In their article, Gough and Price critically review several business communication textbooks’ differing approaches to teaching ethics.  Before reviewing the findings of their textbook analysis, the authors make several sweeping generalizations about the conditions of ethical decision-making and the circumstances in which these decisions may need to be made.  They’ve done exactly what Dombrowski warns us about: they’ve attempted to technologize ethical decision-making.

While I was reading the Gough and Price article, I was struck by one of the circumstances that they explain calls for ethical considerations.  They explain (and I apologize for the long quote) that ethical considerations are necessary when multiple humans’ interests are at stake:

Ethical considerations occur only in a community or social setting where there is possible conflict between competing interests for scarce resources or the satisfaction of more than one individual’s interests or set of interests. . . For example, it is relatively easy to construct plausible desert island scenarios where no ethical choices are made because there is no possible inter-subjective conflict of interests since only one person’s interests are at stake. (323)

I was immediately interested in this particular example because it seems to imply that human interest is the only concern in ethical decision-making.  That particular quote made me suspicious of the heavy emphasis of human interest and the absence of all non-human (animals, the environment, etc) interests in ethics.  None of this week’s readings even touched upon the notion that non-human factors could potentially influence ethical decision-making in addition to the interests of humans.  I even looked in the textbook I analyzed for this class, and, like this week’s readings, the textbook implies that human interests are the only interests that deserve ethical consideration.  The textbook I analyzed gives students a list of questions to ask themselves when considering the ethics of a technical document, including, “’Am I reasonably sure this document will harm no innocent persons or damage their reputations?’” (Lannon 90).  Again, non-human factors don’t seem to play a role at all in ethical decisions in technical communication.  Are we okay with the suggestion that human interests are the only considerations in ethical decision-making?  Human interests are, of course, of utmost important in ethics, but aren’t other non-human factors involved as well?

While reflecting upon this issue, I immediately think about the debate of dumping nuclear waste.  I don’t think there’s any question that non-human factors have been considered in this debate (the dangers of radioactive materials to the environment, etc).  I wonder, though, if even those non-human concerns are still driven deep down by the interests of humans: have environmental concerns been taken into consideration in this debate out of pure concern for the environment?  Or are we only concerned about the environment in this debate (and others) because of the environment’s effects on human beings?  Is there ever a situation in which environmental concerns are not a means to a human-centered end?

Reflecting upon this borrowing strategy and other collaborative processes has also led me to question the idea of co-authorship in technical documents.  In her article “Engineering Writing/Writing Engineering,” Dorothy A. Winsor explains that the subject of her study, Dr. John Phillips, named his subordinate the co-author of Phillips’ conference paper because the subordinate had written documents that influenced the development of the paper: “The subordinate made only a few minor chances in Phillips’ draft. His ‘co-authorship’ was thus based on the development work [the creation and presentation of six sets of handouts] he had done, as inscribed in the documents Phillips was using” (345).  Although Winsor doesn’t go into much detail about the situation, it seems to me like the subordinate’s documents should have simply appeared in the references list of Phillips’ conference paper rather than the subordinate himself being named a co-author of the paper.

What is the difference, then, between authoring a source of information for someone’s writing and co-authoring the work itself?  Couldn’t we make the hypothetical argument that because every source we use in our writing contributes so heavily to the development of our work that the authors of those sources should be considered “co-authors” of own finished text?  The intertextuality of technical writing is so pervasive that a list of “co-authors” of any given text could be potentially endless.  And the situation is complicated even further when we throw the borrowing strategy from Selzer’s article into the equation.  I suppose my main question is this: Where do we draw the line of the authorship of technical documents when strategies of borrowing from past texts, collaboration, peer feedback, synthesis of past documents, etc are all such integral parts of workplace practice?  Or does authorship even matter at all?

Finally, should the strategy of borrowing text from past documents to construct a new document play a role in technical writing pedagogy?  It seems counterintuitive to expose technical writing students to a writing strategy like this when we’re always hounding them about the dangers of plagiarism and the many ways to avoid it.  When I read that almost half of a working technical writer’s proposal was “borrowed” from past documents (Selzer 320), however, I wonder if it could be at all beneficial to teach students the ethical, productive ways to “borrow” from past texts in constructing new ones, to collaborate in writing technical documents, and to co-author texts.  If so, we need to have a consistent definition of technical documents’ authorship.

Works Cited

Selzer, J. (1983). “The composing process of an engineer.” In J. Johnson-Eilola & S. A. Selber (Eds.), Central works in technical communication (pp. 317–324). New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2004.

Winsor, D. A. (1990). “Engineering writing/writing engineering.” In J. Johnson-Eilola & S. A. Selber (Eds.), Central works in technical communication (pp. 341–350). New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2004.

Barton and Barton propose a solution for the ideological capacity of visual representations when they say that “what is really needed is a new politics of design, one authorizing heterodoxy—a politics where difference is not excluded or repressed, as before, but valorized” (245).  They further explain their ideal scheme of visual design:

Clearly, the governing aesthetic of the visual as collage-palimpsest is not the modernist “less is more” but rather the postmodernist “less is a bore”—an aesthetic that privileges complexity over simplicity and eclecticism over homogeneity, an aesthetic that tends toward the fragmentary and the local, an aesthetic that renounces the driving ambition toward Unity with a capital “U” and “disperses itself among discreet claims and observations.” (248-29)

While I see how a design aesthetic that embraces heterogeneity, complexity , and difference would be ideal, I wonder how much their argument for a postmodern “less is a bore” visual signification aesthetic  would catch on in other genres of technical communication.  For example, some of the most widely accepted, highly regarded technical documents, IKEA instruction manuals, employ visual representations that erase all difference rather than embracing difference like Barton and Barton propose (see below).

The visual representations in these documents are definitely governed by the modernist “less is more” design scheme that embraces homogeneity and Unity with a capital “U,” a design scheme that has undoubtedly been deemed the most effective way to achieve the documents’ goal by highly skilled technical communicators around the world.  I wonder, then, what Barton and Barton would say about IKEA’s particular visual representation aesthetic in terms of their argument on ideology in visual signification.

Works Cited

Barton, B. F., & Barton, M. S. (2004). Ideology and the map: Toward a postmodern visual design practice. In J. Johnson-Eilola & S. A. Selber (Eds.), Central Works in Technical Communication, (pp. 232–252). New York, NY: Oxford University Press.

Salvo, M. J., & Rosinski, P. (2010). Information design: From authoring text to architecting virtual space. In R. Spilka (Ed.), Digital Literacy for Technical Communication: 21st Century Theory and Practice, (pp. 103–127). New York, NY: Routledge.

Technical Communication, written by John M. Lannon, redefines technical communicators beyond simply the transfers of information; this textbook approaches technical writers as managers of information who engage in complex social interactions every single day.  Lannon explains that interpersonal, ethical, legal, and cultural demands are imposed upon technical communicators, and his textbook aims to prepare students to understand and accommodate for those demands in the workplace.  This textbook has a heavy focus on the rhetorical principles that shape technical writing, specifically audience awareness, and forces the specific genres of technical writing (which many textbooks view as central to the role of technical communication) to become secondary to the nuances of the rhetorical situation surrounding the communication.

Writing Process

The writing process is heavily emphasized very early on in this textbook.  Part One of the book entitled “Communicating in the Workplace” most directly focuses on the writing process.  This part of the textbook consists of four chapters that, according to Lannon, are each essential steps in the writing process of a technical communicator: delivering the essential information, exercising persuasive reasoning, weighing the ethical issues, and exercising good teamwork.  In the second chapter on the textbook, Lannon also identifies and explains the main steps in the writing process of technical documents in actual workplace settings.

Aside from the direct references to the writing process in Part One of this textbook, aspects of the writing process like researching, summarizing, organizing, editing, designing visual information, etc are also heavily emphasized throughout the textbook.  In fact, the majority of the textbook (aside from the section on specific documents and applications of them) is dedicated to examining the writing process of a technical communicator.

Rhetoric and Persuasion

Interestingly enough, the word “rhetoric” is never mentioned in this textbook (aside from in the author’s preface to the book) even though issues of emotional appeals, the context of the communication, strategies for shaping the argument, etc are addressed in the text.  There is, however, plenty of information about the role of persuasion in technical communication and the strategies of technical communicators to be persuasive in their writing.  One chapter, called “Being Persuasive,” is specifically dedicated to rhetorical/persuasion issues like identifying your specific communication goal, recognizing the constraints of the situation (legal, organizational, ethical, social, etc), trying to predict audience reaction, offering convincing support for your claims, etc.

Style and Tone

There is one specific chapter of this textbook, “Editing for Readable Style,” that is totally dedicated to explaining the ideal style of technical communicators’ writing and how to achieve that style in technical documents.  This chapter covers topics like editing for clarity (use active voice whenever possible, avoid ambiguous modifiers, etc), editing for conciseness (avoid wordy phrases, avoid excessive prepositions, etc), editing for fluency (vary sentence length and construction, etc), finding the exact words, and adjusting your tone (avoid personal bias, avoid sexist usage, address readers directly, etc).

Document Design

This textbook contains one chapters related to document design: one entitled “Designing Visual Information” and the other called “Designing Pages and Documents.”  The chapter on document design focuses on why design is important in technical communication, specific design skills needed in today’s workplace, using typography and space effectively, etc.

Document Genres and Types of Writing

One fifth of this textbook is focused on specific genres of technical writing.  This part of the textbook addresses memos and electronic correspondence, formal business letters, résumés and cover letters, web pages, technical definition documents, technical description documents, instructions and procedures, proposals, etc.  Within the section dedicated to a specific genre of technical writing, Lannon has identified the purpose and goals of the genre, the audience, the elements/conventions of the genre, and which situations require that genre.

Visuals and Oral Communication

There is one chapter in this book dedicated to visual information (“Designing Visual Information”) and one chapter dedicated to oral communication (“Oral Presentations”).  The chapter on visual information addresses issues like when to use visuals, why visuals matter, the use of color, cultural considerations in visual information, etc.  The chapter on oral presentations includes explanations of advantages and disadvantages of oral communication, planning a presentation, preparing a presentation, delivering a presentation, etc.  Aside from the chapter specifically dedicated to oral presentations, this textbook does not focus on other areas of oral communication in the workplace.

Research and Writing Technologies

Lannon has dedicated one fifth of this textbook to the research process.  He addresses issues like asking the right research questions, evaluating your sources, exploring electronic and print sources, conducting primary research, summarizing and abstracting information, etc.  The research process is also referenced in other sections of the textbook in terms of researching for oral presentations, researching before a job interview, bias in research, writing a research proposal, etc.

There is not a section or chapter of this book dedicated to writing technologies, but Lannon consistently incorporates the role of technology in technical communication throughout this textbook.  He explores ideas of electronic sources in research, the production of web-based documents, electronically mediated collaboration, plagiarism and technology, desktop and electronic publishing, etc.

Overall, I think this textbook could be extremely effective in an undergraduate technical communication course.  I appreciate that the author sees technical communicators as more the transporters of information, I value his focus on audience awareness, and I find it refreshing that textbook first and foremost explains and illustrates the rhetorical principles surrounding technical communication before showing their application in various documents.  I also love that Lannon focuses on application beyond the classroom, has included plenty of information about the place of technology in technical communication, emphasizes the importance of collaboration in technical communication, and makes a point to provide collaborative and service-learning project ideas at the end of each chapter.

Lannon, J. M. (2007). Technical Communication (11th ed.). Longman.

Based on our qualitative analysis, these components should especially focus on helping students (a) translate verbal information into specific visual details that work persuasively, (b) recognize and use the multifaceted capacity of images (rather than assume that an image represents only a single and specific verbal message), (c) frame and arrange elements more deliberately within the space of a page, (d) integrate and layer words and visuals to develop depth and complexity, (e) establish a hierarchy, and (f) direct white space, not simply to make the design more aesthetically pleasing but to focus attention and support arguments. (207)

I also don’t think we can argue with how those particular skills learned through visual thinking translate into the demands of today’s technical and professional writers.  Brumberger explains, “Technology has brought rapid change to the field of professional communication, recasting the writer in a role that requires aptitude in a number of domains.  The field has recognized that visual communication is among the most important of these domains, particularly because it transcends the border between print and digital text and is therefore central to the notion of multiliteracies” (397).

While I absolutely see the benefit of technical professional and technical writing as a strategic relationship between verbal and visual communication, I’m not sure how practical it would be to expect technical writing teachers to teach their students theories and applications of both verbal and visual communications in one semester.  I think it would be more practical for our students to learn the basic theories of visual communication (the principles of design, visual literacy, a vocabulary of the visual, etc) in another class just as they learn the basic theories of verbal communication in other classes (English 101, English 102, etc).  That way,  their technical or professional writing course could become the place in which they purposefully apply those theories of verbal and visual communication.

Lauer and Sanchez hint at this idea when they explain, “And most business communication (and related) programs have not historically required a course in visual communication or even recommended it as an elective.  This represents a fundamental disconnect between the focus of instruction and the demands of the workplace” (186).  They also explain how students in technical/professional writing courses have extremely varying visuospatial abilities and exposure to visual thinking; they note that technical writing instructors may find it difficult to accommodate for those differences.  Requiring our students to take a course on the principles of visual communication in addition to their already required technical or professional writing course would allow the students to go into the technical writing course with some background knowledge on visual thinking; technical writing teachers wouldn’t have to rely solely on “the inherent capacities that each learner brings to the learning arena” (187).  Then, the technical writing instructor could move beyond simply teaching visual thinking to the practical application of that means of communication in the technical and professional writing field.

*Interestingly enough, WVU does offer an undergraduate course on visual communication through the School of Journalism.  The course, Visual Journalism 210, focuses on several aspects of visual thinking: “Theory and principles of visual communication and image culture. Visual literacy, critical thinking, and ethics by visual journalists in digital media.  Software applications for photography, graphic design, video and web publishing.”  Would it benefit technical writing students to take a course like this before taking technical writing so that the technical writing curriculum could build upon these ideas of visual communication?

 Works Cited

Brumberger, E. R. (2007). “Making the strange familiar: A pedagogical exploration of visual thinking.” Journal of Business and Technical Communication, 21(4), 376–401.

Lauer, C. & Sanchez, C. A. (2011). “Visuospatial Thinking in the Professional Writing Classroom.” Journal of Business and Technical Communication, 25(2), 184–218.

I definitely agree with Bernhardt that defining the characteristics of digital texts can be beneficial to understanding the genre; I found the majority of this article, the parts that made unbiased assessments of the dimensions of digital texts, to be informative and insightful.  I found there to be several instances, however, in which Bernhardt seems to covertly make the argument that digital texts have some inherent value beyond that of print texts because of those dimensions.  Bernhardt makes several claims in this article that seem to validate the worth of digital texts by diminishing the value of print text: “writers of print material cannot force the interaction, they can only invite it,” (413) “readers of novels are constrained by the linearity of the text,” (413) “the traditional cues of paper texts–margins, indents, paragraphs, page numbers–appear impoverished next to the rapidly expanding set of cues that facilitate functional writing and reading on screen,” (416) etc.

Throughout this article, it seems like what started out as a list of characteristics of digital texts in comparison to print texts morphed into a list of advantages of digital texts in comparison to print texts.  I don’t find a list like this to be particularly useful, especially to students, on its own; it would be useful, however, to compare the rhetorical situations in which digital texts would be more appropriate than print texts (and vice versa) based on the textual affordances and constraints of each genres.  In Nicholas Carr’s article in The Atlantic entitled “Is Google Making Us Stupid?,” Carr explains the benefits of the deep thinking that print, not digital, texts produce:

The kind of deep reading that a sequence of printed pages promotes is valuable not just for the knowledge we acquire from the author’s words but for the intellectual vibrations those words set off within our minds.  In the quiet spaces opened up by the sustained, undistracted reading of a book, or by any other act of contemplation, for that matter, we make our own associations, draw our own inferences and analogies, foster our own ideas.  Deep reading . . . is indistinguishable from deep thinking.  If we lose those quiet spaces, or fill them up with ‘content,’ we will sacrifice something important not only in ourselves but in our culture. (par. 30-31)

I absolutely think that technical writing students could benefit from analyzing the various situations in which this deep thinking outlined by Carr would be more advantageous than the thought produced by interactive, modular, layered texts of digital genres.

Again, I found the majority of Bernhardt’s article to be quite innovative (for its time) and still relevant today.  I don’t think Berhardt’s intention was to favor digital texts over print texts, but his examples, at times, did just that.  When paired with another article that outlines the strengths of print genres, this article has the potential to initiate an important conversation in the technical writing classroom.  I think it’s much more productive for students and professionals of technical communication in the digital age to discuss the strengths and weaknesses of both digital and print genres of text rather than focusing solely on the strengths of one of the genres.  In my opinion, we can best use critical analyses of the genres (like the dimensions of digital texts presented in Bernhardt’s article) to successfully identify the rhetorical situations in which one of the genres is more advantageous than the other.

Works Cited

Bernhardt, Stephen A. “The Shape of Text to Come.” Central Works in Technical Communication. Eds. Johndan Johnson-Eiola and Stuart A. Selber. New York: Oxford University Press, 2004. 410-427. Print.

Carr, Nicholas. “Is Google Making Us Stupid?” The Atlantic Aug. 2008. Web. 7 Oct. 2012.

I found Wilson’s anecdote about his transition from the professional world to the academic world of technical communication to be quite enlightening.  After learning of the possibilities of looking at technical communication through a postmodern lens, Wilson’s initial reaction was to dismiss those innovative possibilities because “’that’s just not the way things are!’” (81).  I think we can all agree that our first reaction when we encounter ways of looking at and experiencing technical communication that are different from the ways we “actually” do things in the workplace is just like Wilson’s, to think that the new ways can’t possibly be useful because they aren’t practiced in the “real world.”  The take-home message from that anecdote, however, can also be an extremely important lesson for all of us to keep in mind as we continue to critique new theories and practices of technical writing: our students are not in our classes for job training, they’re in our classes for an education that goes above and beyond vocational training.  Wilson argues, “Employees are not simply subjects of the rules in the corporate world; they also help constitute and invent the rules through their actions” (78).  If we keep this idea in mind, we may not be so quick to dismiss theories of technical writing that challenge current workplace practices.

In addition to this article convincing me to stop dismissing theories of technical communication that challenge current workplace practices, it also successfully made me reconceptualize how I would approach technical communication pedagogy.  In my opinion, this is one of the first articles I have read that has significantly changed the way I think technical writing instruction should function.  Wilson argues, “The workplace (even more so the postmodern workplace) does not come in a neat package like some assignments or end-of-chapter exercises. Teaching our students to view the world as if it does constrains their thinking and their ability to see new possibilities” (87).  While I think we would be doing our students a disservice by not exposing them to the basic genres of technical writing, I absolutely agree that students will benefit much more from interpreting skills of abstraction, systems thinking, experimentation, and collaboration to technical communication than they would from only learning the formats and conventions of technical communication genes.

While I absolutely buy into Wilson’s pedagogical strategies, I also recognize that technical writing instructors often resort to teaching through the modern lens rather than the postmodern lens because it is much more accessible to the students.  Wilson explains, “Many of these students tend to be concrete thinkers, but when they do think abstractly, it is in a modernist sense: abstraction according to a specified set of rules” (87).  It is understandable, then, that an instructor would teach technical communication “according to a specified set of rules,” an approach that is already familiar and comfortable to these students.  Many of the students in technical writing courses, at least at WVU, are quite unfamiliar with writing, so it seems natural to present the unfamiliar subject through a lens with which the students could relate most easily.  After reading the New Instructor Resources for English 304 and 305, it seems to me that this is generally the approach that is taken here at WVU (of course, it is much easier to identify the parts of a syllabus that favor technical writing as a set of rules or conventions than it is to decipher to what extent the instructor encourages abstraction, experimentation, etc).  I haven’t taught either 304 or 305, so I wonder how much the current 305 instructors (Eric? Ashleigh?) think they favor either modern or postmodern pedagogical strategies in their classrooms.  Could the best approach be to find a balance between modern technical communication pedagogy and postmodern pedagogy so that the students could become familiar with genres of technical writing “according to a specified set of rules” while also working on other projects and assignments that focus on abstraction, systems thinking, experimentation, and collaboration?

Works Cited

Wilson, Greg. “Technical Communication and Late Capitalism: Considering a Postmodern Technical Communication Pedagogy.” Journal of Business and Technical Communication 15.1 (2001): 72–99. PDF.

To conclude his article and to summarize his main argument of this article, Faigley says, “If the teaching of writing is to reach disciplinary status, it will be achieved through recognition that writing processes are, as Stanley Fish says of linguistic knowledge, ‘contextual rather than abstract, local rather than general, dynamic rather than invariant’” (438). I absolutely agree with the argument that theories of writing processes must be applied according to the context of the discourse. I am convinced that exclusively encouraging one theory of the writing process over another severely restricts the success of our composition instruction. All of us can attest to the fact that no two students learn the same way or write using the same processes; favoring one process over another diminishes the value of the myriad methods we have all found in producing successful pieces of writing. Like Faigley, I think we should instead apply various theories of the writing process to appropriate contexts of writing; our writing process should be dictated by the rhetorical situation of the discourse.

Just as we should apply theories of writing process to various appropriate rhetorical situations, I argue that visualizations of professional writing activities should also focus on specific contextual applications rather than applicablity in all rhetorical situations. In their article “Visualizing Writing Activity as Knowledge Work: Challenges and Opportunities,” William Hart-Davidson, Clay Spinuzzi, and Mark Zachry identify six characteristics of successful writing practice visualizations: data driven, represented by explicit but flexible categories, interactive, portable, timely, and able to answer key questions (75). I agree that each of these criterion contributed to an effective visualization of writing activities, but I argue that the last criterion is more important than the others.  An effective writing activity visualization should be “able to be extended and configured to become contextual beyond the point of being simply domain-aware, up to and including being personalized for an individual’s unique reasoning needs” (75).  Just as Faigley argues that we should apply different theories of writing processes to different rhetorical situation, so too must visualizations of writing processes also apply to various rhetorical situations. The key to both a theory of writing process and visualizations of writing activities is applicability to various rhetorical situations. If either of these is too specific (like the three theories of writing process outlined in Faigley’s article) or too general, growth in the field will inevitably be limited.

Works Cited

Faigley, Lester. “Competing Theories of Process: A Critique and a Proposal.” College English 48.6. (1986): 527-542. PDF.

Hart-Davidson, William, Clay Spinuzzi, and Mark Zachry. “Visualizing Writing Activity as Knowledge Work: Challenges & Opportunities.” ACM SIGDOC. (2006): 70-77. PDF.

I find this argument to be particularly interesting in its discussion of the binary between those in technical writing who favor practice and those who favor theory.  We have had several conversations during our class sessions, during last week’s session specifically, about the “tension” between technical communication through the lens of the academy and technical communication through the lens of the workplace.  In my opinion, Sullivan and Porter perfectly describe this tension:

“The cartoon version of this debate pits the working technical writer (who thinks the academics are theoretical people who are out of touch with the ‘real world’ and who cannot program their VCRs) against the academic professional writing teaching (who sees working professionals as people who have no time to read, think or reflect and who are more interested in what they are doing than in why).” (302)

In their discussion of this opposition, Sullivan and Porter seem to recognize the tension that we’ve been discussing in class.  They posit, however, that the debate is less concerned with the academy versus the workplace and more concerned with theory versus practice.  The writers argue that theory and practice are presented in binary opposition to one another  even in technical communication classrooms in which particular pedagogical strategies cater to either theory or practice rather than a marriage between the two.

This particular issue, the privileging of theory or practice in the technical communication classroom, is of particular interest to me.  Within the realm of this issue, Sullivan and Porter explain the experience of a technical communication student, Max, in interacting with specific users and revising documents according to their feedback.  They conclude that Max was “not ‘attuned’ enough to practice, not sensitive enough to his data, to his observations of users; we could also say that he was not conscious enough of his own theory” (306).  Essentially, Sullivan and Porter conclude that while the theoretical presence was there (“practice cannot be athetorical” (306)), Max failed to recognize any rhetorical theory of the situation which may have helped him respond to the users in less predictable, formulaic, more creative, knowledge-producing ways.  While I appreciate Sullivan and Porter’s argument for approaching research as praxis, I wonder how this concept could be successfully integrated into technical communication pedagogy.  A roomful of graduate students with various allegiances to either practice or to theory have been unable to come to a consensus about practical applications for a marriage of the theory and practice; how can we expect our students who have no workplace experience and working technical writers who may have no loyalty to academia to wrestle with this argument?  Essentially, my greatest concern is in the practical application, especially in regards to undergraduate students, of this research as praxis argument.

Works Cited

Porter, James E., and Patricia Sullivan. “On Theory, Practice, and Method: Toward a Heuristic Research Methodology for Professional Writing.” Central Works in Technical Communication. Eds. Johndan Johnson-Eilola and Suart A. Selber. New York: Oxford, 2004. 300-313. Print.