Archive for November, 2009

I Delcare War

Monday, November 16th, 2009

by Ryan Faist

Big Idea Company

vietnamI haven’t wanted to do this… but you’ve pushed me too far. I’m talking to a certain group of writers who have somehow advanced their troops to the frontline of American media. Well, I’m here to tell you that this is as far as you go.  

For you innocent civilians reading this, I will explain. My enemy is any writer who inflates their prose with sensationalism. That means hype. Sensationalism is when a writer takes a banal experience, like walking down the street or brushing your teeth, and turns it into some kind of melodramatic or extraordinary experience. It’s what my father would refer to as B.S.

To make sure you understand why I’m about to pick a fight, I’m going to get a little technical. First off, you have to realize why my enemies want to sensationalize their writing. It has to do with creating conflict, or tension. You see, in any piece of prose there are two types of conflict: macro-tension and micro-tension. Macro-tension is the major conflict in the article or story. In a murder mystery, it’s the “whodunit?” Micro-tension is a series of minor conflicts that help advance the story, but aren’t necessarily related to the major conflict. For example, in a murder mystery, micro-tension may be when the protagonist runs out of gas on the highway or when the phone rings and nobody’s there. We want to know what happens, so we keep watching… or reading. That’s micro-tension.

Sensationalism, on the other hand, is a lazy technique that bad writers use to keep you reading when there is no organic tension. For example, instead of running out of gas on the highway, a writer using sensationalism might describe how the highway brought back painful memories of riding to the pumpkin patch with his mother when the hero was a child. It’s creating tension where there is none, and it’s the lowest form of writing.  

I’m not just talking about fiction. Every piece of prose has to have some kind of conflict. I don’t care if you’re writing an article about a new treatment for wrinkles or a press release about an old man who sings the alphabet in Spanish pig-Latin. If you want people to read it, you’ll find the natural trouble – notice I said find and natural.

Too many writers have developed the awful habit of inventing the trouble. That’s sensationalism. Instead of discovering the tragic root of the old man’s peculiar singing habit, the lazy writer might try to invent tension by comparing him with a famous tenor like Mario Lanza, and then alluding to his tragedy of never becoming famous himself. Unless the old man is actually as good as Lanza, and had even a remote chance of becoming a successful tenor (which is doubtful), then the entire comparison was sensationalism: phony tension, a sorry attempt to make the writing interesting. It happens. You’d be surprised at the lengths my enemies will go in order to sensationalize their writing because they’re unable to find the true tension in the story. It’s becoming more and more common every day.

Here’s the point to remember: micro-tension is good, sensationalism is bad. My enemies don’t know the difference. They don’t know that readers can always tell when you’re faking it. If they could just learn to distinguish micro-tension from sensationalism, their writing would instantly comes across as more genuine, and therefore more appealing.  

But they never will. They’ll keep writing their B.S. until someone stops them. So allow me.

Those of you guilty of this literary travesty know who you are. But your fun and games are over. Consider this post both a declaration of war and a first offense. So round up your army and meet me at the frontline. We shall see whose pen is mightiest.

Six-Foot Dogs, Villainous Ad-Makers, and the Degradation of American Culture

Monday, November 2nd, 2009

by Ryan Faist

Big Idea Company

dog

Credit: The Pack

I was waiting at a stoplight, staring at a six-foot tall dog with a newspaper jammed in its mouth. It was an advertisement on the back of the truck ahead of me. When I stared longer, I realized that it was an ad for a landscaping company. The dog had nothing to do with the message; it only served to grab my attention, which it did. But after seeing it, I wasn’t compelled to treat my lawn. Instead, I was asking myself why Americans’ attention spans have shrunk to the point where some advertisers will stray so far from their message to grab a person’s attention.

It’s not just advertisements. It’s all forms of popular media. If you look closely, you’ll notice that the average scene-length of movies and television shows has shortened significantly over the years. Even the style of most blockbuster novels today is much more fast-paced – tension on every page. I’m not saying any of this is bad, but I am saying that we Americans have become an inpatient culture. And the media knows it.

Some people will argue that technology is to blame. The internet, social media, iPods, blackberries, yada yada yada, have all collectively spoiled us with immediate access to information. That makes sense, but something else is bothering me.

Let us suppose that America suffers from attention deficit disorder for whatever reason. Fine. Advertisers and marketers have to adjust as the playing field changes, just as any businessperson must. I understand this. But the giant dog staring at me from the back of a commercial truck was something much more frightening. At first, I thought it was an ad for the local newspaper, or maybe a dog-catching service. That would have been okay with me, even though I like dogs. But when I realized it was an ad for a landscaping company, I became enraged. In a strange way, I felt like the people who created it were contributing to the degradation of a once patient culture… just so they could make a few bucks. No, I’m not crazy.

Don’t get me wrong. I believe in the power of a good advertisement. But I can’t help but wonder about how the current state of advertising is dealing with the shortened attention spans of American consumers. Even worse, I wonder if some advertisers are somehow helping to shrink attention spans even more with ads that ignore the rules once practiced by the advertisers of previous generations. Maybe people will get used to advertisements that use arbitrary and shocking images to catch their attention, just as they’ll get used to short scenes and fast-paced novels. Where will it end? How about the Statue of Liberty dressed in fish net to sell macaroni and cheese? Why not a three-eyed gargoyle floating over the moon to promote toothpaste?

I’ll tell you why. It’s stupid. Creating advertisements is a craft, and just like any other craft, there are techniques, guidelines and aesthetics to every good ad. It’s within these boundaries that you find your creativity. Once you become a rebel ad-maker with no respect for anything done in the past and a willingness to do anything in the future, including arbitrarily exploiting people’s short attention spans, you risk more than just failing your clients with bad ads. You may unknowingly participate in the degradation of our culture by contributing to the shrinking of the average American attention span until it reaches the point where 1) we as a people have no patience for anything other than instant gratification, and 2) ad-makers become more and more willing to stray even further from good ad-making principles in the lazy effort to grab your attention. Both are grim forecasts for a brave new world.