A Welcome Invitation
For just a moment, I was six years old and back in my grandmother's kitchen. She scowled down at me, disapproval etched in every line of her face. Her voice hissed with fury. "You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar."
At six, I had no idea why I'd want flies, and all I knew about vinegar was its sharp smell in Easter egg dye, which was closely
associated with foil-wrapped chocolate. I knew what honey was, but I'd never seen or tasted it. I had no clue what I'd done to make her so angry. Under her scorching glare, my confusion shifted right past shame to flat-out fury of my own.
Whatever she wanted me to do, I would do the opposite.
Whatever it was I had been doing, I'd find a way to do more.
I blinked and the printout I'd been reading swam back into focus. Just an early draft from a client who wanted help in improving the text. "It's really important," the client had said. "They have to get it, you know? Really get it."
That didn't sound too earth-shattering. After all, persuasion is an important element in practically every type of writing.
But why then was this humble draft making me so prickly? What in those words kicked me back to that long-ago altercation in my strict grandma's kitchen?
Ah: the tone.





As I read, I heard earnestness sliding into angry desperation. Passion deteriorating into pedantic diatribe. Heartfelt sincerity devolving into judgmental pontificating. I heard my angry grandmother. And, reading, I experienced the same obstinate rebellion I felt back then.
Fortunately, this is an unfinished draft, and there is time to spring the story from its didactic trap.
I begin by thinking about the purpose of the story--What do we want to say and why?--and about my readers--Who are they? What will pique their interest?
Or to put this another way: You can stomp your foot and demand
that your readers come in--or you can invite them in and welcome them with open arms.
For some writers, focusing on purpose translates to, "You better learn from this, you've got to get it the way I want you to, you've got to do what I want you to do as a result, and if you don't, you're wrong."
A more powerful approach is to consider what is in alignment with your purpose. Instead of hitting your readers over the head with the mission, goals, and objectives, you extend an invitation. You welcome your readers in to explore, to discover, to enjoy. You invite them to learn on their own terms.
A welcoming invitation grants your reader the freedom to take away the meaning that is most appropriate for that individual reader at that particular time. You don't control that specific meaning, but with the right tone, you influence it. It's through
this influence that the other meanings, the important messages you're determined to convey, come through. They come along for the ride, and are all the better for it.
This doesn't mean that your writing has to be light, frivolous, or funny (though it can be). You can (and should, when topic, theme, or situation require it) be serious or somber. But even when serious and somber, you are still open and inviting. You are welcoming the readers into the story and inviting them to participate.
So set aside your worries that they "won't get it." You don't have to preach or pontificate. You can be earnest, enthusiastic, and idealistic without being didactic or judgmental.
Your readers are awaiting your invitation.
Write with respect and a generous spirit, and they'll come right in.
Judy