Friday Find: Small Niceties

I don't generally cluck my tongue over the advent of technology, and its role in our society. Technology has done a lot for me, for all of us, and it's here to stay whether we like it or not. That said, I do also acknowledge and lament some analog things that are becoming lost and/or a lost art, some of which are outlined in this article, which I thoroughly enjoyed. 

A partial list of the points that I particularly enjoyed, with commentary:

- Handwritten notes. This is something I'm always striving to be better at. I was raised to write thank you notes, and while I still do it as an adult, I am always sloooooow to get to the handwritten ones. I am fortunate to have a few friends who regularly send snail mail, and it never, ever fails to brighten my day when I spot something with familiar handwriting in my mail box.

- Parlor games. I do find that generally people are almost always amenable to games, it's just that we don't think to play them as often as we once might have. It always makes me think of the scene in Fred's living room in a Christmas Carol where Ebeneezer finds out how people really feel about him via a parlo(u)r game - my, how times have changed. Now Ebeneezer would probably be reading texts over Fred's shoulder. Also fine, but the parlo(u)r game makes for a more charming scene.

- Children with old school manners. I was a very shy kid. My parents accepted this and understood it, but insisted that I still needed to step forward, say hello and nice to meet you, and shake hands. Then I could go back to hiding behind my mom's legs. As I got older, I was always baffled by adults who wouldn't shake my hand. I often offered my hand first, and remember the looks of surprise on so many adult faces. A strong handshake is important to me and I have a soft spot for kids who will shake my hand (I don't begrudge kids who don't have strong handshakes, to be clear). I have a soft spot for my friends' kids who, even as teenagers, still call me Miss Caitlin, and say yes, ma'am, no, ma'am, no matter how much I insist it isn't necessary.

- Being a gracious guest and a gracious host. In our home the number one rule of hosting is to never make your guests uncomfortable. The number one rule of being a guest is never show up empty-handed, and always offer to help.

- Related: I first fell for my husband in part because he showed up as a friend-of-a-friend at a last-minute BBQ at my house bearing a cheese plate, a smile, and offers to pitch in. I'm just saying, you never know what can happen if you show up armed with brie. (Aren't you glad I resisted the urge to make a pun about how it's a gouda move?) (Sorry.)

Marketing Monday: Reading

You know what they say, it's Monday somewhere! No one says that. It's not Monday, I realize, yet here I am, posting Marketing Monday anyway. Sometimes that's how these things go.

If you've been around here or my Twitter or Instagram accounts at all, you might know I love reading. I love it recreationally, but it's also important to my work. The more I read - of anything - the more voices, vocabulary, and points of view I'm exposed to. The more of that I'm exposed to, the better a writer I become.

When I was in sixth grade, there was a class spelling bee. I remember vividly how we all lined up along the wall and went down the line, taking our turn trying to spell the words the teacher said aloud. At one point she asked for the word 'click'. She went down the line, and student after student said "Click. C-l-i-c-k. Click.", and it was wrong. Everyone was puzzled. But as their puzzlement and murmurs grew, so grew my excitement. I knew what word she was asking for, and it wasn't click.

At that point I read and re-read a lot of Sweet Valley High, The Babysitter's Club, Nancy Drew Files, and anything else I could get my hands on, especially if it had to do with friendship and characters that were close to my age. I knew exactly what word she was talking about. When she got to me, I said "Clique. C-l-i-q-u-e. Clique.". She smiled. I was correct. My classmates were all impressed and confounded and I felt triumphant. I remember vividly feeling like there was a secret I was in on, and I had unlocked it simply by doing something I loved and that came naturally to me: reading.

I had unlocked it by sneaking books outside with me when I was told to put that book down already, go outside and play. I had unlocked it with all those late night (you know, really late for an 11 year old, like 9-10 p.m.) sessions in my room, sneakily reading by the light of the closet, the method for which I had perfected by turning on and cracking the closet door just so: enough light to read by, but not enough to get busted. I'd unlocked it reading by the light of the tiny Christmas tree lights in my room, which I loved so desperately. I'd unlocked it with all those times I brought a book with me everywhere I went, and my poor mother would want to use our solo time in the car together to chat and catch up: But I couldn't help it, I couldn't bear to tear myself away from the words on the page. (I'm sorry, Mom! In my defense, you did have children with someone who magically goes deaf when he has his nose in a book.) (I can't tell you the number of times one of us has stood in front of my Dad's chair while he's reading, calling his name, literally right next to him, and he has been blissfully, completely unaware. These are my genes. I cannot help it. I come by it honestly.) I'd unlocked the secret by befriending the school librarian in fifth grade. She made recommendations for me and would set aside books for me. I'd unlocked it by reading anything I could get my hands on, and letting myself get lost.

Reading was transportation for me. It took me to other places and showed me other ways of thinking, of being, of seeing. It's still that, as an adult. But as a kid, I can still remember the impact of certain books, and how they became part of me as I learned and grew and got to know the world around me, beyond me. Reading taught me things I couldn't have learned anywhere else, and let me safely come home. Reading was an endless selection of windows into different worlds. Reading is very important to me now, but it was important to me then in a way that was different. It's why I've mostly given up on giving cute clothes and shoes to the new babies in my life and instead have taken to giving books, books, books. It's not that I don't love a cute baby in cute clothes, because boy do I ever. It's that the clothes won't last, and the books will, and how often do we get to be part of that in someone's life? My parents recently gave me a stack of books from my childhood, and I found myself gobsmacked at the memories that came flooding back. Things I'd completely forgotten suddenly came to life again on the page, just by reading. A friend of mine told me just yesterday that her tiny son loves the books I got for him, and asks for some of them by reciting some of their lines ("la la la"). It's a privilege to be a part of that. Making memories with books: this is what excites me.

So, Marketing Monday. Reading is important to my writing. I am constantly searching out things I want to read more about. As someone who works for myself, it's one of my primary learning tools outside of the actual work I do for clients. Marketing Monday is a place to share some of those interesting things I find, similarly to how the Friday Find is a way to share anything fun, light, and interesting. 

This week I want to share this HubSpot article on some samples of really good copywriting: 10 Companies that Totally Nail Copywriting. Also has some good insight if you still want to get your head around more of what copywriters do. 

Thanks for reading, friends.

Friday Find: Olya Povlatsky

When Kristen Wiig left SNL, I was bummed. She had become one of my favorite comedians, and I thought no one could come close to my love for her. And while I still adore Kristen Wiig (she remains one of my favorite sources for GIFs, among other things), I am so happy to have Kate McKinnon on the show now. She is so talented and has such a wide range. I'm always excited to see her come on the screen, because I know it's going to be good.

One of my all-time favorite characters of hers (aside from her spot-on impression of Justin Bieber) is Olya Povlatsky, especially in its original incarnation in this sketch discussing the winter Olympics in Sochi. I've somehow found myself talking about it several times lately, and it's always my delight to share something I love with more people. There are many lines from it that we regularly quote around my house. I won't spoil any of them for you, though. Enjoy!

Watch Weekend Update: Olya Povlatsky on the Sochi Olympics from Saturday Night Live on NBC.com

PS - Still love you, Kristen. You and Kate are like peanut butter and caramel: I could never choose.