Title: Why People Don't Get Your Writing

In junior high, I was failing one of my classes at midterm. That meant I had to take home a progress report, get it signed by a parent, and return it the next day. If you "forgot," the consequence was a trip to the counselor's office.

So guess where I ended up?

I sat in a tiny, stuffy, closet office next to the man in the white short-sleeved button up with a fat tie (when skinny was the style) at his cluttered desk when he hit me with what he thought was a life-altering gem: 

"If I gave you a million dollars to get that signed and bring it back, you would have remembered."

He waited for the lightbulb to go on. It didn't. 

I just said, "Yeah." 

He nodded like he'd just handed me the keys to eternal life.

But I didn't get it. Not then.

Looking back, I assume he was trying to say: "If it mattered to you (like a million dollars would matter to you), you would have remembered." 

But it didn't matter to me. In fact, I didn't want to remember to tell my parents I was failing. There was no reward for remembering—just punishment.

He assumed I saw the connection. I didn't. 

And that's what I see in a lot of writing. The writer assumes the reader is tracking with something in his or her mind. But the reader isn't in your head—they're just reading your words.

If the reader can't run with what you wrote, you didn't make it plain enough. You have to spell out the connection.

My junior high counselor assumed too much. I needed the commentary on his teaching.

My advice is to let someone read your work and tell you where they get lost. You will need to err on the side of clarity.

Don't make them guess.

"Write the vision; make it plain on tablets, so he may run who reads it." (Habakkuk 2:2, ESV)

Jeff B. Miller

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