After seeing my writers’ finest serious work for our April issue, it seemed like a perfect time to do their evaluations. Thus, I will be judging them on certain crucial skills on a scale of one to five. Now keep in mind, I’m going to have to employ a lot of “tough love” today, since, well, sometimes they completely mess up on the easiest things and I can’t help but laugh out loud at my computer screen. Sorry, writers. (But not that sorry.)
On a more poetic note, I’ve recently had the idea that being a writer isn’t all that different from being a dishwasher. Not the person who washes dishes, mind you–the appliance. Dishwashers take something dirty and apply technique to render it flawless. So does any good writer. The first draft is always a bit like a dirty dish. It takes detergent and some rinsing to allow its true merit to shine through. Additionally, dishwashers have great difficulty cleaning dishes when empty on detergent, almost as much difficulty as writers trying to arouse their creative passions with an empty stomach. What’s the takeaway here? Buy dishwashers. They’ll make you better writers, obviously (though mainly because of the amazing metaphor you’ll remember any time you look at a dishwasher).
Above: dishwashers in their natural habitat
When trying to market the potato masher to an audience of nerds, what could possibly be more effective than a LOTR theme? Perfect topic. But if I were to make a sales pitch for the potato masher, I probably would have written the same angle.
This man had the NERVE to ask for an extension. I know, right? How simply unprofessional.
He watched the movies on double speed as homework. Surely this qualifies him as the world’s leading expert in LOTR.
What do I even expect in terms of organization? Is this a formal paper with a thesis and subpoints? No way. As long as it looks good enough and has pictures (Ethan had memes instead of real pictures, so -1 point, and be glad it isn’t more) I’m fine with it.
Okay, so there’s just one gripe I have with Ethan’s communication and it’s that WE’VE BEEN REPLYING BACK AND FORTH TO ONE EMAIL CHAIN THE ENTIRE YEAR INTEAD OF SENDING SEPARATE EMAILS FOR EACH ARTICLE AND IT’S INSANE BECAUSE WHO DOES THAT?
Flawlessly combining her usual discussion about literary trends with an advertisement for cookie cutters? Full marks.
Again, this mad lass had the audacity to request a deadline extension. Don’t these writers know we expect them to sacrifice their lives and souls to write for clay? Clearly, this is a case of misplaced priorities.
Grammatical Correctness: 5
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… I couldn’t find a SINGLE ERROR in her article this month. Have I failed as an editor?
For most of the cookie cutter archetypes she discussed, Victoria listed an archetype and an example of said archetype, but for the Innocent, she only vaguely referenced “fair maidens,” and didn’t even bother to give an example for the Jester. Come on, we want specifics.
Marketing done right, with the one exception that she neglected to include prices for her cookie cutters. How am I to know if my broke self can afford them or not?
Suffering from a self-proclaimed case of writer’s block, Ansley only resorted to marketing the mandolin slicer because she couldn’t figure out what to write next in the next chapter of her story. How truly unfortunate.
Although Ansley shows that she does, in fact, know how to successfully use a mandolin slicer, the pun usage in her article would call into question her knowledgeability that distinguishes between a classy pun and…well, other puns.
Many a lesser writer would never admit to having the grievous ailment known as writer’s block, and for this, we must applaud Ansley’s honesty. Her sales pitch comes off as an extremely honest and genuine representation of a product near and dear to her heart.
Ah, Measuring Man, ever the underrated superhero. He certainly deserves every bit of the publicity he gets from Cassie’s interview, and credit to her for choosing to give a lesser-known hero a bit of exposure.
Unfortunately, Cassie’s article seemed too organized. It’s like the flawlessly executed interview structure rips into my unorganized brain and makes me feel bad.
As might be apparent, evaluating the style of this article proved difficult. A four seemed to give too much credit, yet a three seemed unappreciative. After much calculation, I’ve found the perfect grade.
Cassie turned in her draft and topic selection far before everyone else did, making it slightly more inconvenient to look far back in my inbox to find her email when it came time to edit the article. Minus four points.
Sushi wrappers posed quite the challenge for Jenna. How does one market a kitchen utility so holy while still paying it the proper respect? Fortunately for her, she came to her wise editor for advice, and with the help of his incredible ingenuity and creative spark, she discovered the musical properties bestowed by sushi wrappers and wrote an article that truly reflects their divine nature.
The minute I saw a panda bear playing the flute, a bunch of musical notes, and a banjo photoshopped on top of a sushi wrapper, I knew I was looking at an organizational masterpiece.
I thought I had seen bad puns in my day. I thought I could see nothing worse. Jenna proved me wrong. Each pun dealt a heavy blow to my soul. I’m not sure if I’ll ever recover.
What happens when you cross a poetry column with an advertisement? Sarah happens, that’s what.
Though she technically turned this article in on time, Sarah and I have never quite agreed on when exactly her articles are supposed to end up in my inbox. The unfortunate thing is I can’t even be frustrated with her because she has the best excuses like having a fire almost burn down her house. Thus, I take out my grievance here by giving her zero for timeliness. Ha.
Rigid organization doesn’t go with poetry. As such, giving Sarah a high score would be calling her a bad poet, but giving her a low score calls the quality of her work into question. The only logical solution was to assign her a grade of Pi, having no other alternative.
I can’t even be satirical about this poem anymore. It’s actually amazing. Go read it if you haven’t.