Observed

OK. So, maybe some things we write HAVE TO BE turgid. Like because somebody will end up getting sued if the thing is written in English. So be it. But let's be honest. While it might be legally prudent, nobody (except the lawyers) will ever read it. Ever.

Here’s something to remember the next time you write a business letter, or update your Web site or put out anything you intend for your reader to read.

If something looks difficult, people assume that it is difficult and they won’t read it,” she said.  “Headings help.  White space helps.  Breaking things into lists helps.

“She” is Susan Kleimann, Ph.D., CEO of the Kleimann Communication Group.  According to her Web site, her business “…integrates the design, development , and rigorous testing of consumer documents to ensure that consumers can use them to make informed decisions.”  She was quoted in a recent NPR story, “Why Are Credit Card Agreements So Long?”

Anyway, I couldn’t say it any better myself.  So, I’ll have Dr. Kleimann say it again:

“If something looks difficult, people assume that it is difficult and they won’t read it,” she said.  “Headings help.  White space helps.  Breaking things into lists helps.”

Amen to that.

John Kralik's book -- 365 Thank Yous: The Year a Simple Act of Daily Gratitude Changed My Life -- extols the virtues of the tangible...and how it benefits all of our relations, including the one with ourselves.

On NPR this morning, there came a story about John Kralik, a product of the Midwest (born in Cleveland and educated in Ann Arbor, Mich.) and now a superior court judge in Los Angeles.  It was about the fruits of writing — and receiving — hand-written notes.

As he puts it…

“In this day and age, a handwritten note is something that people really feel is special.”

Kralik says he is often moved by how many people have saved his notes: “It’s up on their wall,” he says. “It’s like part of you that’s there.”

So, check out what else Judge Kralik has to say and let me know if this speaks to you.  Give me your mailing address, and I’ll write you a note.

I almost always cringe when I find a typo or grammar error…particularly in my own work.  I’ll  beat up on myself for a few minutes and then usually rationalize my way into a low-grade, to-err-is-human sense of irritated acceptance.

Part of my cringe is for my clients.  They hate typos, too.  That’s because I believe they know or fear that their customers hate (or find delight) in typos and will judge my typo-ed client as somehow deficient.

In other words, mine is a trickle-down, perfectionist cringe. (more…)