Guest Blogger FAIL

Another oddity from my inbox.

Here’s today’s message, with the subject “We would like to write an article for your site,” edited to remove identifying information:

Hey there,

We have been reading the articles on your website and are very impressed with the quality of your information.

We have a team of copywriters who specialize in writing articles on various topics and would like to write an original article for you to use on your website – this article will not be used anywhere else on the Internet.

In exchange all we ask is that we can have one or two links within the body of the article back to one of our sites. You can view a sample of the quality of our articles at [redacted].

If you are interested in having us write an article for your website please just let me know and we would be more than happy to have one written for you within two weeks.

Kind regards,
[redacted]

If they’re so impressed with the quality of my information, what makes them think I need a post written by someone else? Isn’t it clear that I can write my own blog posts?

And if it’s my personal blog, what makes them think I’d welcome posts from others? Did they find any posts by others on my blog?

And yes, I do realize that they likely never even looked at my blog. That this is just a form of spam that’s likely to sent out to every blogger they can find contact info for.

The question I take away from this is: Are bloggers so desperate for content that they’ll let strangers do guest posts in exchange for a couple of links?

Needless to say, I’m not interested so I don’t think a response is necessary. No need to put my e-mail address in their spam list. (They had to use a contact form to contact me.)

In a way, they did write a blog post for me. This one.

Is Writing a Book Like Riding a Bicycle?

Is it possible to forget how?

Despite all my blogging about Flying and helicopters, I still earn the bulk of my income as a writer. I’ve been writing computer how-to books since 1991 (depending on which book you consider my first) and have authored or co-authored more than 70 titles since then.

You’d think that by now I could write a book in my sleep. In a way, I can. Or at least I thought I could.

This past week, I began discussions with a publisher I’d never worked with before about two new titles. I you might expect — I certainly did — I was asked to submit an outline for each proposed book. I sat down with Microsoft Word’s outline feature on one laptop and the software I was going to be writing about running on a laptop beside it. And, for longer than I’d like to admit, I felt overwhelmed.

Writing a Book ≠ Revising a Book

Creating Spreadsheets and ChartsYou see, although I’ve got 70+ books under my belt, the vast majority of those titles are revisions. Two of them have been revised at least 10 times. In fact, on consulting my list of books, I realized that the last time I wrote a book from scratch was in 2004 (Creating Spreadsheet and Charts with Microsoft Excel: Visual QuickProject Guide for Peachpit Press), although I did co-author one (with Miraz Jordan) from scratch in 2006 (WordPress 2: Visual QuickStart Guide for Peachpit Press).

And revising a book is not like writing one from scratch.

When I revise a book, I start with the book and its text. There’s no need for a new outline. If the book will need major changes, I might take the existing book’s table of contents, bring it into Word’s outline feature, and modify it to fit the changes into appropriate places. But if the changes are minor — and believe me, quite a few revisions were like that — I didn’t even bother printing the table of contents. Either way, I go through each chapter and read the text, making changes as necessary. I re-shoot all the screen shots — even in books that have hundreds of them. I add sections and remove sections. Occasionally, I’ll move sections around or expand on sections to make them clearer. More and more often these days, I’m asked to remove sections simply to reduce page count. Then I’m done.

But when I write a book from scratch, I’m starting with nothing more than the subject — usually a software program or online service — and a blank outline page. I need to build the outline from scratch, knowing just a few things:

  • The audience. This is usually beginner to intermediate users; I don’t write for advanced users or programmers very often. Knowing the audience is important; it enables me to make assumptions about their experience and goals. My audience has changed in the 20 or so years I’ve been doing this. In the old days, I often had to begin with basics like how to point and click and close windows. Now I can assume my readers know all that and get on with topic-specific content.
  • The series. Most of my books are part of a book series. In the past, I’ve authored the first book in a series, but that’s not common. I like writing series books. They give me an idea of the style and format my editors want. I can visualize the final pages as I write. Heck, for some books — Peachpit’s Visual QuickStart Guide series, for example — I actually lay out the pages as I write.
  • The software or service. That’s my subject matter. I need to know the software or service very well to know what I’m going to write about. Often, I’m working with beta software that’s not quite ready for prime time or, worse yet, changes as I write. I have to explore menus and palettes and dialogs. I have to try things to see what happens. I have to learn so I can teach.
Don’t Torture Yourself
I always write with the software or service I’m writing about running on a second computer. Anyone who tries to write a book without being able to reference the subject matter while writing is putting himself through a lot of unnecessary torture.

The trick is to build an outline from the ground up, knowing where to start and where to end and how to get from one point to the next. Each chapter should have a logical flow, starting with the basics and moving on to more complex topics. I can’t explain how to perform one task until I’ve already explained how to perform the subtasks that are part of it. For example, I can’t write about formatting text until I’ve explained how to select the text to format and why selecting that text is important.

Have I Lost My Touch?

It’s this logical flow of things that had me stalled this week as I struggled with the two outlines. I seemed to have lost my touch. I couldn’t focus on the software and approach it as a new user might.

What made matters worse was that the editor I was working with gave me outlines to start with. I wasn’t sure whether he wanted me to follow those outlines or build my own. The outline for one of the books was very good. I wouldn’t have had any problem using it as a basis for my book. But I felt weird about using someone else’s outline — even if I had permission to do so. It was almost as if I were copying someone else’s work. I didn’t like that idea at all.

That meant I had to come up with an entirely different approach.

And that’s what stalled me. My mind went blank and I simply couldn’t think of another way to do it.

I’ve Still Got It

Putting the other outline aside and concentrating on the software is what saved me. I was eventually able to focus on the software. I started writing Part names, Chapter names, and A-Head names, following the style used in the series. I shuffled heads around. One thing led to another, just like it always had.

When I was halfway finished and clearly comfortable with my own approach, I consulted that other outline to make sure I covered all the applicable topics that it did. Since the other book was about the Windows version of the software (for the same publisher), only about 80% of the topics applied my Mac version book. My outline presented them in a completely different order, building skills along a different path.

Looking back on it, I realize that my outline is more like one of my outlines and wonder what I’d liked about the other outline in the first place.

Back on the Bicycle

I find it more difficult to write an outline than a book. That might sound strange, but it’s true. Getting the organization settled is the hardest part for me. Once I have that blueprint, I can start building pages.

With the initial period of uncertainty mostly behind me — at least on one of the two projects — I’m looking forward to writing a new book and working with new people. I’m hoping I get some good feedback from my editor on the outline and that we can work together to fine-tune it to meet the publisher’s needs. The contract comes next and then the writing. It’s all part of a workflow I’m quite familiar with.

Now if only I could knock out that second outline…

DocStoc Sells Your Personal Documents

Your privacy is obviously not their concern.

This morning, when going through the Google Alerts set up for my name — one of the tools I use to track down copyright infringement — I found a link on a company called DocStoc. The link was to a copy of my resume, created back in 2004, that included a variety of personal information about me, including my name; my city, state, and zip; my old e-mail address at my domain name; and my job history up to that point. The document was listed as “public domain,” but a Download link required you to have an account with DocStoc to download the document.

Needless to say, I was outraged.

I e-mailed the company and filled out a DMCA takedown notice on their site. I also demanded to know who had uploaded the document so I could take legal action against him/her.

If you have any sort of Internet or Web presence, I highly recommend that you go to DocStoc, perform a search on your name, and use their online DMCA Notification form to get whatever personal documents that are found removed.

Do not support this organization by buying documents that could be stolen from their sources.

On Limited Literacy

Is it wrong to be prejudiced against people who don’t even try to be literate?

I mentioned in my blog that I sometimes allow rated helicopter pilots to fly my aircraft on ferry flights for my flight cost. This is a substantial savings over what they’d pay to rent an aircraft to build time. In addition, they get the chance to fly a long cross-country flight (usually around 10 hours over two days) with an experienced pilot.

I get e-mails from people who are interested in this opportunity. The most recent arrived yesterday:

Yes sir i was intrested in biulding some time i am a commercial rated pilot with 250hr most in a robinson 22 i really need this chance to fly thank you for your time.

Although he managed to capitalize the first letter of the first word and put a period after the last word everything in between is a mess. Spelling? Punctuation? Is this what our schools are churning out?

Keep in mind that he sent me this message using the contact form on my Web site. A Web site that displays my name in the browser’s address bar when viewed. A web site that includes my name, bio, and other information in all kinds of places. Yet he addressed me as “sir.” I figured he’d somehow missed that I was a woman.

Still, the whole message put me in a foul mood. My response got to the point:

Do you have an R44 endorsement?

Maria

Without an R44 endorsement and 10 hours of flight time in R44s, you cannot fly an R44 with a passenger (even me) aboard. No exceptions.

Note that I included my name, just in case he really did miss it the first time.

His reply:

no sir im afraid i do not have it i would be willing to get one if you could let me know what it would take to get one thanks for your time

He didn’t even bother trying to get capitalization or punctuation right this time. Perhaps his shift key broke.

And I wasn’t about to let him get away with “sir” again. I replied:

First of all, I’m not a “sir.” Maria is a woman’s name. You sent an e-mail message to the woman who owns and operates the company and flies the aircraft.

If you don’t have an R44 endorsement, you cannot fly the aircraft. I’m sorry. If you want to get an R44 endorsement, talk to a flight school that operates R44s.

Maria

I’m bugged by this exchange. I’m bugged that someone bordering on illiterate — or too damn lazy to even try to get his spelling, punctuation, or grammar right — has the nerve to ask if he can fly my aircraft. There’s no way in hell I’d let anyone who communicates like that at the controls.

Being a commercial pilot is more than just taking flight lessons and getting the appropriate ratings. If this guy can’t write, how do I know he can read? That he understands the training materials he was given? That he took the time to read the pilot operating manual?

You might argue that he must have because he passed a written and oral test — two of each, in fact — to get as far as he did. But how do I know the quality of his CFI or pilot examiner? Or in the case of sheer laziness, if he’s too lazy to create two short e-mail messages written in proper grammar, why should I do him any favors at all? Frankly, I think even responding to him was going beyond the call of duty here.

Am I wrong to believe that written communication should be created with some semblance to proper grammar? Am I wrong to thumb my nose at people who fail to meet even the lowest tests of their ability to communicate in writing by composing two or three complete sentences?

Is this what our schools are churning out?

More on Fan Mail

I’m actually starting to like it.

Way back in May 2006, I wrote a blog post about Fan Mail. In it, I voiced my embarrassment about getting it from readers.

201003160814.jpgThings seem different lately, and I’m not sure why. I’ve begun getting fan mail from readers of my articles in Aircraft Owner Online (AOO), an online magazine for aircraft owners (duh). The articles are mostly recycled and refreshed blog posts and, to date, are all at least five years old. The folks at AOO do a great job of laying out my text with the high resolution photos I provide, making a slick presentation of my work. (They do the same for the rest of the magazine, of course.) I enjoy preparing and submitting the pieces, mostly because it gives me an excuse to dig back into my archives and relive the flying experiences I’ve written about. The AOO editors barely touch my prose, so I don’t have any reason to complain about heavy-handed editing. It’s a truly positive experience all around.

But what’s most rewarding to me (beyond payment for my work) is the fan mail my monthly “Adventure Flight” column articles have garnered. I’ve been writing for the magazine since November 2009 and, to date, have received at least four e-mailed “fan mail” letters. The most recent came just this morning:

Just a quick note to tell you how entertaining your articles have been in Aircraft Owner online Magazine. You have a very descriptive way of writing that makes one feel (and wish) that they were there flying with you. My wife is from Nogales, Arizona and has a sister in Scottsdale presently. I looked over the map of the various places that you mentioned in your latest article and felt like I had made the flight with you. Keep up the great articles and from one pilot (SEL) to another, I wish the best to you in your various endeavors.

I just felt you should know how much your writing is appreciated.

I didn’t expect any note from a reader to make me feel as good as this one did. In the past, much of my “fan mail” has been glowing praise about my achievements in general, most of which included some kind of envy or “I wish I could do that” statement. That kind of stuff embarrasses me and makes me feel bad for the writer. Most of us have the power to achieve what we want, if only we set our minds to it and do what’s necessary to make it happen.

But a note like this is so different. It complements me on my writing skills rather than on the volume of my published work. (Isn’t acknowledgement of quality better than acknowledgement of quantity?) It let’s me know that I’ve made an impact in someone’s life — even if it’s just a small impact. After all, the note writer read my article about flying with my friend Jim and took the time to dig out a map to follow my progress. The places we flew on that trip aren’t easy to find on a map, but this reader succeeded. And it prompted him to take the time to track down my contact info and send me a very nice note.

A note that pretty much made my day.

So despite what I wrote four years ago, I think I might actually like getting fan mail.