A Letter to Long-Winded Keyboard Jockeys (From Everyone)


Dear content creator:

I’m writing to you today because of a disturbing trend I’ve noticed lately.

The online world seems to have recently become more long-winded.

Long-winded can come in handy from time to time when, say, establishing the founding documents of a newly formed country – or maybe when writing safety manuals for equipment in nuclear power plants.

Long is also useful in certain articles, books, and ultimate guides. Scratch that… those things aren’t just long. They’re thorough, and that’s a whole different thing. A good thing.

But long for the sake of long… cut it out. Seriously.

How have we gotten to this place where we insist on equating long-winded with substantial? Sometimes they’re the same thing, but most of the time… not so much.

When my son was a baby, for instance, he would ramble on and on – and he didn’t know a single real word. 90 minutes of gibberish – and he didn’t say a damn thing. 

It was cute when he did it… and it’s not like I could very well opt out anyway. But guess what? I can now!

No offense, but I really don’t want to scroll down 50 or 60 lines to finish your email. I have a life, a job, a family, and a dog who seems to need to go outside really badly right this very second. Plus I think my scrolling finger has developed arthritis. Thanks so much for that, by the way.

And about sales pages: Yeah, I know there is data saying that long ones convert better and yadda, yadda, blah, blah, lorem ipsum…. zzzzzzzzzzzz.

Maybe it’s just me   (except it isn’t)   but I’d rather know why your offer is awesome right away. Why do you think I visited your sales page in the first place? I wasn’t forced. It’s because I’m interested already!  So get to the point and give me the juicy details now.

Don’t tell me, “but wait… there’s more.” I don’t want to wait. Waiting sucks.

If there’s more, tell me about it up front. And if you refuse to, no worries. I have Google – so I can pretty easily find someone else who will get to the point.

Oh, and don’t get wordy to demonstrate your intellect to me. I couldn’t care less how many long words, catch phrases, and buzzwords you know. It doesn’t matter to me in the slightest.

What does matter to me is how much I matter to you and how you can help me. Tell me that you get me – and then show me that you get me. Oh, and you might want to hurry – because, well, I still have Google.

No skin off my nose. Someone out there will tell me what I want to know quickly. It may not be you, but I’m ok with that. Are you? I have less patience than I used to, you know. “Digital Generation” and all that.

So in closing: Please don’t preach to me. Please don’t lecture me.

Just talk to me like a normal human being. Relate to me. I’m giving you a chance to make a real connection here, so spit it out. Get to the point.

I want to be your fan. I really do. But you need to be courteous of my time, too.

That’s not too much to ask for my loyalty and patronage, is it?

I’ve kept this letter short as a courtesy to you. (See how that works?)

Now I really must be going. I need to let that dog out.




Let us make a special effort to stop communicating with each other, so we can have some conversation. – Mark Twain



About the Author

Gary is a battle-tested sales and marketing pro, copywriter, coach, and business strategist who teaches how to become someone worth following on Reboot Authentic. Connect with Gary on Google+ and Twitter.

Leave a Reply 37 comments