Writing has always been second nature to me. At a very young age, I wrote stories, did well in grammar classes and received accolades from my teachers for my writing skills. And while fiction was always my first love, I needed to earn a living so I used my skills to find a career in communications – back when the role was still relatively new to the workplace.
Over the years, the field has become popular and most organizations have a communications or writer function. But in my observation, one thing remains a constant struggle – the skill of writing is not always given the respect it deserves. And that’s because so many people believe they can do it.
As a communicator, I abide by a rule of thumb – understand your audience. Recognize they may not be technical, they don’t care about your internal operations and they want to know how this announcement affects them. Why should they bother to read it and what will make them act? What will give you the desired results? As simple as it sounds, this is one of the biggest oversights I’ve witnessed in the corporate environment. Many people who believe they are ‘good writers’ often tend to overlook the audience.
In my career, I’ve been fortunate to work with successful senior leaders who rely heavily on their communications teams. They don’t have time to do research and they don’t have time to wordsmith sentences, mostly because the latter is a waste of time. They are busy. They need facts, they need strong messages, and they need simple language. This is where trust comes in.
Trust is key to any relationship in the workplace. It’s also the reason that many communicators leave their roles. If your senior leader does not trust your edits, your insight or your advice on how to reach the intended audience, then the relationship is doomed.
Twenty years ago, I worked for a municipality where I was tasked to write for the Mayor and City Councillors. I remember returning for lunch one day to find a message that I had written for the Mayor, sitting on my chair with two words scratched out and replaced with words I could not read. I approached my manager who indicated the writing belonged to the Mayor – Hazel McCallion – and I would have to ask her to decipher the handwriting.
Hesitantly, I made my way to the Mayor’s office. She looked right at me, saw the paper in my hand and came over. I pointed at the hand-scribbled words, quite nervous, and asked what she wanted to say. She leaned over and said, “Oh, I just thought that we could change these two words,” and looked at me as if to say, ‘Is that ok?’ Naturally I agreed and went back to my desk to make the edits.
It was an experience that demonstrated the mark of a true leader – delegate, respect and collaborate.
I’ve been a communicator and writer for 35 years. I’ve worked with senior leaders, politicians. I’ve written for a daily newspaper, and I’ve written two books. Yet I seek the advice of others, because I recognize that I don’t know everything and there’s always room for improvement.
If I have staff on my team, I always ask for their final review of my work. Because it’s almost impossible to write and edit your own work at the same time, simply because you are too close to it. Often, if mistakes are found – typos, and yes, even grammar (because it happens), I’m grateful. I’m not embarrassed, nor do I feel slighted. Because our jobs as communicators are to be the gatekeepers of information so the organization is represented in a positive light. If they catch my oversights, they are valuable to me and to the company.
I went back to fiction writing ten years ago and I had to re-learn the skill to write in that genre. So I sought the input and feedback from established fiction writers and editors – many who started writing later in life than me, but had spent time honing their craft in the literary industry. It’s through their help that I learned how to become a better fiction writer – and each time I interact with one of these brilliant minds, I learn something new.
It’s true that writing is a basic survival skill – like walking or running. But not everyone can win marathons just because they can run fast. I can count but I don’t do my own taxes. Everyone has a role to play, and not everyone has the skill to be a professional writer. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
If you work with a writer/communicator, learn to trust them. Respect their role and their knowledge. Focus on the skill you bring to the table, and don’t be afraid to seek their input. If they make changes, ask them for an explanation to understand their rationale. You might be surprised at what they see that you can’t, and how valuable they can be to your own success.