Writing
Writing that people actually read
Most professional writing is skimmed at best, which changes what good writing means.

The assumption behind most workplace writing is that someone will read it carefully from the beginning, which is almost never true.
How people actually read
The evidence.
Studies of online reading behaviour consistently find scanning rather than reading: attention concentrated at the top, on headings, on the first words of paragraphs and on anything visually distinct.
Reading time on any given page is short.
Which means the structure and the first sentences carry most of the load, and material buried in the middle of a long paragraph is functionally invisible.
Front-loading
The single most useful principle.
Put the conclusion first, then the reasoning.
Which is the opposite of academic and narrative structures and is correct for anything a busy person will read.
The first paragraph should contain the point, the decision required and the deadline if there is one.
Anyone stopping after the first paragraph should still know what you want.
And anyone continuing should find the supporting detail below.
Structure that survives skimming
Practical.
Headings that state content rather than label sections — "we need a decision by Friday" rather than "next steps".
Short paragraphs, since a wall of text is skipped.
The point of each paragraph in its first sentence.
Lists for anything enumerable.
Bold for the genuinely essential, sparingly, since everything emphasised means nothing is.
And white space, which is not wasted.
Sentences
Where clarity is made.
Shorter than feels natural, and varied in length so the rhythm does not become monotonous.
Active rather than passive where the actor matters: "the team missed the deadline" rather than "the deadline was missed", which conceals who.
Concrete rather than abstract nouns.
One idea per sentence.
And subject and verb close together, since separating them forces the reader to hold the subject in mind.
The words to cut
Which appear in almost every draft.
Hedges: perhaps, somewhat, rather, quite, arguably — which weaken without adding.
Intensifiers: very, really, extremely — which generally indicate that a stronger word exists.
Throat-clearing openings: "I just wanted to reach out to say", "it is worth noting that".
Nominalisations: "conduct an investigation" rather than "investigate", which is longer and vaguer.
And jargon that has a plain equivalent, which is used to signal membership rather than to communicate.
Email specifically
Where most professional writing happens.
Subject lines that state the content and any required action: "decision needed by Friday: supplier choice".
The request in the first line.
One topic per email, since multi-topic emails receive partial responses.
Short.
Explicit about who needs to do what by when, since "let me know your thoughts" produces silence.
And not sent when angry, which is the single most reliable rule in professional communication.
Editing
Which is where writing is made.
Write first without editing, then edit separately, since doing both at once produces neither.
Cut ten per cent, which almost every draft can lose without losing content.
Read it aloud, which reveals awkward constructions and overlong sentences immediately.
Check that the first paragraph contains the point.
Check that each heading is informative.
And leave it overnight where the stakes justify it, since the errors invisible when writing are obvious the next day.
Knowing the reader
Which determines everything.
What do they already know, and what do they need explained?
What do they care about, which is frequently not what you care about?
How much time will they give this?
What do you want them to do?
And what would make them stop reading?
Writing that answers these is different from writing that does not, and the difference is visible immediately.
The test
Before sending anything.
Read only the first paragraph and the headings.
Does that convey the point and the required action?
If not, the document is structured for a reader who does not exist.
The revision that matters most
One pass, done last, that changes more than any other.
Read only the first sentence of every paragraph, in sequence.
If those sentences alone do not tell the story, the paragraphs are not front-loading their points, and a reader skimming — which is most readers — will get nothing.
Fix that before fixing anything else.
The second pass is subtraction: delete every sentence that restates the one before it, every qualifier that does not change the meaning, and every example beyond the first that makes the same point.
Most drafts lose a quarter of their length this way and lose nothing else.
Knowing when to stop
Which is a real problem for anyone who edits well.
The returns on polishing fall off sharply, and past a certain point the changes are lateral rather than improvements.
The signal: you are moving sentences back to a form you already rejected.
At that point it is finished, and continuing costs time without producing a better document.
Also by Mei-Lin Chow
- Listening in a language you are learningLanguages
- Reading in another languageLanguages
- Keeping a language you already haveLanguages
- Writing that persuadesWriting





