A lot of content gets condensed to just their soundbite-y points.
It happens on Twitter (sorry (not sorry), X!), of course.
Also, not just books but articles are easily summarized nowadays, thanks to AI.
There’s also the notion that, as a writer, you should cut everything unnecessary:
Use as few words, sentences and paragraphs as possible. Then stop.
Remember: The data shows you'll be lucky to keep your reader for 200 words. So why waste time?
(Jim VandeHei, 5 tips from "Smart Brevity": Short, not shallow)
There's value in summarization and brevity, sure.
One of the strongest arguments against condensed content, however, is that it doesn’t engage your thinking the same way in-depth long-form content does.
But that’s not what we will talk about this time, nope!
Instead…
I’ve noticed something in my own behavior (that you may be able to relate to):
While I do consume a lot of tightly packaged content...
I find myself preferring writers who fill their content with what some people call "fluff" or “filler.”
There’s an interesting debate to be had here: Should you keep your content as “tight” as possible, or should you write kinda like this:
For example, I really like reading Justin Blackman (who helps people with brand voice creation). Check out this snippet from one of his emails:
Crazy, right?
James Bond, one of the most memorable names in the world, was designed to be one of the most forgettable.
And it’s all due to a tactic writers are taught to avoid.
See, when writing, repetition can seem lazy… and in many cases it is.
In fact, on a recent voice guide I created, the client was adamant we don’t repeat major words close together.
Cool.
But also… I do it all the time. I’ve even done it several times in this email—and I assure you, it’s anything but lazy.
It’s
diet cokediacopeDiacope literally means “to cut in two,” but more specifically it’s to sandwich together.
Here…
“To be, or not to be”
“Fly, my pretties! Fly!”
“Burn, baby, burn”
“Run, Forrest, run”
“Sunday, bloody Sunday”
“Love me, love me, say that you love me”
"More saving, more doing"
“Game over, man. Game over”The repetition is deliberate. And I’m willing to bet a bottle of bourbon that you read at least two of those lines in a character’s voice.
(Side note: if you read the second as The Wicked Witch... She never actually said that. She calls Dorothy “my pretty,” but not the monkeys.)
Full of jokes, filler words, and side notes. Intentionally so, you should know.
Some people skim through this type of writing, trying not to waste their time. Others find it a more enjoyable read.
But before we explore that line of thought further, let’s look at another example.
This is an excerpt from one of André Chaperon’s and Shawn Twing’s (who help creators build businesses) newsletters:
Hey, it's André & Shawn...
"There is nothing to writing," Ernest Hemingway said. "All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."
We haven't used typewriters for a while, but we've had our fair share of knife fights trying to wrestle words onto the screen.
Today we'd like to share a few tips and tools we've learned along the way that can make your writing better, faster, and easier.
And, if we get it right, a little less bloody.
Rather than jam those ideas into one long newsletter, we're going to take a leisurely stroll with you over the next three days. If you look closely, you'll see some 'show and tell' along the way.
We love Easter Eggs and this series is full of 'em...
And yes, of course, there's a big surprise waiting for you at the end of the journey. We don't want to give anything away yet so we'll just say it's something we've never done before, and something we've wanted to do for a long time.
(And, shhhh ... don't tell anyone, it's something that scares the hell out of us too. Our imposter syndrome is on full alert.)
More about that later...
Before we dive in, let's talk about why you might care about writing at all.
Some readers might be shouting “get to the point!” at this, because…
They don't just give you the "meat" right away. Instead, they tease you, sparking a sense of curiosity and tension. They take you on a journey. And they make you “dig for the gold” – you must actively engage with their text to get the point.
These kinds of writers are the first ones I go to when I open my email inbox. Writers who don’t give you just information but something more…
But what is that “something more”?
To find that out, let’s try a little experiment…
You can cut too much
I asked my good pal ChatGPT to cut everything unnecessary out of the examples above.
Here’s the first snippet:
It's fascinating to think that James Bond, a globally recognized character, was intentionally designed to have a forgettable name, illustrating a counterintuitive writing tactic. Often, writers are advised to avoid repetition as it can seem lazy; however, repetition, specifically diacope, a rhetorical device that involves the repetition of a word or phrase with one or two intervening words, is deliberately used for impact in many famous lines such as "To be, or not to be" or "Run, Forrest, run." It's almost certain that you read at least two of these lines in a character's voice, proving the power of deliberate repetition.
Only the point remains. Everything else – the humor, the writer’s voice – is lost.
Here’s the second example:
Hey, it's André & Shawn. Hemingway said, "All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." Writing is tough, but we have some tips and tools to make it better, faster, and less bloody. Instead of one long newsletter, we'll share these over three days, with Easter Eggs and a big, scary surprise at the end - something new we've always wanted to do. More on that later. For now, let's discuss why writing is important to you.
This one lost its tension – you’re no longer excited to hear what’s to come.
So, basically:
When you cut all the “unnecessary” bits, all the emotion gets cut too.
It’s like reading the plot summary of a great movie instead of watching the damn thing.
And that’s a problem because, as humans, we tend to crave emotional experiences.
You keep listening to your favorite music to relive the emotional rush it once gave you. You rewatch a movie because the first viewing had a profound emotional effect on you. And it’s the same with writers – those who create emotional experiences tend to attract a loyal audience that keeps returning for more.
There's a bond there that those creators obsessed with cutting their content to the bone can't produce.
Where does this obsession with brevity come from?
Let's consider the opposite perspective for a moment:
In their book "Smart Brevity," Axios founders Jim VandeHei et al. make a good case for writing brief content.
They share tips like:
"Stop being selfish! It is self-indulgent to force me to sort through hundreds of words to figure out what you're trying to tell me."
"The first sentence of anything you write should include the most essential info, using as few words as possible: Here is the one thing I need you to know."
"Write like a human! Most of us are fairly normal in conversation. But when we sit down to write, we try to sound like Walt Whitman or a Harvard professor."
"Remember: The data shows you'll be lucky to keep your reader for 200 words. So why waste time?"
(Jim VandeHei, 5 tips from "Smart Brevity": Short, not shallow)
All pretty good tips.
However...
The reason for creating solely condensed content may be rooted in fear. Fear of boring your readers or losing their attention.
As Colin Dickey says in their review of Smart Brevity (emphasis mine):
Rather than fight the trend of online distraction, Smart Brevity’s authors embrace it: Today’s writing, they argue, must be fast, clipped, cut to the bone, with every sentence tightly packed with information and designed to grab eyeballs. With an “if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em” ethos, Smart Brevity argues that there’s no way to overcome the distraction economy, so one must fine tune one’s writing to compete with TikTok and Twitter.
Which side of the fence do you want to be on?
If you value brevity over crafting emotional experiences, Smart Brevity might be the guide for you.
But... If your motivation to condense your content (until only the point remains) is because you can't earn people's attention (or you're afraid you can't), that's a shaky motivation.
I know about the study that found human attention spans to be shorter than those of goldfish these days.
Yet many of us still read long novels, watch feature-length films, or spend hours studying an interesting topic.
Also, that goldfish thing was actually… fake news.
Shocked goldfish aside, here’s the point (that should’ve been at the very beginning of this post if I was “smart" ):
Don't be afraid to write content the way you want to write. If your style includes silly jokes, digressions, analogies, or other "fluff," go for it.
Not all “fluff” is unnecessary. Some of it serves an important purpose.
Peace, love, and digressions,
Mitro
P.S. Self-indulgence vs. self-expression
There's a fine line between self-indulgent/meandering and self-expression/interesting content...
Sometimes, one falls on the "wrong side of the fence." I know I have. 😄 But that's ok. It's part of the process of finding your voice.
P.P.S. Smart brevity does exist
(And I’m not talking about the book. I’m talking about the concept: brevity that is smart.)
If you’ve ever spent hours writing and editing a short tweet/note, your short bio, an important paragraph in your essay, or any other short piece of content…
You know how difficult it can sometimes be to find just the right words or the right tone to transfer your often-times ambiguous thoughts and feelings to your reader. This can be particularly challenging when it comes to creating short-form content.
Now, that’s smart brevity!
You care so much about the reader getting the right message that you end up putting a disproportionately large amount of effort into something as short as a single paragraph.
P.P.P.S. When brevity is better
When you’re googling information, that content better be brief and actionable!
That’s just one of the contexts in which brevity rules.
However, in this newsletter, I’m more interested in exploring content designed to attract and engage an audience. For example, content that you would write for your newsletter or email list. And in that context, it’s possible to have too much brevity and too little style.
Loved this! I read Smart Brevity a while back and experienced a lot of personal resistance/hesitation at points throughout it, but wasn’t entirely sure why - you’ve done an excellent job putting words to it.
Also, kind of concerning (but maybe to be expected) that the “unnecessary” bits of content ChatGPT cut out had to do with human emotion...