Take Your Reader on a Journey
Ever been trying to listen to someone only to realize there has to be context you're missing? I know that when I'm having a conversation, it's not uncommon for my listener to stop me and ask for more context because I unconsciously assumed too much from them. They first needed me to set things up before they could understand the point I was trying to get at.
Just last Sunday, I was trying not to take valuable time from my pastor's wife and skipped ahead so far that I ended up having to backtrack for her to know what topic I was addressing!
While this is something we can deal with quickly in a face-to-face exchange, it is far more serious–but more avoidable–in print.
We've Been There. Our Reader Hasn't Yet.
Just as we already know all the relevant data in an ordinary conversation, we have to know what we're intending to share before ever bothering to type it out for others to read. This puts us automatically in the risky position of assuming too much about our reader's preparation. In fact, many writing pitfalls are tied directly to this reality. For example:
Unless we go out of our way to picture the needs of our audience, we unconsciously take on the format we ourselves prefer.
Each of these points deserves its own essay, but today I'd like to go back to my opening example of expecting my listener to understand the context I haven't first established.
Develop a Road Map for Them
A little known pastor once laid out some wise words for any kind of presentation:
Tell ’em what you’re going to tell ’em; then tell ’em; then tell ’em what you told ’em.
Although I prefer to keep things as succinct as possible, there is a place for repetition when it helps prepare your reader to absorb what you then share and afterward wrap the package up with a bow so they can grab and use it. In fact, particularly because we can't tell whether our reader has grasped our concept, rephrasing what we are attempting to get across is vital to excellent teaching (this article on Qualities of a Good Teacher points this out well).
Underpromise overdeliver. ~Tom Peters
If you keep the promised summit in your mind throughout your writing, you don't need to worry about being sleazy. Although all of us have encountered writing where the author identified our problem and raised our hopes for a solution only to find things dissolved into vague and useless salesmanship, this doesn't need to be you. And providing your reader with a promised destination up front is necessary to inspire them to invest the effort needed to make it to the end.
In many ways, whether we're telling a story or presenting an idea in nonfiction, we are much like a sherpa taking someone new to the heights we have already traversed. So, what does a guide do to prepare a hiker for what's coming? They show them using maps and even the vista itself in the distance. And the opening section of our book can lay out both the summit and its promise as well as the misery of chickening out. This way, when the going gets tough (and what reset of our normal way of thinking won't?), your reader is less inclined to throw your book against the wall and walk away.
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So, to follow Peters' advice, we need to underpromise. What does this look like? First, don't promise the moon or a totally incredible life. Only God can offer that (and he guarantees suffering to go with it). But, if your book is worth writing, it does have something significant to promise. Start with the big picture and perhaps your experience having reached the summit.
Overdeliver. This is actually the easy part if you set up your promise well. There are bound to be small wins along the way that will delight your reader. As anyone who has hiked knows, the end goal is hardly the only pleasant part of the trip; nature is full of small unsung loveliness. Any quality book does the same.
Next, a guide will provide their guest with the equipment they need:
And then it's time to start walking...
State. Restate. Illustrate.
I've already mentioned how using different words is a wise thing for any good teacher to use for comprehension, but how do you do this without getting boring or seeming condescending? One of the most powerful ways is through illustrations.
?With many stories like these, he presented his message to them, fitting the stories to their experience and maturity. He was never without a story when he spoke. When he was alone with his disciples, he went over everything, sorting out the tangles, untying the knots. Mark 4:33-34 The Message
There have been many times when I can tell a speaker or author believes they have told me something profound, but I just don't get it. Or, I wonder if they mean one thing or another because the wording they use can be interpreted in various ways. Every time they give me a story, all this cloudiness clears up, I can grab hold of their idea, and I'm ready to follow along as they continue deeper into the concept they are elaborating.
For our sherpa analogy, this would be something like the guide first tackling some obstacle themselves while their guest watches. Suddenly something that seems puzzling or daunting is easy to picture, and the steps to accomplish something new and intimidating become a simpler matter.
Long before reaching the summit, your reader will have understood and tackled things they didn't think they could with your help. Talk about overdelivering!
Plus, although for myself, I prefer things highly cerebral and am comfortable in the world of pure ideas, many people are wired to care most about relationships. A story doesn't hurt those of us who want the theoretical, and it is vital to connect with a reader who needs to care before they do the work to engage their mind. And there is no escaping the emotional power a good story holds.
For most of us, the only lasting impression we retain more than a few minutes is the stories that hit us in the heart.
To convert somebody go and take them by the hand and guide them. Thomas Aquinas