What’s on the iPod: Something Good by The Airborne Toxic Event
Back when big hair and shoulder pads were necessary accessories, Oprah and her personal chef put out this cookbook. The premise – if this woman could make Oprah skinny, she can make you skinny, too.
In the cookbook was a recipe that used spaghetti squash as a substitute for actual spaghetti. Sounded good enough, so I pulled out a pot and started to it.
Spaghetti squash tastes nothing like spaghetti. In fact, it’s probably the worst substitute for spaghetti that a person could possibly use. Shredded cardboard would be better. Shredded car parts even. But I got insight into how Oprah lost all that weight – someone expected her to eat this crap and she didn’t know how to cook.
Writing is like that sometimes. Sure, we pick up the super projects, the fun ones, even ones that introduce us to new topics and industries. But every now and then we pick up a spaghetti-squash project – one that promises much, much more than it delivers. It may suck even.
So how do you handle the spaghetti-squash project?
Lots of seasoning. The project itself may be gawd-awful, but you could spice it up enough to make it interesting to both your audience and you. Suppose it’s a dry topic requiring an institutional voice. Yea, that’s spaghetti squash. But even institutional writing needs to compel its readers to act. Do this – write it out conversationally first, one paragraph at a time. Then go back and replace your “It’s” and “You’re” to “The company” and “Institutional investors.” It takes the sting out of going all third-person.
Antacid. Or in this case, caffeine, chocolate, or whatever it takes to keep your butt sitting in that chair until the first draft is done.
Side dishes. You have other projects, right? Give yourself a short break from the blandness of the main dish. Grab a side dish and get something creative down on paper.
Take out. That’s your reward. Give yourself benchmarks. “If I get through two more pages today, I’m going for a latte.”
Sell the cookbook. Now you know what you don’t like. So why dip back into that pile for another? If you’re sure every project will be exactly like that one, walk away from future work. If you hate it after you’ve finished it, you’re not going to love it twelve projects in. Find projects that interest you on some level or challenge you in a better way.
How do you deal with spaghetti-squash projects?
15 responses to “Why Writing is Sometimes Like Spaghetti Squash”
I fulfill my contract and choose the next project more carefully.
I committed to a spaghetti squash project the last week of '09 when January was looking a little too lean. It was tedious corporate-speak and what made it particularly bitter to swallow was that since it came from an agency, I cut my rate. Then my phone started ringing and all the delicious "dessert" projects started rolling in. So I fed the spaghetti squash to the dog, metaphorically speaking. I outsourced it to a junior writer who was able to decipher the corporate language enough to give me good first drafts. Then I put the seasoning on them. I still was able to make a decent profit, too. Most of the time, I just sit my butt in the chair and get it done, but I had too much on my plate this time.
I know, I've tortured the food metaphors. I haven't had my coffee yet.
I think you did pretty good with the metaphors, Eileen. 🙂
Devon, that's exactly it. I chose better on a few projects myself. Amen to it, too.
Great analogy, Lori! Sometimes the "dessert" (ie the paycheck) is what makes these kinds of projects worthwhile, so I focus on that and just try to get it done.
I want dessert first, Susan. 🙂
I'm wondering if we're all obsessed with food or just hungry. I did a "recipe" on a recent post. 🙂
With your insurance background, I know you understand how challenging it can be to take a spaghetti squash topic and create a really fine pasta.
What makes it tougher is when you encounter an institutional Master Chef that still cooks on a gas stove. So you figure it's his (or her) kitchen, do your best and then move on to a brighter kitchen.
Cathy, that's hilarious! Thanks for making my day. 🙂
I had to grab a snack midway through this post 🙂
For me, when I have to write something I don't want to write, I wait a while to start. Working on deadline helps the ideas to flow faster, for some reason. I typically go for dessert first, too. Somehow it makes the spaghetti squash go down easier.
It sounds counterintuitive, but think of it this way: If you fill up on the squash (or use up all the creative juices for the blah project), there's no room left for dessert (or feeling stuck on the great projects). Working on something fun first seems to get me on a roll, which can spill over into the blah project.
I approach it the same way as Ashley. I do the same thing with big cleaning projects. It's easier for me to mull daunting or boring tasks and then just power through them when the deadline looms.
So glad I never tried that spaghetti squash trend. It worked in photos, but it seemed the squash wouldn't have enough texture to contrast with the sauce.
Hey, Lori, I figure for all the times you make my day, I should give back. Glad I could make you smile. 🙂
Ashley, I love it! Great idea, and yes, for me, sometimes, it works that way. Then there are the times I think "If I can get this out of the way, I can work on something much more fun." My mother was/is always preaching "Get it done so you can sit down" meaning if you put it off, you can't really relax. I'm wired like that. 🙂
Paula, I'm like that with oil changes. It's getting started that gets in the way. Once I get going, it's fine, but getting that car up on ramps is the part I hate.
I have to make a correction – the recipe wasn't in the Oprah's chef's book, but something Richard Simmons had suggested. Either way, it sucked. My apologies to Oprah and her chef. 🙂
I just Ranch Dressing. It will spice almost anything up.
If I can, I'll try to add a new twist to a bland project; if I can't, it's time to dump the dud and move on to something else.
LOL! Ranch! Perfect! 🙂
Lori, when I saw the headline, I thought maybe you had detonated a spaghetti squash in the microwave like I did a few weeks ago. (What a mess!) Evidently, I didn't poke the fork in deep enough.
So, extending the metaphor in an entirely different direction, my caveat would be to make sure that you…always provide yourself a route to let steam escape!
LOL! Great advice, per usual, Jake. 🙂