Hello, gorgeous!
Last time, I whined about my daily battle with tomato hornworms that are attacking my two precious
patio plants.
So many of you wrote with ideas! I appreciate your emotional support during this difficult time. And for those of you who suggested—yes, I did buy a blacklight. (The worms glow under the
purply beam—it's both cool and really, really gross.)
I sense your burning question today must be... So how's it going?
Not great.
The tiny worms, thin as dental floss, grew fat as gummy worms almost overnight. They mow through a plant with the joyless urgency of someone stress-eating a Costco-size bag of chips. Now that they're bigger, I realize that the horn isn't on its head like a unicorn—but on its butt, like a... well, I don't know what.
Nature's final joke on you: you carefully lift and inspect each leaf—hoping please please please no—but ugh there it is: the ass-horn waving back at you, rude as a middle finger.
If you angrily look at photos of the worm online, you'll see a featureless green dome tapering into a pair of tiny, mechanical jaws. There are no eyes to meet, no hint of conscience or curiosity; no speck of remorse. It looks less like a face and more like the business end of a sentient edamame. If you could lock eyes with it (you can't),
you'd see nothing staring back.
Nevertheless, I'm persisting (fist raised!) (wearing a rubber glove because I can't stand to touch them)—me and my blacklight out there after dark, searching the
jungly chaos that is a tomato plant in August.
What a chore. For all their ubiquity, tomato plants really are babies.
* * *
Today, I have the second part of a quick, skimmable checklist we started last week. Here are the first 12 of 24 questions every content creator should ask themselves.
Forthwith, Part 2!
BTW: The "me/I" in these questions below refers to you, as the writer/creator. These are questions to ask yourself.
24 Questions to Ask Yourself About That Piece You're Writing Right Now
This is 13-24; 1-12 are still here.
13. Is there a better container for this idea?
Would this land stronger as a story, a social rant, a Q&A, a meme, a how-to puppet show?
14. If I deleted my byline/logo...
would anyone recognize this as mine?
15. What emotion am I inviting—and what brain chemical might it trigger?
Great writing doesn't just inform. It evokes.
• Oxytocin = trust (via stories, vulnerability)
• Dopamine = reward (via surprise, payoff)
• Cortisol = attention (via tension and resolution)
• Solanine = existential plant-based panic (triggered by panic botany brought about by tomato hornworms, aphid uprisings, and the collapse of backyard self-sufficiency fantasies)
Just kidding on that last one.
16. What's the real story hiding underneath the surface-level advice?
Can I replace "tips" with a
moment of real tension or a transformation narrative?
17. Is "narrative" too fancy a word for content?
Spoiler: No. And if it's feeling like it is, maybe the content needs to rise to it.
18. Did I let my inner editor cut the best part?
We're told to "kill our darlings." I hate that advice.
We don't always know what's "darling" and what's just indulgent
fluff—not in the moment, anyway. Sometimes the good stuff gets tossed in the dumpster.
Go dumpster-dive! See if what you tossed might actually work. The line that made you laugh out loud, the odd detail
that felt "too much," the tangent you worried was too weird...? Those might be the most memorable parts for your reader.
19. Where can I flip a cliché or
familiar phrase or exaggerate a metaphor to the point of absurdity?
Humor and surprise live there.
20. If I read it out loud—as if I'm a voice actor in the video version—does it sound alive or wooden?
21. What might the comments say?
Are you inviting others into the conversation? Or just blah-blah pontificating?
22. Could I
start with a confession instead of a claim?
Here's an example:
Claim: "75% of marketers say personalization increases ROI." (Eh.)
Confession: "We used to blast the same email to everyone, because it was fast, and it worked. But it turns out we were dead-wrong." (Instant humanity.)
23. Where does this piece let its guard down?
A sly aside, unexpected word choice, the knowing wink, the slightly
unhinged metaphor. There, humanity lives.
24. If this were the only thing someone read from you, would it earn you a subscribe... or even a second
look?
