Maine Creative Services

Frankly, some business people deserve it.

While most technology companies make money by developing software, building hardware or providing services, Forgent Networks Inc.. (uses) threats and lawsuits that try to cash in on ideas.

From Business Week.

Even good writers can produce bad writing. Very bad writing. Downright awful writing. That’s why there are editors.

I’m a huge fan of Freakonomics by Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner. (The writing and the ideas, at least. I’m not qualified to judge their ecomonic theories, but they’re sure fun to read.)

Being such a big fan, I was a bit stunned to read (or attempt to read) this run-on sentence, posted on their blog:

Malcolm Gladwell, author of The Tipping Point, Blink, and, over the years, a collection of startlingly good New Yorker articles, has addressed on his blog the question of why he endorsed Freakonomics (by writing a blurb before it was published) even though its explanation of the 1990’s crime drop dismissed as a cause the “broken windows” theory of law enforcement put forth by James Q. Wilson and George Kelling, put into practice in New York by Rudy Giuliani and Bill Bratton, and put into the public’s eye by Malcolm himself first in a New Yorker article and then in The Tipping Point.

Whew -102 words in one sentence! I ran out of breath before I got halfway through it. Worse, the point he was trying to make got buried somewhere in the middle, under an avalanche of excess verbiage.

OK, it’s (only) a blog, but come on! No offense to Stephen Dubner, but wouldn’t this edited version be a little cleaner, better and easier to read?

On his blog, Malcolm Gladwell, author of The Tipping Point and Blink, has explained why he endorsed Freakonomics before it was published — even though our book dismisses the “broken windows” theory of law enforcement as the explanation for the 1990’s crime drop. That theory, by James Q. Wilson and George Kelling, was put into practice in New York by Rudy Giuliani and Bill Bratton. Later it was thrust into the public’s eye by Malcolm himself, first in a New Yorker article and then in The Tipping Point.

After editing, it’s shrunk to 87 words, instead of 102. Three shorter sentences, instead of a single endless one. And hopefully, it’s easier for the poor reader to slog through and understand. (Isn’t that the goal?)

So my point here is simple: Even very good writers (and Dubner is a very good writer) write bad first drafts. Just like you and I do. That’s OK.

The solution is editing. Write first, edit later.

When you’re struggling to write that article, brochure, white paper, sales letter, Web page, or whatever, follow my three-step process.

Step 1: Jot down your thoughts, what you’re trying to say. (Don’t forget to consider who you’re talking to. More on that here.) Don’t worry about how disjointed or messy it is — it’s only a first draft.

Step 2: After you finish, go back and organize your mess. This is the beginning of the editing process. Trim, prune and re-arrange your points so they flow logically (or emotionally, if that’s what you’re going for). Then clean up your prose. Tidy up your messes, like Dubner’s run-on sentence. Try to make your writing as clear as it can be. Don’t worry about sounding smart or trying to impress others. If you’re clear, they’ll be impressed.

Step 3: Next, polish that baby till it shines! Steps 2 and 3 are what distinguishes great writing. (If Dubner had followed all three steps, I’m sure his edit would be just as good or [gasp!] better than mine.)

Lesson: Good writing is like great dancing or great acting or stunt flying. Making something look easy takes time and work. Good writing demands re-writing and editing.

No less a genius than Albert Einstein recognized the power of creativity. Sure, his left brain mojo was smoking, but the great mathemetician recognized the importance of his right brain, too. He wrote:

“When I examine myself and my methods of thought, I come to the conclusion that the gift of fantasy has meant more to me than my talent for absorbing positive knowledge.”

That’s why there’s no real how-to manual for writing winning copy (or persuasive sales letters or memos or whatever). It’s a function of both halves of your brain… and maybe, like the song says, a little bit of soul.

Our attention spans have shrunk, and most of the business documents you write should be downsized to match.

Look at the stories in newspapers like USA Today. Most run about 300-500 words – not 3,000. Likewise, television delivers fast-paced, tightly-edited commercials, programs and videos.

It’s true in the workplace, too. Welcome to Planet A.D.D. Everybody is busy, multi-tasking, struggling to keep up. Few people have the patience to plod through long, verbose documents anymore – even your employees. (Maybe especially your employees!) Don’t aggravate the situation.

A few suggestions:

When in doubt, leave it out. Don’t try to cover everything in a single document. Keep the focus narrow, laser-like. Don’t chatter.

Be ruthless in cutting anything not directly relevant to your main points. Franklin Roosevelt, one of the great orators of his day, explained his secret of giving a great speech: “Be sincere. Be brief. Be seated.” (PowerPoint presenters: please take the hint.)

Use clear, simple language. Write the way you talk (without completely slaughtering the rules of grammar). Everything can and should be presented in clear, simple language.

For example, which of the following sentences do you think is more effective?

Version 1:

Intricate, obtuse ramblings, heavily laden with impenetrable jargon, combined with elongated and often perplexing sentence structure, neither persuade nor facilitate effective data transfer.

Version 2:

Big words and long sentences are hard to understand.

The tortured syntax of the first version is more than twice as long — and ten times harder to understand! So jettison the jargon and fancy words whenever you can. Use what newscaster Paul Harvey – a terrific communicator – calls simple, “shirtsleeve English”.

Other writing tips:

• Simple, declarative sentences get your point across clearly and concisely.
• Use the active voice, not passive.
• Go easy on the adjectives and adverbs. Choose the right noun or verb instead. Think Hemingway, not Faulkner.

Remember, your goal is to communicate, to make your point – not win the Nobel Prize for Literature.

Want to stand out from the general hype and din of most advertising and marketing communications? Want to forge an honest relationship with prospects and customers?

Follow these (not so) simple rules:

1. Tell me clearly who you are, and why you are contacting me.
2. Tell me clearly what you are, or are not, going to do with the information I give you.
3. Don’t pretend that you know me personally. You don’t know me; you know some things about me.
4. Don’t assume that we have a relationship.
5. Don’t assume that I want to have a relationship with you.

#3 is a great thing to keep in mind. After all, effective marketing is honest marketing. It’s all about being authentic, not phony, when approaching prospects in hopes of establishing a dialogue. The other four are excellent guidelines that (should) grow organically from #3.

These aren’t part of my Writing Secrets series, but they could be. They’re from a Crain’s NY piece (reg. req’d) via Dig Tank.

They’re billed as a “Communication Bill of Rights for Consumers,” principles I’d say every mass marketer should keep in mind.

Your readers are only human. They glance at your sales letter (or brochure, memo, Web site – whatever) and wonder, “Hmmm… What’s this? What’s it about? Should I bother reading it? Why? What’s in it for me?”

To hook their interest, you must give them compelling reasons to continue reading. Those reasons are called benefits.

How to uncover benefits

I’ve already briefly explained the differences between benefits and features.

To discover the benefits hiding in your sales message or memo, you need to make your message about them, not you. About how they’ll… uh, “benefit” from doing whatever you’re asking them to do.

So ask yourself questions like:

• Will this information save them money? Save time? Make their work easier? If so, tell them why!
• Will it help the company grow? Reduce layoffs? Improve their job security? Tell them how!
• Will they earn more money? Feel better about themselves? Help others? Tell them!

Then massage your message to bring out those benefits. Put them under the spotlight, front and center. Don’t assume that your readers will spot those benefits or figure it out for themselves. They won’t. It’s not that they’re dumb. They’re just busy. Distracted. Remember, they’re probably reading with only partial attention. So tell them — loud and clear!

Always present benefits in a clear and compelling way that resonates with your readers.

If you’re writing to salespeople, you’ll get their attention by telling them how to make bigger commissions.

Writing to customers or prospects? Explain how you deliver more value, lower cost, or whatever makes your offer unique.

Important: Be sure you emphasize benefits that appeal to the specific audience you’re addressing.

For all of us (including me) who feel we’re wasting time whenever we’re not busy doing something, consider this:

“Daydreaming does not enjoy tremendous prestige in our culture, which tends to regard it as unproductive thought. Writers perhaps appreciate its importance better than most, since a fair amount of what they call ‘work’ consists of little more than daydreaming edited.

“Yet anyone who reads for pleasure should prize it too, for what is reading a good book but a daydream at second hand? Unlike any other form of thought, daydreaming is its own reward. For regardless of the result (if any), the very process of daydreaming is pleasurable. And, I would guess, is probably a psychological necessity.

“For isn’t it in our daydreams that we acquire some sense of what we are about? Where we try on futures and practice our voices before committing ourselves to words or deeds? Daydreaming is where we go to cultivate the self, or, more likely, selves, out of the view and earshot of other people. Without its daydreams, the self is apt to shrink down to the size and shape of the estimation of others.”