What's more, I often dribble around an idea before I take a shot at what I really want to say. My drafting strategy is simple: "Get it down quickly, get it right later." This only works if you're willing to rewrite your first draft.
To prove the point, consider this: Have you ever written something, only to lose it all when your computer crashed? Now here's a bet: When you tried to recreate the original, your second version, in spite of your annoyance at the extra effort, was better as well as shorter.
And that's the secret: Rewriting always improves word selection, cuts down on length and adds flavor. In short, it's effective.
Blaise Pascal, a 17th Century philosopher and mathematician, once apologized for writing a long letter. He said he didn’t have time to write a short one.
Most business writing is too long. E-mails and memos drone as the author struggles to find a central theme, drops in extraneous material and distracts the reader with fuzzy logic and superfluous comments. We all know people who talk this way, who start a sentence on an inspiration, detour into excursions irrelevant to the main point (which, of course, we haven’t come to yet) drag us back to an entirely different idea, and finally find their way somewhere along the way, by which time we’re looking over their shoulder for a quick escape from the conversation.
A lot of business writing follows the same model. Why the overload? Some people feel compelled to dump in everything they know for fear of overlooking something important. Others are concerned with covering their flanks (or some other part of their anatomy) with a political agenda that stretches out the writing. Both strategies dilute the focus of the piece and fatigue the reader. Shorter is not better or worse, but it is different and can be more difficult. Here’s a checklist of how to write shorter and better:
Who’s the audience? Keeping in mind whom you’re writing for will focus your objective and discipline your style and length.
What’s your objective? What do you want the piece to accomplish? This is the theme. Here are some examples:
Notice the verbs. They describe the work of the memo (inform, prod, persuade, review). The theme sentence also mentions the audience (bosses, team members, sales department, employees) and desired actions (understand progress on installation, finish assignments, adopt new guidelines, prepare for fire-safety exercise). The theme sentence may never appear in your essay, but it will guide decisions about what to include and exclude.
What are your key points? These will depend on the mission of the memo, but all key points will have two characteristics. Each must be necessary (if not, don’t include them) and sufficient to make the case (if they are insufficient, you haven’t completed the mission).
Learning to write short is important. No reader wants to waste time struggling through a poorly organized e-mail, memo or report. Writers who think before they write are more likely to close the gap between their intentions and the readers’ comprehension.
Frank Sinatra is admired by professional singers because he was a master of phrasing. In music, phrasing divides lyrics into natural segments, creates connections and a natural flow and conveys meaning through emphasis and pauses.
In writing, phrasing has a counterpart called rhythm. It helps create a unique voice, a melody and a flow of meaning. Why is it important? Understanding rhythm will improve your writing overnight. Guaranteed.
In a 1985 book, writing coach Gary Provost created this tour de force to demonstrate what happens when the writer experiments with sentences of different lengths.
This sentence has five words. Here are five more words. Five-word sentences are fine. But several together become monotonous. Listen to what is happening. The writing is getting boring. The sound of it drones. It's like a stuck record. The ear demands some variety.
Did you feel yourself getting tired? How closely does it resemble writing you see every day? Here's the next paragraph. Listen for the rhythm:
Now listen. I vary the sentence length, and I create music. Music. The writing sings. It has a pleasant rhythm, a lilt, a harmony. I use short sentences. And I use sentences of medium length.
Can you hear the difference? Can you hear a melody, a rhythm?
And sometimes, when I am certain the reader is rested, I will engage him with a sentence of considerable length, a sentence that burns with energy and builds with all the impetus of a crescendo, the roll of the drums, the crash of the cymbals –– sounds that say listen to this, it is important.
That was one sentence, far more compelling than "This sentence has five words." The passage ends with Gary's advice to writers
So write with a combination of short, medium, and long sentences.
Create a sound that pleases the reader's ear.
Don't just write words.
Write music.
Stories are our primary tools of learning and teaching, the repositories of our lore and legends. They bring order into our confusing world. Think about how many times a day you use stories to pass along data, insights, memories or common-sense advice.
Over time stories become the mile markers of our lives. High school, our first job? We all can tell tales of what we learned, and didn't. Tragedy, illness, death? Stories archive the memories and lessons.
Stories are more than a sequence of words; they are moving images we can see and feel, transforming us from passive listeners to active characters in the narrative.
What's more, because we've been telling stories all our lives, we're very good at it, even when we're a bit windy.
After decades of coaching writers and editors, I hold onto one simple truth: Good writing, especially in businesses, is nothing more than telling stories well. That's why teaching people in business how to write well is so easy. Everyone knows how to tell a good story, so it's not a big step to help them learn to write that story.
Want to improve writing in your company? If you'd like to learn more about how better writing can improve your company's performance, send me an e-mail. I'd love to talk about how I can help.
"Suddenly!" This is the conflict, the twist that provides purpose and direction. No story can remain stalled in "once upon a time;" there would be no story, and readers would soon flee. They stay because suddenly, something creates interest, suspense, confusion, anxiety, disbelief, and inevitably, questions about why? and what's next?
Eventually, the Old Man at sea hooks a fish. That's "Suddenly!"
Fortunately (or not). In some stories, Superman, moving faster than a speeding bullet, swoops in and sweeps Lois Lane from the ledge. In others, something goes wrong that unfortunately stays wrong, defies fixing and plagues the characters until the end of the story. Either way, there comes a resolution (successful or not) to the conflict of "Suddenly." In Hemingway's little tale, the Old Man catches the fish, but unfortunately, the fates have been cruelly generous. The fish is too big to bring aboard his small boat and is consumed by sharks.
Happily ever after. All written stories end, some well, some badly. In business writing (e-mails, memos, reports) the ending is especially important because it must lead to one of two results -- learning or action.
In business, using the storytelling model to guide the planning that precedes writing is the single most valuable first step toward improvement.
I CAN HELP: If you'd like to learn more about how your company can improve its writing and thereby its overall performance, send me an e-mail. I'd love to help in your quest for quality.