A True Critic

Po Bronson co-wrote the book Nurture Shock, and after reading his Red Room blog of Jan 19, 2011, I’ve concluded that I can’t critique what he’s written. Why? Because I haven’t raised kids myself, where it worked out great, and then endeavored to write about it. 

Doing things the wrong way and realizing it didn’t work, doesn’t make anyone an authority on a subject. Henry Ford observed the way automobiles were being made and knew it wasn’t working. But it wasn’t until he actually came up with the solution of an assembly line method of production, and proved that it worked, that his way became the standard for comparison. 

It’s not until you’ve actually experienced what it’s like to do something right and you've proven what works – where it turns out the *best* - that you perhaps become an authority on the subject. At that point, you’ve actually earned the right to be a true critic. At least, that is what I've come to believe about myself.

Review: Conversations with My Dog

I often coin the phrase "conversations with a dog," referring to what my husband and I both do when we are in relaxing conversation or enjoying a movie, and our attention is diverted by our lovable Cocker, Ginger, thinking she needs to get in on it. More than once I've commented that I thought this quip would make a great book title, so today I googled it. I found one written by a motivational speaker and author I was quite familiar with, so I read it. Here is my review of Conversations with My Dog by Zig Ziglar:


When deciding to read Zig Ziglar's book, I think there are 2 necessary ingredients the reader must have:

1) You don't want this to be your initial exposure to Zig Ziglar; i.e. you would have to be somewhat acquainted with him, at least through his other books, to know what to expect from these conversations. Then, they actually become quite humorous.

2) You would need to have some understanding of what it is to own, love and live with a small dog. Without that experience, it would be more difficult for the mind to actually understand and "allow" these particular conversations.

Having said this, I believe that small dogs (such as his Corgi) would not be so verbose, as he makes his out to be, especially if they're beginning to tire or get frustrated. I also believe it would've been more effective to introduce the human-comparisons in each scenario as reflective thought at the end of the day - away from the dog - rather than interrupting my suspended disbelief, at that somewhat intimate moment in time when the conversation is taking place with his dog. Each incident would then have been more of a fabled tale or anecdote with the moral given at the end of it all, making it much easier to glean the gems of insight and truth.

Sometimes I feel we, as writers, need to do just one more re-write, for that is where truly great writing lies: in the re-writes!