Book On Sports? Excellent.

[found on ehow.com; by Vyvyan Lynn]

“Writing a sports book requires planning. For instance, in order to write a book about University of Georgia football, you have to decide if you will write about a certain time period in the history of the university’s football program or if your book will encompass the entire history of the program.

You could write specifically about the coaches, outstanding players or one outstanding player, such as Herschel Walker. Writing a project plan saves time in the long run and also meshes the creative process together with the business process.

The business process keeps you thinking about writing to your reader or target audience so that your finished product is marketable.”

For more on sports writing from Vyvyan Lynn, click HERE.

[found on http://www.ehow.com/how_7716241_write-sports-book.html]

The War of the Spaces

[found on slate.com; by ]

From elementary school, all the way through college, we are drilled by teachers and professors to type with TWO spaces between our sentences. BUT THAT IS WRONG. The publishing world will beat you soundly about the head and shoulders for using two spaces (not really, but we surely would like to). Take a look at Farhad Manjoo’s article on the subject:

“…What galls me about two-spacers isn’t just their numbers. It’s their certainty that they’re right. Over Thanksgiving dinner last year, I asked people what they considered to be the “correct” number of spaces between sentences. The diners included doctors, computer programmers, and other highly accomplished professionals. Everyone—everyone!—said it was proper to use two spaces. Some people admitted to slipping sometimes and using a single space—but when writing something formal, they were always careful to use two. Others explained they mostly used a single space but felt guilty for violating the two-space “rule.” Still others said they used two spaces all the time, and they were thrilled to be so proper. When I pointed out that they were doing it wrong—that, in fact, the correct way to end a sentence is with a period followed by a single, proud, beautiful space—the table balked. “Who says two spaces is wrong?” they wanted to know.

Typographers, that’s who. The people who study and design the typewritten word decided long ago that we should use one space, not two, between sentences. That convention was not arrived at casually. James Felici, author of the The Complete Manual of Typography, points out that the early history of type is one of inconsistent spacing. Hundreds of years ago, some typesetters would end sentences with a double space, others would use a single space, and a few renegades would use three or four spaces. Inconsistency reigned in all facets of written communication; there were few conventions regarding spelling, punctuation, character design, and ways to add emphasis to type. But as typesetting became more widespread, its practitioners began to adopt best practices. Felici writes that typesetters in Europe began to settle on a single space around the early 20th century. America followed soon after.

Every modern typographer agrees on the one-space rule. It’s one of the canonical rules of the profession, in the same way that waiters know that the salad fork goes to the left of the dinner fork and fashion designers know to put men’s shirt buttons on the right and women’s on the left. Every major style guide—including the Modern Language Association Style Manual and the Chicago Manual of Style—prescribes a single space after a period. (The Publications Manual of the American Psychological Association, used widely in the social sciences, allows for two spaces in draft manuscripts but recommends one space in published work.) Most ordinary people would know the one-space rule, too, if it weren’t for a quirk of history. In the middle of the last century, a now-outmoded technology—the manual typewriter—invaded the American workplace. To accommodate that machine’s shortcomings, everyone began to type wrong. And even though we no longer use typewriters, we all still type like we do. (Also see the persistence of the dreaded Caps Lock key.)

The problem with typewriters was that they used monospaced type—that is, every character occupied an equal amount of horizontal space. This bucked a long tradition of proportional typesetting, in which skinny characters (like I or 1) were given less space than fat ones (like W or M). Monospaced type gives you text that looks “loose” and uneven; there’s a lot of white space between characters and words, so it’s more difficult to spot the spaces between sentences immediately. Hence the adoption of the two-space rule—on a typewriter, an extra space after a sentence makes text easier to read. Here’s the thing, though: Monospaced fonts went out in the 1970s. First electric typewriters and then computers began to offer people ways to create text using proportional fonts. Today nearly every font on your PC is proportional. (Courier is the one major exception.) Because we’ve all switched to modern fonts, adding two spaces after a period no longer enhances readability, typographers say. It diminishes it….”

To read the complete article, and to read more helpful articles from slate.com, click HERE.

[found on http://www.slate.com/articles/technology/technology/2011/01/space_invaders.html]

Affect vs. Effect = Influence vs. Result

[found on quickanddirtytips.com]

“What Is the Difference Between Affect and Effect?

Before we get to the memory trick though, I want to explain the difference between the two words: The majority of the time you use affect with an a as a verb and effect with an e as a noun.

 When Should You Use Affect?

Affect with an a means “to influence,” as in, “The arrows affected Aardvark,” or “The rain affected Amy’s hairdo.” Affect can also mean, roughly, “to act in a way that you don’t feel,” as in, “She affected an air of superiority.”

When Should You Use Effect?

Effect with an e has a lot of subtle meanings as a noun, but to me the meaning “a result” seems to be at the core of all the definitions. For example, you can say, “The effect was eye-popping,” or “The sound effects were amazing,” or “The rain had no effect on Amy’s hairdo.””

To read the full article on Affect vs. Effect from Grammar Girl at QuickAndDirtyTips.com, click HERE.

[found on http://www.quickanddirtytips.com/education/grammar/affect-versus-effect]

Grammar Toolkit

[found on grammarist.com]

Have you ever been writing, and realized  you have no idea what words you need—nor if they are a single word, two words, or a compound word? This site, grammarist.com, is an amazing tool for just such a panic attack. Take a look at the example for workout vs. work out:

“Workout vs. work out

As a noun or an adjectiveworkout is one word. As a verb, it’s two words—work out. So, for instance, when it’s workout time, you start your workout, work out for a while, and stop.

Work out is just one of many phrasal verbs with corresponding one word forms that function as nouns and adjectives. The one-word forms are sometimes hyphenated (e.g., work-out), but more often completely compounded. These forms never catch on as verbs in edited writing, though they are often erroneously treated as verbs in more informal contexts.”

To add this site to your toolkit for writing, click here.

[found on http://grammarist.com/usage/workout-work-out]

Prologue, Wherefore Art Thou?

[found on writermag.com; by Bharti Kirchner]

“• How do you make a transition from the prologue to the opening chapter? A prologue raises questions and is often imbued with conflict, none of which will be immediately resolved. “I think that bridging is the most challenging aspect of writing a prologue,” Barnes says. “How did you adjust the tension once you’re building the story scene by scene? It’s not very often that readers can tolerate the intensity of presentation and emotion found in some prologues for the next 300 pages. The transition is the most difficult, and I often polish and tweak the few pages of a prologue more than I do any other set of pages in the book.”

• Should you use a prologue or not? “The most common mistake I see when writers try to use prologues is that they’re simply writing Chapter 1 and calling it a prologue,” Shortridge says. “If the text actually begins the story in place and time, if it is followed by the same story it begins, then it’s not a prologue and shouldn’t be treated as such.

“I think some early writers feel that prologues have a certain cachet, a sense of sophistication, when in fact they are simply a tool we get to use to introduce disparate elements into the beginning of a story. Not all stories should have prologues, and in fact, probably very few of them are served well by them.”

• Alternatives to prologues. Although a prologue has benefits, some readers skip them, deeming them optional, and plunge straightaway into the first chapter. Some industry professionals, too, frown upon prologues.

“Basically editors and most agents hate prologues,” says agent Andrea Brown, president of Andrea Brown Literary Agency, Inc. “They are sorely overused and seem like a cheap device. Much better for authors to be creative—come up with ways around them and start the novel with a great first chapter.”

What are your options then? Well, you can incorporate a past incident that was highlighted in the prologue into the main story line. You can dole out the data presented in the prologue a little at a time throughout the book without overburdening any single passage. “A skilled historical novelist won’t need to lay out a solid chunk of history [in a prologue] because the necessary historical details will be woven seamlessly through the story,” Donsbach says. This suggestion can work with any genre.

In the final analysis, use a prologue if it can enhance your narrative. When in doubt, leave it out.”

To read the complete article on prologues, or to read more excellent articles from writermag.com, click here.

[found on http://www.writermag.com/2012/05/07/the-pleasures-and-perils-of-prologues]