Archive for the 'Good writing' Category

Taking Nigella Lawson to bed – learning story telling from how-to writers

via Kaptain Kobold

Despite being 99.95% against scripted presentations (and I’m lying about the .05% to seem fair-minded) I do think we can learn a lot from writers and the practice of writing.

I love how-to books, always have. But bare instruction holds no interest for me. I want to hear the voice of the person talking, and their stories.

I took Nigella Lawson to bed the other night – her cookery books are made to be pored over, not just cooked from. My copy of Domestic Goddess is covered in post-its and scone dough.

Stephanie Pearl-McPhee’s writing about knitting is so good I don’t want to waste it.

Then there’s Randy Halberstadt on jazz piano.

Marilyn Paul on becoming organised.

Brad Warner
on hardcore punk zen.

These are just some that are by my bed right now.

All of them write like they’re in conversation. With me.

All of them tell stories. Continue reading ‘Taking Nigella Lawson to bed – learning story telling from how-to writers’

Using numbers in business communication

This is a beautifully crafted article on how to deal with numbers intelligently written by Daphne Gray-Grant.

Couldn’t have put it better myself.

http://www.publicationcoach.com/free-articles/numbers.php

I’ve just signed up for Daphne’s free article series on corporate writing. She seems to be fantastic at clear and concise.

Pitching your communication at the right level – Edward Hall and High Context/Low Context

We work a lot with smart people who really know their stuff. This means that we often have to talk with them about how they pitch their material at the right level of detail. Having a multi-faceted understanding of your topic means that you see all the subtlety, and can sometimes find it hard to filter that for a group. It can often feel like you’re dumbing down to an ridiculous extent.

Edward Hall was an anthropologist who wrote some key texts about cross-cultural communication. I came across him when I was researching a programme which we called Global Communication Strategies. His work is accessible and fascinating.

One concept of his from cross-cultural communication that I am shamelessly appropriating for us here is the idea of High Context and Low Context. This is particularly relevant if you work in a technical or highly specialised field, but at times speak or write for people who come from outside of that field.

High Context is communication that relies very little, if at all, on the explicit words that are being used. Think of a couple who have been together for 15 years, and how much can be communicated with a glance. Almost all of the information is ‘stored’ in the context of the communication – High Context.

Low Context would be typing code for computers. Everything must be explicit for a computer – there is no room for even a punctuation mark out of place when typing code. None of the information is reliant on knowledge outside of what is expicitly stated, thus Low Context.

High Context delegation would be ‘Make the business more profitable this year.’ Low Context delegation would involve precise process instructions.

Hall’s idea was that this was a useful axis from which to examine national cultures. Particularly writing for a reasonably untravelled (at the time) American audience, he helped to unravel cultures that seemed so alien: Japanese, Mexican… Hall lived for a quite a time in Japan, and discovered that he was misconstruing much of what was being communicated because he was listening to the words, rather than working from an understanding about the way the words were being said, and what wasn’t being said. Coming from a ‘let’s put all the cards on the table’ American culture he wasn’t trained to respond to communication where much of the relevant information was being conveyed by the context in which it was delivered.

Just to be clear, we are talking about a continuum, not an on/off digital distinction. Speaking of relatively High Context, or relatively Low Context makes more sense.

Pitching your communication at the right level means finding where your audience is at with your topic. Using the metaphor of High/Low Context can be helpful if we take it out of the concept of national culture and apply it to any kind of in-group.

Watch your conversation the next time you speak to someone you know who is also a specialist in your field. How much assumed knowledge is there between you? What would be gobbledygook to your grandmother? If a friend from a different field came into the conversation, what would you have to apologise for and explain? This is how we communicate in a High Context situation. Much of the information is unstated and implied. It can also be very efficient in terms of time.

Now think about actually explaining your job to your grandmother…

My granny asked me the other day if it might be good for her to get a computer. Thinking about how much detail we went into to show her how to use her cable tv remote (‘First press this button – that will switch it on. Then…’) I know how Low Context the communication would have to be to teach her how to use the internet. Low Context communication is detailed and explicit and slow. My granny is a smart lady, it’s just that she doesn’t have a schema, a framework, to place instructions about website addresses, or even mouse clicks.

Pitching your communication too Low Context will patronise someone who is familiar with your topic. Pitching it too High Context for people who have little detailed understanding will leave them lost.

Particularly get sensitive to the specialist language that is used in your field. These are essential shortcuts in a High Context situation, but jargon in a Low Context one.

Like so much of your thinking about communication, if you pitch it just right, people won’t even be aware of the planning you’ve done. You’ll hit the right balance between what can be assumed and what must be made explicit, and your information will be that much more likely to slide right in.

Learning storytelling from movies

At the weekend, I went to see Speed Racer. Now, it’s about as fun and as serious as a Ben and Jerry’s Strawberry Cheesecake milkshake, but I learned a lot.

I’m a big believer in feeding your pattern-maker (the adaptive unconscious – the part of the mind that looks for the patterns in the data, made famous by Malcolm Gladwell in his book Blink). The bigger database that this part of the mind has, the better instincts (sorry, Malcolm) you have in a situation. So by pointing your attention towards the things you want more of, you can then produce those results more easily.

In terms of communication skills, this requires you to have what I call a meta-awareness, a dual awareness of both the content of what you’re experiencing and its structure.

Having this meta-awareness means you can then have a better instinct about how to tell your stories.

This is part of the reason for the presentation analysis posts on this blog (Joshua Klein’s Wisdom of Crows being the first one). My aim is for you presenters to gain the tools to be able to feed your pattern-maker with how someone does great presentations (see my article ‘How to Radically Improve your Presentation Skills Without Saying a Word’ for more details).

This meta-awareness can be applied in any context you’re interested in. I’m coming up to publish my second book, so I spent an illuminating 30 minutes with Natasha Golding the other day in Borders, going through the business section, the self-help section, the fiction section, and looking at which books caught our eye, which we picked up, which we put back. We learned a lot about titles, cover design, author photos (an author photo that doesn’t match the book can make me put it back on the shelf), text size, first line…

It’s about developing a fascination with what works, how you’re being affected unconsciously, and asking yourself how you can wake up and be conscious of those effects.

Storytelling is vital to good writing (fiction and non-fiction) as well as in presentations. Keeping an awareness of how the story is structured can be very instructive.

Now I know that some of you like to keep the magic of movies. I get that. In fact, if a movie is really magical, I just drop all the way in.

However, most movies aren’t pure gold. This way you can enjoy an okay movie, and improve your communication skills at the same time.

And personally, I find that the magic is even greater when I see the craftsmanship of the product. In short, I’m one of the nerds who enjoyed Peter Jackson’s ‘making of’ documentaries for Lord of the RIngs almost as much as the movies themselves.

You can use movies like Speed Racer, which was hardly complex, as a learning device to track how a story is set up, what draws you in, how you get to know the characters, what makes you sit up, what makes you wary, what makes you sigh.

It can be particularly interesting to notice when your sense of story is satisfied, and when it is obstructed. Notice the disappointment and frustration of a mangled ending, or the satisfaction of all the loose ends being tied together.

If you really want to get into this, THE most accessible book on movie story structure is ‘Save the Cat’ by Blake Snyder which gives you everything you need to know about why really good popular movies are so satisfying.
It’s also amazing to map how very different movies are actually the same movie when you move above the content and look at the sequence of scenes.

Quick starts for next time you’re at the movies:

First 60 seconds – What’s this movie like? What’s the tone/genre/setting? How was that done?

First 10 minutes – Who’s been introduced? What are they like? Who is this movie about? What’s the main plotline of the movie? How was that set up?

Last 5 minutes – How are the loose ends being tied up (feel your craving for that)? How does the end scene mirror the first scene? What has changed for the main character? How is this being signalled?

Notice particularly this last one. When you’re telling a story from your life, make it clear how you changed from the start to the end. That is classic storytelling straight from Aristotle’s Poetics.

Making people care about what you’re saying

I was watching Raiders of the Lost Ark last night for the first time in 20 years (1981, people!… I know, I know…), and it struck me that you can kill as many baddies as you want, as we don’t see them as people, but as members of a category.

There’s a danger here that writers and speakers need to be aware of.

We don’t easily care about categories (unless it’s ‘our’ category). We do care about the individuals.

That’s why filmmakers and storytellers (and politicians… Hillary and Obama, anyone?) have to make sure that the ‘bad’ individuals in their story are thoroughly evil, otherwise we care when they have bad things done to them.

Which leaves who? Indie and Marion, maybe John Rhys Davies.

In fact, one of the major flaws I see in movies and novels is not making us care about the characters. We’ll get 45 minutes into a movie and Stuart and I will turn to each other and go, ‘Who are we meant to care about?’

So, when you’re writing and speaking, it becomes obvious that if you want people to care about you, you gotta be an individual. If you’re speaking as a representative of a company, or as a role (accountant, salesperson, mother, coach), we don’t care if you get killed off in the first 5 minutes.

Don’t be a disposable extra. Be your weird strange self, and we might follow you through to the end.



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