“Great quotes.” Makes me think of the hair salon Great Clips. Hee.

OK, sorry, back on topic. Today on Garrison Keillor’s short radio progam, The Writer’s Almanac, I heard this poem by Harvey Shapiro.

New York Notes

1. Caught on a side street in heavy traffic, I said to the cabbie, I should have
walked. He replied, I should have been a doctor.

2. When can I get on the 11:33 I ask the guy in the information booth at the Atlantic Avenue Station. When they open the doors, he says.

I am home among my people.

This short and pungent poem reminded me of advice from one of my writing mentors, Maurice Cottingham. Maurice is a long-time copywriter and executive speechwriter for CSC, EDS, and other such high-class joints.

Maurice told me once that perhaps the best way to end a piece is with a great quote. Maruice was, of course, referring to pieces like feature stories and case studies.

But after hearing Mr. Shapiro’s first two stanzas, I’d have to say that Maurice’s advice applies to poems as well.

Thanks, Maurice. You’re the best.

There’s something to be said for clever, catchy writing.

But there’s a lot more to be said for writing that’s simple and straightforward.

I was headed home from my mom’s yesterday with a book I had borrowed. Trustee from the Toolroom, by Nevil Shute, one of Britain’s best storytellers and the author of On the Beach and A Town Like Alice, among other small gems.

Pulling up in my driveway, something compelled me to open the book and read the first sentence. Here’s what I got:

“West Ealing is a suburb to the west of London, and Keith Stewart lives there in the lower part of No. 56 Somerset Road.”

It doesn’t get any plainer than that. But now I know my protagonist; and the simplicity of his introduction, particularly the repetition in saying that West Ealing is west of London, seems to tell me that there is something simple about him as well. I kept reading.

Two pages later, I found Shute writing about Stewart’s machine shop:

“Here he had a six-inch Herbert lathe for heavy work, a three-and-a-half-inch Myford, and a Boley watchmaker’s lathe. He had a Senior milling machine and a Boxford shaper, a large and a small drill press, and a vast array of tools ready to hand.”

Again — a straightforward, precise description. Something in it seems to tell us that Stewart’s life is organized in a similar way: precisely, plainly.

This is not simple language used simplistically. Shute is too good a writer for that. Rather, this is simple language used for effect. And, simple language used to introduce a tremendously good story. Because if you’ve got a good story, it doesn’t need to be dressed up or made clever.

Suffice it to say that I spent 10 minutes in the driveway reading, and another two hours that evening in bed. Once I got hooked, I couldn’t stop.

That’s the power of simple writing.

UPDATE: I spent three hours in bed the next night finishing the book. I couldn’t put it down.

A basic tenet of marketing writing is that your copy must include a call to action — a encouragement to your reader to DO something — usually, to take a specific step toward buying your product. A call to action generally takes the form of a command, such as “click here for a free demo”; “supplies are limited - call today”; or “order now and get free delivery.”

Well, I was at Miami Valley Hospital in Dayton this weekend, and I saw a poster with a missing call for action.

Unfortunately, the poster was about domestic violence.

It read something like this: “Have you every been hit, kicked, or pushed by your partner? Does he control where you go or who you see? Does he act excessively jealous or possessive? If so, you might be a victim of domestic abuse!”

In marketing writing, the bit I just described is known as “identifying your audience’s pain points.” (In this case, identifying their actual pain.) This should be followed by offering a solution — and then instructions telling the audience what to do next. That’s the call to action.

For example, in this case, the poster might have read, “Our local domestic violence shelter is open to women throughout the Miami Valley.  Call us 24 hours a day at xxx-xxx-xxxx. We are here to listen and to help.”

Unfortunately, the poster included none of that. It just ended with the stark warning, “You might be a victim of domestic abuse!” I have to think of women across the Miami Valley reading that and thinking to themselves, “thanks for the tip, a-hole. Now what am I supposed to do?”

To the extent it helps, here are numbers for actual places in the greater Dayton region where women and their children can seek help for domestic abuse:

• Dayton: Artemis Center, 24-hour hotline for domestic abuse: 937-222-SAFE (937-222-7233)
• Greenville: Shelter from Violence, hotline: 937-548-2020
• Sidney: New Choices, hotline: 937-498-4981
• Troy: Family Abuse Center of Miami Valley, hotline: 937-335-7148
• Xenia: Greene County Domestic Violence Project, hotline: 937-426-2334

If you’re a writer, take five minutes today to listen to this discussion by Ira Glass, NPR correspondent and host of my personal favorite radio show of all time, This American Life. Glass discusses the power of storytelling in capturing peoples’ interest — even in fairly boring material.

Publications coach Daphne Gray-Grant, in her weekly newsletter, Power Writing, summarizes Glass’s points thusly:

Stories and anecdotes are central to interesting writing because no matter how boring the material, the momentum of the form will carry the reader/listener along. (Glass compares hearing or reading an anecdote to being on a train.)

Interesting stories, by themselves, are not enough. They must have a point. Glass calls this the “moment of reflection.” This is the big payoff for the reader or listener. It’s when the writer shows the connection between the story that grabbed your interest and the idea that just might change your life.

Gray-Grant asks her readers this: “This week as you’re writing, ask yourself: Are you telling enough stories? And are you connecting the dots for your reader?”

Are you?