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Why You Need to Write Your Memoir

A story.

In 1943, when my grandmother, Margarita, was 34, she was living in Bandung, Indonesia with her husband, 12-year-old daughter, and newborn son. At the time, Indonesia was a Dutch colony, but the Indonesian government agreed to let the Japanese army use their islands as a base if they would get rid of the colonizers. So the Japanese started putting all the Dutch women into internment camps and all the Dutch men into work camps.

Margarita’s husband, Wilhelmus, was also taken into one of the men’s camps where they were put to work building infrastructure for the Japanese. Do you know the movie, “The Bridge On The River Kwai“? According to family history, Wilhelmus was one of the prisoners who was forced to build that.

My grandmother, Margarita Blankevoort Binning. I wish I could have written her memoir.
One night, Japanese soldiers showed up to take my grandmother into the women’s camp. In a panic, she grabbed a set of coffee spoons, two left shoes, and a bassinet holding her 3-week-old son.

There were 108,000 Dutch women and children put into internment camps on Java, Sumatra, Borneo, and Timor. My grandmother was one of them; fortunately, her son was not.

She was taken to a way station camp, a clearinghouse, where she would be sorted and sent to a different camp in the area.

Internees were held in more than 350 camps across the Far East. In the internment camps conditions were severe. Food and clothing were generally in short supply and facilities were basic. Conditions varied according to the location of the camps. Those on mainland China fared relatively well, but conditions in the Netherlands East Indies were among the worst and casualties from disease and malnutrition were high.

— A Short History Of Civilian Internment Camps In The Far East

She had been there for two days when she stopped producing the milk her son needed, which meant he had nothing to eat. She said, “He never cried. He just opened his mouth to try to nurse, but there was nothing for him.”

So Margarita went to the camp commander and said, “You need to send my son away. There’s nothing for him to eat.”

“Where do you want me to send him?” the commander asked.

“I don’t care,” said Margarita. “He’ll die if he stays here. Please send him away and save his life. At least if he’s not here, he can survive.” She decided she would rather give up her son so he could live than to keep him with her until he died.

That night, more soldiers showed up at the house where her daughter was staying and said, “Come with us.” No explanation, no details. Just, “come with us.”

Her daughter, who was also named Margarita, had a German father, so she had not been taken into the camp with her mother. Instead, she was living with a German woman. And since Japan and Germany were allies, the Japanese soldiers left German citizens alone.

The soldiers escorted young Margarita to the camp, where she was taken to a fence where my grandmother met her. They didn’t speak, neither of them said a word. She just handed her son — my father — over the fence to her daughter and then turned and walked away, still never saying a word. She spent the night shattered and sobbing, refusing to forgive herself for what she had done, frantic about what would become of her son.

Two years later, when the camps were liberated, she was reunited with her two children and her husband, and they left Indonesia and returned to the Netherlands. She later moved to the United States, and my father was 9 years old when he moved to the U.S.

My grandmother, Margarita Blankevoort, at age 36.
My grandmother told me that story, and several others, as I was growing up.

Stories about how thieves blew sleeping powder under the door of their house and then stole all of their furniture in the night. Stories about how Indonesian militia massacred a convoy of Dutch women and children on their way to a Dutch harbor. She and her family were supposed to be in that convoy, but went a day later.

She told me stories about growing up in Chile, her life in The Netherlands, her life in Indonesia, and her time in the United States as a young mother.

She’s gone now, passed away at 101, so I can’t ask her questions or learn more of her stories. It’s something I wish I could have spent more time doing, learning stories I could pass on to my kids and grandkids. They never met her, and now they’ll never know her stories.

I can tell them the stories that I know. I could even write them down, but they would be vague generalities and broad sweeps culled from memories of half-heard tales, not rich details.

We have forgotten our great-grandparents. Our great-grandchildren will forget us.

What are your stories? What are the cool, dramatic, exciting, or emotional things that happened to you in your past? What are the life lessons you want to pass on to your kids and grandkids? Would you like your great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren to know who you are?

We have forgotten the fourth generation before us. Many of us — nearly all of us — have never met our great-grandparents. I’ll bet you don’t even know their names.

And our great-grandchildren will never know us. They won’t know our names, what we did, what lessons we taught our own kids. Any stories they hear about us will be mostly forgotten, half-heard, and lacking the rich detail of the original storyteller.

This is why writing your memoir is critical to preserving your life story and leaving a legacy for the people who come after you.

A memoir is more than just your autobiography. More than “This is my life and what happened to me.”

A memoir is your story of “these are the lessons I learned in my life.”

You can pass your memoir on to your family and friends so they know what you stood for and what you accomplished in your life. They’ll know your history, both good and bad, and they’ll remember you for generations to come.

I’m now working on a book about how to write your own memoir, so if you’re interested in hearing more about it, leave a comment or email me, and I’ll let you know when it’s finished.

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How to Give a 6-Minute Presentation at 1 Million Cups

As an entrepreneur, you’ll often be asked to give a pitch about your company and your offering. Of course, there’s the 30-second elevator pitch, the 2-minute pitch, and so on, but you’ll have to pitch your company no matter what you do.

At 1 Million Cups (I lead the Orlando chapter), you have six minutes to give a presentation, followed by 20 minutes of questions, constructive advice, and feedback, about both your company and your presentation.

I’ve seen countless entrepreneurs give what is likely their first presentation, and they blow it. They try to cram as much information into their slides as they can, they fill us up with statistics and stories, and they tell us as much as they can about the problem, its scope, and the heartbreak of whatever it is they’re fixing. They also include their own journey, their history, how they learned about the problem, and how they decided to fix it.

Eugeniu Rotari of Via Typing presenting at 1 Million Cups Orlando.
They have a couple dozen slides — I once saw a presentation that had 30 slides — and they think six minutes is plenty of time to share their vision about how they’re going to solve this problem that’s plaguing millions.

Except they barely get through the first three slides when time runs out.

They failed. We didn’t learn about the company, their work, whether the problem can actually be fixed, or whether they’re the ones capable of doing it.

Ideally, when you have a six-minute presentation, you should have a slide deck with only six slides. Your slide deck should have very little text on it, and it should have stunning visuals. (Those are less important, but still helpful.)

What it should not have:

  • More than 5 bullet points.
  • More than 5 words in each point.
  • Organizational charts.
  • A doctoral dissertation’s worth of industry statistics.

How should your 1 Million Cups presentation should go

This is a Problem-Solution format that tells people, well, what the problem is, and how you can solve it.

Basically, your ideal slide deck should contain the following information.

  1. Opening splash screen
  2. The problem you want to solve
  3. The cost/size of the problem (the TAM, SAM, and SOM)
  4. The solution to the problem
  5. How YOU provide the solution
  6. Your contact info.

Don’t forget, your presentation should start with a story. Not necessarily a story about you, but about a client who benefitted from your work. Tell this while we’re looking at your second slide.

“ABC company had a problem: they were losing $50,000 per month on employee turnover and onboarding. We helped them identify a manager who was causing the high turnover and fed him to alligators. We also created a digital training and onboarding system that turned a three-month, paper-based onboarding process into a process that beamed important company information directly into a person’s brain. The company saved $600,000 per year, and they gave me a $25 Starbucks gift card.”

Or something like that.

For slide three, talk about how bad management and lengthy turnover cost American businesses eleventy-billion dollars per year. And in your chosen industry, it’s $2 billion. And in your home state, it costs your industry $500 million.

Slide four is about your alligator farm and data-brain transference beam.

Slide five is about how you patented the data-brain transference beam and now license it out to other HR consultants.

Slide six is how people can get ahold of you if they want to reduce their own onboarding costs, or are really tired of their brother-in-law.

Rather than squeezing every piece of information into your presentation that you can, leave that information for the actual Q&A portion of the presentation.

And if there was something you didn’t get to talk about don’t worry, there will be plenty of people with questions. But if it’s critical that you talk about it, then be sure to include it in your presentation. Cut something else out so you can get the most important information in there.

Another possible layout

Unlike the previous format, this is a Problem-Assistance presentation. Basically, you’re saying “I have a problem I need help with.”

Your format will look more like this.

  1. Opening screen
  2. The work you do
  3. How long have you done it/your education or experience
  4. The problem you are facing
  5. The things you have tried —OR — what kind of help you need
  6. Contact info

The information is the same, and maybe you’ll open with a similar story. But the focus of this presentation will be on your struggles with growth and expansion or finding new clients or dealing with pesky alligator inspectors or finding a good defense attorney.

The ideas are the same: You still only have six minutes, and you’ll get 20 minutes of questions and feedback. So don’t try to cram in everything, just include the basic facts and trust that people will ask you the questions that will allow you to share that information.

Be sure to practice your talk a few times, even if it’s just while you’re driving in your car. But as long as you’re telling your stories and sharing your information, the presentation will flow naturally, and it will come easily.

Finally, make sure you prepare your slide deck to show on someone else’s technology.

Good luck!

Photo credit: Erik Deckers

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Conduct Informational Interviews to Land Your Next Job

One of my favorite podcasts is Jeff Pearlman’s Two Writers Slinging Yang, a podcast about writing and journalism. Jeff also writes a Substack called The Yang Slinger.

Sorry I didn’t upgrade to the paid version, Jeff.

In it, he usually dives deep into a particular question or issue he’s wrestling with, getting input from his friends and former colleagues in the sportswriting biz.

This week, he wasn’t wrestling with an issue so much as he was looking for help from those same colleagues. (Read it here.) He asked:

This week’s substack topic is a doozie: a friend of mine, just 23 (former student of mine, actually) just got laid off. He called asking me for advice … and I’m honestly running out of answers. So I’m collecting advice for this week’s substack. What would YOU tell him?

Although Jeff didn’t ask for my advice, I’m going to give it, mostly because I like to hear myself talk. It’s the same advice I have given to aspiring entrepreneurs, college students, and job seekers for the last 14 years. I’ve written about it elsewhere in the past, but I think it’s time I plant this flag on my own blog.

Here goes:

The power of Informational Interviews

If you’re looking for a job, stop looking on the job boards. Frankly, the job boards suck. They are literally bad at what they do.

That’s because roughly 85% of jobs come through networking, although 50% of all job applications come through the job boards.

That means 15% of all jobs are filled through job boards. If you batted .150 in baseball, you would have a very short career.

The rest of the jobs — the EIGHTY-FIVE PERCENT — come from professional connections.

  • You meet someone at a conference.
  • A friend tells you about an opening at their company.
  • Your old boss or colleague calls you from their new company.
  • A friend of a friend of a friend introduces you to someone they know.
  • You had coffee or lunch with someone in the same profession.

It’s these last two that we’re going to focus on. You’re going to interview your way to your next job, and you’re going to do it by having coffee with someone and then with someone else, and then they’ll introduce you to someone else, and on and on.

I learned this from a friend who used this tactic in the 1980s after he moved to Indianapolis from New York. Within three months of informational interviews, he had three job offers and requests for 40 hours/week of freelance work.*

* This is notable because most freelancers usually only hope to work 20 hours a week; the other 20 hours are spent chasing up more work. So set your prices according to a 1,000 hour work year. (Your salary needs ÷ 1,000 = your hourly rate.)

And I’ve used it many times myself, as well as told other people about it. This advice has helped get people job interviews, internships, and brand-new jobs that they never heard about because they never showed up on any job boards.

That’s because 70% of all jobs are never published publicly.

Your job is not to apply for jobs.

Fourteen years ago, I spoke to a job seekers’ support group about informational interviews. Many of them had been searching for a job for many months without luck.

After my talk, one guy stood up and proudly declared, “My current job is to find my next job. I spend 8 hours a day applying on the job boards.” He even seemed a little smug about it.

I did that in 2005 and it was soul killing. After one week of spending four hours a day on the job boards, I was so damn depressed I could barely get out of bed. But the guy was undeterred. He wasn’t going to let the world get him down, he was going to apply and apply and apply.

A year later, I was asked to come back and give the same talk.

You’ll never guess who was still attending the weekly meetings.

When you lose your job, our temptation is to hit the job boards, like our parents, teachers, and guidance counselors all told us to do.

But it’s all bullshit. I mean, sure you can do the job application jitterbug, but the odds are stacked against you.

Our world has changed so much. We communicate differently, we connect differently, we consume media differently, we learn differently. So why the hell would we look jobs the way our parents and grandparents did?

If you’re going to take that path, you might as well apprentice yourself out to a blacksmith or cobbler.

Here’s how to do informational interviews

An old coffee shop in Central Florida that is no longer in existence.

(First, let me apologize for taking so long to get here. I did not mean to pull that same recipe website bullshit, writing a 4,000-word murder mystery before sharing their Memaw’s tomato sandwich recipe. I’m very sorry!)

So here’s how you do informational interviews.

Step 1: Reach out to someone in your industry, field, or company you want to work for.

Ask them to meet you for coffee or lunch because you want to learn more about their career and how they got there. A Zoom call or phone call will also work.

There is a very good chance these people will want to talk to you because they want to talk about themselves.

If you were to call them and ask about a possible job, I can almost guarantee they will not talk to you.

If you asked if you could do some freelance work for them, they probably won’t want to talk to you.

But if you say, “Can you talk about yourself for an hour and I’ll totally listen to everything you say?” they will scramble to meet you because everyone loves to talk about themselves.

Step 2: Ask them questions.

What did they major in? How did they get their first job? What do they like about it? What do they dislike?

Let them do all the talking. You can intersperse little comments like, “Oh, I hate that, too,” or “I did that once.” But this is not your time to do a lot of talking; this is not your interview, it’s theirs.

If they ask you questions, you can answer. But make sure they do most of the talking.

There’s an old adage that the more someone else talks, the smarter you look. So you want to come away from this looking like a genius.

Step 3: Mute your phone!

And put it in your pocket.

Don’t turn it off because you may need to share something with your interviewee. But don’t keep it out where it can be a distraction. And never, ever take a call.

Step 4: Take careful notes.

Get a notebook and a good pen and take as many notes as you can. Make this your interview notebook and fill it up with people’s great advice, ideas, and stories.

Even if you never look at your notebook again, this makes you look like you’re listening and that this is so important, you don’t want to forget it.

Now, you not only look like a genius, you look like a good listener.

Step 5: When it’s all over, ask these two critical questions.

This is the really important part, so pay attention!

When you’re nearly finished, ask them two questions:

  1. Do you know anyone else I should talk to?
  2. Great, can you introduce me to them?

Because you’ve been such a good listener and you seem really smart, they’re going to be happy to introduce you to other people. They’ll say, “Yes, you should talk to my friend, Danielle.”

And then you’re going to ask them to do an email introduction between you and Danielle. (Click here to see how to do a proper email introduction between two people.)

Do NOT let them say, “Just tell Danielle I told you to contact her.”

Because Danielle is not necessarily convinced that your new friend really did tell you to contact her. You could be lying. This could be a trick. Maybe you’re just dropping the friend’s name in the hopes that you can meet with her.

You want to avoid even the slightest appearance of that, which is why you need their introduction.

Step 6: You follow-up first.

Don’t wait for Danielle (or whomever) to contact you first. Once you get that email introduction, follow up with Danielle. Ask them the same questions — “I wanted to learn more about you and your career. Can we meet for coffee?” — and go through the same process: listening, note taking, two critical questions.

Your meeting with Danielle will lead to a meeting with Rosario, which will lead to one with Curt, which will lead to one with Javier, and so on and so on.

Maybe you’ll get lucky and one of them will make two introductions, and now you’ve doubled your productivity.

Along the way, something will happen. Someone will know someone with a job opening. Or they’ll be looking for someone who does what you do. Or they’ll put your résumé on the hiring manager’s desk.

Whatever it is, you will have networked your way into a new job without filling out a single application. You’ll have avoided the job boards, skipped the HR gantlet, or put up with the months of rejections that comes with slogging it out on the job boards and classified ads like our parents and grandparents.

GIVE informational interviews, too

One day, many years from now, you’re going to be sitting at your desk and your email is going to ping (or your intra-cranial implant is going to buzz — I don’t know what the future’s going to bring), some 23-year-old kid is going to ask you to sit down with them over a cup of coffee or Soylent Green or whatever the hell we’re drinking in 2038.

Take that interview. Sit down with that kid. Answer their questions and talk about yourself because this is your moment to shine and share all the cool shit you’ve been doing. They’re going to take notes and they’re not going to talk much, which means they must be really smart.

And when they ask you, you’re going to introduce them to two or three of your colleagues, because you kick ass. And you’re going to help this kid get started on their own career path.

Because someone did it for you and that’s how you ended up having your own awesome career.

Photo credit: Jeff Pearlman’s Substack
Photo credit: Erik Deckers (Hey, that’s me!)

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Five Things to Do Before You Present On Someone Else’s Tech

A couple months ago, a friend was going to give a presentation at our local 1 Million Cups chapter here in Orlando. He sent me a PowerPoint version of a slide deck he had spent several hours on. He had built it in Apple Keynote, exported it to PowerPoint, and I uploaded it to Google Slides.

We run all of our slide decks off my Google Drive account on the computer in the meeting room, rather than trying to mess with thumb drives or using another person’s laptop. We only have one hour for our meeting and we can’t waste a few minutes swapping out laptops or trying to get the screen mirroring to function.

“We may have a few formatting issues,” I warned.

“It should be fine,” he said.

“It won’t be fine,” I said.

Luckily, we had time to run through the deck and we saw that there were, in fact, several formatting problems with the text. He spent the next few minutes fixing them as he cursed Apple, Google, and for good measure, Windows about the “utter shit show” that is converting files.

“What’s even causing this?” my friend ranted. “Why can’t I just upload a Keynote deck to Google Drive and have it work?”

“Because Google and Apple don’t play well together. They both refuse to try to accommodate the other and so you can’t open Apple products in Google Drive,” I said.

Many people have this problem, especially when they present at events and use the host’s tech instead of their own. I used to get rather annoyed when an organizer wouldn’t let me use my laptop. After all, I made the presentation on my software (Keynote), the fonts were in my system, and the videos were embedded in the deck. As long as I could use my laptop, everything was great.

Once I became an organizer, I got annoyed at the prima donnas who insisted on using their own gear.

(And yes, I recognize the conflict between those two ideas. I’m fine with it.)

But I realized why the organizers want you to use their tech. It’s either something provided by the conference hotel or center, and they know it will work. Or they just don’t have time to switch between everyone’s computers and then fart around with getting the monitors to work because you don’t have the right kind of adapter or the power cord is too short.

If you do a lot of public speaking, you will inevitably be asked to present on someone else’s technology and equipment. Don’t be a jerk about it or believe your presentation is so precious that it can only be done on your computer or the entire conference will fail and the hotel will fall into the ocean.

Of course, this isn’t ideal, but we can’t always get what we want, and is one of those times.

So here are five things to do when you present on someone else’s tech.

1. Keep the design simple

My friend, Dave Delaney, is an amazing speaker. (And he’s not the guy I mentioned above.)
When I design my slides, I like to use one large photo as the backdrop and then a short headline in bold. If necessary, I’ll use bullet points with 1 – 3 words per bullet item.

(This has nothing to do with presenting on someone else’s tech, I just think it’s important to mention because I still see so many people who don’t do this. PRACTICE GOOD DESIGN, PEOPLE!)

That also means avoid all transitions and fancy graphics. They may not work properly if your deck is converted to another format, like Keynote to Powerpoint or vice versa, let alone Google Drive. (See #4.) Plus, transitions are the Comic Sans of presentations.

Remember, your slide deck is there as visual support, it’s NOT the purpose of your presentation. If we can read your slide deck without you, you have an article, not a presentation. But if you can give your presentation without your slide deck, then you’re a real speaker.

2. Use basic fonts.

Remember, Apple and Google do not play well together, so the fonts you use probably do not exist on Google Drive. That system doesn’t have all the fonts you do, whether you use Apple or Windows. That means Google will often change your fonts to its closest equivalents, but that’s what screws up your formatting. (Here’s a list of Google’s available fonts.)

You can paste your text into a slide, but that doesn’t mean it will look the same when you open it somewhere else.

Pick basic fonts like Gil Sans or *shudder* Arial. Don’t use cool fonts that you downloaded from a font site. They probably won’t upload.

3. Upload your slide deck to Google Drive.

There are three ways you can get your slide deck to your event organizer.

  1. You can email it to them.
  2. You can share it via Dropbox.
  3. You can upload it to Google Drive.*

*You can also use Slideshare, but I don’t want to type “Google Drive or Slideshare” over and over.

Just be aware that if you do the first two options, the organizer may upload your deck to their own Google Drive.

But — and this is critical — Google Drive will completely screw up your formatting. And you’ll learn this right in the middle of your presentation when your beautifully-designed slides look like hot garbage.

Instead of sending your slide deck to the organizer, upload it to your own Google Drive and then share the link via email. This lets you double-check all formatting and avoid any embarrassing formatting issues. You can be assured that everything looks great on the day of your presentation.

Plus, if all else fails, you can open the web browser on their computer, log into your Google account (it’s your Gmail password), and drive your presentation from there.

It’s a good idea to upload it even if you’re using your own tech just so you have a backup in case your computer breaks or gets stolen.

Note: If you use Apple Keynote, you will have to export your slide deck to a PowerPoint format before you upload it.

4. Do NOT put your deck on a flash drive

You’re not Johnny Mnemonic, so stop handing people a thumb drive with your presentation on it. It’s getting harder to use flash drives these days anyway, because a lot of newer computers don’t have a USB drive. Or they use a web-based presentation platform, not PowerPoint or Keynote. A lot of computers don’t have USB-A slots on their computers anymore, at least in the Apple world. My 2019 MacBook Pro only has two USB-C slots and nowhere to put in a flash drive.

A flash drive should be a backup method only, not your primary means of delivery. But if you insist on this, make sure you have an adapter that lets you plug your Flash drive into a USB-C slot. Remember, you are the person responsible for making sure your presentation will work on the host’s computer, not the host. So if you insist on using a flash drive, make sure that you have the necessary adapters for any situation.

5. If you insist on using your own tech, make sure you have these things

  • A USB clicker (affiliate link). These come with a little USB dongle that plugs into a computer and will work on Windows and Apple.
  • USB-rechargeable batteries (affiliate link). These are AAA and they fit the USB clicker listed above, but if your clicker takes AA, then get AA rechargeables. These things can plug into a USB slot on the computer and charge in an hour. You don’t want to get to a presentation and find your clicker isn’t working. Just carry a couple spares and the charging cable in your bag.
  • A USB-to-HDMI-and-VGA adapter (affiliate link). I carry my HDMI/VGA adapter because there are still a few places rocking the old VGA cables and won’t upgrade any time soon. You don’t want to get caught out.
  • If you have a newer Apple computer, get a 7-in-1 USB-C hub adapter (affiliate link). The one I listed here has ports for HDMI, USB-A, USB-C, micro SD, and standard SD cards.
  • A 10-foot power strip with USB slots (affiliate link). I have been in plenty of situations where the facility does not have an adequate power source, or they only have one single-plug extension cord and I have two devices. A power strip will alleviate that problem. And the 10-foot cord will cover most lengths, especially if you already have your computer power cord with you.

You don’t need to carry these things all the time, but you do want to put them in your bag or briefcase on the day you speak so you don’t get caught in a bind when you show up and find that your presentation room is not equipped with any technology made before 2010.

And remember to write your name on all these items so you can show that they’re yours and not the organizer’s.

When you present on someone else’s tech, it will take some additional preparation, but it’s a great way to ensure that you’re fully prepared. Just design the deck with basic fonts and photos, upload it to Google Drive, double-check the formatting, and then share the link with the organizer. Carry your own tech so you can handle any hiccups that happen on the day of your talk.

Photo credit: Dave Delaney (DaveDelaney.me, Used with permission)

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Stop Leaning on These Five Copywriting Crutches

Even the best copywriters use clichés and rely on copywriting crutches. It’s inevitable, but it’s preventable. We’re trying to spit out a lot of copy on tight deadlines, and while our fingers may work faster than our brains, our brains will pop out any old stuff just to keep our fingers moving.

And that’s how clichés appear in our work. We don’t mean to do it, it just sort of happens.

But if you keep a few of the worst offenders in mind as you’re working, you may catch them just as they spill out onto your keyboard. And if you missed them the first time around, you’ll catch them on the edits.

Here are the five copywriting crutches and clichés we need to avoid.

1. Let’s face it

There’s nothing wrong with this, per se.

It fits where it’s used, no one is using it incorrectly, and it conveys a feeling of resigned acceptance of the problem at hand.

But it’s just so overused that it has been rendered completely useless. It’s like the Spin Doctors’ “Two Princes,” which got played over and over and over and over and over to the point that I hate it so much, I will drive my car off a bridge to escape it.

“Let’s face it” is the “Two Princes” of writing. It should be struck from your lexicon, burned to ashes, which you then jump up and down on, before putting them in a lead-lined box and dropping it into the Mariana Trench.

(I really hate this phrase almost as much as I hate “Two Princes.”)

Just pick something else. Anything else. In point of fact. In truth. You gotta admit. What are we even doing here?

In truth, it makes you sound like you’re not trying very hard. Pick something better.

Needs

Probably the most overused word in all copywriting.

You gotta admit — see what I did there? — it’s a versatile word. It’s both a verb and a noun. We have needs. We need things.

Except saying “needs” is like saying “stuff” or things.”

Every customer needs something or wants something. Or they desire it. Wish for it. Demand it. Prefer it. Delight in it. Obsesses over it. Yearns. Craves. Hungers.

There are so many different options available, but the best we can come up with is “needs?”

What you need is a thesaurus. (Let me recommend OneLook.com.)

Being “passionate about” something

How many LinkedIn profiles have you seen where someone is “passionate about” web analytics? Or email marketing? Or tax law? Or artificial intelligence? I saw a job posting that required applicants to “be passionate about short-form copy.”

Seriously? You’re passionate about that? Your passionate about gazing deeply into the limpid pools of Google Analytics reports? I should yearn for the delicate touch of a 280-character tweet?

This thing smolders within your heart like burning coals? You can’t stop thinking about email marketing and it consumes your every waking moment? Whenever the wind blows, you hear its name in the trees — Tax law! Tax law! — and feel its caress on your face, like the touch of a lover?

Either you’re the most boring person on Earth, or you’re overinflating your dedication to this particular job function.

You should be passionate about your family or your partner. You should be passionate about a sports team or an art form. You should be passionate about something so much that you dress up in funny clothes and scream like a maniac whenever you get to do it. That’s passion. Do you do that when you get to send out an email newsletter?

(If you do, please share a video of that.)

If you feel that way about email marketing, or whatever, more power to you. It takes all types to make the world go ’round. But I tend to just roll my eyes and assume you’re exaggerating.

Making history/is historic

Things do not make history. Events are not historic, especially if that event hasn’t happened yet.

Whose history? Who decided it was historic? There were two Black quarterbacks in the Super Bowl this year. So many sportswriters relied on the clichéd crutch of calling it historic, but it wasn’t.

Was it notable? Absolutely. Was it important? You bet. Was it long overdue and a wrong that should have been righted years ago, ever since Doug Williams became the first Black QB and the first Black Super Bowl MVP in 1988? You’d better believe it.

But was it a thing that historians are going to be writing books about and discussing at length in 100 years? No. That’s the historic stuff.

What’s the difference between HISTORIC and HISTORICAL?

A quick note on the difference between these two terms. Historic refers to things that are important that everyone should be aware of: the signing of the Declaration of Independence, the Civil War, the first Black president.

Historical is anything that’s from a prior period in time. A book published in 1776, a letter from a Union soldier, the first football game between Harvard and Yale.

While we’re on the subject, please GOD stop saying “an historic.” It’s not AN historic, it’s A historic. Sure, I know you heard the news people say it, but they’re bandwagon-jumping idiots who try to sound sophisticated and miss the mark. There’s absolutely no reason ever that you should say “an historic,” unless it’s to mock someone else who does it.

We use “an” before any word that starts with a vowel sound, and “a” before any word that starts with a consonant sound.

  • An umbrella, an MBA, an hour.
  • A unicorn, a university, a European.

Historic — unless you’re from Boston or are a 19th-century chimney sweep — is pronounced with the H sound very much intact.

Using adverbs and adjectives for EVERYTHING

There’s a very good chance you’ve sung the praises of a colleague, collaborator, or frenemy and you do so in the most glowing terms possible.

“I had an amazing, mind-blowing lunch at this delightfully cozy little bistro with my wonderful, delightful, mind-bogglingly creative friend, Churlington Beescoat.”

We gush, extol, glorify, and heap exaltations on our dear friend, Churlington, and we can’t say enough nice things about him because he is simply the Best Person Ever.

At least until next week, when we have lunch with our dear friend, Powderkeg Malone.

There’s a reason we don’t use a lot of adverbs and adjectives in writing. They’re a tool that new writers overuse, but they keep us from writing our best work. (Adverbs do, not new writers.)

If you have to describe a verb, then you’re using the wrong verb. Too many young writers try to wring out as much emotion as possible to tell you that their goldfish’s death made them cry really, really, really terribly loudly.

That’s not very sad at all. Maybe if you added another “really?”

What’s wrong with adjectives though?

They’re less problematic than adverbs, but there are times when you need to describe a noun. However, that’s not always necessary.

“A nutritious lunch” tells us what kind of lunch it is, but it’s not very interesting. “A lunch that would make my nutritionist nod in quiet approval” paints a more vivid picture. We get the sense that the lunch is sensible, solid, and even a little boring.

Instead of using adverbs and adjectives, come up with better verbs and nouns. You’re writers, for God’s sake! Expand your vocabulary. Come up with new words or use old words in new ways. (Just no business jargon, please.)

Recently, I saw Garrison Keillor talk about “purpling one’s thumb with a hammer,” and I thought that was the very best way to describe whacking your thumb with a hammer, because the word not only contains the action, but the result. You didn’t just hit your thumb, you hit it so hard that it bruised and bled underneath the nail. But those previous 12 words are contained within the single word “purpling.”

As content marketers, we need to use powerful language like that. We want to write powerful, persuasive copy that causes people to reach for their credit cards and purchase orders. And they don’t do that for really amazing, terrific, stupendous products.

As a writer, no matter what you write, you need to focus on the mechanics of your writing. Your word choice, your sentence structure, and your tone are just as important as your story, your narrative, and your characters. Maybe more so.

So avoid these copywriting crutches. Find a new way to say things and to be more interesting.

Let’s face it, your writing is going to flop otherwise.

Photo credit: Stocksnap (Pixabay, Creative Commons 0)

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How to Find Your Client’s Voice as a Writer

If you’re a ghostwriter or freelance writer, it can be difficult to find your client’s voice. It’s not as important if you’re only doing a small one-off project like an email, but it’s critical if you’re ghostwriting a book, a speech, or a series of blog articles for a corporation.

Here are a few ways you can find your client’s voice, and one secret to finding it when the client doesn’t even know what their voice should be.

1. Listen to how they talk

You should not — absolutely never — just start writing without talking to your client. You’ll want to do a discovery call at least, to find out what the client wants and to identify your scope of work.

More importantly, you want to talk with the person whose name is going to go on the work. That means if you’re writing for a CEO, make sure you talk with the CEO. Not their staff, not their go-betweens. Your client may have a certain turn of phrase or favorite word they use, and you want to know what they are; the go-betweens will not.

Several years ago, I helped the CEO of a Fortune 500 insurance company ghostwrite his book on CEOs and social media. We met in his (gorgeous!) office to talk about the project, and he said a few words and phrases that I came to learn were his way of talking. He used, not bigger words per se, but unusual words — like “per se.”

I wrote those in my handy-dandy Moleskine notebook to refer to later. They actually never came up again, but it helped me understand that he chose his words carefully and had a particular speech pattern, so I needed to remember to follow it when I turned his words into text. We also spoke by phone every two weeks, so I was exposed to his speaking style more and more.

Also, he and his social media director noticed my note-taking and commented on it. They said they felt good about their choice because I was clearly conscientious. I had never thought of it that way, but who am I to turn down accidental recognition?

So, always take note of the little speech patterns your client has. Whether they know it or not, they have them and will feel good that you recognized it.

Plus, even if you never refer to it again, it makes you look like you know what you’re doing.

2. Read your client’s past work

This is what they think they sound like. It may be conversational, or it may be instructional. It may be light and airy or it may be serious and business-like. It may have a lot of second-person references — “what would you do?” — or it may be cold and impersonal — “Apply the lotion liberally to one’s epidermis and return it to the basket.”

Make sure you read a lot of your client’s work, because their regular ghostwriters may have changed over time. Or they use a lot of different writers all at once, which may allow for a little more flexibility. Still, all those writers may have a similar voice as well, so follow the crowd.

3. Ask them what they think their voice is

Make sure you can match up what they think their voice is and what you’ve read and heard. Maybe they say they want to be friendly and approachable, but their past work reads like it was written by a child-hating robot.

Or they want to have a tone and voice that conveys seriousness and stability, but they can’t stop sounding conversational.

Ultimately, what they tell you what they want is what you should strive for, but you should also feel confident enough to point out the inconsistency. Just say, “I understand you want X, but your past work sounds more like Y. Are you changing from your past voice?”

If they don’t agree with your assessment and they think their written work sounds like their desired voice, and that you don’t know what you’re talking about, do two things:

1) Try to match their past work rather than what they tell you. They think the past work sounds like their desired voice, so they’re looking for that. Let them tell you otherwise.
2) Make sure you get paid upfront.

4. The secret to finding a client’s voice when they don’t know what it is

What do you do when your client doesn’t have a voice, or when they’re not really good?

Years ago, I was an aspiring speechwriter and was asked to write a speech for a candidate for the U.S. Congress in my home district.

The candidate was running unopposed in our party’s primary because no one wanted to run against the opposition incumbent as he always won. Still, she needed the backing of all our party’s county chairmen, 12 in all, and she was in danger of not getting it.

She had given a speech at a district dinner that was a 45-minute vomit of anything she could think of; she was supposed to speak for 10 minutes on healthcare.

I got a call from my own county chair telling me that this woman needed major help, and could I help her with her speech? If she blew it again, the party wasn’t going to back her at all. They would rather run nobody that year than endorse her. So my speech was going to make or break her candidacy.

No pressure.

I called the candidate and we chatted on the phone for nearly an hour. She was really nice and fun to talk to, and she told me about her views. I took notes, but she rambled and I wasn’t sure what she actually wanted to cover or how she was supposed to say it. She didn’t have a voice in particular unless it was just one long, rambling sentence.

But I knew about this trick, and I thought I’d better use it.

I knew her speech had to be under 10 minutes, which equaled 1,000 words. That’s because the average person speaks between 100 – 150 words per minute. And she spoke a little fast, but I wanted to make sure she didn’t go over. So, 100 words x 10 minutes = 1,000 words.

I hit the three major points she wanted to hit, and stuck only to the important information without all the little tangents and tidbits she had shared during our call.

And, most importantly — and this is the big secret! — I wrote in short, punchy sentences, like a newspaper writer. Why? Because we all like to think we speak that way, at least when giving speeches. We all like to think we give speeches that are easy to hear, easy to read, and use lofty, soaring language about big ideas.

So I wrote short, punchy sentences about the big ideas.

When the dinner came, she gave the speech, and everyone loved her. Best speech of the night, very inspiring, blah blah blah, and the county chairmen all agreed unanimously to support her candidacy for the Congressional race.

(Narrator: She got 33% of the vote, just like every other candidate had ever done in that district.)

After she got home, she called me and gushed about the speech. “It was great. Everyone loved it, and you captured my voice perfectly!”

Well, no, I captured my voice perfectly. That was already my writing style, so I just wrote to my strength. It just happened to be the style that most people prefer to speak in.

I didn’t tell her this, of course, because that would be dumb.

Instead, I wrote several more speeches for her throughout her campaign, all using the same short, punchy style. And she rocked it. People loved her speeches and she was able to make her points without confusion or droning on.

All because I wrote in “her” voice.

Final thoughts

When writing for a client, you absolutely need to do everything you can to find their voice. Record them talking, have conversations with them, take notes in a notebook, and read their past works.

But if all else fails, write short, punchy sentences in the same way a newspaper writer would do it. If you don’t know what that sounds like, read Ernest Hemingway’s Big, Two-Hearted River.

It’s a short story, about 7,00 words, written at a 3.4-grade reading level, and has 17 adverbs in it. It’s my favorite Hemingway story and one that I model my own writing style after.

Write in that manner because it’s what people think they sound like when they give speeches. And it’s the way they think they write.

If you can capture your client’s voice, they’ll be happy, and they’ll keep you coming back for more.

And if they piss you off, just make them sound like a drunk pirate instead.

Photo credit: Caleb Oquendo (Pexels, Creative Commons 0)