Become a vigorous verb collector

In last week's post, I emphasized the value of jamming as many lively, punchy verbs into your bean as possible because verbs are the heart of effective writing. But how do you become well-versed in verbs? You need to collect them with all the zeal of an antiques fancier.

Perhaps the best place to do your verb mining is within the work of good writers. Keep pen and pencil handy the next time you're reading, and when you encounter a forceful verb, jot it down. Before long, you'll have compiled a sizable list. Then it's a matter of making them part of your writing vocabulary. The act of writing them down helps fix them in your mind and may be all that's needed to make them yours.

Like a collector of rare baseball cards or pottery, though, you might like to become even more familiar with your collection. In that case, use the entries on your verb list in sentences. Do that a few times and they'll definitely become yours, and your writing will be that much brawnier.

Pump up scrawny writing with powerful verbs

One of the first lectures I give in my writing class every semester is on verbs. This vital classification of words is the bedrock on which all solid writing is based, which makes sense. Verbs, after all, express action (to write, to run, to strike, to die) or a state of being (I am, you are). Their very presence is required to form a sentence.

But their power extends far beyond their ability to express action. It's how they express it that makes them shine. If you want to instantly improve your writing, cultivate an appreciation for lively, descriptive verbs.

Why say, "She took the hat from his head," when you can say, "She snatched...ripped...plucked the hat." Why not spice up a dull sentence like, "The wind blew hard across the prairie" by recasting it using a punchy verb: "The wind scoured the prairie."

Just as verbs can liven a sentence, provided you choose wisely, picking the wrong verb can be like tossing a spoon into a whirring garbage disposal. You'll make an unpleasant noise and just might break something, like the reader's attention.

Mean what you say

The tag line for my public relations and marketing communications business, Leigh Communications, is "Say What You Mean."

I chose that phrase because saying what you mean, particularly in writing, can be a challenge, as the The Dallas Morning News recently discovered in making its "Texan of the Year" selection.

The paper's aim in designating a Texan of the year is to recognize a person or group that has had a major impact or has produced change in the Lone Star State over the past year.

But the paper touched off a prairie fire of criticism when it named the illegal immigrant as its Texan of the year. The selection produced 800 blog postings and more than 150 letters to the editor -- all slamming the decision. As one reader fumed, "What part of stupid are you guys that support illegal aliens?"

Backpedaling, the paper explained that being named "Texan of the Year" isn't necessarily an honor and its intent wasn't to support "illegal aliens." The News explained that its selection was intended to make the point that the flood of illegal immigrants is having a considerable impact on Texas and the rest of the nation. But critics weren't buying that nuance, and for that, the newspaper is at fault.

In naming the selection "Texan of the Year," the News was ignoring a fundamental rule of communication: You must be clear in meaning. To put it another way, say what you mean.

The paper failed in that by ignoring the long held practice of corporations and organizations of naming a man or woman of the year and intending that designation to be an honor. You can't use that "____ of the year" phrasing, with its strong connotation of being an accolade, and expect to rope it to some other meaning. Time magazine commits the same error with its "Person of the Year" designation. Both publications should develop another name for these designations that more closely describes their intent. How about "The Year's Top Influencer"?

Saying what you mean requires attention not only to the precise meaning of words or phrases but to their connotations and common usages. Failing to do so, as the Dallas Morning News discovered, can have perilous consequences.

Will Facebookers ever learn to write?

The most recent issue of Public Relations Tactics, the trade publication of the Public Relations Association of America, contains a bit about writing that I emphatically agree with.

Tactics' "PR blotter" notes that among today's teens, e-mail is as old school as a mullet. Young people today rely almost exclusively on instant messaging, text messaging and alerts on Facebook and MySpace.

These quick and abbreviated communications media may be trendy, but they have a monumental drawback -- they don't force users to communicate in grammatically correct sentences or even in complete, complex thoughts. Instead they're electronic versions of a caveman's grunts and gestures.

The PR Blotter piece correctly points out, though, that while e-mail may be passe among teens, it still rules the workplace. That means that in the professional world, you must be able to communicate effectively with the written word, a skill that young people entering the workforce will have a hard time mastering after spending their teens texting.

So, how do you combat modern society's hi-tech assault on grammatically correct, comprehensive written communication? That's a good question. Maybe it starts with placing the same emphasis on writing in grade school and high school that's now being placed on math and science.

Have you got rhythm?

Thanks to a post on Dan Santow's Word Wise blog, I recently visited Confident Writing, a blog by Joanna Young, a Brit, who offers 10 tips on improving your writing. To second what Dan said, Joanna does a nice job with her list, though I think every writer would have a largely different one.

I particularly like Joanna's advice that we writers must avoid basic grammar mistakes, use plain everyday words and try not to "witter on" (obviously a British expression for droning on in long, meandering sentences).

The only tip on Joanna's list that I would amend is her advice to use short sentences. Yes, short sentences are key to solid, punchy, readable writing. But over-reliance on them can also make writing read woodenly.

I advise my writing students to learn how to write short sentences; too many beginning writers tend to witter on. But once they've mastered that tool, I urge them to mix in longer sentences. Blending long and short sentences gives life and rhythm to writing.

Know what to look for

I've commented recently on reading over your copy carefully before sending it, which improves your chances of catching errors. Of course I say this knowing there are those out there who couldn't care less whether their communications are cluttered with misspellings, comma splices, punctuation goofs and other flaws.

Trying to change that way of thinking may be about as successful as persuading college football to scrap the Bowl Championship Series and institute a play-off. So, for those who don't care what their copy reads like (I guess that also means that you don't care if you communicate), this post isn't for you.

For those who do care, let me get to the point. Yes, careful rereading will catch most if not all errors. And once you've made that technique a habit, the next step is to know what to look for when you're scrutinizing your copy for mistakes.

That can be a long list. But one of the chief errors that creeps into copy has to do with everyday words that sound like other words.

I'm talking about writing your when what you meant to say was you're, or their, when what you intended was they're or there. Other commonly confused pairs are its and it's, and who's and whose.

As I said the list of common errors can be lengthy and it can be different for every writer. Pay attention to the inadvertent mistakes that end up on your copy and make a point of looking for them when you inspect your text for flaws. It's hard to catch all your mistakes, I know I can't, but if you can spot and fix most of them, you're doing well.

Whoa there!

One of my favorite writing blogs is Kenneth W. Davis' "Manage Your Writing." In a recent post, Kenneth reminds us of the need to "take a few more swings" at a piece of communication before we send it.

In other words, don't hit the send button the instant after you type the last period of the last sentence of your e-mail. Don't publish your most recent blog post while your keyboard is still warm from your flying fingers.

Allowing a piece of writing to cool down -- even for a few minutes -- before sending it is an invaluable technique for spotting errors in your copy or your thinking. And if you were guilty of WWA (writing while angry), giving your writing some time to age can give you time to come to your senses and either delete the ire-filled communication you were about to send (and probably regret), or at least take out the four-letter words.

How much time should you take? As much as you can. If you only have a moment or two, then take it. Of course, the more time that elapses between first draft and sending, the more likely you are to catch and fix errors.