The Difference Between Writing That Connects and Writing That Fizzles

Good writing isn’t about sounding smart—it’s about connecting with your reader. Learn how to ditch the fluff, simplify your words, and write like a human.

The difference between good writing and great writing isn't talent—it's decisions. Every sentence, every word, is a choice. And yet, many writers make a critical mistake without even realizing it: they try to sound "writerly."

"Writerly" writing is the enemy of clarity. It’s the unnecessary flourish, the long-winded explanation, the overuse of big words to sound impressive. It feels sophisticated, but it’s often hollow. And worst of all, it creates distance between you and your reader.

The irony? The best writing doesn't feel like writing at all. It feels like a conversation.

The Trap of Trying Too Hard

Why do writers fall into this trap? Because we’ve been taught to think of writing as a performance. In school, we’re rewarded for complex sentences, obscure vocabulary, and formal tone. The result? A generation of writers who equate "sounding smart" with being effective.

But readers aren’t grading your essay. They’re looking for something that resonates, something that makes them think, laugh, or feel understood. When you prioritize how you sound over what you’re saying, you lose them.

Take this sentence: "It is imperative that we utilize our time judiciously in order to maximize productivity." It’s not wrong, but it’s not right either. Compare it to: "We need to use our time wisely to get more done." Which one feels like it came from a human?

Start Prioritizing Connection

The solution is simple but not easy: stop writing to impress and start writing to connect.

Think of your favorite writers. They don’t feel like distant intellectuals pontificating from on high. They feel like friends who are just a bit smarter or more insightful than you. Their language is clear, their ideas sharp, and their tone conversational.

Here’s how to do it:

  1. Choose the simpler word. Use "help" instead of "facilitate," "start" instead of "commence," and "use" instead of "utilize." Simpler words carry more weight because they don’t call attention to themselves.
  2. Write how you speak. If you wouldn’t say it to a friend over coffee, don’t write it. Test this by reading your work aloud. Awkward phrasing will stick out immediately.
  3. Cut the fluff. Look for phrases that don’t add value—like “in order to,” “due to the fact that,” or “as a result of.” Nine times out of ten, you can say the same thing with fewer words.

Exercises to Build Better Habits

Improving your writing is like improving your fitness—it takes consistent effort. Here are two exercises to help you start:

  1. The "One-Sentence Test": Take a paragraph from your writing and reduce it to a single sentence. Then, expand it back into a paragraph, but keep the simplicity of that one sentence in mind.Example:
    • Original: "The goal of this article is to illustrate the importance of concise language in professional communication, which often suffers from an overabundance of unnecessary verbosity."
    • Reduced: "Concise language makes communication better."
    • Rewritten: "Concise language makes communication clearer, faster, and more effective."
  2. Rewrite a Formal Email: Take an overly formal email or paragraph and rewrite it as if you were explaining it to a friend. Then compare the two versions. Which one feels more natural?

A Personal Lesson

When I started writing essays, I thought the goal was to sound smart. I agonized over every word, trying to impress some invisible judge. But then, something unexpected happened: a friend emailed me about one of my early essays and said, "I loved this. It felt like you were sitting across from me, just talking."

That was a turning point. I realized that the less I tried to sound smart, the more my ideas resonated. Readers don’t care how much you know—they care how much you can make them feel, think, or see the world differently.

The Takeaway

Good writing doesn’t draw attention to itself. It draws attention to the ideas behind it. The best compliment you can get as a writer isn’t, “That was well-written.” It’s, “I’ve never thought of it that way.”

So stop trying to be a writer. Be a thinker, a teacher, a storyteller. Write like a human, not a thesaurus. When you do, you’ll find that your words don’t just inform—they connect. And that’s the kind of writing that lasts.

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