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- Hate to Write? 3 Ways to Start Enjoying It
- What to Write When an Employee Dies
- 5 Ways to Get Your Email Read, Remembered and Responded To
- Six Tips for Writing in Easy Reading Season
- 12 Ways to Plug the Email Productivity Drain
- Two Questions to Ask Before You Start Writing
- 6 Ways to Aim Your Arrow for the Heart
- 6 Ways to Become an Idea Machine
- 3 Reasons Why You Need to Improve Your Writing Skills
- Get Personal With Your Holiday Greetings: 3 Tips
Posts Tagged ‘writing frustration’
You know that old saying “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.” It happens to me all the time, though the teacher often takes the shape of seminars, blogs, books, personal setbacks and crises and other learning opportunities.
Maybe it works for you too. Maybe this post will help you get unstuck and back on track to pursuing your great work, directing less energy to routine tasks and more to fulfilling your potential. That’s the difference between good work and great work.
I was whacked in the head again with that message last weekend as I read Do More Great Work by Michael Bungay Stanier.
Michael, who was speaking at my book group this week, goes deeper than many other motivational writers. Sometimes he hits so close to home that I think he must be reading my mind. Endearing, yet a little creepy.
My friend Lee Weisser, pictured here interviewing Michael at the book group, gave me his previous book last year. Find Your Great Work helped me actually write, as opposed to talking about writing, my ebook Write like you talk—only better.
I understood that my book would address a deep and growing need. Think of how much easier work would be if you instantly grasped every email and other written word that crossed your desk. Think of how much more enjoyable life would be if writing became as much fun as talking.
Writing the book was the kind of peak experience Michael talks about. I knew I had found my great work.
My more practical business coach, Judi Hughes, calls the good work “money now” and the great work “money later.”
But the money is not rolling in, at least not enough that I can afford as much time as I’d like on great work.
I had hit a wall, what Michael refers to as getting stuck, for several reasons.
1. I had defined my great work too narrowly. In addition to writing the book, I must take my message to more peoople.
2. I was too busy with good work. As soon as I posted the book for sale on my site, lots of money-now work poured in, a welcome change in focus and influx of cash.
3. Shiny Object Syndrome, a chronic condition that compels me to chase my next dream before I’ve finished with the last one. This is why I can emphathize so easily with people who live in houses crowded with dry wall and copper pipes because they are better at starting than finishing projects. I must resist temptation.
4. Idea hoarding, which leads to analysis paralysis. I keep reading more blogs and books and listening to more seminars and talks and adding more items to the plan. I have to pick what to do next from my ridiculously long marketing plan.
Fortunately, Michael’s book gave me three simple things to do next. I must do:
1. what is easiest.
2. what will have the biggest impact.
3. what I will enjoy most.
What comes easiest for me is writing, so I’m writing this post and polishing and sending the guest posts I’ve started. Still more difficult than lying in the bath tub fantasizing about fame and fortune, like those Secret people advise.
What will have the most impact is dusting off those old media relations skills and diving into Adwords and other new, intimidating areas.
What I will enjoy the most, I know, is putting together a totally great presentation so I can evangelize. After all, this is a mission.
If you’re like me and are mysteriously drawn to what you need to learn, I hope those three steps will help you get back on track with your great work.
Let me know how you do. As Michael explained at the book group this week, pursuing your great work can be lonely and scary.
I’d love to onnect with other people who are trying to stay unstuck too.
In recent posts, I’ve been ranting about all those people who rely on tired old phrases instead of writing clearly. Then what did I do? I talked about “honoring milestones.”
Worse still, I said it to drywall plasterer Steven, while we were driving to yoga class. He was whining about how his schedule was so messed up by contractors who insist they’ll need him for this fussy, time-sensitive work on a certain date then change their mind.
In preparation for yoga class, I drew from my well of compassion and I told Steven that these contractors “should honor their milestones.” You know, do what they said they were going to do when they said they would do it.
Laughing at my language
But “honoring your milestones” just made Steven laugh. He doesn’t work with people who talk like this. I do.
Because I like making people laugh, I continued with an expression I hear regularly with clients and the International Association of Business Communicators (IABC). “How do these contractors sustain the engagement of their plasterer stakeholders?” Steven started to tear up. Fortunately, we had just stopped at a red light.
I translated: “How do you put up with this crap?”
The reply: “Money.”
My point is that it’s fine for me to talk about milestones and stakeholder engagement with people who speak the lingo. But no one else.
When Steven gets together with his plastering buddies, I’m sure they use words that I cannot comprehend.
Almost everyone has a dialect
Our yoga teacher has her own way of communicating too.
At the end of our class, she has us repeat: “Peace to all beings. Bliss to all beings.” I feel so serene, lying on my back, sending out these loving thoughts.
Once we’re out of her orbit, though, it’s silly.
As we drove home, cars pulling out or turning without warning, Steven chanted: “People to all beings. Bliss to all beings.”
When that didn’t drain all the negative thoughts, I reminded him that these preoccupied drivers “have milestones to honor and stakeholders to engage.” Ha ha ha.
Executive recruiter lingo
Last night at an IABC seminar on resume writing, I had to stop myself from laughing out loud at the example of an effective resume the speaker, Martin Buckland, displayed. It featured expressions like “customer excellence” that make me either laugh or gag, depending on my mood, because they can be so over-used and empty.
I challenged Martin. Of course, he responded, job seekers have to back up how they achieved “customer excellence” or whatever buzz words they use. More importantly, he noted, they have to speak the same language as the executive recruiters, their gatekeepers for the mega-jobs.
Words that work for your audience
As my yoga teacher would say, I need to be open to the messages the universe is sending me. I hear you, universe. Instead of quickly discarding expressions because I’m weary of them, I need to consider how they work for other people.
So take your pick: honor your milestones, don’t blister the sheet rock, peace to you, deliver customer excellence or whatever floats your boat. It’s all good to me if it works for you.
Simple language is always the safest because everyone understands. But often choosing words for specific individuals or groups, not for myself, is better.
I always tell people I like change–new projects, furniture, friends, places, whatever. But the truth is I often resist change, especially when the status quo is so comfy. Sometimes even if it’s not.
Take the example of the new computer I’m writing this on, an HP Pavillion dv7, that replaces an old Compaq running on a very tired Windows 2003.
I am thrilled with the speed on the internet.
I could even edit video, if I got the itch to follow that trend. Just yesterday I watched a Microsoft video where a guy, who introduced himself as a writer, told me how to change the wallpaper, which of course my teen daughter had done within five minutes of turning on the computer that she is already coveting.
I could have read the information in a fraction of the time. And as someone who was recently dazzled by all the special effects and flashy stars of the movie Inception I can’t quite see the point of staring at a video of a guy sitting beside a computer. Worse still, I`m worried that us writers will be forced to become talking heads.
What`s making me tear out my hair, though, is the keyboard, even though it’s a big mother by laptop standards. I could hook up my old one, but I need to learn in case I`m ever caught in a Starbucks between meetings and want to look cool.
I`m developing a nasty rash over the little dialogue boxes, menus, icons, French accents and toolbars that keep popping up for no apparent reason. Don`t get me started on the cursor that is dancing all over as I write this post.
Also messing with my serene concentration is the sound the computer makes when I do something wrong. It sounds almost like a typewriter return. No doubt this was invented by some young hot shot who has watched too many episodes of Mad Men.
It reminds me of the ping of 30 carriages randomly returning in high school typing class… Wait. I`m having a teen trauma flashback… I`m back.
I feel like I`m in that I Love Lucy episode when she`s working in the chocolate factory and the conveyor belt keeps coming faster and faster. Unlike Lucy, who shoved the chocolates in her mouth, I have no place to stash those freaking icons and chimes.
I should be enjoying the fact that I can work anywhere in the house, especially since my teen son spends so much of his time on his computer in my home office. He uses the headphones, but he`s still irritating me with an unintentional teeth click sounding. If I get upset, he will end up with post-teen traumatic disorder.
Yesterday I tried the dining room. The trouble was I was too close to the kitchen, with its fridge and chores.
This afternoon I`m on my shady patio. Much better.
I know every new system has a learning curve. And I’m so grateful I skipped Vista.
But what I want to know is why I can drive a new car off the lot but with a computer I have to watch lots of boring videos starring writers who would probably rather be writing.
I’ve always known that clear writing was behind much of what’s good in this world. We need to understand each other. Often we do that through the written word.
An article earlier this week in the Globe and Mail quotes a report about a Windsor, Ontario hospital where two cancer-free women were given mastectomies because of inaccurate tests and other problems.
On top of concerns about medical and management issues, the authors insisted that “reports need to be complete and readable. Inconsistencies, ambiguities or significant typographical errors can lead to misinterpretation by clinicians, treatment errors and miscommunication to patients.”
The next time someone fails to grasp the importance of clear writing or thinks all I do is “add spin,” I’m sending this link.
I thought about it again, this morning when I was reading comments in the IABC (International Association of Business Communicators) Linked discussion about why business communication is so awful and how we can improve it.
Natalie pointed out that “there’s no obvious ROI because poor writing doesn’t generally sink ships. It just alienates customers and prospects…produces unsuccessful proposals and reports…and creates hugely inefficient organizations. Not to mention all those unknown missed opportunities.”
If unclear hospital reports can contribute to surgical mutilation, there’s every chance bad writing could lead to much worse, not just in hospitals.
I’d love to start collecting examples of when unclear writing sinks ships. Do you have any you’d like to share?
Sometimes people make grammar mistakes when they write in a misguided attempt to sound proper. Maybe they are still afraid of their third grade teacher.
Let me set the record straight. When Mrs. Clarke told you not to say “me,” she was referring to sentences like “Jimmy and I are playing,” that had “I” in the subject.
She didn’t mean that “me” is always wrong. Sentences like “The dog is playing with me and Jimmy,” are fine.
Mrs. Clarke certainly did not want you to take this a step further by saying “myself” instead of “me.” She would whip out the red pen if she saw you write “The dog is playing with Jimmy and myself.”
Let me stress that the only time it’s okay to use the word “myself” is when you did something yourself. That’s it.
Yet, I see people use “I” or “myself” all the time, when they should say “me.”
It’s not just that they are incorrect. Sadly, they sound like they are putting on airs. That does not help us understand each other.
You will not impress Mrs. Clarke by this linguistic equivalent of raising your pinky finger while sipping from a tea cup. You will risk alienating people who care about grammar or crave the intimacy of “me.”
So, let’s pretend that I’m Mrs. Clarke, a nicer version so you won’t be afraid, and that you’re not distracted by Jimmy or thoughts of playing with the dog.
Pay attention, please. I’m going to review two very simple rules.
Use “I” “in the subject of your sentence.
Use “myself” when you do something yourself.
That’s all you have to remember.
Your homework is life.
Class dismissed.
As communicators, we take great pains to support our organization’s brand through our writing.
Instinctively, we know that muddy language, spelling mistakes and insensitivity to readers can be just as damaging to our image as unauthorized logo tweaks, smiley faces or other breaches of corporate identity standards.
Yet, we often stand by quietly when we see the account executive’s slides confuse “it’s” and “its,” the engineer’s project plan that only a rocket scientist could follow or the vice-president’s 1,000 words to tell employees that this quarter’s results are encouraging.
Everyone has the tools for writing
Inwardly we seethe. Unfortunately, we know we are powerless to control all the communication details, now that almost everyone is equipped with that mighty communication tool—a computer.
We simply don’t have the resources to comb through every email, post, presentation or proposal to ferret out the errors that can undermine our reputation.
Not everyone has the skill to use them well
Nor should we. Although most of us accept approvals as a necessarily evil of corporate communication, we know that the vast flow of informal communication would slow to a trickle if we had to approve, and fix, everything to meet our professional standards.
We roll our eyes when we come across the common mistake of confusing “you’re” and “your.” We grow impatient when we are forced to trudge through unbearably complex or prosaic prose.
Most are smart
Yet, we have to admit that most of these would-be writers are intelligent. We have to remember that they simply never really learned, or don’t remember, all those boring grammar rules from high school. They also haven’t had our training, mentoring or experience in communication.
I have no clue about calculus, the periodic table of elements and many other basics I was supposed to learn in school. So why do I expect other people to include writing skills in their talent reservoir?
In today’s knowledge economy, we are all experts in our own fields. Ours is communication. Though some people in other fields have an intuitive grasp of writing, many don’t. It’s not their fault.
Can we help more?
Instead of feeling superior, we need to be helpful, much like the voice on the help desk who answers my questions, which must often seem incredibly stupid to the trained expert.
Just as we get annoyed with the help person who rattles off a stream of technical jargon, we have to stop using technical grammar terms. We have to practice what we preach by using plain language. No more talk about subordinate clauses, parallel constructions or compound adjectives, please, unless we are talking to each other.
Another route many organizations try is writing training. But what often happens is that the people who take these courses revert back to their old ways almost immediately. It does not stick.
Meaningful training measurement
They will proudly point to the certificate on their wall, as proof they can write well. The training people will cheerily count how many people who have been trained. But no one really knows if it’s doing any good.
This leads me to think we need to take a broad-based approach to facilitating clear, concise and compelling writing. We need to focus on what’s most important to our organization, ensure the learning priorities are taught and measure the results.
This kind of internal training should not be considered a frill or soft skill taught only when corporate coffers are swollen. It should be just as basic as the training people routinely receive on new software, so they can competently perform their jobs and not drive crazy the help desk people, or the communication department.
What’s your experience?
Maybe my perspective is limited by the clients I work for. Or maybe I’m onto a challenge that many others in communication faces.
So, I’d like to hear from you communication professionals.
Do you agree? Why?
Do you disagree? Why?
Are your organizations or clients taking actions that are leading to clear, concise and compelling writing that supports your brand?
I’d love to hear.
Recently my colleague Judy Gombita questioned my use of American, instead of Canadian, spelling. She suggested I was “pandering” to the Americans.
I became concerned when Judy said she sometimes stops reading Canadians who choose American spelling. I don’t have the numbers to risk losing any readers. I love you all!
In an email exchange, we debated Canadian versus American spelling. I’m sharing the gist here, to calm any Canadians who might stop reading me and to encourage some dialogue about our mashup of flowery British and plain American spelling.
The way I see it. American spelling is a baseball cap. British spelling is the fancy hat.
Canadian spelling is not the winter toque of our stereotype. It’s more like a baseball cap with random feathers. Not a good look.
Pandering is so last century
Before I explain more about why I prefer American spelling, let me stress that I am not one to pander, especially to Americans.
Like most Canadians, I think we’re better than the American because of our much lower rates of crime and gun ownership and somewhat lower levels of obesity and personal debt. And don’t get me started about their healthcare, racism and Wall street crooks.
Despite this, I have American friends, work for American clients and enjoy American TV, movies and books. Like Judy and I, Canadians and Americans enjoy a lively debate on many issues and sometimes agree to disagree.
To be honest, I feel sorry for those proud Americans, who see their world status sinking while Canadians swim merrily along. But I digress.
Simpler American spelling
I choose American spelling because it is simpler. Why write the Canadian “centre” when “center” is easier to understand. I don’t care about Latin roots.
Then there’s the superfluous “u” we add to “neighbour.” How can that be better than the American “neighbor?”
Judy expressed concern that I might have trouble switching back and forth between different spellings. No problem.
Individual idiosyncrasies
As a freelancer, I often have to adapt to clients’ style idiosyncrasies. This is a particular challenge with capital letters, when one clients wants only proper names and the first word in a headline capitalized, while the next insists on capitalizing every concept currently loved by the CEO.
Then there’s my Canadian client expanding in the U.S. Though corporate insists on Canadian spelling, there’s no way those American employees and customers are going to voluntarily switch.
Style whimsy
Spelling and style are often more whim than Canadian Press Style Guide. For example, I have one client who insists on using the word “alumni.” No good reason, but at least she’s consistent. Unlike the Art Gallery of Ontario and other bipolar places that use both fancy hat “programme” and baseball cap and Canadian “program.”
With all this inconsistency, and my desire to communicate clearly, can you blame me for deciding on my own preferred style when I’m blogging?
As I wrote in my book, Write like you talk–only better, it’s best to pick a style you’re comfortable with and apply it consistently. Unless you’re given box seats at the Royal Ascot and make an exception to dress for the occasion.
Pro-choice spelling
I don’t understand why Canadians like Judy strongly defend our American/British spelling compromise, though I respect their right to choose.
But given the choice, when I’m not writing for clients, I prefer the simpler American spelling. So do other respected Canadian bloggers like Mitch Joel.
I’m surprised that Australians go for the fancy hats, given their reputation for crocodile hunting an surfing. A hangover from colonial times, the influence of Dame Edna or what?
Then again the Aussie blogger Darren Rowse spells mostly American, though he told Judy he encourages his writers to use their country’s choice of spelling.
So tell me, people from outside the United States and United Kingdom, which spelling hats do you wear?
Does it matter if some people prefer fancy hats while others sport baseball caps?
Awesome must be the most over-used word in North America. So let’s stop using it as our default every time we are too lazy or busy or insecure or stupid or whatever to think of a more original or relevant word.
Let’s stop using it because we’re middle-aged business people who think it makes us look cool. It doesn’t.
Let’s stop using it because we are so riveted to the game control, iPhone or other obsessions that we begrudge the brain cells required to process language.
Scary awful meanings
Despite the monotonous ubiquity, most people seem unaware of the full meaning. In addition to inspiring joyful awe, awesome can mean inspiring terror, as in “the awesome power of the sea.”
Not only that, the word awful, I discovered, is actually a synonym for awesome, providing you communicate in an olde English dialect. Gee, I’m starting to sound like Grammar Girl. Back to the anti-awesome movement I’m trying to muster.
In my quest for alternatives to awesome, I checked with Wikipedia, thesaurus.com and some other sources. I also asked people on Facebook and other social media, where I often spot the biggest offenders. Most recently, readers of Ragan.com, where this post appeared, added some zingers. Thank you, everyone.
I deleted “amazing” from my earlier list after several Ragan readers complaints about its overuse. As Jackie O wrote: ” ‘amazing’ is used by empty-headed little marketing girls who think that every occurrence in their day is worthy of it. I once asked one of these little dim bulbs if I could get her a glass of water. Her reply was “that would be amazing”. Really? Had someone been torturing this woman by denying her water? ”
The anti-awesome list
Please add your suggestions in the comments below.
astonishing
awe-inspiring
awe-struck
beautiful
beyond the call
breathtaking
brilliant
clever
cool
dazzling
epic
excellent
exceptional
exciting
fabulous
fantastic
great
groovy
heart-stopping
humbling
impressive
incredible
ingenious
magnificent
majestic
marvelous
mind-blowing
momentous
moving
out of this world
outstanding
overwhelming
phenomenal
powerful
remarkable
righteous
shazam
sick
simply divine
spectacular
staggering
striking
stunning
stupendous
superb
sweet
terrific
the bees’ knees
the bomb
wow
splendiferous
fantasmagorical
un-freakin believable
wonderful
wondrous
you rock
I don’t want to banish awesome entirely. Occasionally, it is the best choice. But I would love to hear a little more thought behind those robotic mouth movements.
Let me add that no one is required to use any of the words on this list that make them uncomfortable. These are simply options. You choose.
For those of you who want to keep it simple, try a word from this list the next time you are tempted to slip into awesome. Maybe you should give yourself a daily awesome limit, then wean yourself gradually.
For those of you with more alternatives, please add them below in the Comments section. I’ll update the post with them.
Welcome to the anti-awesome movement, oh wise ones.
Last year I asked people what makes them crazy when it came to writing.
Getting started, coming up with ideas, punctuation and other issues led to posts that answered their writing questions. The comments also inspired chapters in my new e-book Write like you talk–only better.
Now that I’ve moved my blog here, I’m asking the question again and adding some new ones.
What are your biggest writing nightmares?
What are your top tips?
Which grammar rules trip you up the most?
Which rules deserve a quick death?
How do you get people to start reading what you’ve written?
How do you write for engagement, in other words so people will get you?
How do you write catchy phrases?
Which sound-alike words, or homonyms, do you sometimes confuse?
Are you comfortable writing like you talk?
What else do you need help with?