A few weeks ago, I posted a status update on my Facebook page asking for blog topics. I got a lot of responses, and over the next month or so I’ll attempt to answer them all. Well, maybe except for Mike Flint’s question about why there are so many songs about rainbows. (Why indeed?)

Today’s question comes from my fabulously lovely and talented PR friend, Genevieve Crain, who writes:

“Are contractions considered okay in formal writing? It seems really stiff to write using non-contracted words … Is that even a term?”

Thanks for the question, Genevieve, and let me answer the first one last. Is “non-contracted” even a word? I asked my business partner Dan, who knows everything about grammar. His response: “Umm …,” followed by a long pause, since clearly he didn’t know the answer. Then, “Don’t you have work you should be doing?” (He always gets defensive when his grammatical prowess is called into question.)

So let’s go back to the first part of your question instead: “Are contractions okay in formal writing?”

• If it’s for a legal document, contractions are not appropriate. Oh no, ma’am, they are not. (Note that I didn’t even feel comfortable using contractions in this bullet.)
• If it’s copy for a stiff, super boring website, you’d better spell it out. Unsure of what might qualify as stiff and super boring? It probably has a .gov extension. As Obama’s National Word Czar, I assure you I am working on this problem.
• If you want to sound like a pompous jerk or a high school student. Not that the two are necessarily mutually exclusive. Fact: People who are insecure about their writing skills — or just want to show off — often write in overly inflated, formal language.

Okay, I’m being a little harsh here. It’s not like being formal is always such a bad thing. In fact, when in doubt, it’s probably better to err on the side of formality.

But in most cases, “conversational writing,” which includes the use of contractions, is the preferred style for business communications. I actually wrote a whole article about this; that’s how much I care, Genevieve! Since we don’t always have time to read every article that comes our way, conversational writing can be summed up like this: It’s writing that sounds like it comes from a real person, not a robot.

So I say when it comes to contractions, use away. But be consistent. For example, if you choose to use contractions, use them throughout your entire document or at least the entire sentence. Don’t write, “I’ll bet you’re sorry you even asked, are you not?” Instead: “I’ll bet you’re sorry you even asked, aren’t you?”

I hope you’re not sorry, Genevieve.

A few months ago, I was waiting for my husband to finish up his class when I overheard one student lament to another that writing papers was so hard. Or maybe, “like so hard.” I can’t remember. 

But I do remember the response. Her friend told her that it wasn’t hard at all. In fact, it wasn’t even that time-consuming: “Just Google a bunch of stuff, then change the words around.”

To be honest, my reaction was mixed. I was outraged, in that classic, “Kids today!” sort of a way that makes you feel really old. But I was also a little jealous. And upon deeper reflection, I had to climb off my high horse, remembering a time back in junior high when I “borrowed” generously from the “L” encyclopedia for a history paper on Abraham Lincoln.

I’m not even sure I bothered to “change the words around.” After all, the encyclopedia was from the 1950s. The paper came back with a “C-” and a note that read, “Watch the plagiarism.” From then on, I did. I had learned my lesson. 

Which is why I find it so disturbing to now have to report to you, our faithful blog readers, that we have been victims of plagiarism by none other than The New York Times. I know, I can’t believe it either. And I wouldn’t if it weren’t for the indisputable facts …   

Indisputable Fact #1: Mere days after we blogged about the new cult of mom bloggers, “This Conversation is Sponsored by Pampers,” this appeared: “Approval by a Blogger May Please Sponsor.” Now I don’t know Pradnya Josh, but she (he?) better watch out in dark alleys.

Indisputable Fact #2: I was willing to let Pradnya off the hook. Hey, we all get stumped for ideas every now and then. Until! Yesterday while enjoying the Sunday edition of the Times, I stumbled upon Noam Cohen’s article, “To Be ‘Verbed’ of Not ‘Verbed.‘” I’m sure you all remember that on Dec. 1, we wrote nearly the exact same article. What’s next, Noam, an exposé about Comfort Wipe? 

Okay, I don’t really think the Times is stealing our ideas. And if they were, I’d be too flattered to press charges. Besides, it would be pretty hypocritical of us since we certainly borrow ideas all the time for our blog.

Are we really so different from Ms. “Term Papers are Easy”? Okay, hers was an egregious example of willful plagiarism. But what do we do with this cavernous gray area of “acceptable” versus “unacceptable” when it comes to other people’s creative or intellectual property?

And here’s a question for my fellow copywriters: Have you ever had the bizarre experience of realizing you are plagiarizing yourself? I have — and have had to go back and rewrite because, though they are my words, I don’t own them anymore. Strange days indeed.

Back when Anna and I were just a couple of crazy kids with a dream, we had an interesting debate. It concerned our fledgling website – and how we wanted to present ourselves to the online world.

The official Hired Pens website, V1.0.

The year was 2001, and we didn’t have the cash to hire a Web designer. We were going to have to build the site ourselves, using our pathetically rudimentary design skills. If something was going to make our site stand out, it would have to be the copy.

The question was, what voice should the copy take? Anna thought we should go the humorous route. But humor is tricky. What’s hilarious to you might be silly, inane or even offensive to someone else. Plus, we were trying to get work with serious organizations -  universities, hospitals, financial firms, etc. What if they weren’t amused?

Eventually, though, Anna won me over. Her argument: While some organizations may engage in serious business, the employees there are still human. And some of those people even have a sense of humor. Those are the people who would like our site (and who would probably be enjoyable to work with).

So we set out to write website copy that would be clever and professional. It took awhile, but we like to think we got it right.

In the eight years since, we’ve been very happy with the results. There’s nothing better than hearing from potential clients who found us online and decided to call us because our site made them laugh. Sometimes, they even decide to hire us. That’s especially sweet.

What’s the lesson here? Don’t be afraid to take chances with your website copy. Sure, you could play it conservative, always color within the lines, and drone on and on about “market-leading solutions” and “our proven methodology.” However, that’s probably what your competition is doing too.

Humor isn’t appropriate for all industries. If you run a funeral home, it’s safe to say your target audience isn’t looking for giggles. But funny, clever website copy can be appropriate and effective for more businesses than you might think. Give it a try sometime.

What corporate websites do you find amusing? Let us know (in the Comments box below!).

So I was supposed to have a client call today at 3:30, but as it is 4:02 and my phone has not rung, I thought I’d be productive instead of reading about the new cult of Vampires-chic on Slate.com. And in my searching I found a very blog-worthy article on Boston.com, “10 Most Memorable Ads with Boston Ties.” This means they were either created by Boston ad agencies or feature Boston themes/brands. 

My favorite is the Monster  ”When I grow up” spot created my lovely, talented and award-riddled friend, Monica Taylor from Wieden+Kennedy, who I suspect did  not dream of growing up to “file all day” or ever had to “claw her way up to middle management.”   

You can watch them all here. How many do you remember?

I can’t believe two things: One, that there is a cartoon about a girl superhero who loves words. And two, that I didn’t create it, or at the very least for write it.

If you have a young daughter, chances are good you know what I’m talking about: That’s right, Word Girl on PBS Kids. And if not, well, here’s the basic overview:

“In a city gone plum loco, where evil lurks behind almost every corner, a new champion rises up to protect the innocent, right the wrongs and throw around a bunch of pretty impressive words … WORD GIRL!

Word Girl, as the booming announcer voice tells us, hails from the planet Lexicon (I know, brilliant!) with her monkey pilot (a monkey pilot!) named … ready for it? Captain Huggy Face!

Word Girl is … in a word, awesome. Or, fascinating, incredible, marvelous, stunning and wonderful. Take your pick. Word Girl would, right after she saved you from the falling beam that is about to drop on your head from the construction site above.

In trying to assess what is so brilliant about Word Girl, I was reminded of a screenwriting class I took several years ago with the famous Robert McKee. I know a lot of people — especially indy filmmakers — love to hate him. In fact, he was even mocked in the 2002 Spike Jonze film, Adaptation. 

McKee is certainly mock-worthy. He’s a brash, self-righteous, know-it-all who swears a lot. But I would argue that anyone who takes his class walks away a better writer for it.

One thing he said in particular has stayed with me and applies to both screenwriting and copywriting: Never underestimate your audience; they are smarter than you think.

And this is exactly why Word Girl works so well. Unlike so many shows (and products) geared toward girls, Word Girl doesn’t dumb anything down. The show is unabashedly subversive, creative, funny and fresh.

It’s certainly worth checking out. And who knows; you might even learn a new vocabulary word or two. 

You can also see Word Girl being interviewed by Jim Lehrer, where she explains why poor word choice bugs her more than villainy.