Energy to Write: Judgment vs. Perception

black and whiteAs with all creative exercises, a writing project requires sustained mental energy to take it to conclusion. Different personality types derive their energy in different ways. The Judging/Perceiving dimension of personality measures whether a person prefers closure or open-endedness. This affects how we approach a project at all stages, and what factors drive us toward completion.

Judging types like to begin a new project right away. This helps them develop a feel for the scope of the project and how long it’s going to take. Judging types don’t like surprises, and they want to be sure they have enough time to finish a project before the deadline. They determine what resources are needed and what steps are involved. They develop a primary plan and a contingency plan. They pad the schedule to prepare for the unexpected. They set milestones—and completing each of those intermediate tasks gives them energy that propels them forward. As the deadline approaches, though, their enthusiasm for the project may wane. All of that preparation and scheduling is draining, and they just want the thing over with. So with focused determination, they tie up the loose ends, send the project off, and forget about it.

Perceiving types may wait to start a new project, focusing instead on more urgent work already in progress. They like to spend time mulling over the project before they begin, and they generally devise a schedule by working backward from the deadline. Since they enjoy improvising and tend to be good at it, they often don’t create backup plans. They trust that everything will work itself out. Energized by new ideas, they enjoy research and may delay writing until they feel they’ve thoroughly explored the possibilities. Once they’ve gathered enough information, they begin to see the pieces fall into place. The deadline gives them energy to push toward the finish line. Without a deadline, they may lack motivation to complete a project. Conversely, some may continue tinkering with a project even after they’ve turned it in.

Image courtesy of sue_r_b.

Sources:

The Art of Dialogue by Carolyn Zeisset
Writing and Personality by John K. DiTiberio and George H. Jensen

Related posts:

Energy to Write: Extraversion vs. Introversion 
Energy to Write: Thinking vs. Feeling
Energy to Write: Sensing vs. Intuition

The ESFJ Writing Personality: Friendly Conversation

Show me someone who never gossips, and I will show you
someone who is not interested in people.
— Barbara Walters

What can  your personality type tell you about your writing style?

ESFJs excel at relating fact-based information based on personal experience. They prefer writing about topics that affect people in tangible ways. ESFJs may begin a project by discussing it with others, but seek solitude for the final draft to avoid distractions.

The ESFJ personality type is one of 16 identified by the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, a popular psychometric instrument used to determine how people prefer to gather information and make decisions. The initials ESFJ stand for the following: Continue reading “The ESFJ Writing Personality: Friendly Conversation”

The ISFP Writing Personality: Quiet Music

The meaning of life is contained in every single expression of life. It is present
in the infinity of forms and phenomena that exist in all of creation.

Michael Jackson

Can knowing your personality type help you grow as a writer?

ISFP writers are acutely aware of the sensations in their physical world. They are adept at conveying the feelings associated with texture, color, and sound. ISFPs want to connect with their audience on a personal level and can have difficulty writing if unsure of the audience’s expectations. Their focus on others is so strong that they may hesitate to express their own deeply held beliefs. But if they learn to trust their voice, they can communicate their gifts of quiet joy and keen perceptions to their readers.

The ISFP personality type is one of 16 identified by Isabel Myers and her mother, Katharine Briggs. Influenced by Carl Jung’s book Psychological Types, Myers and Briggs were the original authors of the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, a popular psychometric instrument used to determine how people prefer to gather information and make decisions. The initials ISFP stand for the following: Continue reading “The ISFP Writing Personality: Quiet Music”

The ESFP Writing Personality: Spontaneous Joy

The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky,  from the earth,
from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider’s web.—
Pablo Picasso

Can knowing your personality type help you become a better writer?

ESFP writers are positive and enthusiastic. They use humor and a sense of fun to foster harmonious interactions between people. They’re intensely aware of their physical surrounding and have an exuberant desire to experience life. They enjoy catchy phrases and are adept at using language to capture the essence of a moment.

The ESFP personality type is one of 16 identified by the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, a popular psychometric instrument used to determine how people prefer to gather information and make decisions. The initials ESFP stand for the following: Continue reading “The ESFP Writing Personality: Spontaneous Joy”

The ESTP Writing Personality: Bold Action

A lot of people are afraid to say what they want.
That’s why they don’t get what they want
.
—Madonna

Can knowing your personality type improve your writing success?

ESTP writers are action-oriented. They focus on facts to solve concrete problems. They want goals and expectations to be established up front. They have little regard for rules that don’t help them meet their objectives.

The ESTP personality type is one of 16 identified by the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, a popular psychometric instrument used to determine how people prefer to gather information and make decisions. The initials ESTP stand for the following: Continue reading “The ESTP Writing Personality: Bold Action”

Too Much Information: The Enemy of Usability

You may have seen the video this week of CNN reporter Ivan Watson covering UN aid workers distributing food in Haiti. Some people in the crowd started shouting that the biscuits were no good because the packaging had a 2008 date on it. Turns out, 2008 was when the biscuits were manufactured. The expiration date was November 2010.

When your users are starving people in desperate need of food, and they’re afraid to eat the food because they’re confusing the manufacturing date with the expiration date, you’ve got a serious usability problem. The packaging is customer-facing information—it should contain only information that customers need.

This is one of the most important ways that technical communicators can contribute to the documentation process. Subject matter experts (SMEs) are often too close to the material to recognize what’s critical information for the customer and what’s extraneous. If you’re documenting a task, and the procedure contains information that seems unrelated, question it. Maybe you’ll learn why the material is pertinent (which will make you a more valuable member of the team, due to your increased knowledge) or maybe the SMEs will realize that the material can be cut (which will make you a more valuable member of the team, because you’ve helped streamline the documentation).

One of the roles of a technical communicator is that of user advocate. Lean documentation is good for the customer and good for the company. Yes, some SMEs may have trouble letting go of material they’ve put time into developing. Others may fall back on the standby argument, “But we’ve always done it this way!” The technical communicator’s job is to gently explain why the old way of doing things served its purpose at the time, but now, we have other considerations (like costly translation) that force us to include only material that our customers need at the moment they’re performing the task.

Providing the right information at the right time is especially important when writing for customers in a potentially high-risk situation. We can’t expect people under stress to read carefully. We must strip down the message to its essentials. What do customers need to know to avert disaster? In a critical moment, that’s the only information they want. Everything else is noise.

Related posts:
Gated Community: A Lesson in Usability
Self-Published Books: Designing for Readability

Writing and Creativity: Going Outward to Go Inward

Over the past six weeks, I’ve been doing something I rarely do in the evenings: watching television. Mainly the History Channel and NatGeo—I’ve learned a lot about how the earth was formed and what John of Patmos was really writing about in the Book of Revelation. I suppose I could feel guilty that I haven’t gotten as much writing done as I otherwise would have. But I don’t.

Why? Because writers need to replenish. It’s easy for writers to get locked up in their own heads. If their inward focus becomes too extreme, they won’t have anything interesting to write about. Or they’ll keep writing about the same things over and over again, with no new ideas to freshen their work.

By exposing myself to subjects that I rarely encounter in my own life—like earth science, history, and theology—I reignite my curiosity. I doubt that I’ll have use for these subjects in my writing. But they’ve gotten me thinking in new ways about human resiliency. Will our race be wiped out by a giant asteroid hitting the earth, or perhaps by an epic battle between good and evil on the fields of Megiddo? I’m skeptical.

I believe humans can, and will, overcome anything—maybe not as individuals, but as a species. The record of our time on earth demonstrates how we continually adapt to the challenges we face. This is what drives me. At the core of my fiction is a fervent belief in human resiliency—a belief I want to share.

It’s good for writers to be reminded of why they write—and to remember that the themes that permeate their writing grow out of other, seemingly unrelated parts of their life. New ideas and experiences nourish you as a writer. Take the time to embrace them.

Do you have any tips on how writers can renew their creativity? Leave a comment!

Can the U.S. Possess?

I received a question from a reader this week about how to express the possessive of U.S. Several possibilities exist, including the following:

  • U.S.’s
  • US’s
  • US’

My instinct was to choose U.S.’s, but I consulted my usual sources to be sure. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find any guidance on how to form the possessive of an abbreviation that ends with an s followed by a period. (While both U.S. and US are acceptable abbreviations, U.S. is more common in the United States and US in the rest of the world.)

What I did find, though, is that when a proper noun is used as an adjective, it’s not a possessive, and therefore doesn’t require an apostrophe. So, for example, it would be proper to write U.S. interests rather than U.S.’s interests. My recommendation is to follow this usage and avoid the problem of the possessive altogether. For instance, instead of writing the U.S.’s first president, you could use the first U.S. president. It looks much cleaner.

If United States is spelled out, the possessive is formed with an apostrophe but no s (for example, The United States’ first president was George Washington.) Since United States is plural in formation, it’s treated as a plural noun, even though it’s singular in usage.

I submitted a question to the Chicago Style Q&A to see what they recommend for the possessive of U.S. If they answer it, I’ll update this post with their reply.

Breaking the Rules: Question Marks in Dialogue and Informal Communication

When it comes to writing, rules can be a wonderful thing. They help ensure consistency, and they relieve writers from having to make endless decisions about mundane questions like which punctuation mark to use. Sometimes, though, usage rules can get in the way of clear communication. In creative writing or informal communication like email, writers have the freedom to reject those rules if they don’t find them useful.

The rules say to use a question mark in the following situations:

  • At the end of a direct question: Whose meatball is that?
  • To express doubt or uncertainty: Leona was born in 1960[?], which would mean her current age is 49.
  • To express confusion or disbelief: You call that a sandwich?

According to the Chicago Manual of Style, a “courtesy question” does not require a question mark. For example, “Will you please remove your shoes before entering the sanctuary” is a statement, not a question.

In Modern American Usage, Bryan Garner puts it this way: “A question mark follows every question that expects an answer.”

Sometimes, though, I expect an answer even if I don’t phrase the sentence as a question. Consider the following: “I wonder if I have time to stop at the post office before lunch?” This is the reverse of a courtesy question: it’s a question phrased as a statement. What I mean is, “I want to stop at the post office before lunch. Do you mind?” But this phrasing makes it awkward for someone to say, “I’ve got a 1:00 meeting.  I was hoping everyone could be at the restaurant by noon.” So I cloak my desire in an absent sort of wondering to make it easier for someone to tell me no. Continue reading “Breaking the Rules: Question Marks in Dialogue and Informal Communication”

Writing Effective Sex Scenes (Without Embarassing Yourself or Others)

In honor of NaNoWriMo, I’m tackling a subject that many beginning novelists find challenging: sex scenes.  Sex scenes require finesse and attention to craft, but they don’t have to be difficult to write.  Just keep in mind the purpose that they serve.

Like any other scene, sex scenes must do the following:

  • advance the plot
  • develop the characters
  • create a mood
  • leave the reader wondering what will happen next

Love in a cave
Sex scenes work best when much is left to the reader's imagination.

Sex scenes do not require detailed description of the action.  One of the cardinal rules of writing fiction is that you should never tell readers something they already know.  Readers already know that characters have certain body parts, and that during sex, those body parts will interact in certain ways. Unless you want to stress something that’s unusual about the body parts or the interaction, you can avoid mentioning them altogether. Implication is sufficient.  The readers’ imagination will fill in the rest.

What does interest readers is how the characters feel about the action. Are they blissful, bored, insecure, or confident? Is the protagonist hoping that this is the man she’ll spend the rest of her life with, or is she mentally composing a grocery list?

As in any other scene, sensory detail is important. Again, you don’t have to tell readers what sex feels like; assuming that you’re writing for adults, most of them already know. Instead, choose details that are specific to the character. Does the protagonist notice that her lover’s sheets are cheap and rough, whereas she’s used to 300-thread-count cotton? Does that make him less attractive to her? Or does she think he just needs a good woman to teach him about the finer things in life? If the latter, do you, as the author, want this to be a warning sign to readers that the protagonist is blind to how incompatible the couple is? Or do you want to show that they complement each other—that they’re both open to growth? Focus on how the action of the scene ties into the larger action of the novel.

Sex scenes can be emotionally intense.  They often show characters at their most vulnerable. They can be turning points in a relationship or a novel. Remember that sex scenes are about character, not about sex, and approach them without fear.