just for sake of change - there has to be a reason, maybe more than one. This is why you should always be examining the way you do things and looking for opportunities to improve. Maybe most of what you’re doing is good, even excellent, and there’s no need to change anything. Maybe it’s going well but you can see potential issues down the road. If so, take steps now to prepare for them. Then again, maybe your shop really does need a major shake-up. If this is the case, it’s only a matter of time before someone with the power to hire and fire takes notice. Then it’s better to be on record as the shaker or else you could end up as the shakee.
And that could leave you living without a net for a lot longer than the time it takes to sell a house.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Professional Development
I love learning new things, which is why I appreciate any opportunity for professional development. Even though I've been working as a strategic communicator in some capacity for years, and I’ve taken courses on internal communications, change communications, and even interpersonal communications, I’ve never had the chance to study how to be a better strategic thinker and communicator.
Fortunately, I’ve always had good instincts, but I have been looking for an opportunity to work on my analytical side for quite some time. Last week I finally got my chance when I attended the Strategic Communications Planning workshop at the Centre for Excellence in Communications, led by David Kardish, a highly respected communicator with extensive government, NGO and corporate experience.
During the two-day course we studied the various elements that go into the development of a strategic communications plan, from issue-identification to determining desired outcomes to position statements. We used a combination of lecture, give-and-take and group work on scenarios to learn the various elements of a good communications strategy.
At the start of the first morning, the 10 participants were asked to introduce themselves and tell the class what they hoped to get out of the course. I was surprised that there were at least two people besides me who basically said they know they can trust their instincts but sometimes have a harder time getting buy-in for their ideas. We were all looking for a logical progression to follow that would help us to justify our proposals. I was pleased, but not surprised (I’ve taken two courses with the Centre for Excellence in Communications already), to walk out after Day Two with tools that I can use right away to help me in my day-to-day and longer-term communications planning. In particular, I began to see how I can build a speech outline in similar fashion to the way one might create a communications strategy and create a much better speech.
Any time you put 10 strangers, especially communications people, in a room together for two days, there is great potential for conflict, chaos and confusion. To everyone’s credit, all of the students were highly focused and together we created some really good ideas in the scenarios.
The most important thing now is to find a way to use what I’ve learned as soon as possible so it stays fresh for me and moves beyond the theoretical to the real world. About a year and a half ago I attended the Internal Communications Master Class with Jim Ylisela and I came home feeling energized and motivated to put all my new ideas into practice. Then, when I started proposing these bold new ideas, I kept getting shot down (no budget, no bandwidth, we’ve never done it that way before, etc.).
This course is something I can use right away with the tools that are already at my disposal. I can’t wait to get going.
Fortunately, I’ve always had good instincts, but I have been looking for an opportunity to work on my analytical side for quite some time. Last week I finally got my chance when I attended the Strategic Communications Planning workshop at the Centre for Excellence in Communications, led by David Kardish, a highly respected communicator with extensive government, NGO and corporate experience.
During the two-day course we studied the various elements that go into the development of a strategic communications plan, from issue-identification to determining desired outcomes to position statements. We used a combination of lecture, give-and-take and group work on scenarios to learn the various elements of a good communications strategy.
At the start of the first morning, the 10 participants were asked to introduce themselves and tell the class what they hoped to get out of the course. I was surprised that there were at least two people besides me who basically said they know they can trust their instincts but sometimes have a harder time getting buy-in for their ideas. We were all looking for a logical progression to follow that would help us to justify our proposals. I was pleased, but not surprised (I’ve taken two courses with the Centre for Excellence in Communications already), to walk out after Day Two with tools that I can use right away to help me in my day-to-day and longer-term communications planning. In particular, I began to see how I can build a speech outline in similar fashion to the way one might create a communications strategy and create a much better speech.
Any time you put 10 strangers, especially communications people, in a room together for two days, there is great potential for conflict, chaos and confusion. To everyone’s credit, all of the students were highly focused and together we created some really good ideas in the scenarios.
The most important thing now is to find a way to use what I’ve learned as soon as possible so it stays fresh for me and moves beyond the theoretical to the real world. About a year and a half ago I attended the Internal Communications Master Class with Jim Ylisela and I came home feeling energized and motivated to put all my new ideas into practice. Then, when I started proposing these bold new ideas, I kept getting shot down (no budget, no bandwidth, we’ve never done it that way before, etc.).
This course is something I can use right away with the tools that are already at my disposal. I can’t wait to get going.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Uh-Huh
Having just spent a month in the United States, I’ve had a chance to catch up on one of my favorite activities - considering regional and national variations on English.
When I started my blog I made a conscious decision to use American spellings. This makes it easier for American readers to follow me without the needless distraction of unfamiliar spellings. Canadian readers have been exposed to American spellings for so long that most of us barely notice whether we’re reading one or the other.
Canadian and British English use the letter “u” more often in their writing. We write words like honor, labour and valor as honour, labour and valour. Many words that Americans spell with an “er” suffix end with “re” in Canada and Great Britain. I’m thinking now of words like theater and center (theatre and centre).
Apparently this is because Canada never severed its connection to Great Britain in as dramatic a fashion as the US did. As a consequence, we were exposed to more English writing for longer and by the time written English started to become standardized the American and British spellings had diverged.
Interestingly, Canadians didn’t adopt all British spellings. For instance, we don’t spell “encyclopedia” as “encyclopaedia” and we don’t spell “fetus” as “foetus.” But there are differences nonetheless.
Americans do something else that Canadians don’t. They say ‘uh-huh.” Canadians might say “mm-hmm” to mean yes, and we use “eh” the same way Americans use “huh.” But Americans don’t just use “uh-huh” to say “yes.” They also use it to say “you’re welcome.”
I say this with a great deal of affection, because I love Americans. I find they’re generally more open and friendly than Canadians. In fact, the day we came home from our trip we went to Wendy’s for lunch and then went out shopping for groceries. The culture shock of experiencing indifferent or even rude retail staff in Canada after frequenting American businesses for almost five weeks was palpable.
So I mean no malice or disrespect when I say this, but almost every time we said “thank you” to anybody for any reason, we received “uh-huh” in reply. It’s one of those things that Emily Post might not like but, to us, it was as polite as anything because it was friendly and genuine. Sometimes we’re just happy to be acknowledged.
Americans lengthen their vowel sounds considerably compared to Canadian and British speakers. For instance, to the American ear a Canadian pronounces “about” as “aboot.” To us it just sounds like “about.” But to a Canadian, the American pronunciation comes out as “abowt.” Americans say “ba-nah-na” and the British say “ba-naw-na.” Canadians say it somewhere in between.
I shouldn’t generalize too much though, because there are far more regional accents in the United States, or Great Britain, for that matter, than there are in Canada. In Canada you’ll find the most prominent regional accents in Newfoundland, Cape Breton Island, among the English speakers of Quebec’s Eastern Townships and Montreal, in the Ottawa Valley and in Toronto and southern Ontario. In most other parts of Canada, the accent is virtually identical.
In the United States you’ll find that many variations throughout the southern states alone. In the UK, you’ll find more variations within a couple hours’ drive of London.
I’m not entirely sure why there are so few regional accents in Canada, but I suspect it’s because most of those who settled the Canadian west were either transplanted Ontarians or new immigrants who learned to speak English from these same Ontarians.
I remember seeing a TV show once about English and they looked in on an elocution class where Canadian actors are learning how to lose their Canuck accents and sound more American. I find myself lengthening my vowels when I spend a long period of time in the States. I also adapt to the distinctive regional accent of my cousins in Quebec’s Eastern Townships when I visit there. I do believe I’m a bit of a chameleon that way, although I still have a hard time not saying “eh.”
As a writer it’s tremendously important to be aware of such regional, national and cultural differences. As I mentioned, I choose to use American spellings in my blog. But at work I use Canadian spellings and when editing must ensure that other writers do as well.
If you truly want to connect with your audience, you need to speak - and write - their language, because in the end, even when we all speak the same language, we don’t.
When I started my blog I made a conscious decision to use American spellings. This makes it easier for American readers to follow me without the needless distraction of unfamiliar spellings. Canadian readers have been exposed to American spellings for so long that most of us barely notice whether we’re reading one or the other.
Canadian and British English use the letter “u” more often in their writing. We write words like honor, labour and valor as honour, labour and valour. Many words that Americans spell with an “er” suffix end with “re” in Canada and Great Britain. I’m thinking now of words like theater and center (theatre and centre).
Apparently this is because Canada never severed its connection to Great Britain in as dramatic a fashion as the US did. As a consequence, we were exposed to more English writing for longer and by the time written English started to become standardized the American and British spellings had diverged.
Interestingly, Canadians didn’t adopt all British spellings. For instance, we don’t spell “encyclopedia” as “encyclopaedia” and we don’t spell “fetus” as “foetus.” But there are differences nonetheless.
Americans do something else that Canadians don’t. They say ‘uh-huh.” Canadians might say “mm-hmm” to mean yes, and we use “eh” the same way Americans use “huh.” But Americans don’t just use “uh-huh” to say “yes.” They also use it to say “you’re welcome.”
I say this with a great deal of affection, because I love Americans. I find they’re generally more open and friendly than Canadians. In fact, the day we came home from our trip we went to Wendy’s for lunch and then went out shopping for groceries. The culture shock of experiencing indifferent or even rude retail staff in Canada after frequenting American businesses for almost five weeks was palpable.
So I mean no malice or disrespect when I say this, but almost every time we said “thank you” to anybody for any reason, we received “uh-huh” in reply. It’s one of those things that Emily Post might not like but, to us, it was as polite as anything because it was friendly and genuine. Sometimes we’re just happy to be acknowledged.
Americans lengthen their vowel sounds considerably compared to Canadian and British speakers. For instance, to the American ear a Canadian pronounces “about” as “aboot.” To us it just sounds like “about.” But to a Canadian, the American pronunciation comes out as “abowt.” Americans say “ba-nah-na” and the British say “ba-naw-na.” Canadians say it somewhere in between.
I shouldn’t generalize too much though, because there are far more regional accents in the United States, or Great Britain, for that matter, than there are in Canada. In Canada you’ll find the most prominent regional accents in Newfoundland, Cape Breton Island, among the English speakers of Quebec’s Eastern Townships and Montreal, in the Ottawa Valley and in Toronto and southern Ontario. In most other parts of Canada, the accent is virtually identical.
In the United States you’ll find that many variations throughout the southern states alone. In the UK, you’ll find more variations within a couple hours’ drive of London.
I’m not entirely sure why there are so few regional accents in Canada, but I suspect it’s because most of those who settled the Canadian west were either transplanted Ontarians or new immigrants who learned to speak English from these same Ontarians.
I remember seeing a TV show once about English and they looked in on an elocution class where Canadian actors are learning how to lose their Canuck accents and sound more American. I find myself lengthening my vowels when I spend a long period of time in the States. I also adapt to the distinctive regional accent of my cousins in Quebec’s Eastern Townships when I visit there. I do believe I’m a bit of a chameleon that way, although I still have a hard time not saying “eh.”
As a writer it’s tremendously important to be aware of such regional, national and cultural differences. As I mentioned, I choose to use American spellings in my blog. But at work I use Canadian spellings and when editing must ensure that other writers do as well.
If you truly want to connect with your audience, you need to speak - and write - their language, because in the end, even when we all speak the same language, we don’t.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
I Write Like Who??!
I saw an article on cnn.com last week that analyzes your writing and tells you which famous author you write like. It’s called I Write Like …
The deal is, you paste a paragraph or two of something you’ve written onto the page and click “enter,” and it gives you the name of a famous author your work is supposed to resemble. The creator of the page is apparently some computer guy from Russia. He doesn’t make any claims about the accuracy of the results - it’s supposed to be fun and in its own strange way it is.
I’ve taken bits of pieces from this blog and gotten results saying I write like Kurt Vonnegut, H.P. Lovecraft and Steven King, among others. I don’t seem to write like John Irving or Philip Roth, which is unfortunate. Does that mean I’m versatile, inconsistent or just hard to pin down?
I entered bits and pieces from a few other blogs I follow into one window and gotten back James Joyce’s style. Does that mean that anything disjointed should be interpreted as Joyceian?
I wonder what would happen if I entered something by a famous author - like say, John Irving. Would it say that John Irving writes like John Irving?
Maybe the next step would be a site with voice-recognition capabilities that would tell you who you speak like. Would you rather be an Obama or a Palin? MLK or Malcolm X? Kennedy or Reagan? I can see (or hear) it now.
The deal is, you paste a paragraph or two of something you’ve written onto the page and click “enter,” and it gives you the name of a famous author your work is supposed to resemble. The creator of the page is apparently some computer guy from Russia. He doesn’t make any claims about the accuracy of the results - it’s supposed to be fun and in its own strange way it is.
I’ve taken bits of pieces from this blog and gotten results saying I write like Kurt Vonnegut, H.P. Lovecraft and Steven King, among others. I don’t seem to write like John Irving or Philip Roth, which is unfortunate. Does that mean I’m versatile, inconsistent or just hard to pin down?
I entered bits and pieces from a few other blogs I follow into one window and gotten back James Joyce’s style. Does that mean that anything disjointed should be interpreted as Joyceian?
I wonder what would happen if I entered something by a famous author - like say, John Irving. Would it say that John Irving writes like John Irving?
Maybe the next step would be a site with voice-recognition capabilities that would tell you who you speak like. Would you rather be an Obama or a Palin? MLK or Malcolm X? Kennedy or Reagan? I can see (or hear) it now.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
How Speechwriting Will Save your Bacon
Several years ago, when I wanted to get out of the broadcasting industry, a speechwriting unit provided my entree into corporate communications. Since that time, speechwriting has often been my primary role and it has always been a big part of my work.
There have been times when my position was tenuous due to circumstances beyond my control, such as changes in governments or departmental restructuring. There have also been times when I was the one who wanted out of a particular situation. In every instance, speechwriting has saved my bacon.
This is because there are a lot of very good writers who can’t write a speech to save their lives (or their bacon). In other words, good speechwriters are hard to find.
The good news is, speechwriters are made as much as they are born. Many people who don’t think they have a knack for speeches just haven’t figured out how to do them.
There are numerous articles and books about speechwriting, and many training providers will teach you the rudiments. I’m going to try to add a little bit extra from my own experiences.
The first leg on the journey toward really good speechwriting is reading and listening to really good speeches. Don’t concern yourself with whether you agree with the speaker’s thesis or politics. Just think about the elements that make it a good speech. Learn what makes a word or a phrase sound good out loud. Some people have a better feel for this than others, but it comes down to listening, reading out loud and practicing.
Don’t give your speaker long sentences. She needs to breathe between sentences, not in the middle of them. Don’t give your speaker words with which he himself is not familiar. They will sound unnatural and will be prone to mispronunciation.
Don’t shy away from literary devices like alliteration; in fact, you should embrace anything that will make your words come to life and stick in people’s minds. Pay attention to rhythm and pacing too.
Read Shakespeare - this is good advice for any writer in any genre, but speechwriters should read him out loud.
Know what you want the speech to accomplish and state the purpose of your speech clearly at the outset. Otherwise your audience will be distracted by wondering why they are there.
There are, of course, exceptions to every rule, and one that comes to mind immediately is Ronald Reagan’s 1987 speech at the Brandenburg Gate in a divided Berlin. He started out speaking about the history of Berlin and its dual status during the Cold War as a beacon of freedom and a symbol of oppression.
As he went on, Reagan talked about the failures of Communism - no new ground here. Then he came out with the most audacious demand imaginable in its time: “Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate; Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall! There was no hint during the speech of what Reagan was leading up to. But since the speech up to then was short and to the point, people were still listening when he got there.
This brings me to something else that’s important - be sure to include just a few short, simple, key messages that people will easily remember and take home with them. Generally, if people remember just two or three lines that a speaker delivered during the course of a speech, then the speech has accomplished its purpose. Think of lines like, “I have a dream;” “blood, toil, tears and sweat;” “a day which will live in infamy.”
The moment doesn’t have to be one of great gravity either. Here’s a line that one of my colleagues wrote for an internal event at work for World Oceans Day:
"Oceans that are cleaner, safer, better understood and better protected for generations to come."
You should also know something of the history and stucture of the language in which you write (see my previous blog post on this topic). This will help you to determine word choice, which is an important factor in setting the right tone for your speech.
Don’t fret over what you can’t control. In a perfect world you have regular access to your speaker. When I was working for the Mounties, I had a monthly meeting with the Commissioner to discuss all of his upcoming engagements. This is not the way the real world normally operates. You probably won’t have access to your speaker, so try to listen to recordings of her previous speeches to get a feel for how she likes to talk and phrases she likes to use. Whenever possible, go listen to the speeches in person.
Don’t write jokes into a speech. If your speaker wants to tell a joke, it’s better that she tell one of her own. she’s not a professional comedian and you’re not a gag writer. Both are specialized skills and there’s a reason these people do what they do and not what you do.
Finally, remember that it’s not your speech. Once the podium copy is the hands of the CEO, it’s HIS speech. He has to deliver it and he may alter it any which way to suit his mood or his audience.
These tips have all worked for me. Other writers might have other gems of information that will help you learn this specialized skill. In the end it comes down to knowing yourself and using what you think will work for you.
Good luck.
There have been times when my position was tenuous due to circumstances beyond my control, such as changes in governments or departmental restructuring. There have also been times when I was the one who wanted out of a particular situation. In every instance, speechwriting has saved my bacon.
This is because there are a lot of very good writers who can’t write a speech to save their lives (or their bacon). In other words, good speechwriters are hard to find.
The good news is, speechwriters are made as much as they are born. Many people who don’t think they have a knack for speeches just haven’t figured out how to do them.
There are numerous articles and books about speechwriting, and many training providers will teach you the rudiments. I’m going to try to add a little bit extra from my own experiences.
The first leg on the journey toward really good speechwriting is reading and listening to really good speeches. Don’t concern yourself with whether you agree with the speaker’s thesis or politics. Just think about the elements that make it a good speech. Learn what makes a word or a phrase sound good out loud. Some people have a better feel for this than others, but it comes down to listening, reading out loud and practicing.
Don’t give your speaker long sentences. She needs to breathe between sentences, not in the middle of them. Don’t give your speaker words with which he himself is not familiar. They will sound unnatural and will be prone to mispronunciation.
Don’t shy away from literary devices like alliteration; in fact, you should embrace anything that will make your words come to life and stick in people’s minds. Pay attention to rhythm and pacing too.
Read Shakespeare - this is good advice for any writer in any genre, but speechwriters should read him out loud.
Know what you want the speech to accomplish and state the purpose of your speech clearly at the outset. Otherwise your audience will be distracted by wondering why they are there.
There are, of course, exceptions to every rule, and one that comes to mind immediately is Ronald Reagan’s 1987 speech at the Brandenburg Gate in a divided Berlin. He started out speaking about the history of Berlin and its dual status during the Cold War as a beacon of freedom and a symbol of oppression.
As he went on, Reagan talked about the failures of Communism - no new ground here. Then he came out with the most audacious demand imaginable in its time: “Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate; Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall! There was no hint during the speech of what Reagan was leading up to. But since the speech up to then was short and to the point, people were still listening when he got there.
This brings me to something else that’s important - be sure to include just a few short, simple, key messages that people will easily remember and take home with them. Generally, if people remember just two or three lines that a speaker delivered during the course of a speech, then the speech has accomplished its purpose. Think of lines like, “I have a dream;” “blood, toil, tears and sweat;” “a day which will live in infamy.”
The moment doesn’t have to be one of great gravity either. Here’s a line that one of my colleagues wrote for an internal event at work for World Oceans Day:
"Oceans that are cleaner, safer, better understood and better protected for generations to come."
You should also know something of the history and stucture of the language in which you write (see my previous blog post on this topic). This will help you to determine word choice, which is an important factor in setting the right tone for your speech.
Don’t fret over what you can’t control. In a perfect world you have regular access to your speaker. When I was working for the Mounties, I had a monthly meeting with the Commissioner to discuss all of his upcoming engagements. This is not the way the real world normally operates. You probably won’t have access to your speaker, so try to listen to recordings of her previous speeches to get a feel for how she likes to talk and phrases she likes to use. Whenever possible, go listen to the speeches in person.
Don’t write jokes into a speech. If your speaker wants to tell a joke, it’s better that she tell one of her own. she’s not a professional comedian and you’re not a gag writer. Both are specialized skills and there’s a reason these people do what they do and not what you do.
Finally, remember that it’s not your speech. Once the podium copy is the hands of the CEO, it’s HIS speech. He has to deliver it and he may alter it any which way to suit his mood or his audience.
These tips have all worked for me. Other writers might have other gems of information that will help you learn this specialized skill. In the end it comes down to knowing yourself and using what you think will work for you.
Good luck.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Anglo-Saxon: The Language that gets Results
I have always loved the versatility of English - how we can have numerous words that mean the same but that have different uses depending on your audience, the intent of your message and the tone you want to project. New words seem to be invented every day, and every culture that comes into contact with English enriches the language by providing speakers with additional words like manga, algebra and pajama.
But at the heart of English is the constant tension between Latin and Anglo-Saxon, dating back to the Norman invasion of 1066. The Norman King William and his descendants spoke French, which is rooted in Latin, while the commoners continued to speak Old English, which developed from the language of the Germanic tribes, particularly the Angles and the Saxons.
Now I'm neither an historian nor a linguist, but I do know a little about the impact of various words. Consciously or not, we tend to use Latin and Anglo-Saxon words in different ways and for different purposes, and these word choices go back to the fact that after 1066 the aristocrats spoke French while the plebes spoke Old (and later Middle) English.
To this day, when people want to sound intelligent or cultured they're likely to choose the Latin-rooted words over the Anglo-Saxon ones. They won't give you a drink, but they will offer a beverage; they may not believe in luck, but they realize that certain people are more fortunate than other folks.
I use a lot of Latin-based words myself, when it makes sense to do so; good writers will use every tool available to get their point across. I try, however, to resist the urge to use certain words just to impress someone with my vocabulary. Sometimes the Latin word is the best one for the circumstance.
When you want to get something done, though, you really need to pull out the Anglo-Saxon words. They're the action words. When you're drowning, you don't request assistance, you yell, "HELP!" It's automatic. It's instinctive.
Many writers forget their natural instincts and go for the ten-dollar words. Some even have conversations with themselves along the following lines:
"Hmmm, what's another way to say 'I'm happy to be here.'?"
"I know, how about 'it is a pleasure to be here.'?"
"Yeah, that's better. I'll use that!"
We're terrible that way, and this tendency to show off does us no favors. I don't know how many English words there are right now. I know it's a lot. Apparently Shakespeare alone added about 300,000 words to the language. Many of them are no longer in common use, and have limited value for that reason. But we still have a very large palette with which to paint our word-pictures. We should never shortchange ourselves by avoiding the shorter, simpler words. In fact, we should embrace them. They're the workhorses, the ones we call on when we need to get something done.
They deserve our respect.
But at the heart of English is the constant tension between Latin and Anglo-Saxon, dating back to the Norman invasion of 1066. The Norman King William and his descendants spoke French, which is rooted in Latin, while the commoners continued to speak Old English, which developed from the language of the Germanic tribes, particularly the Angles and the Saxons.
Now I'm neither an historian nor a linguist, but I do know a little about the impact of various words. Consciously or not, we tend to use Latin and Anglo-Saxon words in different ways and for different purposes, and these word choices go back to the fact that after 1066 the aristocrats spoke French while the plebes spoke Old (and later Middle) English.
To this day, when people want to sound intelligent or cultured they're likely to choose the Latin-rooted words over the Anglo-Saxon ones. They won't give you a drink, but they will offer a beverage; they may not believe in luck, but they realize that certain people are more fortunate than other folks.
I use a lot of Latin-based words myself, when it makes sense to do so; good writers will use every tool available to get their point across. I try, however, to resist the urge to use certain words just to impress someone with my vocabulary. Sometimes the Latin word is the best one for the circumstance.
When you want to get something done, though, you really need to pull out the Anglo-Saxon words. They're the action words. When you're drowning, you don't request assistance, you yell, "HELP!" It's automatic. It's instinctive.
Many writers forget their natural instincts and go for the ten-dollar words. Some even have conversations with themselves along the following lines:
"Hmmm, what's another way to say 'I'm happy to be here.'?"
"I know, how about 'it is a pleasure to be here.'?"
"Yeah, that's better. I'll use that!"
We're terrible that way, and this tendency to show off does us no favors. I don't know how many English words there are right now. I know it's a lot. Apparently Shakespeare alone added about 300,000 words to the language. Many of them are no longer in common use, and have limited value for that reason. But we still have a very large palette with which to paint our word-pictures. We should never shortchange ourselves by avoiding the shorter, simpler words. In fact, we should embrace them. They're the workhorses, the ones we call on when we need to get something done.
They deserve our respect.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Write from the heart: Funerals and Memorials
Writing a speech or employee broadcast related to the death of an employee can be an intimidating assignment for any communicator. In the spirit of Memorial Day in the US, I thought I would offer my thoughts on how to handle a potentially difficult assignment.
Working as the speech writer for the Commissioner of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, it was my sad duty and professional privilege to eulogize fallen police officers on several occasions. Over time I learned that finding the right tone and having a sound structure to your product are equally crucial. You want to honor your subject sincerely and appropriately. To do that, your words have to come from the heart.
You can't fake sincerity. What you have to do, then, is make friends with the deceased: find out all you can about the person being eulogized, including family life, upbringing, work stories and the circumstances surrounding the person's death.
Was the person a sports fanatic? Did she have some involvement with a particular cause or organization? What kind of music did he listen to? Without going overboard, you should acknowledge some personal characteristics or idiosyncrasies that will make the subject real for people who didn't know him at all, and will pass muster with those who knew him best.
Was there a spouse or child left behind? What about a favorite pet? Put yourself in the place of the subject's friends and loved ones and imagine what they would be feeling during this difficult time.
Acknowledge what happened. If the individual died violently or as a result of an accident, talk about what is happening now and what will happen next to address the cause of the incident. If it was a long illness, express how she handed her illness and seek comforting words for those who were with her during her struggle.
What about those co-workers who must not only carry on with their own work, but might also be conducting an investigation or picking up the files the deceased was working on? Don't forget to acknowledge their loss.
Finally, you need to find something that will inspire everybody to keep moving forward. When I had to announce the shooting death of two officers in a remote community, our message mentioned the man who was wanted in the shootings and how pursuing justice was the finest tribute we could pay to our fallen colleagues.
Finally, thank all those employees who are left behind to carry on. They need to know that their work is valued, and that their friend and co-worker did not die in vain.
At the start of this post I called it a professional privilege to eulogize a valued colleague. It's not something you can treat like just another assignment; your subject deserves better than that. I've tried to give some advice about how to approach an assignment like this, but there's no magic formula, and there shouldn't be. The important thing to remember is that this person deserves your best effort.
Working as the speech writer for the Commissioner of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, it was my sad duty and professional privilege to eulogize fallen police officers on several occasions. Over time I learned that finding the right tone and having a sound structure to your product are equally crucial. You want to honor your subject sincerely and appropriately. To do that, your words have to come from the heart.
You can't fake sincerity. What you have to do, then, is make friends with the deceased: find out all you can about the person being eulogized, including family life, upbringing, work stories and the circumstances surrounding the person's death.
Was the person a sports fanatic? Did she have some involvement with a particular cause or organization? What kind of music did he listen to? Without going overboard, you should acknowledge some personal characteristics or idiosyncrasies that will make the subject real for people who didn't know him at all, and will pass muster with those who knew him best.
Was there a spouse or child left behind? What about a favorite pet? Put yourself in the place of the subject's friends and loved ones and imagine what they would be feeling during this difficult time.
Acknowledge what happened. If the individual died violently or as a result of an accident, talk about what is happening now and what will happen next to address the cause of the incident. If it was a long illness, express how she handed her illness and seek comforting words for those who were with her during her struggle.
What about those co-workers who must not only carry on with their own work, but might also be conducting an investigation or picking up the files the deceased was working on? Don't forget to acknowledge their loss.
Finally, you need to find something that will inspire everybody to keep moving forward. When I had to announce the shooting death of two officers in a remote community, our message mentioned the man who was wanted in the shootings and how pursuing justice was the finest tribute we could pay to our fallen colleagues.
Finally, thank all those employees who are left behind to carry on. They need to know that their work is valued, and that their friend and co-worker did not die in vain.
At the start of this post I called it a professional privilege to eulogize a valued colleague. It's not something you can treat like just another assignment; your subject deserves better than that. I've tried to give some advice about how to approach an assignment like this, but there's no magic formula, and there shouldn't be. The important thing to remember is that this person deserves your best effort.
Monday, May 17, 2010
I Wish I Could Write Music
I guess it's just human nature to never be satisfied. Although I'm not rich, I'm comfortable. I'm writing for a living, which a lot of "aspiring" writers don't ever get to do. I'm very happily married to a wonderful woman whom I love as much as life itself and who loves me with all her heart and soul. Together, we have a very pleasant, healthy, smart and talented son. So I should be satisfied, right?
But even though he's not quite ten years old, my son can do something I can't; he can write music. I don't just mean he knows where the notes go and what they sound like. I mean he can imagine tunes in his head, write them down on staff paper, and play them back on his violin or piano. And they sound good.
Naturally, I'm proud as punch about his musical gifts. But I’m envious too. This evening I was listening to the radio and Neil Young's version of the classic Canadian folk song, "Four Strong Winds," came on.
I have always loved this song, ever since I first heard it nearly 40 years ago. Being a writer, I have always been attracted to the simplicity and stark realism of the lyrics:
And if I get there before the snow flies
And if things are lookin' good
You could meet me if I send you down the fare....
But tonight I was listening to something underneath the words. I was hearing little things like the acoustic guitar going up the scale after the chorus, for instance, and the way the steel guitar joins in unobtrusively but insistently at the same time. Musicians will talk about their lyrics as complementing the music. I've always thought of it the other way around.
I once had a musician friend who wanted to me to write lyrics with him, but we could never agree on what should come first - the words or the music. I'd write lyrics and expect him to come up with a tune for them, while he'd play me a song and expect me to write words for it. In hindsight, I think his approach was probably the right one. David Byrne once said that lyrics are just a way to trick people into listening to the music, and I suspect a lot of songwriters feel the same way. Certainly, the great opera composers are more famous now than the librettists who put words to their music.
Bruce Cockburn once said of Handel that he really knew how a write a hook. And that's what it's all about, isn't it? There's a reason more people listen to pop songs than read poetry. Springsteen has great lyrics, but only because they match the music.
So what am I saying - that writing music is a more valuable skill than writing words? Not at all. If you listen to Janis Joplin's last studio album, "Pearl," there's one instrumental track called "Buried Alive in the Blues." It wasn't intended as an instrumental, but she died before she recorded the vocals and the producers decided to include it anyway. It's a nice tune, but it's still only half a song.
What I'm saying is that people with a diversity of talents sometimes need to work together to create something really special. Even though the words are simple, try to imagine a song like "Peggy Sue" as an instrumental. It just doesn't work.
As writers, we often have the privilege of partnering with designers, artists and other creative types to produce really compelling work. Maybe even musicians. We should appreciate the fact that we have a skill that can be used to enhance all kinds of media - like music.
But I still get a little jealous sometimes that I can't write my own music.
But even though he's not quite ten years old, my son can do something I can't; he can write music. I don't just mean he knows where the notes go and what they sound like. I mean he can imagine tunes in his head, write them down on staff paper, and play them back on his violin or piano. And they sound good.
Naturally, I'm proud as punch about his musical gifts. But I’m envious too. This evening I was listening to the radio and Neil Young's version of the classic Canadian folk song, "Four Strong Winds," came on.
I have always loved this song, ever since I first heard it nearly 40 years ago. Being a writer, I have always been attracted to the simplicity and stark realism of the lyrics:
And if I get there before the snow flies
And if things are lookin' good
You could meet me if I send you down the fare....
But tonight I was listening to something underneath the words. I was hearing little things like the acoustic guitar going up the scale after the chorus, for instance, and the way the steel guitar joins in unobtrusively but insistently at the same time. Musicians will talk about their lyrics as complementing the music. I've always thought of it the other way around.
I once had a musician friend who wanted to me to write lyrics with him, but we could never agree on what should come first - the words or the music. I'd write lyrics and expect him to come up with a tune for them, while he'd play me a song and expect me to write words for it. In hindsight, I think his approach was probably the right one. David Byrne once said that lyrics are just a way to trick people into listening to the music, and I suspect a lot of songwriters feel the same way. Certainly, the great opera composers are more famous now than the librettists who put words to their music.
Bruce Cockburn once said of Handel that he really knew how a write a hook. And that's what it's all about, isn't it? There's a reason more people listen to pop songs than read poetry. Springsteen has great lyrics, but only because they match the music.
So what am I saying - that writing music is a more valuable skill than writing words? Not at all. If you listen to Janis Joplin's last studio album, "Pearl," there's one instrumental track called "Buried Alive in the Blues." It wasn't intended as an instrumental, but she died before she recorded the vocals and the producers decided to include it anyway. It's a nice tune, but it's still only half a song.
What I'm saying is that people with a diversity of talents sometimes need to work together to create something really special. Even though the words are simple, try to imagine a song like "Peggy Sue" as an instrumental. It just doesn't work.
As writers, we often have the privilege of partnering with designers, artists and other creative types to produce really compelling work. Maybe even musicians. We should appreciate the fact that we have a skill that can be used to enhance all kinds of media - like music.
But I still get a little jealous sometimes that I can't write my own music.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Joy of Puns
Puns have been described as the lowest form of humor, but it's a description I have a hard time accepting.
While it's true that we often rhyme off puns without a lot of forethought, and they elicit more groans than guffaws, a really clever pun is truly a thing of beauty.
What makes a great pun great is how it brings forth other people's creative juices, leading to a whole string of hilarious puns and a laughfest, however brief, that will brighten the day of just about everyone within earshot. On the other hand, not everyone has a talent for creating them, and people without this talent don't often find them all that funny.
The other drawback is that they never seem nearly so funny in the retelling. For instance, one of my all-time favorite puns was made more than 20 years ago, by a member of an improv troupe doing a round of art puns. I still grin when I think of it, but have never dared to repeat it; the magical moment in which it was conceived disappeared just as quickly as it arrived.
One that I will repeat came to me in my early 20's when I was working on a radio comedy show with a good friend and fellow writer. I wish I knew what he's doing now, because he was really, really funny and he had a way of inspiring others to new comedic heights. Anyway, we were developing a skit centered on geology puns at the time.
Like the art puns, I don't remember every geology pun we came up with, or even who came up with what. What I do remember is that he blurted out, "You're full of schist!" I replied, "Uranium my parade."
Doesn't seem so funny now, does it? It wasn't that funny when we recorded it either. In fact, it was never as funny as the time I first blurted it out during our writing session. Maybe that's why puns don't really get the respect they deserve. Except in the hands of a professional actor or comedian, they're never as funny the second time around.
While it's true that we often rhyme off puns without a lot of forethought, and they elicit more groans than guffaws, a really clever pun is truly a thing of beauty.
What makes a great pun great is how it brings forth other people's creative juices, leading to a whole string of hilarious puns and a laughfest, however brief, that will brighten the day of just about everyone within earshot. On the other hand, not everyone has a talent for creating them, and people without this talent don't often find them all that funny.
The other drawback is that they never seem nearly so funny in the retelling. For instance, one of my all-time favorite puns was made more than 20 years ago, by a member of an improv troupe doing a round of art puns. I still grin when I think of it, but have never dared to repeat it; the magical moment in which it was conceived disappeared just as quickly as it arrived.
One that I will repeat came to me in my early 20's when I was working on a radio comedy show with a good friend and fellow writer. I wish I knew what he's doing now, because he was really, really funny and he had a way of inspiring others to new comedic heights. Anyway, we were developing a skit centered on geology puns at the time.
Like the art puns, I don't remember every geology pun we came up with, or even who came up with what. What I do remember is that he blurted out, "You're full of schist!" I replied, "Uranium my parade."
Doesn't seem so funny now, does it? It wasn't that funny when we recorded it either. In fact, it was never as funny as the time I first blurted it out during our writing session. Maybe that's why puns don't really get the respect they deserve. Except in the hands of a professional actor or comedian, they're never as funny the second time around.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Don't try to Second - Guess your Approvers
Part Two - It's you!
In my last post I talked about difficult people along the approval chain and why you should trust your own instincts and do your best work no matter what the circumstances.
Today I'm going to talk about the other side of the coin, and it's one that writers don't like to think about: The possibility that you might be part of the problem.
Sometimes when approvers re-write your material or refuse to sign off on a product even "with tracked changes," they do so because they've been burned in the past by communication specialists who don't know their subject or let their egos get in the way of accepting necessary changes.
The fact is, most of us have been that communication specialist at some time in our careers.
A couple of months into my first job in government communication, I was tasked with writing speaking notes for the Minister, who was scheduled to make an announcement concerning a major international trade initiative. Although I didn't receive enough direction on the front end, I still felt like I had done a pretty good job of it, until the director general's assistant called me up to his office. I was met at the elevator by a phalanx of international trade folks, one of whom seized my ID card and proclaimed, "It doesn't say 'poor bastard' here!"
That was my first inkling that I was going to have to do more than just a little tinkering to make the speech workable.
In the interests of brevity, I won't go into detail about what transpired over the next day and a half while I worked with the international trade folks to whip the speech into shape. But with their input and my writing skills, we arrived at something we all could be proud of.
That experience taught me two things: The first is that, as a communicator, you need to build relationships with your subject matter experts so you do receive timely guidance on products and messaging. The other is that something I might spend a few days on represents several weeks or even months of work to someone else, and I shouldn't be surprised if they have very strong feelings about it.
So the bottom line is, you should always assume that even the most difficult approvers really do have something of value to contribute. There's a good chance you're just not seeing it because all the jargon and complex language is getting in the way. Maybe you should re-examine your working relationship and see if there's a way you can demonstrate your value to the organization.
I'm not a fan of meetings just for the sake of meeting, but after this experience I started asking to attend early planning meetings to demonstrate my interest in and understanding of trade issues. Within a few months, when products bearing my name went through the international trade directorate, the director-general and the subject matter experts knew who I was, what I was capable of, and that I had treated their area with the attention and care that it deserved.
Sometimes there were still delays and changes that I thought were unnecessary, but the wholesale changes and demands for re-writes never happened again. And even though we got off on the wrong foot, our overall working relationship ended up being both positive and productive.
After all, doesn’t everybody just want to be respected for the knowledge and expertise that we bring to the table?
In my last post I talked about difficult people along the approval chain and why you should trust your own instincts and do your best work no matter what the circumstances.
Today I'm going to talk about the other side of the coin, and it's one that writers don't like to think about: The possibility that you might be part of the problem.
Sometimes when approvers re-write your material or refuse to sign off on a product even "with tracked changes," they do so because they've been burned in the past by communication specialists who don't know their subject or let their egos get in the way of accepting necessary changes.
The fact is, most of us have been that communication specialist at some time in our careers.
A couple of months into my first job in government communication, I was tasked with writing speaking notes for the Minister, who was scheduled to make an announcement concerning a major international trade initiative. Although I didn't receive enough direction on the front end, I still felt like I had done a pretty good job of it, until the director general's assistant called me up to his office. I was met at the elevator by a phalanx of international trade folks, one of whom seized my ID card and proclaimed, "It doesn't say 'poor bastard' here!"
That was my first inkling that I was going to have to do more than just a little tinkering to make the speech workable.
In the interests of brevity, I won't go into detail about what transpired over the next day and a half while I worked with the international trade folks to whip the speech into shape. But with their input and my writing skills, we arrived at something we all could be proud of.
That experience taught me two things: The first is that, as a communicator, you need to build relationships with your subject matter experts so you do receive timely guidance on products and messaging. The other is that something I might spend a few days on represents several weeks or even months of work to someone else, and I shouldn't be surprised if they have very strong feelings about it.
So the bottom line is, you should always assume that even the most difficult approvers really do have something of value to contribute. There's a good chance you're just not seeing it because all the jargon and complex language is getting in the way. Maybe you should re-examine your working relationship and see if there's a way you can demonstrate your value to the organization.
I'm not a fan of meetings just for the sake of meeting, but after this experience I started asking to attend early planning meetings to demonstrate my interest in and understanding of trade issues. Within a few months, when products bearing my name went through the international trade directorate, the director-general and the subject matter experts knew who I was, what I was capable of, and that I had treated their area with the attention and care that it deserved.
Sometimes there were still delays and changes that I thought were unnecessary, but the wholesale changes and demands for re-writes never happened again. And even though we got off on the wrong foot, our overall working relationship ended up being both positive and productive.
After all, doesn’t everybody just want to be respected for the knowledge and expertise that we bring to the table?
Friday, April 23, 2010
Don't Try to Second-Guess the Approvers
Part 1 - It's Them
If you work for a large organization, you probably have to submit your work to a series of subject matter experts, managers and executives for approval.
Some of these people are a dream to work with. They understand your role and their own; they might even be pretty good writers themselves. They can be counted on to put the product first, and don't feel a need to put their personal stamp on every item that crosses their desks. Most of the time, they stick to their areas of expertise and any changes they recommend serve to improve the product.
Then there are the others. Although they're a small minority, they take up an inordinate amount of your time. Often, they don't really know what they want or, if they do, they don't provide clear direction. So they gather their subject matter experts together and they write, and re-write, until they've said what they think they want to say. It's usually too long, too jargony and too convoluted to make sense to anyone but themselves. BUT, they're crazy about it. It's full of PhD-level terminology, buzzwords and stale turns of phrase that sound clever - at least to themselves.
It's tempting to try to head them off by writing the way we think they want us to write.
This is never a good idea.
First of all, the product will suffer if you're delivering something less than your best just to appease a small minority of people.
Also, when you second-guess your approvers this way, you're assuming they will like your convoluted, jargon-laden writing better than their own, and you're probably assuming wrong. In many cases they're not messing with your work because there's anything wrong with it, but just because they can. They may think they're not adding value if they're not putting in their two cents.
Third, if you don't like the way they write, it's a pretty good bet you're not alone. So trying to write in their style is bound to alienate more than a few of the approvers who have always supported your work and acted constructively to improve the product. This not only hurts the relationships you've built with these people, it undermines your own credibility.
If you follow your head and your instincts, you'll find that your work takes the path of least resistance through the people who always put the product first. As for the others - when you write really good copy, trusting yourself to do the best job you can and not letting yourself be defeated, some really good stuff won't make it to the final product, and that's unfortunate. But you might be surprised at what does get through. That's the communication business - an art, not a science.
In my next post I'll look at the other side of the coin - when I ask you to confront the possibility that it's you, not them.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Is it Language, or is it this Particular Language?
Having grown up with it, I feel like I have a special connection with the English language.
I love its versatility and its adaptiveness. I love how there are Anglo-Saxon words and Latin words that mean the same thing yet are used in markedly different ways, and for different reasons (I'll get to that in a future post). I love how it continues to evolve by appropriating words from every culture in which it comes into contact. I also love how other languages can return the favour by adapting English words for their own purposes.
I'm intrigued by how English speakers the world over have arrived at subtle spelling variations (notice how I spelled favour the Canadian/British way?). I also marvel at how we have given certain objects different names depending on where we are (something else I'll address down the road).
Since my knowledge of French is limited, and my knowledge of other languages even more so, the question I often ask myself is this: Do I love language because I love English, or do I love language because I love language?
I know I won't have a lot of followers for this, my very first post, but I would love to hear from any native speakers of other languages. Tell me what you love about your language. We might find a brand-new way to build bridges to all the wondrous cultures that define our collective humanness.
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