Kranz On Copy: Insights and answers on copywriting and writing copy

I'm writing from the press office at BookExpo America, Javits Center, in NYC. I'm tired (I left Massachusetts at 5:30 a.m., which may not be early to some, but is definitely early for a writer) and I'm hungry (nothing but a ham/egg/cheese on a bagel from DD this morning -- in Massachusetts), but I'm exhilerated as well.

The Expo is stranger and more exciting than I had anticipated. Within minutes, no seconds, of my arrival, I was swamped by hawkers. One guy handed me a pin with a promise: Find the matching number (they're all numbered) and you and your doppelganger get a cool $100 cash. Can't argue with that.

I could argue with the next hawker, a young woman promoting, How to Control Men. I tried to explain to her that offering women a book on controlling men seems quite unnecessary, kind of like teaching fish to swim or dogs to bark. She laughed (she gets points for that), yet insisted the book is useful. (Men: Watch out. "They" are honing their skills.)

I stopped at the J. Wiley megaplex to meet my taskmasters, who seemed quite nice. No, they didn't display my book. Yes, it's already in the backlist catalog. While conversing with Melisa Duffy, a Dummies marketing exec, we were interrupted by a heated and importunate older gentleman who aggressively insisted on extracting the name of an editor to whom he could pitch his book. She politely (and with more patience than I can muster -- she's from Indiannapolis after all) explained that the Dummies series doesn't accept proposals over the transom; all titles are shopped through agents.

(Irony alert: The proposal for Writing Copy for Dummies had indeed been pulled from the slush pile -- glad I didn't know the rules. Melisa has asked that I remain silent on this issue on pain of death.)

Next step -- the booth for Llewellyn Publications. I had no business being there -- I was attracted by the titles on Wicca, witchcraft, the occult, etc. I made a poor joke about being cursed if I failed to buy one of their books. With a very straight face and an unwavering gaze that made me uncomfortable, the sales rep informed me that Llewellyn doesn't curse people. "Besides," he said, "all curses come back to you times three. Good or bad." No points for this guy.

While under his spell, I met the author of Vampires: The Occult Truth. At six foot, eight inches or so, with long black hair, Konstantinos cuts an imposing figure. And he's a singer in rock band -- goth, of course -- called Bell, Book and Candle. For all the fire and brimstone, he was actually quite nice. His take on the appeal of vampires? "They represent sexual power, immortality -- all the things goths strive for in life." Amen.

Now I'm on the lookout for a Catholic book publisher -- just in case the Llewellyn guy put the zap on my head. While on the subject of religion, here's an interesting, and true, juxtaposition: Two booths side-by-side at the back of the hall -- Micah Publishing featuring "Books Interpreting Modern Jewry" and The American University in Cairo Press, the latter of which was unattended as I passed by.

So far, my favorite conversation took place at the Merriam-Webster booth. With so many dictionaries flaunting (is that the right word?) the Webster name, which is the real deal, the true descendant of Noah Webster? For the record, it's Merriam-Webster. Look for the blue bulls-eye logo as your assurance of authenticity.

It turns out the gentleman who gave me the scoop is none other than John Morse, president and publisher of the company and a former lexicographer himself. Yes, he is distantly related to Samuel Morse. In an instance of the uncanny that might impress the people at Llewellyn, Samuel once painted a portrait of Noah Webster. And now (insert spooky music) one of his descendants is president of the publishing house the carries the Webster name.

John and I share an enthusiasm for contranyms, words that embrace two contradictory meanings such as "cleave" and "sanction." Of the words he defined for Merriam-Webster, John's favorite is "litany." Can't blame him; it's a beautiful word with the appealing perfume of medieval incense within a great and silent cathedral. I hope I have the privilege of visiting the Merriam-Webster offices in Springfield, MA some day.

Marilyn Herbert of Book Club in a Box asked for a plug and why not? She creates and distributes discussion kits, for assigned titles, to book clubs across the country. Sounds like a smart complement to any book tour/PR campaign.

One last book before I break for lunch: At the booth for American Pie, a book translation outfit, I happened to spot a Russian book with a picture of Adolph Hitler on the cover. Josephine Bacon noticed my curiousity and gave me the story: Newly de-classified files from Russia offer a completely new picture on Hitler's death. According to this book (I forgot to capture the title), Hitler's hands shook so much he couldn't shoot himself; he asked an orderly to do the job for him. The orderly's account was allegedly recorded by the Soviets and subsequently documented in one of Stalin's personal secret files.

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