I am a big believer in free-market solutions. However, I’m not a big believer in Wild West capitalism. Government plays a vital role in helping us prevent capitalistic abuse. But what’s the right role of government in health care?
I found that both John Stossel’s 20/20 “Sick in America” and a recent report from Safeway give brilliant insight into the situation and possible solutions. Enjoy!
Here, watch this book trailer for Scott Westerfield’s Leviathan.
Yeah, I know you want to–go ahead, watch it again.
Miller looks at book trailers, sees that the vast majority of them are lame, lame, lame (actually, this is the FIRST I’ve seen that’s any good). Sees that they reach no markets and then concludes that all trailers are silly. It’s true: lame trailers ARE a waste of time and money. But ANY advertisement (print, video, audio, whatever) that’s lame is a waste of time and money. Making killer trailers that nobody sees is an even bigger waste of time and money. But that’s true of ANY killer advertisement that nobody sees.
Look. I’ve never read Westerfield. Don’t know much about him or his books. But I saw that clip and now want to read that book. Hum, trailer worked for me. I AM a reptoid mutant, but I suspect there are others out there like me. I mean, come on. Good gravy, woman–“Do you oil your war machines? Or do you feed them?” Killer!
Movie trailers, book trailers–any advertisement–isn’t about delivering what the person is going to experience on the spot. If that were the case, then you’d never show a print ad of a meal at Olive Garden because it doesn’t deliver the goods right there on page 10 of Woman’s Day. Nope, all you’d do is go around giving out samples in places with Italian mood.
Miller’s error is not understanding the difference between making an offer and delivering on one. What an ad is supposed to do is make the offer. Let you know this thing is available. Because you’re not delivering the actual experience, you can make the offer via all sorts of media. Now, if you can give them a taste, that’s great. But you don’t need to deliver the full deal right there.
So what do you need in an offer? You need the offer to say, “Hey, I’ll deliver this type of experience.” It needs to call to some action, either directly or by implication–“buy this” or “be here.” You also need it to say, “You can trust this will be worth it” and make the consumer believe that’s likely to be true. It communicates this last bit by being a quality piece of work.
Making an offer is exactly what book covers do–they make the offer and give the consumer a little taste. And book covers matter. This has been proven over and over. Just like most people, when I see a cool cover, I pick up the book and check it out. When I see a lame one, or one that offers something I’m not interested in, you’re going to have to threaten me to pick that book up. Or it better dang well have some righteous word of mouth. It’s that simple. We all judge books by their covers because the cover is making an offer. And lame offers don’t get very many takers.
Book trailers are nothing more than deluxe book covers. The cool thing about them is the cool thing about movie trailers–you can make the offer by providing a little taste. You do that by giving the audience the story situation, the pitch. You do it by communicating the feel of the experience and raising curiosity. You do it by making it a pro job. The good ones make you laugh, say cool!, or raise curiosity and expectation.
And that Westerfield trailer does that.
Dang, “Do you oil your machines? Or do you feed them?”
Run that on TV. Run it on the radio. Put it up on sites where people are likely to see and click. Confirm it in print. Make the offer to real people. Get it infront of young readers. I’ll stake my eyebrows that ad can sell as many books as a good movie trailer can sell movie tickets.
Very effective advertising for the book. I think the content of the book is crap, but that trailer made me pick it up just to see what it was all about.
Do you notice that this one and the Westerfield one combine extreme professionalism AND they make the pitch in a clear and grabbing way? The pitch for both was what the book was about. For fiction it’s the concept. For non-fiction how to it’s the promise.
So many of the book trailers lack one or more of those things. For example, look at the book award finalist for THE FALLEN: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vsLE6bNaIrk. I don’t know what the heck the book is even about after a long 2 minutes. They’re trying to make a movie.
Something else. On both of these you have a voice over PITCHING the book to you just as someone might do it in person or to an editor. It’s a powerful method, I think.
Notice also how short the Westerfield one is. Just over a minute. Westerfield’s really is like a query pitch or cover copy–in just a few lines tell me what your story is about. We get genre, setting, character, and the story problem or concept.
There’s going to be a novel and movie about a presidential candidate’s Body Man. I can feel it. The topic is too rich.
I’m not talking about his body guard. Or some wardrobe guy. Or, please, some sexual thing (good grief, people). I’m talking about the dude whose task it is to free up the candidate so he can focus on meeting, talking, etc. instead of rousting about for a pen or cell phone.
Check out this NY Times video on Romney’s body man.
One of my favorite stories of all time featured two characters in just such a relationship. That would be Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee in The Lord of the Rings. Tolkien writes in his letters that he based their relationship on his observations during his military service in World War 1 of the relationship between a batman and his officer. “Batman” being, not a Bruce Wayne wannabe with a utility belt, but a Soldier-Servant assigned to an officer in the British army of the time.
I want a story about a body man. Or a body woman. It feels so delicious.
A language is the soul of its people. This is nowhere illustrated more profoundly than in the Yiddish language, the language of Jews of eastern and central Europe and their descendants. A tongue full of wit and charm, Yiddish embodies deep appreciation of human behavior in all its colorful manifestations. The word Yiddish comes from German Judisch meaning Jewish. But it is not the same as Hebrew, even though it is written in Hebrew script…
…Many of the everyday English language words such as bagel, klutz, and kibitz are terms from Yiddish. This week we’ll look at a few other Yiddishisms that have enriched the English language.
schnook (shnook) noun
A stupid, easily deceived person.
[From Yiddish shnuk (snout) or from German schnucke (a small sheep).]
-Anu Garg (words at wordsmith.org)
“A gun-toting schnook became an embarrassing crook when he robbed
a Spokane dollar store Sunday. Seriously, if you’re going to commit
a Class A felony, you might as well rob a Class A joint.”
Frank Sennett; Dollar-Store Thief Bucks Common Sense; Spokesman Review
(Washington); Mar 9, 2007.
schnorrer (SHNOR-uhr) noun
One who habitually takes advantage of others’ generosity,
often through an air of entitlement.
[From Yiddish, from German schnurren (to purr, hum, or whir), from the sound of a beggar’s musical instrument.]
megillah (meh-GIL-uh) noun
A long, tedious account.
[From Yiddish megile (scroll), from Hebrew megillah, from galal (to roll).
The term alludes to the length of the text in the Book of Esther which is read in its entirety, twice, during Purim, a Jewish festival.]
-Anu Garg (words at wordsmith.org)
“But the obvious challenge was to go through the whole megillah — to
begin with the Andante in C Major, which Mozart wrote when he was five,
and proceed to the bitter end, the Requiem.”
Alex Ross; The Storm of Style; The New Yorker; Jul 24, 2006
meshuga or meshugga (muh-SHOOG-uh) adjective
Crazy; stupid.
[From Yiddish meshuge, from Hebrew meshugga.]
Today’s word in Visual Thesaurus: http://visualthesaurus.com/?w1=meshuga
-Anu Garg (words at wordsmith.org)
“Plenty of hip-hoppers want to be considered insane, but only Paul Barman
wants to be known as meshuga.”
David Segal; The Weirder, the Better; The Washington Post; Jun 25, 2000.
schlump (shlump) noun
A dull or slovenly person.
[From Yiddish shlumperdik (unkempt, sloppy).]
-Anu Garg (words at wordsmith.org)
“‘You don’t want to dress up too much, but you don’t want to be
a schlump,’ says Michael Kors.”
Hal Rubenstein; Terrific Style by Age, by Size, by Shape, by Color;
In Style (New York); Aug 2006.
I’ve wanted a cool animal friend for some time. And I mean afriend, not a pet. Pets you have to take care. Friends come, delight you, then leave. And lest you think I’m a meanie, I’ve got five cats that came with the house we moved into a few years ago. Love ’em, but I don’t need any more pets.
But a friend, now that’s different. Up here in the sticks we’ve got lots of interesting candidates: foxes, coyotes, raccoons, neighbor dogs that get into your garage and abscond with nifty chew toys like your expensive new hiking boots.
I’ve always wanted a bird gang as friends (I think it’s an unfortunate Disney heroine-envy syndrome). We’ve got eagles and magpies up here. But we also have crows and ravens. And ravens, according to some sources, are as smart as wolves. In fact, I’m so taken with the bird gang idea that I’m using it in the series I’ve titled LORD OF BONES. The hero has two raven friends who will be characters in their own rights.
