The most important part of writing isn't the writing

I question everything I write.

Until I don’t.

That doesn’t mean I believe my drafts evolve into perfection.

Truth is I haven’t come close to writing the perfect piece, ever.

But what I’ve managed to learn over a few decades of writing is this:

The most important part of writing

is questioning and thinking about

what you just wrote.

This is the writer’s contemplative work that demands unmerciful scrutiny:

• Is this really what you mean?

• Will it resonate with the audience?

• Did you use a helpful example or accurate analogy?

• Did you allow jargon to slip in?

• Can you say this differently but better, quicker, more human and conversational?

• Is it reflective of the brand or individual you’re writing for?

• Would you want to read this?

• Does it educate or challenge what you think?

• Does it make you want to take action?

Here’s an accepted truth:

Anyone can write and putting words on paper or a screen is easy.

But not everyone is a writer – and that’s okay and also acceptable. Not everyone is an engineer either. Which is why it’s helpful for non-writers to understand how writers do what they do.  

Writing (the process) doesn’t look like

writing (the act) at all.

Writing is rooted in everything that is simmering before the first words are hammered out, after the first draft –  and second, third or seventh – or however many are required until you land on a draft worthy of being final.

Writing includes thinking, mulling, stewing, questioning, arguing with yourself, walking away and letting first words calcify, returning to test if they are strong or brittle, tearing elements down and rebuilding.

It looks more like sculpting than writing. That’s because it is art.

Writing also involves letting someone with zero subject matter expertise read your draft to find out if they can follow it, to see if it makes sense even if they don’t know the technical details. Because simplicity outperforms the bravado of expert posturing. Which is to say…

Good writing is hard.

It is never automatic, and never a given.

Writing something good, once, is in no way a guarantee that your next thing will be any good. It requires doing the hard work from scratch, all over again with no shortcuts, in hopes that it too might become good.

The myth of great ideas.

Great ideas (epiphanies!) rarely “just happen” in a first draft or any draft. It’s like the fleeing fireworks display in the sky – it’s looks pretty, briefly, followed by hazy residue once the twinkle fades as you await what comes next. Instead, great ideas are the tortoises in these races to the finish line, always plodding a bit slower than we’d like but worth it in the end.

In fact, epiphanies aren’t unexpected, out-of-the-blue thoughts or ideas at all. They emerge when you prune and edit everything that’s been taking up space – in your brain and on the page. In this sense, the epiphany becomes sudden, recognizable clarity as bloated language and jargon get removed.

The great idea emerges after carefully working and examining the entire landscape and finding it has been hiding in plain sight all along.

Good writing is never over.

However, at some point it needs to be ready or complete. Complete means as far as you can take it, as well as you possibly can, with what you know right now. Because a few weeks or months from now you’ll look at what you wrote and find yet another way, possibly a better way to say it.

For people who don’t do a lot of writing, this takes entirely too long.

For writers, there’s always a desire for more time to allow the best ideas and language to emerge and mature. And that’s because writers know what’s at stake, writers know what the right words can unlock.

These days a lot of written content feels disposable, unhelpful, noisy [add your descriptor here].

It feels like fast food: quick, convenient, seemingly necessary, but also lacking. And just like fast food, disposable content feels even less fulfilling after its consumed.

It doesn’t have to be this way.

Even the shortest post can have a powerful impact.

The deception is in how easy it appears (but now you know the truth).

Slow down.

Think it through (ask more Qs and then think some more).

And then write some really good sh*t.   

** For the record, I wrote and edited this piece across multiple days and sittings, challenging myself and what I believe about the process. Nothing comes easy.

*** The photo image is the cover of Steven Pressfield’s book of the same title and is a must read for writers.

Your bespoke, game-changing copy is the problem

photo credit: Greg Rosenke

You lost me at… bespoke.

It's one of many words that, when pressed, organizations don't really mean or embrace.

Words that would rarely, if ever, come up during conversation, let alone a contract negotiation.

Yet there it is... part of the web copy, the pitch deck, and the promo ad.

Not everyone cares about your word choice.
(but some do)

Not everyone sees you borrowing from the competition's vernacular.
(relax, most people don't believe them either)

So keep this in mind:

• There are few one-of-a-kind hand soaps or social services providers.

• There are even fewer game-changing law practices or pumpkin patches.

• And fewer still... bespoke agencies or pest exterminators.
  
  

Then ask:

• What do we do well enough for the ideal customer or client to say, "We could benefit from that"? (we're not even aiming for uniqueness or greatness yet, just relatability to their needs)

If they have to look up bespoke or question your unverifiable claim, they’re likely seeking out the competition next to see if they speak plainly to their pain point.

Make it EASY for people to choose you.

And when it doubt, always simplify.

Why every leader should be writing

photo credit: Israel Andrade

If you are the boss, the CEO, the president, the business owner, the executive director, the person the buck stops with, then you might want to heed this advice: you should be writing.

Arguably it could be the most important facet of your leadership. Here’s a bulleted list of why:

• Your people want to hear from you – not just at the quarterly meeting or when things are getting tense. They want insights based on your years of experience, miles on the odometer, your wins and losses, your relatable stories of what they are challenged with right now.

• Your people want to know what’s working and what’s not, what the plan is and what direction the company is headed. Don’t assume they know this or will remember it. Remind them regularly.

• If your company’s mission, vision, and values aren’t well known, or if they don’t sound like you, or reflect how you lead or where your organization is going, it’s your responsibility to consciously connect the dots or redraw the lines so people get it. This is foundational to your writing and messaging. 

• It is a way to crystalize your thinking before you start communicating. Bullet points have their purpose, at the right times and venues, but they are not a substitute for writing with intention or communicating specifics.  

• You will  have a record of your messaging and what was shared; a written reminder of what has – and hasn’t – been said.

• You will be sharing stories (making you more relatable) instead of regurgitating talking points (making you come across as unauthentic). 

• You provide important perspective to data, trends, successes, and where things fell short.

• It gets what is in your head onto paper or screen where you can refine your thinking. Because your first draft isn’t your final draft.

• You begin articulating what you believe about business, leadership and success based on real-life trial and error, not someone else’s that is captured in a book.

• By communicating, first in writing, and then finding additional ways to bring those stories to life, you are consciously setting and reinforcing the culture. 

• Because every business challenge is first a communication challenge, and open communication cures many ills.

• Because bad news never ages well, and the grapevine distorts reality.   

• You will cast a shadow of what good leadership looks like by sharing deeper insights, plans and priorities.

• You will be building the archive; leaving a legacy and a blueprint. And you will be more attuned to the passing of time and the inevitable passing of the baton when the time comes (and it always comes).

WHAT THIS FORM OF WRITING IS… AND ISN’T.

This isn’t thought leadership or convincing existing customers and prospects that you have the pulse or unique perspectives on business. That is an entirely different endeavor, and something you might consider as well.

This is internal communication, the most urgent of business communication.

It is a function that might not exist or is relegated to a communications team without your regular input.

This is culture building by the chief culture officer – you.

This is the priority you might never have considered your priority.

This should be happening already. If not, you can start now.

If you don’t know how to start, let’s talk, and then start writing.

If you are already writing, make sure you have a person you trust to challenge, question, push you and, perhaps most importantly, call your bluff when necessary.

Bounce ideas off them. Determine what sticks and what doesn’t. Decide what’s worth committing to type and then sharing with others in various formats.

Because writing isn’t as easy as it sounds, and can come across in ways you never intended without a good edit.  

Even if you don’t see yourself as the writing kind, there are ways to get your ideas to paper/screen. But you must convey them out. Look at them. Chew on them. Own them.

Your people will thank you. The next generation of the business will thank you.

And you will have zero regrets articulating what mattered most during your time leading the people who helped propel the business forward. It is what success looks like when your team believes in, and acts upon, what you’ve chosen to share.

ON WRITING: The long, lonesome, and difficult road to meaningful connection

Writing is a “what-have-you-produced-for-me-lately” endeavor.

Last week’s words are gone, buried in the feed-heap and trash bin of email boxes.

And then come the daunting words like clockwork — “What’s next? Where’s your copy?”

For writers, churning out “content” in emails, blogs, and social posts, might not feel like meaningful writing, as too often it is a disposable byproduct of the craft. So little of what gets written has staying power beyond the moment.

It’s enough to make some writers feel as though their words don’t matter.

I know that feeling. I also know it’s a lie.

In all my years of writing for clients, only a tiny portion of my work still exists in its original form. Writing for business and brands has always been about the new and next idea. It’s about pivoting and evolving and the requisite attraction needed to validate those ideas. Writers have to accept and embrace this reality, especially in an age where anyone — or trained AI — can string together words and sentences.

Everyone has the capability to write.

Writers don’t have unique access to a special skill.

But that doesn’t make writing easy.

Committed writers also understand that:

• Good writing is hard.

• Good writing (and editing) takes time.

• Good writing often goes unnoticed or underappreciated.

• Good writing might even take years to reach its audience as intended.

• Good writing has potential to change/improve/elevate anything and everything.

The book(s) that almost never happened

This week, a small book of tiny stories I wrote finally came to life. My publisher accepted the manuscript in 2018 – nearly 6 years ago. A series of unexpected events prevented it from arriving sooner.

But that’s nothing compared to some of the pieces inside the front and back cover. In fact, the first piece was published 19 years ago – in 2004 through a university-based literary journal.

But it wasn’t merely content that was created. These pieces were not about marketing an idea and expecting unrealistic book sales.

It was about plumbing the depths of the human condition. Something that wasn’t disposable (something that, perhaps drives book sales over time).

That is what every writer wants to create — for themselves and for you.

My encouragement / challenge for you

If you work with, manage, or hire writers on your team — I encourage you to validate them and their effort to craft carefully chosen words. Writing can be a lonely, isolating craft. Without constructive criticism and positive feedback, writers can wither (this is equally true for all creatives, any employee).

If you know a writer — ask to read their words (it will mean the world to them, even if you don’t love what they wrote).

If you are a writer — keep writing. As writers, we stick with it because we are compelled to write. With that compulsion, that drive to get better, to resonate, and to say something in a way that only you can say it is both a gift and privilege. Give it all the time it needs, which also includes the slow arrival of validation.

Luckily for me, someone took notice of my words.

I mean, really noticed.

Not just metrics, or page visits, or eyeballs, or likes.

They read it, absorbed it — and it resonated.

(hint: that’s the winning formula for brands, too).

The Fruit of Encouragement

My publisher said — "I like this. This is good. It deserves a wider audience." (Thank you, Gloria Mindock). She validated the work decades after I began leaning into this writing life.

Unbeknownst to her, those words of acceptance and validation energized more creative work to come.

Between acceptance and the arrival of This Side of Utopia this week, I’ve had two other small books published, drafted another, and have multiple concepts in the works.

That validation was like tapping a gushing well of creativity.

(BONUS: she even chose one of my paintings for the cover art)

There’s a point where many writers are ready to give up — whether they’re working for brands or striving to get their words published by other means. And if their work is the kind of writing that simply pays the bills, their creative spark can fade to the point of simply churning more bland content to swim upstream toward a sea of sameness.

Without the encouragement to persevere, to play the long game, and to dig deeper…

too many great things go unwritten.

Chances are you have an exceptionally good writer in your orbit who is burning out, feeling hopeless, and wondering if their words matter.

Tell them that they do — and stick around to see what happens next (even if it takes a while).

***

And, if short, quirky stories* about navigating this life are your jam, you can find this little book online via Bookshop.org, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon. You can link to my writing/painting website to access each title.

*Yes, technically these are poems... written in accessible and understandable language in attempt to dispel what the modern reader thinks of poetry (e.g., poetry for people who don’t think they like poetry). In the age of shrinking attention spans, they just might be what's needed. Timing is everything.

Photo credit: Bethany Legg via unsplash

Before I Forget — Things I've Learned from My Mother's Dementia

Pay attention to the list (photo credit: Glenn Carstens-Peters)

I am not particularly good at making lists. I know what needs to get done and when, and only when the world feels like too much to handle do I feel compelled to write things down in checklist form. It’s a bit strange considering I write just about everything else down that comes to mind as a writer and creative.

But I’m going to strongly advocate for this list.

It’s one of the few that I have penned. I’m sure there are similar lists out there, but this one is mine. It’s well-worn and lived in.

And I’m sharing it because I think you can benefit from it – even if a loved one isn’t ill or disappearing in front of your eyes. It’s a different kind of list, one that doesn’t bring the kind of joy and satisfaction from checking the box. Each time I am reminded to turn to it, I think of the Avett Brothers Murder in the City where brothers Scott and Seth sing these final lines:  

If I get murdered in the city
Go read the letter in my desk
Don't bother with all my belongings
But pay attention to the list

Make sure my sister knows I loved her
Make sure my mother knows the same
Always remember there was nothing worth sharing
Like the love that let us share our name
Always remember there was nothing worth sharing
Like the love that let us share our name

And with that, pay attention to the list.

1.      Life moves slowly, often predictably; then it changes all at once. Recognize this as the rule rather than the exception. You’re not being singled out.

2.      Being right doesn’t matter. Showing love does. 

3.      Show up.

4.      After you’ve taken it personally, don’t take it personally.

5.      Listen. There’s a story to decode underneath the misidentified people and places. There’s a memory trying to rise to the surface.

6.      Ask for stories. Write them down. History is fading before your eyes. 

7.      Grief is not an event. It is a series of high and low tides that never cease.

8.      Costume jewelry can save a lot of heartache.

9.      Watch the film Alive Inside and see how playing music awakens the brain, reaches that far off part that remains uncorrupted. Tap the well that appears to be empty.

10.  Hide-n-seek is not only a kid’s game. Approach what’s missing with a kid-like curiosity and desire to find.

11.  Give compliments. Tell her she looks beautiful, how she reminds you of a special time.  

12.  Enjoy the silence. Sometimes presence is enough.

13.  Take walks. Slow is still active.

14.  Pull photographs before the funeral home asks. They are memory triggers for conversation, not just a five-minute carousel of a life lived.    

15.  She’s your parent, but his spouse. Same person, different interpretations. Remember and respect it as they would want you to do.

16.  Let her eat what she wants to eat. We’re no longer staving off anything.   

17.  Ask often: what really matters at this moment?

18.  Denial: don’t let it be the disease you suffer from.

19.  Making up for lost time, lost ground, lost arguments is unachievable. Making the most of the moment is achievable.

20.  Become an advocate for their health and well-being. This is as important with family members as it is with physicians.

21.  You are of little good to others if you are not taking care of yourself.

22.  This isn’t forever.

23. Find community. Grieve together. Lift each other up. Keep walking forward.

24.  This is a list for dementia, for Alzheimer’s. But don’t let that stop you from using the list.