Implied first person

You’ll also see: first person implied.

Either way, those are funny terms. Aren’t they?

Implied first person writing means pronouns aren’t used. And instead of a pronoun, the sentence starts with an action verb. For example:

I leveraged an existing marketing system leading to a 15% increase in sales.

…becomes…

Leveraged an existing system leading to a 15% increase in sales.

The first is typical writing. The second is typical writing in a resume.

Thank you for stopping by.

Keep an ear out

What’s up, everyone?

Not long ago, I said to keep an ear out at the end of a post.

And this weekend, I was reminded of that. A few instructors and I discussed ways to check your feedback before sending it to a student.

One instructor said, “read it out loud.” As a copywriter, I’m a big fan of this.

I told the group that while it’s something I do, I still have to be careful. Especially when I read something…right after I wrote it. If I do that, I find myself reading it the way I meant to write it. Not the way I actually wrote it. Sometimes I’ll even add or remove words when I’m reading. And I always add tone.

For me. The highest value from reading out loud is a couple of days after I’ve written the thing. This gives me a chance to mentally separate from it.

I know what you’re thinking. And I get it.

We don’t have a couple of days to give that feedback or send the email. It needs to be delivered. And it needs to be delivered…right now.

So, what do I do in this case?

I read it out loud, knowing that I’ll probably read it the way I meant to write it. And then I send it.

We’re not going to be perfect every time, are we?

Hopefully, we’ve done enough work on the reader’s relationship that they give us the benefit of the doubt. But we’ll talk about that later.

For now. Thank you for hanging out with me.

mj

Thank you

When someone does something for you, they’ve given you a gift. The gift of time. Theirs, yours, or maybe both.

That makes it easy to say thank you. And mean it. Doesn’t it?

Plus, it’ll make their day 10x better.

Okay. I made up that last part.

Thank you for coming back again.

If you want to.

This is the type of arrant pedantry up with which I will not put.

Winston Churchill

That quote was a quip from Churchill when someone harassed him about ending a sentence with a preposition.

This grammar rule is pounding into our heads. But is it really that big of a deal?

I was helping someone write feedback one day. She was thinking out loud while clicking the keyboard. I knew exactly where she was going and exactly what she meant.

About three words from finishing, she stopped and said, “Oh no. I’ve worked myself into ending with a proposition.” I stayed quiet. And a few minutes of verbal gymnastics later, the feedback was complete.

The feedback was good either way. The person receiving it would have understood either version perfectly.

Time was the only thing lost.

If the meaning stays intact, take Churchill’s advice. Don’t be afraid to end a sentence with a proposition if you want to.

Did you make the appointment?

Listen to what people are telling you.

Mark McClish

Writing is more than putting words on a screen. It’s communicating.

And part of communicating is listening to what people are telling you. In his book I Know You Are Lying, Mark McClish warns us to look for faux answers. These answers sound like answers but actually evade the question.

For example:

I emailed, “Hey Jon. Did you schedule that appointment we talked about?”

Jon’s replied, “I got on to email last night to do it.”

“So. Did you make the appointment?” I responded.

He followed up with, “No. I got sidetracked. I’ll do it today.”

In the first reply, he “got on email last night to do it.” He didn’t lie, he got on email to do it. But this could have been a yes or no response. I didn’t see either. The second question got it done, though.

Don’t go nuts analyzing EVERYTHING that EVERYONE says. Mark says you won’t have family and friends for long if you analyze everything your family and friends say.

Be direct

  • I tell it like it is.
  • Let me be blunt.
  • I don’t hold my punches.
  • Let’s not beat around the bush.
  • I don’t sugar-coat.
  • As a matter of fact.
  • I’m straightforward.
  • Let me be candid.
  • I speak my mind.

Be direct, sure. But also remember the objective.

Vigilante shovelers

Never use a long word where a short one will do.

George Orwell

A few days ago, I threw some shade on academic writing. I stand by that. But academics aren’t the only ones who do this.

The government is good for this too. In fact, an article from The Free Press tells how some officials are calling for plain-language policies. Instead of “formal, flowery, and jargon-filled prose,” use everyday words that everyone understands.

Funnily. The article goes on to illustrate WHY this is so important. Apparently, because of the obscure, flowery language of the law, residents could be fined for shoveling snow on sidewalks and bike paths. This was not the intent. But it was the interpretation.

Either way. The vigilante shovelers didn’t care.

The article says no one was fined for this anarchy. Nor were there sightings of vigilantes wearing identity-concealing costumes.

Occasionally, you might need to use a long word to make your point. But, whenever possible, use a short word that everyone understands. You’ll have a clearer message. And you’ll sound smarter.

ASAP or as soon as possible

Technically, these mean the same thing.

But…

  • I’d like you to get this done ASAP.
  • I’d like you to get that done as soon as possible.

One sounds more urgent than the other, doesn’t it?

Here’s another…

  • I’d like to get your ideas from the meeting.
  • I’d like to hear your ideas from the meeting.

The first is taking your ideas. The second is sharing.

It’s often subtle. But you’ll know it when you hear it. Keep an ear out.

Every morning

Ted Lasso dropped by his boss’s office and gave her a treat. He also engaged in small talk to build their relationship. At first, it didn’t make the impact he hoped for.

Ted didn’t notice. Or didn’t care. Either way, every morning, he kept bringing freshly baked biscuits in a pink box and shared something about himself.

The same thing happened as I worked on making my writing more likable. I tweaked this. And I tweaked that. At first, I didn’t notice any improvement. No one noticed. Or they didn’t care.

Eventually, Rebecca came around. Your reader will too.

Let’s rewrite

Yesterday, I shared a tip on feedback. Today, I read an academic article on it…actually three.

I don’t know if you’ve read many academic articles. Saraha Desert is the image that comes to mind.

For some reason, reading these articles reminded me of a writing-improvement exercise.

The idea is to find a block of text and rewrite it.

I decided to experiment and randomly picked a paragraph from one of the articles. The goal was at least 100 words but landed on a paragraph with 90. Close enough, right?

Here’s the paragraph from the article:

We live in complex, living and dynamic systems. Order emerges out of these systems in nonlinear ways. The same holds true for teaching and learning. How I learn as a student is not how other students learn. What works for some teachers does not work for others. Teaching and learning in such complex and ever-changing systems cannot be boiled-down to one “right” way–students and teachers make meaning for themselves, play with what is of interest to them, and provide a web of feedback loops within a community of learning.

Here’s my 39-word translation:

Teaching and learning are hard and always changing, just like life. Students and teachers must find their paths and put systems in place to help them succeed, just like life. There’s not one right way, just like life.

I know. Each serves a different purpose.

And I’m not saying mine is right. And, maybe, I destroyed the original meaning. It was an experiment.

Oh! Just for fun, I threw the original in ChatGPT.

Here is its 48-word, 7-second version:

Learning and teaching are complex and ever-changing. Everyone learns differently and what works for one person may not work for another. There is no one “right” way to learn or teach. Students and teachers have to discover what works best for them and learn together as a community.

Hm?