Chapter IV

The Aspirant

When you have decided to become an outside contributor you are entitled to

call yourself by the proud title of "journalistic aspirant."

The procedure of the aspirant is usually this:--

She casts about for a subject on which to write, and according to her

temperament and circumstances she will certainly choose one of six

things:--"A Spring Reverie" (or it may be "An Autumn Reverie," as the time

of year suits); or "Elsie, a character sketch" (describing one of those

insufferably angelic women whom happily God never made); or "Hints on

Economy in Dress"; or "My First Bicycle Ride"; or an exposure of the New

Woman; or, lastly, a short story, probably styled "An Incident." and

beginning: "Enid Anstruther had come to the end of her resources. As she

sat by the fire that winter afternoon, the glow of the red coal playing on

her soft brown hair, she reflected with a grim smile that," &c., &c.

The aspirant, left to herself, never goes beyond these six topics for her

first venture.

Having written the thing, she copies it out in a hand as fair as she can

compass (or, if she can afford the expense, gets it typewritten)--on one

side of the paper only. She has read somewhere that manuscripts should be

on one side of the paper only, and that they have a better chance of

acceptance if typewritten. Next she stitches the sheets together, as a

rule with black cotton; occasionally she uses a safety-pin for safety.

Then she composes a pretty letter to the editor of the paper with which

she happens to be most familiar, telling him that she is anxious to make a

little money (though not dependent on her earnings for a livelihood), and

hopes he will come to a decision on her article at his earliest

convenience; she adds that she has always admired his journal, and would

esteem it a great honour to be counted among his contributors.

She has previously determined to keep the whole affair a profound secret,

but at the last moment she cannot refrain from showing the production, in

strict confidence, to some near and dear one. This person either

pronounces it to be really splendid, or damns it with a polite sneer; but

whatever the event, her own golden opinion of her work is confirmed. In

the act of dispatching the missive she suddenly remembers that the correct

thing is to send a stamped envelope for return; she does so, only the

envelope which she encloses is usually much too small to hold the

manuscript.

So the article goes forth. A few days pass, and the aspirant is beginning

to meditate upon the best manner of spending the money to be received for

it, when lo! it returns....

* * * * *

Needless to say, the aspirant has set about the difficult business of

becoming an outside contributor in quite the wrong way. Before daring to

enter upon the writing of an article, it is needful that she should, in

particular, make a study of four important subjects:--

1. The distinguishing characteristics, policy, and general tone of all

the leading dailies, weeklies, and monthlies.

2. Spelling.

3. Grammar.

4. Composition, including punctuation. I will deal briefly with these

four.

1. The object of the journalistic aspirant is to supply a demand. But in

order successfully to supply a demand, it is necessary to know with some

exactitude the nature of that demand. Of what use to send stuff to editors

until you have determined what sort of stuff they lack? To obtain this

valuable information (since editors do not often issue circulars defining

their wants) the only way is to make a scrutiny of their papers. Go daily,

therefore, to a public reading-room, and examine attentively, observantly,

the contents of the various publications. Ignore no paper because it has

little interest for you personally, or because you have never heard its

name before. The more papers you are familiar with, the wider your field

for the disposal of articles. The outside contributor can never tell what

paper must serve her turn next. At any moment a subject may occur to her

which will suit, say, _The Pottery Gazette and China and Glass Trades

Review_, and only _The Pottery Gazette and China and Glass Trades

Review._ Study styles and subjects and idiosyncrasies, and count no

detail unworthy of attention. The importance to the aspirant of this

branch of self-training can scarcely be magnified.

2. Few men and very few women can be trusted to spell correctly every word

in common use. I have seen the MSS. of many of the foremost women

journalists of the day, and have found orthographic errors in nearly all

of them. Of course spelling is not a matter of the highest importance--a

certain great English novelist is notoriously incompetent in this respect,

and relies upon his printers--but it deserves attention. Bad spelling

spoils the appearance of the cleverest article, and raises a prejudice

against it in the editorial mind. And not all bad spellers have the

ingenuity of Mr. Umbrage of _The Silchester Mirror_, in Mr. J. M.

Barrie's novel, _When a Man's Single_:--

"When Umbrage returned, Billy Kirker, the chief reporter, was denouncing

John Milton [the junior reporter] for not being able to tell him how to

spell 'deceive.'

"'What is the use of you?' he asked indignantly, 'if you can't do a simple

thing like that?'

"'Say "cheat,"' suggested Umbrage.

"So Kirker wrote 'cheat.'"

I think, however, that women have at last learnt to spell words ending in

_ieve_ and _eive_. They go astray nowadays in _ance_ and _ence_; also

in _seperate_ and _irresistable_, and in the past participles of

verbs ending in _it_.

The simplest and best way to cure a case of weak spelling is to hand the

dictionary to some wise friend, and ask him or her to question you. A

quarter of an hour daily devoted to this treatment will effect a

remarkable improvement, even when the patient happens to think there is no

room for improvement.

3. Grammar, I suppose, is taught in girls' schools on approved modern

principles; nevertheless few women seem to have any acquaintance with it.

Yet grammar is not a difficult study, nor a lengthy one, and an

understanding knowledge of its principles is of the greatest assistance in

the formation of a good literary style. This is a truism: that is why it

needs saying again.

You will find Dr. Richard Morris's _Primer of English Grammar_

(Macmillans, _1s_.), with Mr. John Wetherell's _Exercises on

Morris's English Grammar_ (same publishers and price), very useful,

and, though they are small books, quite adequate to your needs. Both can

be mastered in a month. The first business is to learn to parse. To parse

is "to explain the duty each word performs in a sentence: that is, to tell

the relation each word bears to the rest in a sentence:" the definition

clearly shows how indispensable to a writer is some skill in parsing. Of

course many of the exercises are set obviously for children, but

sufficient remain to puzzle the woman of average intelligence. That lady

might, for example, have a difficulty in parsing the italicised words in

the following: "My cap, having _stuck on_ a long _time_, now

went _whirling_ down the lane." Afterwards comes analysis--the

breaking up of a sentence into its component parts--not less urgent than

parsing. This branch of the subject is treated well and thoroughly in Mr.

Wetherell's book, and his exercises should be worked through

conscientiously. Note further, in the same primer, the division relating

to syntax, and especially the exercises on pp. 74, 75. The chapter on

conjunctions is also of serious importance to women.

4. By "composition," I mean merely the art of writing without

transgressing the rules of grammar and kindred canons by which all writers

agree to be bound. The higher matter of "style" will be treated in the

next chapter.

The best book on this subject is Professor Nichol's _English

Composition_ (Macmillan's, 1s.). It is small, but it omits no point on

which beginners are likely to err. Women should give particular attention

to the following:--

False concords, p. 22.

Purity in the use of words, p. 33.

Want of discrimination between synonyms, p. 39.

Carelessness as to the meaning of sentences, p. 42.

The use of relatives, p. 52. Professor Nichol most truthfully says: "The

most fertile source of confusion in English is a slovenly use of

relatives."

Arrangement, p. 63.

For guidance as to punctuation, study _Stops_, by Paul Allardyce (F.

Fisher Unwin, 1s.). No book, however, could possibly deal with every point

likely to arise under our wonderful English system of punctuation. It is

an excellent plan to read aloud any sentence which presents a difficulty,

and to punctuate it according to the pauses made (almost unconsciously) by

the voice. This method is well-nigh infallible. If doubt still remains,

remember that it is better to punctuate too little than too much.

* * * * *

Concurrently with the study of newspapers, spelling, grammar, and

composition, the aspirant must make a practice of writing daily a short

interesting description (say five hundred words) of some event or scene

personally observed during the day. Nothing should be allowed to interfere

with the regularity of this exercise, which is essential, not only for the

improvement of style, but also for the sharpening of that faculty of

subject-selection so necessary to the journalist. It is idle to say:

"Nothing interesting ever happens within _my_ ken," There is no

event, no scene, but has its interesting aspect. Your business, madam, is

to discover that aspect.

* * * * *

It may be well to state here that neither shorthand nor typewriting is

requisite to the ultimate success of the journalistic aspirant. The common

notion that shorthand is part of the equipment of every journalist is

quite wrong. If, however, the aspirant possesses a typewriter and the

skill to use it, she will of course be able to get her articles

transcribed for nothing.

Journalism for Women: A Practical Guide · 第 4 / 11 章