"You don't have to be a brilliant writer; just don't be boring." Don Roff
Do most blogs suck? Asking for a friend.
There are millions of blogs out there that no one reads, or the writer gives up after a few months because it takes time to hone your writing skills, and it's difficult to attract a following.
What do you think makes a blog worth reading?
What draws you back to a blog again and again?
What deters you from finishing a blog?
These are important questions because when I ask you to read this post, you have to put down your iPhone, open your eyes, and think. Hopefully, not scan but actually read the content, interpret the message, and engage with it.
You are what they call a captive audience, and this is my one opportunity to deliver an important message that I hope will resonate with you.
It's a lot to ask anyone, and not just once. I ask you to visit my blog every week, and if I want to keep my readers interested and informed, maybe compel them to tell others about Living in the Gap, then the content has to knock your socks off or force you to see your washing machine in a new light.
According to Brian Miller, it is my moral obligation to present my message in a way that is appealing, captivating, and, quite frankly, irresistible.
Who is this guy?
He's The Connection Magician (link to website). He's a magician (obviously), but he also hosts a weekly blog, did a fabulous TEDx Talk (linked on his website), has a bunch of resources, published a few books, and offers a workshop on "how to avoid boring your audience to tears and wasting the gift of their attention."
I know, I should sign up immediately.
The workshop is designed to develop you as a speaker, but I can't help thinking it would also benefit writers because the same format applies. Or does it? He says it is important to ask the right question.
And here it is.
What exactly do my readers need to know as opposed to what I want you to know? There's a difference. If I am only focused on what I want to say, chances are the message won't resonate, and I will have lost an opportunity to engage with you or humor you, as the case may be.
I think this is why it takes so much time to write a blog post. I usually sit down and write about something that happened in my life. I don't have any idea where it is going or if there is a purpose. Then I stop and ask the story to help me figure out what is important, what needs saying, and what's just weeds.
But how does that help you?
I delete most of the words I write. Honestly, because often I'm just regurgitating some event or ranting about my latest irritation, which only prevents me from aligning with your needs. It's a murky process, and as we know, if you walk into an unfamiliar room with your eyes shut, you're going to stumble.
For example, here I am, I have absolutely no idea what I'm trying to say. But what I am noticing is I'm intrigued by Brian Miller's ideas, and I'm thinking you might be too, so I'm compelled to share. Overshare might be a better verb.
Maybe secretly, I want to be a public speaker with one solidly constructed speech that I can present again and again without all the fuss of reinventing the wheel every damn week as if a teacher with one killer lesson plan.
When I taught high school, I knew my audience, I raised four teenagers of my own, and I had the inside scoop on their worries, concerns, focus, and interests. I shamelessly used that information to construct my lessons.
I was teaching them about God. Did I mention they were fourteen to eighteen, most of whom were only interested in socializing, grades, college, and of course, who was going to take them to prom? Trust me. God was the last thing on their minds.
I thought I could work with that, but I had to add a lot of humor to keep their attention, and God knows, I didn't have a bunny I could pull out of my hat. My gig didn't grab everyone, but I captured some, and then I would saunter in with the important information, just like my blog, and if they weren't all waiting for the bell to ring at the end of the block, I considered that a win.
Brian Miller says the premise of your content needs to come from the audience, which he claims is concerned about one of four things: a belief, fear, want, or problem.
Let's explore.
What I discovered in all those years of teaching is we have a lot of things in common when it comes to our beliefs. We want to know why we're here, what is our ultimate purpose, and where we are going when it's all said and done. We question if we're holding onto a faith that no longer serves us or if our faith prevents us from living a life that is authentic and true to our personal values and morals. It's complicated.
What about our fears? Is there a way to confront our phobias or suspicions with kindness and compassion in order to shine a little light into this abyss of darkness? Is there a way to mobilize all that anxious energy into action instead of cowering from that which can help us grow? Fear, hesitation, and acquising to the easier path is our downfall according to Mel Robins. She says, push the fear aside and just do it. You might fail. Do it anyway.
We all want something. Wants can be about desires, things, goals, or even the New Year's resolutions we are trying to fulfill. But they can also be about obsessions, addictions, and prurient interests that need to be addressed, healed, and overcome. We all want to know how to deal with want.
A problem is more about the obstacles we encounter that not only obstruct our vision but derail us on occasion. I think learning how to overcome obstacles without destroying something else is a vital life skill, and I'm always curious how others accomplish this.
If I want my message to be about my audience, then according to Brian, I have to understand the challenges, interests, and needs of the community I am trying to serve. He says in this way, the message is designed to both inform and transform the audience.
And that is when people will lean into your essay or your talk. They will seek you out and want more. They will tell other people about you because they now consider you an asset and one that should be shared.
Brian warns that it is easy to lose yourself in the story and forget the substance. Writers are usually storytellers, and we have a tendency to get stuck in the telling of the clever vignette and forget about the audience or the message we're trying to convey.
A good story is only there to drive the message home, not drop the guy who needs his taxes done at the maternity shop. If there is nothing that nourishes their growth or figures out their taxes, they will move on to the next blog.
It's extremely boring to read about how someone solved a problem we don't have or shifted their perspective on an issue that is of no interest.
How I'm decorating the Paris suite is meaningless to someone with housing insecurity, no grandkids, or who doesn't have a spare room. Sorry about that. I was being narcissistic.
We've all been in a room where one person monopolizes the entire conversation. They demand the floor, and they will not give it up even if half the people are yawning or playing on their iPhones.
I do this on occasion (monopolize conversations), and my sister is always the one who gently points it out. She's the real thing because when she talks, I listen. Her insights are well honed, she knows me like the back of her hand, and her delivery is ever so gentle and timely.
Why doesn't she have a blog?
I use humor and storytelling to attract you like a bee to honey, but as tempting as it is, it is too easy to substitute the core message for a humorous moment or finish with a boring illustration that no one is going to bring back to the hive.
So how do you write without monopolizing the situation with your own issues and interests?
It reminds me of Mary Oliver, the poet, who would write about the things she loves and what she discovers on her walks in nature, but she never leaves you in the middle of a field wondering how the hell to get home. She carries you home with human insights that resonate so strongly with others that she became one of the world's most beloved poets.
Oliver writes, "To live in this world, you must be able to do three things, to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones, knowing
your own life depends on it; and when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go."
A strong essay or talk needs to be logically organized and written in such a way that the audience identifies with the problem, issue, or conflict and is eager to keep reading so they can learn about the solution. It might not be right for everyone, but if you lay it out in an appealing manner, they might make it to the end of your essay, and if they read it again, you know your pollen is worthy.
Clearly, I've been driving in circles for far too long, and it might be time to figure out where my audience actually wants to go.
So, if I haven't bored you to death, here's my long-winded solution that will either feed you or give you indigestion. I think Brian Miller's workshop might be just what I need to jumpstart my future, push me in a new direction with my writing (which is good for you), and if I ever need to address a live audience (even in my dreams), I'll be ready!
Maybe it's time this old blackbird learned to fly.
Brian offers a 2-day workshop on common speech design mistakes for speakers who want to make a lasting impression on their audience. It's called Build Your World Class Keynote, linked here. It's all done on Zoom, so anyone from anywhere can attend.
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