The creative urge: kids, try this at home! Writing "editorials!" is not the only choice you have.

I'm doing battle with The Voice of Shirley.

Luckily, I'm not alone.

The Voice of Shirley is my pet name for ... well, for the voice of Shirley, the Shirley in question being our old NCEW colleague Shirley Ragsdale, who at the time in question was editorial page editor at the Argus Leader in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. And the voice in question? Something she must have channeled that very morning; I'd never heard her sound quite that way before.

This was a few years ago, during one of my "Getting Your Words' Worth" workshops at the American Press Institute; Shirley was describing for her colleagues her various responsibilities on the Argus Leader's opinion pages. That's when it happened.

"I write one column a week," she said. "And --" and here her voice suddenly dropped an octave or two, and gained a few decibels." -- I write editorials!"

The Voice of Shirley -- that thunderous, shafts-of-heaven-streaming-through-the-clouds tone we've all heard so often on editorial pages. As it happens, Shirley -- the person, not the voice -- was generally able to steer her own writing clear of her namesake. (She's since gone on to become a columnist, and then religion editor, at the Des Moines Register.) But there were plenty of appreciative chuckles around the table that day; we all knew exactly what she meant. Sometimes The Voice of Shirley shows up as the basso-profundo sound of the Lord, other times merely the noise of a thousand seraphim sucking their thumbs -- ambidextrously, of course.

Or consider a few choice comments I've lifted from our esteemed (and occasionally, steamed) colleague Richard Aregood, who runs the Star-Ledger's editorial page in Newark.

"The whole question," Rich suggested during a discussion on the NCEW listserv a while back, "is the personality the newspaper has chosen for itself. Alas, most have chosen the personality of the boring guy everybody avoids at the Rotary Club."

Typically, I toss Rich's dart onto the overhead projector and ask the class, "Sound like any editorial pages you've ever read?" Typically, the Blushometer goes right off the chart.

Thunderous. Timorous. Ponderous. The usual suspects, doing the usual things in the usual ways. Editorial writers write "editorials!" because they think that's the only choice they have.

But it doesn't have to be like that.

And sometimes it's not.

One of the things I like best about the workshops is the chance to play Johnny Apple-seed, to spread the word about the creative thinking and inspired writing I've encountered on editorial pages all across the country. The frequent reaction? (And I'm paraphrasing only slightly here.) "I didn't know we could do that!"

A little show-and-tell really opens people's eyes to the possibilities, and encourages them to look for imaginative, reader-engaging, effective approaches of their own. I seldom do a workshop these days without soliciting "pushing the envelope" pieces from the participants, and I seldom leave town without another sample or two to add to my collection.

* I'm thinking of the Detroit Free Press editorial board trying to scare up some high-quality contenders for the city's mayoral race. So the board placed a want ad -- right in the middle of the editorial stack.

Country's 10th largest city seeks vibrant leader.

The ideal candidate will continue outreach to business and suburban community; while increasing service to nearly 1 million citizen customers....

Vision, decisiveness, thick skin, strong back required. Ability to make criticism work to your advantage a plus...."

It's not just the ad-like typography that makes this one fly -- it's the note-perfect rendition of a classified's pared-down style.

* I'm thinking of Laurie Roberts of the Arizona Republic reacting to some elite Eastern colleges' attempts to root out any trace of teenspeak on their campuses.

They seem to, you know, sort of think that today's students might, you know, have trouble getting, I mean, their point and stuff across when they like, get out into the real world. They say that TV has, like, totally caused a decline and stuff -- since; like, the 1960's -- in, like, vocabulary; and verbal SAT scores. Whatever.

* And I'm thinking of Ron Meador of the Star Tribune in Minneapolis protesting an effort to purge school library shelves of -- here, read a few lines for yourself:

Carly Beth couldn't breath. Neither could Sabrina.

They huddled under Mrs. Swenson's desk, trembling. The creature's foul stench filled the darkened school library which had now grown freezing cold.

There was only one way out -- the main door.... And that's where the creature sat, moaning and poking its long, blue nose into the battered little books. Its tiny eyes glowed with fury. Its thin prissy lips twitched as it muttered over the pages.

"Horrible, oh, horrible!" it rasped. ... "Bad values!" it wailed. "Heartless! Tasteless! Pitiless! Utterly without redeeming literary merit! R.L. Stine is no R.L. Stevenson, that's for sure!"

Writing like that can give you Goosebumps. Want more? I've got more.

* In Baltimore, the cops-and-courts system had largely broken down, and the Sun's Steve Henderson decided that attention must be paid. So he told his readers to do exactly what they'd been doing.

Keep quiet, Baltimore.

Keep quiet about the 4,000 recidivists who run city streets, committing crimes with increasing bravado and little fear of punishment. Keep quiet when probable murderers slap hands and embrace in court after they walk free.

Say nothing about a police department that can't solve more than half the 300 city murders each year. Or homicide detectives who trash important evidence before trials. Or prosecutors and judges who can't or won't stop the delays that so often set criminals free....

Keep quiet if you will, but know that your silence and your lack of outrage over the pathetic state of this city's criminal justice system make you an accomplice to the mayhem. Your silence kills....

* In Ashland, Wisconsin, Claire Duquette of the Daily Press tackled a nearby annoyance with an editorial that began this way:

There. Are. Many. New Stop. Signs. In. The. City. Of. Washburn.

* And let's not forget Aregood's alma mater, the Philadelphia Daily News, which dove into a dispute between those who favored thinning a herd of wild deer in a local park and certain animal-rights activists who favored no such thing. Sandy Shea came down on the side of the thinners.

That doesn't quite describe it. Sandy offered a recipe for venison stew.

You didn't know you could do that.

RELATED ARTICLE: An editorial from the Philadelphia Daily News:

What's cookin', deer?

For eight weeks, sharpshooters have culled 429 deer from Fairmount Park. The huge and hungry deer population has been a threat to other plant and animal life, since their numbers far exceed the park's ability to sustain them, a fact lost on local animal-rights activists. As a public service, we provide the following recipe for venison stew:

2    lb venison
3    lg onions, coarsely chopped
2    garlic cloves, crushed
1    tb Worcestershire sauce
1    bay leaf
1    teaspoon dried oregano
7    potatoes, peeled and quartered
1    lb carrots, cut into 1-inch pieces
1/4  cup all-purpose flour

Heat 2T of oil in Dutch oven. Brown 2 pounds of venison stewmeat. Add onions, garlic, Worcestershire sauce, bay leaf, oregano, 1 tsp. each of salt and pepper to 3 cups of water. Simmer, covered, 1 1/2 to 2 hours or until meat is tender. Add potatoes and carrots. Continue to cook until vegetables are tender, about 30-45 minutes. Mix flour with 1/4 c. cold water; stir into stew. Cook and stir until thickened.

P.S. You're welcome to cut this out and keep it ... for next year.

NCEW member Rick Horowitz is a syndicated columnist and writing coach based in Milwaukee. E-mail him at [e-mail]