Month: February 2023

I didn’t even remember typing it. But I noticed this phrase when editing something I wrote this morning.

I changed it to a more concise “now.”

That got me thinking about other wordy phrases I use…without even noticing them. I could have used my memory. But at my age, that’ll fail me.

Instead, I looked at the discussion boards in my classes because it is about as close to a transcript of a conversation I have…without actually having a conversation. And, save spelling errors, I do a minimal amount of editing.

There’s one. I do a minimal amount of editing. Instead of, I do minimal editing.

Here is a list of unnecessary words. – Followed by the better way.

• I do the exact same thing!!! – I do the same thing!
• In my opinion, it’s a bad idea. – It’s a bad idea. Or, if I want to hedge, I think it’s a bad idea.
• Can you summarize briefly what happened? – Can you summarize the results?
• This is really good stuff. – This is fantastic.
• This is a statically insignificant event that almost never happens. – This seldom happens. Or, this is a rare event.

Is anyone hurt by throwing in an extra word every now and then? No

Does the reader know what I meant? Yes.

But if you can say something with fewer words, why not?

Many have used a version of this, but Thomas Jefferson said it best, “The most valuable of all talents is that of never using two words when one will do.”

A student called and asked how to negotiate his compensation package through email. My answer was…

Don’t.

In many ways, writing is as good as speaking to someone face-to-face. And in a lot of ways, it’s better.

But negotiating effectively is NOT one of those ways. There is waaaay too much nuance.

If you are forced to negotiate via email, negotiate a time and place to meet with the person.

I know. This is the most cringe-worthy thing someone can say.

But there are three reasons I create an outline for anything I write.

1. Ideation
   • Oftentimes, I think I’ve got just one idea. But as I start writing, I realize one idea is two ideas…or ten. And that causes a foggy message.
   • Outlining lets me see all the ideas in relation to one another. This helps me focus on the most important, relevant ideas with a clear organization.
2. Organization
   • Once I have everything in order, I can make sure the supporting points move the reader, give them enough information to make an informed decision, or jettison the idea.
   • Now that I have the idea(s) focused, outlining helps me see if they are in the correct order. Should organization come before ideation? Or maybe I should put concision at the top. Actually, this makes more sense: ideation, organization, concision.
3. Concision
   • Knowing where I am going helps wrap up one idea and smoothly transition to the next. Maybe even squeeze in an anaphora or idiom.
   • I have the ability to get off track and into the weeds quickly. This is why I’m not a great speaker. When I am writing, the outline keeps me on track and helps me write more clearly.

I know, clearly, that seems like extra work. Work you don’t need to do. But if you do it, you will save time.

Thanks for stopping by.

The first skill on your resume has two jobs:

1. Get the hiring manager to say, “Oh! I need that.”
2. Get the hiring manager to move to the second skill and say, “Oh! I need that too.”

You never know where they will stop reading. When they stop, they’ll say I don’t need that. That’s nice…but I don’t really need that. Or…

…I need that too.

Tom Brady posted a 1-minute, 118-word retirement video. I’m not a huge football fan, but the video was all over my Twitter feed. I had no choice except to watch it. As I watched, I noticed there were a few business-writing lessons:

Get to the point. The first two lines tell you why he’s talking to you.

Avoid droning. He created a great flow, with an excellent mix of short, punchy sentences with some longer ones.

Avoid dredging. He didn’t go into a lengthy rehashing of his retirement from a year ago. He simply referenced it.

Show vulnerability. His second paragraph was a little longer than necessary. But he was clearly emotional.

Say thank you. He did that.

Here is the transcript:

Good morning, guys. I’ll get to the point right away. I’m retiring for good. I know the process was a pretty big deal last time, so when I woke up this morning I figured I’d just press record and let you guys know first. So I won’t be long-winded. I think you only get one super-emotional retirement essay, and Iused mine up last year.

So I really thank you guys so much, to every single one of you for supporting me– my family, my friends, my teammates, my competitors. I could go on forever. There’s too many. Thank you, guys, for allowing me to live my absolute dream. I wouldn’t change a thing. I love you all.

Thank you for hanging out.

…when…

• Tired
• Hungry
• Angry

This includes, but is not limited to…

• Grading/Reviewing
• Replying/Emailing
• Tweeting/[insert social media of choice here]

You’re welcome.

And thank you for stopping by every day.

H/T JH

Those who know me find this hard to believe. But it’s true.

No one’s perfect. And that’s good.

Let’s do a little imagination experiment, shall we?

Close your eyes.

Now. Imagine if EVERYTHING you did was right the first time. You NEVER mess up anything. EVERYTHING falls right in place.

How boring would life be if that were the case?

Okay. Now open your eyes.

The good news is. This isn’t the case. And EVERYONE knows it.

For example. I made a mistake in my class yesterday. I forgot to do something that caused students to submit their assignments late.

Technically, they should have known. Standing my ground and blaming them for being late was an option.

But. I made a mistake. So. I sent a quick note letting them know I goofed up. I also told them I would promise not to make another mistake…but I didn’t want to lie to them.

One student thanked me for the note and also took responsibility for missing the deadline.

Like a thank you, I’m sorry costs nothing. But makes an enormous impact.

Thanks for hanging out with me.

When contemplating a new idea or writing a first draft, staying inside the box is usually bad advice.

It’s excellent advice, though, when delivering a final message.

Confining our writing to a limited space helps us focus our message and reduce the cosmetic.

For an essay, it might be two pages. An email might be a paragraph. On our resume, five bullets per job. A blog post…say…90 words.

Will we always stay inside the box? Probably not.

But that’s okay. 92 words on this subject are better than 500. Would you agree?