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?

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

• 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.

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.

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.