Oh hey, I'm the person mentioned in the first sentence of this post. I was wondering why my stats went up today!
I've published a blog post every weekday for over a year now (today's was #280). It's been life changing for me. It's now my go-to method for figuring out what I think about something and for crystallizing those thoughts and finding links between them.
- I figured out that I wanted a new job while writing a blog post (and I started that new job 9 months ago).
- I learned that I'm not an introvert, but rather a shy extrovert, while writing a blog post.
- That led into me realizing I have social anxiety while writing a blog post.
There are lots more examples of that. I'm often surprised to find that I don't actually believe what I thought I believed when I started writing that blog post.
Journaling never stuck for me because it felt like work, but making it public made it exciting and fulfilling enough to become a habit that I look forward to each day.
I've lately been contemplating whether writing shorter content regularly is better than writing long thoughtful content once in a while. Your work gives some motivation.
I have some questions,
1. How do you differentiating writing short content on social media vs your blog, Because If I have anything short to communicate I do so HN, Twitter, Reddit and so If I have to write about it again on my blog it feels bit disingenuous.
I saw your twitter handle and it looks like you're using just for broadcasting your content? Aren't you worried that you'd be caught in a bubble? Social media for what it's worth are good source for counter thought, Though often it's in the form of harsh criticisms.
2. SEO: How are the Search Engines treating your blogs for the small content length? I see that my long writes have been favored by the search engines. Did you see having images/videos in your content making difference?
3. Would you like to reveal your opening rates of your newsletter email? I'm curious whether shorter content results in decent open rates(While the average industry rate for newsletter is abysmal, Yet I do recommend everyone to have their own newsletter as it's the only thing which can save your blog if the Search Engine gods decides to shadow ban. Federated email for the win again!)
Hey thanks! Seems like your questions are based around building a following, and that's not something I've been concerned with, but here are some answers regardless.
1. I don't really use social media. My blog posts auto-post to Twitter and LinkedIn, and that's the extent of my social media engagement. I don't follow anyone on Twitter, for example. Sometimes people will email me if they feel strongly about a post. But for the most part, I solve for being "caught in a bubble" using a small Slack community I'm a part of, where some friends and former coworkers pick apart my blog posts and point out how stupid they are :)
2. I'm not really sure. I don't pay much attention to SEO since the traffic doesn't matter much to me. Don't get me wrong, I get a thrill when something I write makes the rounds and people seem to like it, but not enough to worry about optimizing for it.
3. I just use the built in Wordpress email subscription feature, which doesn't provide any open rates. I only have ~150 email subscribers anyway, and my blog itself only gets 100-150 views a day. In general, I've done basically no marketing for it outside of that I used to post a lot of them to HN until the domain got shadow banned.
> I used to post a lot of them to HN until the domain got shadow banned.
This is interesting, Did you come to this conclusion because your articles didn't come to front page or did you measure through analytics immediately after posting?
Because when I post an article, and then visit the new page in incognito, my article isn't there, although articles posted after it appear fine. And if I post things from other domains using that same account, they show up on the new page immediately.
It makes sense - I spammed only my blog daily for months. I'm not complaining!
I see! Anyways, I feel you should mail to dang and perhaps make a deal that you wouldn't submit daily and perhaps if someone else submits a good content from your site occasionally then it's a win-win.
> I learned that I'm not an introvert, but rather a shy extrovert
Fun, I recently had the same revelation while driving. I realized that making new social connections or talking in public was frightening, but that I had no problem anymore overcoming those fears, and that they were fears, not something that defines me as an introvert.
I don't remember the original source, but in Leslie Lamport's Specifying Systems book, he quoted someone saying "Writing is nature's way of telling you how sloppy your thinking is."
Generally, if you're writing long, rambling posts, there's a good chance that your understanding of the subject that you're writing about is sloppy (not to say you don't understand it, just that your thoughts are all over the place). If you can express what you're writing in a fairly short amount of time, you probably have a relatively good mental model of what it is you're tying to say, and this is a learnable (and useful) skill.
I've found that getting into the practice of writing "notes that I will actually read in the future" has helped a lot with this.
I strongly disagree. A person who loves to read pop sci physics will be much better at writing clear sentences about physics than a physicist, but the physicist will for sure have a better understanding of physics.
The world is very complex and almost nothing in it can accurately be summarised in a short piece of writing. Being able to making decent summaries is useful but it doesn't show mastery of the subject nor does being unable to do so show lack of mastery. Rather many masters feels that the summaries are woefully inaccurate and therefore be unable to write them while many amateurs will make very clear summaries of fields they understand nothing about.
There, I have been both correct and concise. However, I have not been complete.
You are both wrong is still true, but it is not the whole truth and the whole truth depends on the audience and also your intent.
My intent is to make a tongue in cheek point (no offense meant to the parent and gp). The audience you have little control of but you can write with a particular one in mind.
And to elaborate slightly on why your both wrong. It's because you left out the third c - completeness. This will change depending on your audience and what kind of story your are telling.
This 10000%
The guts of a matter can be found in the details and nuance and that’s really hard to boil down. The world is full of recursive rabbit holes wherever you look and we can’t function as humans without some mechanisms to be ok with skipping all the details. We convince ourselves we know something because the stories we tell ourselves about them are concise and make sense. This is no indication of veracity but sufficient for us to go on our merry way. This is an interesting dynamic as it surely is a useful heuristic for operating in a complex world but when we do dive into the details and embrace the nuance we experience a personal scale epistemic rupture and that is not easily communicated to anyone who has not experienced it.
There's some tension between correctness and clarity. Both come in degrees, and writing in the top right quadrant is rare. But holding correctness fixed, I think OP (and Feynman) are right that they go together -- ie Corr(correctness, clarity | correctness) is very high.
(In the general case, though, you may be right. Corr(correctness, clarity) is often negative. But one is a bit more important than the other... simple sentences are a dime a dozen. It's the true ones we care about; only then does clarity enter.)
Interestingly enough, the aforementioned quote was just an epigraph for a section whose penultimate point is that “mathematics is nature’s way of showing how sloppy your writing is”, followed by the ultimate point that “formal mathematics is nature’s way of showing you how sloppy your mathematics is”.
great points; we're constantly constrained by a certain cost-structure. Even if we aim to go beyond languages through the introduction of formalizations (mathematical, physics, etc), formal languages, axiomatic systems, theorem provers, etc, the same constraints are still there, just in more abstracted forms.
That begs the question, are consciousness and qualia constrainted by some forms of languages too? How can we go about describing these constraints? It is perhaps only when we are able to outline them that we'll discover greater truths about languages (e.g. as we conduct experiments to verify our models on consciousness).
I've noticed what often causes rambling is writing a sentence that I'm only 50% sure conveys the idea. I'll keep writing variations of the same core sentence in the hope that one of them will work for the reader.
The thought is clear in my head, but doesn't seem clear on paper. So I just throw a bunch of word spaghetti at the wall and hope something sticks. It's better to tighten up one really clear sentence, and accept any complex thought will probably go over the heads of some percent of the readers.
This is very insightful. I tend to do this verbally as well, when I’m trying to explain something to people and I can see they don’t get it. In that context I’m trying to learn to stop and say “does that make sense” instead of rephrasing.
I've found that "does that make sense?" only works when the other party is humble and confident enough to say "no". This is rare when you are in an "authority" position (e.g.: teacher, boss) or with certain kinds of people.
Some strategies that worked better for me are:
- To ask them to rephrase/re-explain. This is best when the other party tends to get the general idea but misses key details. You can then fill these key details into their explanation, and they will stick much better.
- To formulate follow-up questions. This is best to explore whether they got the general idea right. If they do, they will be able to infer some simple conclusions/consequences of what you just explained.
- To get them to finish the next sentence. This is best to pace yourself during the explanation itself. When they can't see what comes next, it should either be an important revelation or you are going too fast.
In spirit of the top level comment, you do not do this entirely on purpose. At best you recognize what you are doing and rationilize it, but if you emulate the reader at this moment, you have to have been conscious of the structure and the gaps in it that you are trying to fill.
On the other hand, in my own experience, if it's possible that I forgot to mention something and try to tack on the information, it's also quite likely that I lost oversight, that the information was already coded in and I just forgot and thus repeat myself.
For example, I do frequently lose drafts by accident, and I'm particularly happy when I manage to reformulate approximately the same structure, but it has also been the case that I could not even remember what I was going to say. Some other times, I just completely lose it, so to speak, and butcher everything with deranged copy-pastes rearranged in the wrong place. Now my conclusion has been for a long time that this is simply due to a poor working memory, quite analogous to the browser crashes eating my drafts. On the up-side, the aphasia is self-healing to a degree, so I find it is a good memory training when I have to formulate a text before I can get to the writing, but the extent of my abilities is severely limited at that. Inasmuch as this is analogous to the thought process itself, the writing is symptomatic. However, there are also those cases where my thought process was not verbose, so translating from idetic memory to linear text is a huge problem, for example with regards to conjunctions.
On that point you will note if you have ever written involved if-then-else structures, that repition and redundancy is impossible to avoid. Conversely though, recursive algorithms and functional data-structures that do look neat on paper do potentially have much worse run-time complexity, depending on the interpreter, for lack of a better word. More over, to stick with the programming metaphor, text may contain comments on a meta level, but we've all seen those useless comments and unhelpful documentation.
Anyhow, what I was hoping to say was that redundancy has benefits. Scientific papers do it all the time and possibly on purpose. This is in no small part due to the medium. Locality matters, so in dialog you might be told where something was left unclear, or already known, and responses might serve redundancy for you, but in writing maybe there is the expectation of certain conventions. Legal writing, verdicts and such are another fine example of elaborate structure with sometimes staggering amounts of repitition.
Finally, keeping the Title in mind, the itterative method you describe can count as "write more", and if it works like play generally does it will improve and the conclusion will actually be "but shorter" on average. Whereas, if the itterations tend to grow longer, it might be indicative of a lack of understanding indeed.
To brag a little, my favorite feedback on the newsletters I send is "Thanks! Short and sweet, loved it!" to a 1000 word email.
It's okay to write long. But it needs to feel short by being concise.
You can always tell when someone squeezes a 1000 page book into 200 pages. It feels short and insightful. But when they expand a 20 page book into 200 pages, it feels like fluff. You can tell when that happens too.
A good pattern to observe is an author's first and second best seller.
The first is often amazing. A decade of lessons and insights squeezed into a book. The fast followup is usually fluff. 2 years of add-ons expanded into a full book.
Obviously there are subjects where it would be extremely difficult (if not impossible) to express in a short format, and obviously if it requires it, then take the amount of space that you need. I think the goal should be "aim for brevity, but be clear."
One of my favorite examples of this are Ron Pressler's "TLA+ in Practice and Theory" posts. It's four extremely long blog posts, but it contains what feels like multiple textbooks' worth of information in there. By comparison to how long it could be, I think it's incredible how concise it is.
> You can always tell when someone squeezes a 1000 page book into 200 pages. It feels short and insightful.
I disagree with this argument. You can most certainly tell when someone is trying to squeeze too much into a too small of a space. The sentences are dense and the information density prohibits actually gleaning anything.
You are right there are limits where too much summarizing drops important details. Generally though I prefer writing where the author had to aggressively kill the unimportant because they ran out of space to the writing that fluffs up to fill more space than it needs.
Twitter threads that are an expert deep dive into some historical event/story, a law, a court case, a mathematical theory, etc are some of my favorite kinds of writing to read.
Each tweet in the thread is often accompanied by a link and/or screen shot of a refernce article or book so I can dive into more source material if I wish... just perfect
There's some truth to the idea. At the same time, I've met plenty of experts who are competent and productive in their work, but incapable of concise communication.
If you sieve through their rambling, you'll notice that they do have a mental model. The problem is that the model is very foreign to other minds, and they do a poor job describing it.
This might be the reason that some people are more comfortable communicating with formulas than verbal descriptions. They are eloquent when they don't have to come up with their own words.
I'll talk to my friends about "my day" every once in a while. Invariably it involves programming and the act of trying to describe what I'm doing is like off-roading: you constantly have to go long ways around things to avoid crossings the conversation can't handle, it's rough and bumpy the whole way, and some destinations simply can not be reached.
In short: I agree that rambling may have more to do with the difficulty of translation than the internal understanding.
I find that you can often use analogies or describe very vaguely to at least make some sense. It does take nuance out of the thing you’re describing but maybe that’s helpful. I’ve had multiple times that I explain in simpler terms, and I come to realize what my idea actually looks like to other people.
Some people bristle at analogies for the highly technical things they do. I think they misunderstand the purpose, or think it mocks the work they've put into understanding the subject. A good analogy creates a bridge toward interest, and interest leads to the focus needed to learn the technical stuff.
English (and presumably other human languages as well) has a lot of opinion pent up in it. Say someone came to my house and then left with a table. Depending on the details, they could have stolen it, they could have bought it, they could be a friend who's borrowing it, it could be a gift to a friend. (There's a ton more possibilities to consider if you're creative.)
Formulas are great at the level of expressing that a table was moved, which is the important piece for some.
That it misses the human element of the feelings surrounding the event is a different kind of eloquence from flowery prose to entertain.
"Generally, if you're writing long, rambling posts, there's a good chance that your understanding of the subject that you're writing about is sloppy "
I don't think that's true. Understanding something and being able to write about it are two different things. It's a good thing to learn to be concise though.
Good writing is often a very small subset of a topic. If you are an expert on a topic it can be very hard to omit a lot of detail you may find important but will just overload people.
Toastmasters taught me a lot about this. A lot of my speeches were 15 minutes long at first. Cutting them down to 5 minutes was very painful but it definitely made them way better
I think that no. Writing is separate skill. It has nothing to do how you internal thinking os nor whether it is sloppy.
It has a lot tondonwith whether you tried to learn writing, found good teachers or other resources. Learning to write won't make your thinking different, but you will be able to express things.
Granted, I'm speaking with no neuroscience or psychological background, but anecdotally I think I completely disagree.
I'm not saying that you should be the next Robert Penn Warren or James Joyce if you're writing about an endofunctor or something, but I genuinely do think that learning how to write fairly well has actually made me understand mathematics and computer science better, in addition to becoming better at explaining it. My thoughts can be all over the place, and even if I know every single "fact" about a subject, I feel like writing about it (and in particular trying to write well about it) helps me fully realize how these facts actually relate to each other, and building a bigger mental picture that I might not otherwise have.
To be clear, I don't think writing is the only way of doing this. I think, for example, getting good at data visualization or learning formal mathematics can also have similar effects in regards to most forms of engineering. I just think that getting good at writing about a subject is a one of many really useful tools for developing an understanding of a subject.
You are saying something different. Writing about something or teaching somebody something can be excellent ways of improving your own understanding of a topic.
Forcing yourself to interact with concepts in different ways improves understanding, definitely.
This doesn’t say that being able to teach or write well about a topic correlates with understanding. Understanding is an effect of writing not the other way around.
If you can't encode it with your neocortex, your neocortex doesn't understand it well enough. You might understand it, but your high level reasoning center does not. Give it a writing hand and pull it out of the tarpit.
I am sure he didn't originate the sentiment but
“Writing is thinking. To write well is to think clearly. That's why it's so hard." -- David McCullough
(Interview with NEH chairman Bruce Cole, Humanities, July/Aug. 2002, Vol. 23/No. 4)”
I do agree that writing is not _necessary_ to improve your thinking. However, I think that writing about a topic will often if not always improve your understanding of that topic as well as your ability to communicate it.
I think that's because when writing about something you have to be slower, more deliberate and more structured than thinking about something in your head which helps you identify gaps in your understanding which you can easily miss when the idea is in your head.
I think the better way overall though is just to try different methods of thinking and do what works for you. I also think more than one method is almost always better than just using one.
I find that writing and mathematics are just a poor way of trying to structure a context free domain specific language for the problem.
Writing is bad because it needs to fit in a human head and ultimately needs to be spoken by a human mouth. Maths is bad because it is still stuck as being written on blackboards or pen and paper if you're unlucky.
The few times I have build up these dsls formally have let me understand a topic both more deeply and remember it more easily. The downside is that time invested in inventing it in the first place. E.g.
(for-all x (implies
(member x integers)
(exist-unique y
(and (member y integers)
(equal? 0 (+ x y))))))
Is the way to say that all integers have additive inverses. It's ridiculously long but logically sound and quite easy to prove mechanically given that every operator in that sentence also have definitions in that vain.
There are people who are visual thinkers, and people who are more language based. For language based thinkers, writing always helps. For visual thinkers, maybe not always, although I think that combining visual and language thinking is very powerful.
I think I read the quote somewhat differently: if you think clearly, you will write well. Not that writing is necessary for thinking clearly, but thinking clearly is necessary for writing well.
Just this morning my dyslexic friend said he loves to write in bullet points, because reading is very labor-intensive for him. He wished that articles would just give you the meat in bullet points instead of spreading the actual information out over several pages of fluff.
That made me realize, keeping dyslexic people in mind when writing is one of those things that improves accessibility for everyone.
I'll bite: I think your friend has a point, I take handwritten notes purely in nested bullets if the topic isn't an active conversation.
That said, this only works up to a point, and I wonder whether most articles could be written in bullets and retain all the "value" of their prose form. Bullets don't cut it if the subject requires the author to address human emotions or impart meaning into their text. This is loosely in opposition to facts, spec sheets, and technical information that does lend itself to hierarchical structures in a way that adds value.
I recognize you might not disagree with any of this, by the way.
Many of the pieces of information we attempt to communicate have low semantic complexity and information density. They translate very nicely into an outline or a list of lists.
Other things are very difficult to convey, type systems, multiple levels of interpretation, multiple levels of VMs and runtimes, and things that are spread out over time or inter-related in complex ways.
One thing your dyslexic friend may have is a lack of context and bullet points are the fastest way to a) build context and b) provide roots to be able to hang more information off of.
Many of those articles aren't full of fluff because the authors don't know how to write concisely. They're full of fluff for other reasons, such as:
- The piece is written to make a good story, not to convey facts. I tend not to like these myself. But asking them to consist of bullet points would be like saying that Romeo and Juliet should consist of a bullet list of the plot points: it misses the point.
- It's SEO spam, or a submarine ad, or a blog post about something the author makes money on, or a post by Wolfram obstensively talking about one thing but actually mostly talking about how great Wolfram is, and the objective of the writer is best achieved if you spend a while reading it.
- It's a recipe. I don't know exactly what's going on, but judging by the effects there are some really weird incentives around online recipes.
For writing that actually aims to impart knowledge, agreed: bullet lists are great (even for non-dyslexic readers) and we should use more of them.
Not dyslexic, but I actively have to fight myself from writing in bullet points - both in personal and work contexts, and even on HN!
I found that when trying to communicate actual information, prose just gets in the way. Trees (aka. nested bullet points) map much better. Alas, most people are used to reading prose, so I'm forced to degrade the message to accommodate.
A few news sites do that, like Business Insider, and I think it's a great idea. They should also give tables of data in a standard format instead of saying 4/13ths of people agreed that is was likely or very likely, but only 20 disagreed.
Nice post, how do you like your Zettelcloud so far? I'm always interested to hear.
Looking at Mike's article:
> Because the shorter it is, the more people will read it.
What.
> Because of the Pareto principle: 80% of the value is in 20% of the length (hence “5x shorter”).
WHAT.
I guess a lot of us write so that other people will read...I guess.
But also, a lot of us write to exorcise our informational/emotional demons (to use a metaphor). It's taking care of oneself. And a lot of the time that looks like piles of words. Especially given a nice amount of intuition-stimulant like caffeine.
Writing/blogging has headed more this way for me personally, the longer I've been writing & blogging. But I also don't blog for leads or income anymore, and don't care as much about my audience dynamics. Is that where the cutoff is?
If somebody really wants the short version I find that they'll email me and probably get a disappointing reply...
> But also, a lot of us write to exorcise our informational/emotional demons (to use a metaphor). It's taking care of oneself. And a lot of the time that looks like piles of words.
I find in my old age that I have little patience for people who publicly write for themselves and not for others. If you want to masturbate, cool, I love it, do it in private. If you want to enrich others, the less you waste their time the more people you'll be able to reach.
I think your comment presumes a well-defined difference between "public" and "private" that doesn't really exist.
It's not like web pages spontaneously run into your home and throw themselves in your face. Simply publishing a blog to the web for those who happen to seek it out lets the audience themselves decide what is public what is private.
The audience still has complete control over the use of their own time.
I have a good middle ground between your positions: conversational writing. Contrasted with public journaling and lecturing. Some people have to start with one or the other to get the writing out, but editing it into a conversation with the reader makes for better reading.
It depends where you do your writing. I don't think there should be any expectation that a personal blog is anything other than "writing for yourself."
One of the requirements of achieving the top levels within the analytics team at my company is to be considered a thought leader and evangelist. This is accomplished by blogging, tweeting, LinkedIn posts, and speaking at conferences.
It’s very obvious when it comes up in my feeds that people are doing it to appeal to their managers and review committee.
We are in no way a leader in analytics, so I feel bad for those who consume this content, which is put out by people with 3-6 months of professional experience who are trying to pass it off as authoritative and universal.
Do your analysts help with causality? Top companies have some people that talk a lot and others listen to. So if we have our employees talk more and get people to listen to them, we'll be a top company. Brilliant! Could there be a confound? No way!
We pay below market where we are. If we are considered a top analytics company because our people promote themselves, then jokes on me and I need to put myself out there.
This is funny because a lot of the classics fit in that category, especially the ones that was dug after the author's death and was published despite the author's will. If what you say is true, then some lovers of classic literature are nothing but voyeuristic consumers.
I like terse writing but I’ve also learned two things about it. The first is that minimalist narrative writing linearizes nonlinear thought. The linearity is often—correctly or incorrectly—perceived as clarity but it really is just linearity. In some cases preserving nonlinearity is actually helpful (for instance, a conversation with interjections and meanderings). Second, terseness is not appreciated by all. Fillers and repetitions are sometimes necessary for politeness and to soften language. This is why you should strive to write more rather than less when what you’re about the say is liable to be misunderstood or if you want to emphasize something.
> Simple means getting rid of extra words. Don’t write, “He was very happy” when you can write “He was happy.” You think the word “very” adds something. It doesn’t. Prune your sentences.
It's a good rule of thumb to KISS (keep it short and simple), but it doesn't translate from one short and simplified example to each sentence of a longer text, because sentences aren't wholly individual. Sentences need to work together, in conjunction, because the information content requires a reasonable amount of structural complexity to support the content. Adverbs are very good at that.
I am absoluty not familiar with typed syntax theories or anything really, but I dare say the adverb in the previous sentence modifies at that. At least the parameter is bracketed nicely. Were I to say otherwise that Adverbs are good, it would not be any better now would it? Because the adverb introduces an adverbial clause that modifies the whole preceding text, that is referenced by "at that" in a manner of, err, a fix-point y-combinator!?
On the other hand I am a foreign speaker without good judgement. Consider that good (or happy) itself may be adverbial, Adverbs well support the support.
Good to know: Repition and redundancy can be quite beneficial, and sometimes it's impossible to avoid.
Anyway, kitchen philosophy says that early optimization is the source of all evil (Hoare apud Knuth).
Edit: Another problem of structural support is punctuation
I appreciate your point. I agree that it depends on context. Sometimes I add "very" because I'm trying too hard to "sell" something to my reader. But if I sit back and take a breath... I see that it's unnecessary (and probably counterproductive) to throw so much enthusiasm at them. My writing has generally calmed down (for the better) since I read the blog post that I referenced above.
Because explicitly adding implied terms help the reader's brain grip the concepts. Culling all extraneous content makes the result much harder to read, despite being exactly correct.
Make everything as simple as possible, but not simpler.
Why is the writer's role to treat some stereotyped profile of a reader within some optimization function? I have a lot of time to parse essays from an interesting and idiosyncratic writer. I have no time to parse through some 100 word daily blog post from a myopic writer.
I'm more accustomed to the view of writing as expression, though perhaps this is old fashioned. The post-modern engineering view where writing is a crude function seems both totalitarian and impoverished to me. Just look at how every comment in this chajn has explained writing: in the most imperial, imperative way. Thou shalt's and shall-not's, commandment and algorithm.
A lot of that old-fashioned writing is so long because of the per-word rates they got paid to write it and the patience of readers who didn't have much else to do with their time and money. Don't mistake consequences of circumstances for essential qualities.
That's still a skill I'm trying to get used to. For work emails, I've for some reason trained myself to add a bunch of fluff at the beginning and ending of emails.
For last ~year or so, I've been trying to get more into the habit of keeping my emails extremely utilitarian, e.g. bullets of my questions, bullets of what I need, and maybe the best way to get ahold of me.
That reminds me of "No Hello": https://www.nohello.com . Politeness is very context sensitive. If I'm writing a letter to my mom, I'll let it meander and squeeze in funny little tidbits because she likes to hear me talk. My coworkers don't necessarily like to hear me talk, and they want me to get to the point so they can get back to work. For Mom, all the fluff is polite. For my coworkers, brevity is appreciated.
I used to do the fluff thing more early in my career, thinking I was being polite and comprehensive in my communication, then over time I realized people are more likely to respond if you’re concise and clear in what your request is.
Nowadays I try to get to the point about what I want from the other person, while giving just enough context at the start to frame the request. It has definitely helped in getting a response or action.
This has been working for me. Before, I struggled to finish blog posts between working on other things. Now, for the last 100 days, I've been writing a short blog post every day.
I would say that "shorter" isn't the key. It just happens that when one writes "shorter" one tries to write in a more consice and structured manner. Not always, but typically.
Whereas whenever I see a long article, it's typically because the author decided to ramble about everything, nothing, and their dog, before they even get to anything remotely related to their point, by which point I've already lost the will to live. Not to mention I suspect they do this increase adspace, and then feel cheated I was tricked into clicking in the first space.
But a well reasoned argument need not be short to be effective. Orwell's essays do not need cliffnotes in order to be appreciated. CS Lewis does not need it.
So I would replace "short" with "intentional", "structured", "respectful" ... I think it just happens that it's easier to be unstructured and disrespectul during longer rants than it is with shorter ones.
Seemed like the blog post was more about note taking, but this ethos is why I like Twitter.
I realized that I have always enjoyed blogging. A medium that encourages terseness, has minimal friction to post, and provides a decently-sized audience lets me talk about my life in a way that makes me choose words more carefully.
The underlying problem is the clarity of one's writing. For inexperienced writers it's highly likely that the longer their writing the more rambling and incoherent it is. Therefore it's a good rule of thumb for an inexperienced writer to write shorter.
Simple ideas can be conveyed clearly and concisely.
Complex ideas need space to grow, roam, demonstrate, and explain. But more critically (and something Zettlekasten should help with significantly) they require structure. John McFee's description of his use of index cards is among the best (and most concise) explanations of this that I've found.
A classic bit of bad writing advice I see, at least for someone trying to express complex thoughts, is the idea that writing only or simply requires adding some fixed number of words per day. Write a uniform 3,000 words per day, and you'll crank out a 250,000 word epic novel in three months. It ... doesn't work like that. It's not that you can't simply keep stringing words together. But eventually that's going to show.
Simple structures are simple. A box, or hut, or short program, or simple essay, can be stream of consciousness or happenstance. A more complex structure with interdependencies, relationships, and constraints requires more thought, a framework off of which to hang the parts, and an overall organisation.
Short fragments can give you the parts you're looking for, but you'll still need to fit them together. And apply tape, string, and mortar where needed as well.
why is that bad writing advice? I would expect that consistently developing the writing every day (aka, 3000 words per day) will lead to some results - of course, you'd still have to edit, rearrange, and cut at some point in the future (e.g., after the "full" novel is completed, you'd go back and repeatedly change and cut, until it's a good novel).
Because it's virtually never given in the context of "structure and edit". The formula is more:
- Write X words/day.
- After nX days, book of nX length!!!
There is advice that that addresses that. The John McFee piece I reference is one.
A writing guide book I'd used at uni had a chapter on rewriting. It consisted of something like this:
Rewriting
Interviewer: I understood you rewrote the ending of A Farewell to Arms 16 times. What was the hard part?
Hemmingway: Getting the words right.
The author was Hemmingway. The book and number of rewrites may have differed. I'm near certain the response was as I've given it. That was the entire chapter. It is an effective communication.
There's a similar brand of reading advice that's similarly bad --- that you just have to plough through a book, keep reading, and make sure you understand each word.
Again: Thats. Not. How. It. Works.
There's context, references, allusion, cultural relevance.
Mortimer J. Adler's How to Read a Book addresses this complexity, as a contrast.
It's not that you don't need to actually write to produce something, but just as a house is not a pile of bricks, and a skyscraper isn't a pile of concrete, glass, and steel, a book isn't simply a pile of words. The advice is very incomplete.
A while back I got in trouble at work because I was perceived as being too direct in emails. IMO my mails were fine, and I varied the level of directness depending on the target audience - but others felt differently, so I started padding them out with fluff and niceties, and unfortunately it became a habit that I've found difficult to break.
And inevitably, some people have since said that my mails should come with a TL;DR! Sure enough, I feel like I used to be succinct, and now I'm just overly verbose, with redundant sentences, and sometimes seemingly rambling.
Hell, if you made it this far through this rambling comment, well done ;)
This advice is effective only if you are already famous or established. The most successful online writers who built their own brands without outside help began by writing huge, long articles that appealed to readers with high iqs and high attention spans. Short, concise articles are a dime a dozen and forgettable. You need to write looong essays to stand out and get content viral even if the articles are seldom read to thier entirety. An example is waitbutwhy.
The ultimate exaggeration of this would be a grand unified theory of everything. Maybe Stephen Wolfram will write it someday in the form of a cellular automata rule set.
Wolfram is working on another idea, based on graph rewriting. Which is perhaps like a cellular automata whose rules can create more cells instead of working on a fixed grid, but, at this point it's not "cellular" anymore.
Wolfram has an.. issue in that he focuses on qualitative results (he runs simulations, eyeball it and tell something about it), but, I'm pretty excited by this development.
> Wolfram has an.. issue in that he focuses on qualitative results (he runs simulations, eyeball it and tell something about it), but, I'm pretty excited by this development.
That's a good way of describing his weakness!
His excitement about some experiment is directly proportional to:
1) the interestingness of some unproven result,
2) that he imagines is proven based on his personal inductive overgeneralization,
3) of a perceived qualitative result,
4) from an actual quantitative experiment,
5) that he post-selected for said interestingness,
6) and that he claims to have discovered first.
He has good ideas, but it seems to always be wrapped up in huge amounts of meta hyperbole.
Imo, write less, but longer. It allows you to better articulate your thoughts and create content that is in-depth, helpful and often timeless.
If you can't connect the beginning, middle and end of a single 3000 word article, why do you think you can do it with 5x 600 word ones? Same for video and audio.
Plus, "more and shorter" brought us the cancer that is Twitter, Facebook, Imgur and TikTok.
In fact it looks like the process for writing good articles and writing good code is not so different.
Each word should be meaningful and precise. Text has to be short but without resorting to obscure abbreviations and references. Of course spelling, syntax and formatting has to be correct.
Sounds like this post is recommending you keep a journal, certainly a good practice, as the post says writing is an invaluable tool for reflection. But I don't think the advice is as useful for creating writing that is of value to others.
I've published a blog post every weekday for over a year now (today's was #280). It's been life changing for me. It's now my go-to method for figuring out what I think about something and for crystallizing those thoughts and finding links between them.
- I figured out that I wanted a new job while writing a blog post (and I started that new job 9 months ago).
- I learned that I'm not an introvert, but rather a shy extrovert, while writing a blog post.
- That led into me realizing I have social anxiety while writing a blog post.
There are lots more examples of that. I'm often surprised to find that I don't actually believe what I thought I believed when I started writing that blog post.
Journaling never stuck for me because it felt like work, but making it public made it exciting and fulfilling enough to become a habit that I look forward to each day.
Since the author mentioned Zettelkasten, I'll add this: https://critter.blog/2021/02/10/blogging-as-a-zettelkasten/