Sara Rosinsky • Shiny Red Copy
  • home
  • blog
  • portfolio
    • social media
    • articles
    • dandy candy
    • freezer treats
    • money matters
    • online ordering
    • raise a glass
    • fundraising
    • hair we go
    • education
    • branding
    • thinq smart
    • how entertaining
    • spread the word
    • a few faves
    • sears screed
  • resume
  • kudos
  • about sara
  • contact sara
  • resources
  • dish towels
  • home
  • blog
  • portfolio
    • social media
    • articles
    • dandy candy
    • freezer treats
    • money matters
    • online ordering
    • raise a glass
    • fundraising
    • hair we go
    • education
    • branding
    • thinq smart
    • how entertaining
    • spread the word
    • a few faves
    • sears screed
  • resume
  • kudos
  • about sara
  • contact sara
  • resources
  • dish towels
  Sara Rosinsky • Shiny Red Copy

sara's Shiny red blog

Naughty apostrophes and how to tame them.

1/13/2021

0 Comments

 
Picture
Apostrophes tolerate a lot of abuse. They get stuck into words where they don’t belong and left out of words where they do belong. They frequently get recruited for pluralizing words they have absolutely no business pluralizing.

Watch out: Apostrophes get their revenge for this mistreatment with an act of subversion I’ll call the smart quote flip.

​Let me explain.

Picture
So-called smart quotes are provided as an act of automatic typographic beautification by our electronic devices. The smart quotes feature…
But the smart quote feature tends to backfire when you type an apostrophe (which can also serve as a single quote) at the beginning of a word to signal that you’ve removed  letters or digits.
Picture
This will make some of your readers clench their teeth, which I’m sure you’d like to avoid. So I’m going to tell you how to discipline your errant apostrophes and ensure that they maintain their correct orientation.

Let’s say you want to tell someone you earned your PhD in taxidermy in 2008. And let’s say you want to remove the initial 2 and 0 from that year and replace them with an apostrophe. Here’s how:

Step 1: As you type your text, leave out the space that precedes your apostrophe. This will trick that rambunctious little mark into wrapping around the word that precedes it.
Picture
Step 2: Once you’ve achieved a proper left-curving apostrophe, you can go back and insert the missing space.
Picture
That’s it! You’ve now wrangled your apostrophe into its proper place.

But wait! What if you don’t have a preceding word to wrap your apostrophe around? Just make a temporary one.
Picture
You’ve got this! Go forth and apostrophize (real word) with confidence.

PS: Beyond preventing AFS (Apostrophe Flipping Syndrome), I encourage you to pay close attention to all your apostrophes, placing them only where they’re needed. If you’d like help with such endeavors, consider signing up for my weekly email. You’ll learn, among other things, when to use its and when to use it’s; when you want lets and when you want let’s.
0 Comments

Why I stole two puppies.

8/19/2020

0 Comments

 
Picture
My father bathes Ralph while I—it looks like—whine about something.
Look, it was a long time ago. It was a decision made with my heart, not my head. And Lisa Perez didn't deserve them.

Here's what I remember.

I must have been something like six years old. Lisa Perez, who was about my age, had two adorable new puppies with her in front of her house—a black one and a beige one. Were the puppies in a box? Was Lisa holding them? I'm not sure. What I recall is that she claimed to have found them, and she told me in a sort of braggy way, "My mom says if I don't find who they belong to, I get to keep them."

Oh, no. That could not happen.

Lisa Perez shouldn't simply get to keep two tiny, out-of-the-blue, windfall puppies. And her mother probably hadn't actually given her permission, anyway. Lisa was a known teller of falsehoods. She had once pointed at some velvety moss growing on a rock and assured me it was gravity.

So, within a matter of seconds, I took action.

I started running down the street toward my house while calling, "Here, puppies! Here, puppies!"

And they ran after me! Clearly, they sensed who would make a better owner.

I don't know what ensued between the Perez parents and my own, if anything. All I know is that my Great Dog Robbery was successful, and I got to keep that pair of scruffy little curs.

My much older brothers named them Ralph and Floyd. But I often continued to refer to them as simply "puppies."​

​My career as a criminal was short, but it served me well.
0 Comments

Meet Not-Nolan.

7/26/2020

16 Comments

 
Picture
Like just about everything else "in the time of COVID," adopting a dog is tricky. No more casually visiting shelters and interacting with a multitude of pups in person. You have to search online and make appointments. You have to meet dogs with half of your face covered and the smell of sanitizer on your hands.

And because everyone is stuck at home, a lot of people—particularly in Colorado—are adopting dogs right now. Inventory is tight. Dogs are flying off the proverbial shelves.

For example, a month or two ago, my husband (Bob) and I found a dog we liked down in Denver. Right before we got in the car for the long drive down (which would prove particularly trafficky and unpleasant that day), we called to make sure the dog was still available. He was. But by the time we arrived at the shelter, the dog was gone.
So. A couple of weeks ago, I saw this photo of "Nolan" on Petfinder, and I was smitten. I immediately began filling out the shelter's application. It took longer than I anticipated. (What will you do if your dog is destructive when left alone? What is your estimate of the routine yearly expense of owning a dog? etc.) My husband got a little irritated because I insisted on filling out the form RIGHT THEN on a Friday night. But I wasn't going to let this pup get away if I could help it.
Picture
There were technical troubles with the application. There were emails and phone calls. But before too long ... success! We were deemed fit dog-parents. Before we could even meet this 14-pound creature (he was still in New Mexico), I paid $509.66, signed a contract, and began counting the minutes until we could pick him up.

We knew he'd be exhausted when we went to get him from Farfel's Farm & Rescue in Boulder. He would be coming straight from the vehicle transporting him and other dogs from Texas and New Mexico.

But things were worse than we'd anticipated.

"There's been a little incident," the woman behind the desk at Farfel's let us know when we arrived for our pickup appointment. The "incident" involved a frightened Nolan and a well-intentioned human trying to pick him up. And, well, a bite. (Dog-on-human, if you're wondering.)

OK. So now we were picking up a "dog that bites." But whatever— we were OK with that. (Just look at his picture.) It was decided that Nolan would stay in his dog crate so we could spare him the stress of taking him out. (And maybe spare ourselves from snapping jaws.)

The next few days were rough. The only way we could take Nolan outside for toileting was to carry him in the crate he stayed in all the time. He was very reluctant to leave it. Here he is on his second day with us: standing with three legs out, one leg in. He stayed in this position for a loooong time.
Picture
He developed a hardcore case of "stress colitis." That's fancy talk for explosive, unremitting, horrid-smelling diarrhea. So much of it. So often. Day after day. I've done so much carpet cleaning. (You know, I've never made a penny from affiliate links, but I will happily plant one right here for Nature's Miracle.)

This dog was such a basket case, in fact, I had to check with Farfel's Rescue about his backstory. They had described him as "a bit shy at first," but this he was beyond shy. He was a wreck. I texted the lovely woman from Farfel's and got the whole story.
Picture
When Bob learned this, he began indicating that he might not want to adopt this dog, after all. Nolan's brain probably isn't wired for human companionship, Bob conjectured.

But I knew we had a full two weeks to "try out" this dog. And I hoped that with enough affection, safety, peace, and consistency, he might begin to settle.

I wanted more than anything to avoid taking him to the vet for his gastrointestinal issues, because I knew it would only traumatize him more. Could strings be pulled with the Farfel's vets? Could we just give them a "sample" from Nolan (what a euphemism!) and get a prescription?

Nope.

​My sage friend Sara Webster told me what I didn't want to hear about the vet:
Picture
Sigh.

I bit that bullet and made an appointment.

By this point, Nolan was starting to make some progress. He'd graduated from his opaque Farfel's crate (see above) to a wire one that let him see out and get used to his surroundings. He'd even ventured out loose in the house a little. I hoped that the trauma of a car trip and vet visit wouldn't take him right back to square one.

On his sixth day with us, we took Nolan to the vet.

He survived.

He got meds.

​He got better.

And Bob's been won over. Nolan is a keeper! 🎉

I'm writing this on day ten. Nolan's belly is all better. He has an appetite. He has energy. He has a personality! Now all he needs is a new name.​ (Opinions of the following and suggestions welcome.)
Picture
16 Comments

Spelling counts.

7/12/2020

2 Comments

 
Picture


​

I've said before that I am not a grammar Nazi. I have no interest in shaming anyone or trying to prove any kind of superiority. I promise.

I do believe, however, that many people—particularly businesspeople—want to write clearly and correctly, and I'm happy to help them achieve that goal.

So a while back, when a customer service rep typed "your welcome" to me, I shared the above screenshot on LinkedIn. I pointed out that it's an extremely common error and explained ​that when you say "you're welcome," you're creating a contraction of "you are welcome." I thought it might help some people better understand and remember the correct spelling.

(I did not​ write, or even imply, "Look how stupid this person is." I simply explained the correct spelling.)

I was surprised when I got this response from a "senior business development manager":
Picture

Huh.

I had to think about that just a bit.

While I was thinking, I did a bit of "research" (read: Googling) about this conviction that so long as we can understand each other, we shouldn't be fussing about apostrophes and spelling.

And I discovered that this senior business development manager's opinion was not unique. I found a meme that echoed his sentiment with just a touch more vulgarity:
Picture
I won't even comment on that missing apostrophe. I'll just address the question.

First—in my defense, I never correct people directly unless I know they want me to, and then I only do so privately.

But as for the "correctness" thing, I'll explain "why the fuck" it matters.

It matters because we live in a society. With conventions and expectations. And—occasionally—manners. We abide by certain rules to get along harmoniously. To establish credibility. To gain trust and respect. This is why you don't typically show up for a job interview barefoot or pick your nose when you're meeting your new neighbors. It's why you stand in line and wear pants in Starbucks. It's why your doctor doesn't buff his fingernails while he's listing your treatment options.

Also, writing is about connecting and communicating with our readers. We owe them the kindness of making our message as clear as possible. It's like holding a door open for them. It's polite. We're helping them along. We're putting in a good effort to save them trouble. We're showing them respect.

I admit that writing is a series of judgment calls, and I might write more casually on Twitter than I would on behalf of a higher education client. But fundamentally, I always try to think about the people reading my writing, and I try to treat them well.

So that's "the issue," and that's my position, for anyone who's wondering.

You're welcome.
2 Comments

I loved you, Little Guy.

5/21/2020

2 Comments

 
Picture
Pandemic: bad.

Having to put down your beloved dog during a pandemic: extra bad.

Actually, I didn't have to do it myself—thank goodness. The wonderful, compassionate folks at Pets & Pals Veterinary Hospital in Lafayette, Colorado, have stayed open during this outbreak, and they handled the euthanasia. (Thank you, thank you, thank you.)

Below is a piece I wrote for my husband's dog photography website many years ago. I'll leave it here as a tribute to Little Guy, my funny, handsome, and tremendously comforting friend. ❤️

Life with the chiweenie.

My husband has a thing for dachshunds. There’s something about their personality—their confidence, their swagger—that he just loves. Not to mention the Cuteness Factor, which is substantial.

So after decades of admiring and photographing the breed, Bob decided he simply had to have a doxie. I consented, as I’ve always recognized that dogs are good for my husband’s mental health. Even though we already had our 40-pound mutt Jazz, Bob had a dearth of dachshunds.

So the search began.

We contacted a number of dachshund rescue leagues, filled out long forms, and participated in interviews. We had to prove ourselves worthy.


I think it was during my conversation with a south Florida rescue league that I began to have second thoughts about adopting a full-blooded dachshund. There was much talk about the potential need for expensive back surgery with this breed. Did we have several thousand dollars on hand? And would we be willing to spend it on our yet-to-be-adopted pet?

Hmmm. Maybe we’d be better off with a dachshund-ISH dog, with a little bit of gene heterogeneity.

​This line of reasoning is what led us to our three-year-old chiweenie—half dachshund, half chihuahua—whom we ended up dubbing “Little Guy.” And this is where our lives were changed.

How to describe our chiweenie? I think it can be summed up in a few words:


  1. Unpredictable. Suddenly, our lives are all about dog poop. We have to take this little mutt out many times a day and pay fanatical attention to his biorhythms. Has the chiweenie gone out? Did he poop? Did he poop more than once? And of course, there are the intermittent infuriating discoveries of unwelcome Indoor Poop.
    ​
  2. Distractible. When this dog goes outside (see item #1), all his senses go on high alert. Is that a dog barking in the next county over? Did someone sneeze two blocks away? Curious chiweenies want to know. Much of this dog’s outdoor time is spent sniffing the air and frowning at various sounds. Windblown bushes are hypnotizing.

  3. Food-focused. This dog will eat anything. Any. Thing. You name it: fruit, vegetables, whatever that is that you just dropped. And of course, he eats our other dog’s food. Thank heavens he’s as short as he is, or he’d clean us out.

  4. Intense. This is not a goofy, carefree dog. No lolling tongue here. This is no Labrador retriever. This fellow will stare at you right in the eyes, demanding, “What is going to happen RIGHT NOW? Will you be getting me some food? Are we going somewhere? What exactly are your intentions?”

  5. Undeniably cute. Why would we tolerate such a needy creature? One that requires so much cajoling and vigilant oversight? That’s easy: he’s adorable. He has a soft coat that you can’t keep your hands off of. He’ll snuggle up to you in a way that makes your heart rate plummet. And he’s got those floppy ears. And that tail! It sticks up in the air and waves proudly wherever he goes, announcing to the world that the chiweenie has arrived. 

​Would Bob adopt this dog again if he’d known what he was getting into? It depends on when you ask. If Bob’s in the front yard, begging Little Guy to go potty? Probably not. But when Little Guy is curled up cozily and snoring on Bob’s lap? Then, I think Bob would admit he’s grateful that this eleven-pound canine character marched his way into our lives.
2 Comments

Why it took me a year to design a logo (and what the experience taught me).

4/18/2020

2 Comments

 
Picture
Logos I did *not* design. From left to right, designed by Saul Bass, Saul Bass, and Rob Janoff.
Congratulate me. Seriously. I deserve it.

This week, I finally gave a client a logo I started working on—yes—one year ago.

Want to know why? Because I am not a professional designer.

Why, you may ask, would I create a logo for a client if I am not a designer?

Excellent question.

The answer can be found somewhere in the neighborhood of “enthusiasm” and “curiosity.” Cross street: “naïveté.”

When I began freelancing (as a copywriter, not a designer) in 2016, I quickly decided that I wanted to learn how to use Adobe Illustrator (and maybe a few other applications in Adobe Suite). I started watching instructional videos and practicing and slowly, slowly acquiring knowledge.

But I realized I needed a professional to occasionally lean over my shoulder and give me some guidance. So when a “branding design” class opened up nearby—taught by a creative director I really admire—I paid for it within approximately two minutes and eagerly awaited the first class.

I was going to get to work on logos! Color palettes! Typography! With professional guidance!

The class convened. And it wasn’t quite what I was expecting. We focused a lot on positioning and strategic branding. We worked on articulating brands with words much more than with design. 

But at a certain point, I was given the assignment to develop a brand, complete with logo.

Rather than work for an imaginary client, I thought I’d try to help out a nonprofit. I found one right in my town, met with the managing director, and got going. After some preliminary work, it came time to create … the logo.

The creative director/teacher of my branding class gave me very friendly feedback on the designs I shared, but I could tell he was being way too forgiving. I knew I wasn’t finished with the logo by the time the class concluded.

I kept working. I got help from several designer friends. And eventually, with MUCH assistance, I came up with half a dozen logos. The client chose one, and just this week, I finished creating all the requisite formats, zipped the file, and sent it off. Ta-da!

Now, let me say that part of this year-long logo turnaround has to do with the nonprofit I worked with—how infrequently their board meets, and a definite lack of urgency on their end. But a big part of it has to do with how freaking difficult it is for a non-designer to create a logo.

Yes, I’ve worked closely with professional designers for 30 years. I’ve attended countless design conferences and events. I’m a member of AIGA. I know *something* about design. But I did not earn a degree in design. And this became painfully obvious. Because designing a logo is challenging in about a dozen different ways. And every challenge was amplified by my ignorance.

I learned a lot from this adventure, to be sure. But I won’t enumerate all the lessons I absorbed about typography alignment and CMYK values and Pantone workarounds and EPS files. Instead, I want to tell you my most important takeaways from my Very Challenging Logo Project.

My Three Commandments for Hiring Designers

I’ve felt all of these things throughout my career. But never so strongly as I do now. 

1) Give designers plenty of time.

​Most non-designers have a drastically skewed view of how long it takes to do anything design-wise. The advent of Photoshop contributed to this misperception. Non-designers think everything should take just a few keystrokes to accomplish. Never assume any such thing. Every aspect of design—researching, concepting, creating, tweaking, reviewing, etc.—takes time. Practice saying this with me now so you can say it to your designer later: “How much time do you need?”

2) Give designers plenty of money.

If you are a non-designer, I promise you this: Your designer knows more than you do about design. Designers have worked hard to become educated and savvy professionals. They are artists. They are technicians. They are problem-solvers and problem-preventers. They know how to help you. They are worth every penny. Pay them. Pay them well. Pay them on time.

3) Give designers plenty of respect.

I’ve been in the advertising/marketing business long enough to know that this needs saying. Repeating. Yelling. It’s closely tied with items #1 and #2 above. Don’t impose ridiculous deadlines. Don’t ignore invoices. Don’t wait until the last minute to answer questions. Don’t request changes because your wife doesn’t care for the color green. In fact, if you’re going to request any changes, preface them with this: “Let me know if you think this will compromise what you’re trying to accomplish with your design. If so, let me know. Please tell me what you think.”

Now. Does anyone need a logo? Because I know quite a few designers I’d be happy to recommend.

2 Comments

What if?

3/8/2020

2 Comments

 
Picture
I have this idea. People may not like it.

Here's what I'm thinking: The world is not black and white. People are not all good or all bad. I know how much we love having villains and heroes, but that really isn't the way it works.

Think of your personal life. Those times when someone's behavior enrages you, you typically aren't really understanding their perspective or rationale. You make assumptions. You simplify. You get self-righteously pissed off.

But after the blow-up, the yelling, the tears, the silent treatment... if you're lucky, you talk. You listen. And you come to understand. More often than not, you realize that your fury wasn't really so appropriate.

What I want is a number. A number that represents how likely your perspective is to be accurate in any of those times you find yourself indignant. If your perspective were perfect during these moments, this number would be 100.

The number could never be 100.

It is my hypothesis that when we find ourselves angry—at a spouse, at a relative, and yes, even at a ideological adversary or politician—this number, on average, is 24.7—at most. Maybe it's 17.9. Or lower.

Let's call that average the Righteousness Quotient. Every time you find yourself upset about someone else's behavior or beliefs, you know that you're only this likely to be correct in all your assumptions.


My hope is that, if we all knew this number, we'd be a little more patient and circumspect. A little slower to react. A little more inclined to listen and understand. Less likely to go on the attack and dig in our heels.

I think we'd all be happier. Less angry, certainly. We'd probably spend less time excoriating one another. We'd spend less energy whipping up others to share in our fury. We'd think of this number—maybe some of us would even tattoo it on the backs of our hands—and we'd remember to slow down and ask questions and work to understand one another.

I think it might make for a better world.
2 Comments

For the love of small spaces.

11/24/2019

2 Comments

 
Picture
When I was a kid, I had the opposite of claustrophobia. I'd call it claustrophilia, but I don't want to pathologize it. I just enjoyed tucking myself into little hideouts and cozy spots: cabinets, closets, an oversized drawer... even the top of the refrigerator, for a spell. (Maybe I don't want to scrutinize this behavior too much.)

Anyway, this proclivity has carried over to my professional life today. I've discovered that my favorite copywriting challenges are those where space is limited. A billboard that people need to take in while driving 70 miles an hour. A thirty-second radio spot. A digital ad that's half the size of a credit card. The back of a frozen entree. Subject lines. Headlines. Taglines. Tweets.

Related: For the past few years, I've been creating little language lessons about grammar, spelling, punctuation, etymology, etc. (See a sampling below.) Each of these social media posts measures only 1080 x 1080 pixels. That's not a lot of room to explain when you should use "loath" instead of "loathe," or how to avoid committing a comma splice. But that restriction is a big part of why I love creating these things. They're like Rubik's cubes. The challenge: How much memorable information can I fit into the square without it feeling like a Dr. Bronner's label?
Now, If you're one of the millions of people who freelance, you've likely heard the mantra that to succeed, you need to "niche down." (Don't ask me to say that out loud—whichever way you pronounce it, you're sure to annoy somebody.) The more specific your expertise, say all the career coaches, the better. You're supposed to specialize in some industry "vertical": dentistry, landscaping, badminton... something.

But I don't want to. I love promoting all sorts of products and services: beer and banks and boarding schools. If I particularly love the work a client does (like Invest in Girls, say), then that's just icing on the cake. (Oh—I've gotten to write lots about cake. And icing.)

So I think that rather than niching down in the usual sense, I'd like to focus on small spaces. I'll take a pass on the long white papers and ebooks. Bring on the ads. The emails. The out-of-home. I want to work on posters and postcards and packaging. Give me a small space, and I will do big things.℠ 
2 Comments

Have you ever suffered from semantic satiation?

9/22/2019

8 Comments

 
Picture
Just now, I was working on an email that includes a lesson about when to use "awhile" and when to use "a while." And after... well, a while, that "while" and "awhile" business started to look mighty weird. Almost like they weren't words at all but just a meaningless collection of letters.

If you've ever experienced such a phenomenon, then you've felt semantic satiation. Instead of paraphrasing the Wikipedia article, I will simply point you there, should you want to learn more about it.​
​If you find this sort of thing entertaining, do check out the related entry about the following, which is a truly legitimate sentence:

Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.
Brown bird on top of black buffalo
Photo by Lewie Embling on Unsplash
​If you didn't know the sensation of semantic satiation before, I'll bet you do now. :)
8 Comments

An afternoon with Aaron James Draplin.

9/19/2019

2 Comments

 
Picture
Four of the postcards in the Aaron James Draplin collection by French Paper. Artists are, from left to right, Nick Hafner, Shreyas Chaudhary, Nicholas Huggins, and Levi "Tron" Ratliff.
I am a copywriter, not a designer. But back in 2016 when I started freelancing full-time, I decided that I wanted to learn how to use Adobe Illustrator. I couldn't exactly justify it, but the urge was strong enough that I started paying a hefty chunk of change for an Adobe Suite subscription.

Copywriting always comes first, but whenever I can, I take Skillshare classes* and practice using Adobe Illustrator. One of the first classes I took was taught by Aaron Draplin. He was blazingly fast, but I did my best to follow along. Everything he did was captivating and inspirational.

When I learned that he was going to be giving a workshop in Denver this week, I thought, "What the heck—why not?" I whipped out my credit card and got my spot in a class that sold out in just a few days. It was well worth the price to get in-person teaching time from the guy who's created designs for the likes of Target, Nike, Bernie Sanders, and the US Postal Service.

My dream was that he could give me some one-on-one guidance on a logo I volunteered to create for a local nonprofit. Working on this thing has proven to me that everyone should pay good designers all the money. If you've ever gotten the impression that graphic design is easy or quick, you are woefully mistaken. It is seriously challenging, and it takes time. Lots and lots of time.

Well, at yesterday's workshop, I quickly realized that there could be no personalized guidance from Mr. Draplin. There were way too many people and not enough time. But I learned a lot, and I feel more at ease about finishing up my logo. (Fortunately, I know several talented designers who are willing to help me along.)
Picture
The night before my workshop, I attended a talk that Aaron Draplin gave as part of Denver Startup Week. I bought his book...
Picture
... and got it signed. He may not have spelled my name correctly (almost no one does), but he did give me a multitude of exclamation points!!!
Many years ago, I heard someone say that "you regret things that you don't do more than things that you do." So, though it may not make obvious sense for a non-designer like me to take design classes from a big-time pro and try my hand designing a pro bono logo, that's the path I've decided to take. And I'm loving every step of it.

​Viva freelancing!

*I highly recommend Skillshare--
here's a code for two free months of a Premium subscription​.
2 Comments
<<Previous

    Archives

    January 2021
    August 2020
    July 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    November 2019
    September 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017

    Categories

    All
    Advertising & Marketing
    Books
    Colorado
    Comedy
    Creativity
    Design
    Dogs
    Florida
    Freelancing
    Language
    My Life
    Other
    Podcasts & Audiobooks
    Skepticism
    Travel
    Typography
    Writing

    RSS Feed


​Copyright © 2021