Published on June 9, 2004
The first “moving pictures” began to entertain audiences around the world almost 120 years ago. These silent films generally had ex-vaudevillians, called scenarists, come up with humorous situations for actors to perform in front of the camera. All of that changed when, in 1927, singer Al Jolson proclaimed the immortal words in the first full-length talking picture, The Jazz Singer: “Wait a minute. Wait a minute. You ain’t heard nothin’ yet.” This was actually an ad-lib by Jolson, promoting his 1919 hit song You Ain’t Heard Nothin’ Yet. At that moment, directors and film studios realized that if they expected actors to speak, they’d better hire professional writers to put words in their mouths. Suddenly actors needed something to say, and Hollywood recruited some of the nation’s best journalists and writers, including the likes of F. Scott Fitzgerald and William Faulkner, who earned as much as $1500 a week, at a time when the average salary in this country was forty dollars a month and you could get a steak dinner for 10 cents.
Published on June 9, 2004
From the moment I moved back to Iowa from Minnesota, freelancing my advertising copywriting skills was on my mind. Instead of waiting for advertising agencies to start hiring, I settled for a corporate communications job and soon confirmed that the cube farm wasn’t for me. Writing newsletters, emails and web copy was fun, but WorldCom was spiraling downward. In 2002, I was finally included in a large RIF (Reduction in Force, for the few who don’t know), and a few days later, the company’s scandal came to light. I wiped my brow in relief and focused on taking this opportunity to do what I love: write ad copy.
Published on June 9, 2004
This Week:
Published on June 2, 2004
On Sunday, we did something we’d been planning for several weeks. We moved Zach out of his room into the office on the other side of the house, and moved the office into Zach’s old room. He always has lots of friends over and his room just seemed to keep getting smaller and smaller. Now, his room is huge and is more like an apartment than a room. Richard and I even bought him a doorbell and a brass number 1 for his door. Heh… He thought that was pretty funny. Hmmm…maybe we should start charging him rent? Anyway, the best part is that his friends can now use the bathroom on the other side of the house, which is right by the backdoor, and they won’t be walking by our bedroom door anymore. No longer do I have to bump into teenage boys on my way to the bathroom at night and listen to them laughing and hollering at their video games after midnight.
Published on June 2, 2004
I received a disturbing email this week from a writer who was published, but not yet paid. You see, the publication was located in another country. They refused to pay her by check or money order and also refused to pay her via Paypal. How did they want to pay her? They requested her bank information so they could transfer the funds to her account…
Published on June 2, 2004
No letters this week.
Published on June 2, 2004
When the Pirates won the World Series in 1972, every kid within a 60-mile radius was probably a fan. But Spalding was so devoted that he put together a 250-page book about the Pirates from 1971-1975. The book was a compilation of write-ups of each game, including player information and game highlights. He contacted some of the local sportscasters, including “Wild” Bill Curry of KDKA, noted for his southern drawl and loud suits. Spalding asked him and others about publishing. “It was kind of a real adventure, calling around and discovering the sports publishing business,” he says.
Published on June 2, 2004
I had just turned 40 and decided to try and find the humor in it. There was plenty. I put together a small piece and submitted it to the Chicago Tribune. I didn’t tell a soul. Not my husband, not my three kids, and not my mother. Especially not my mother. She’s a writer.
Published on June 2, 2004
This Week:
