Writing How You Speak

Hello dear reader. Welcome to my shed.

It’s not a shed in the real sense. But I like to imagine it is. Although, it will likely become a pub a little bit later in this post.

Pull up a chair, grab a biscuit, and help yourself to a mug of tea. Let’s embark on a journey into the world of words — though I should warn you, the signposts are mostly guesses and the path occasionally turns into a pond.

Now then. What qualifies me to offer writing advice?

Absolutely nothing. I’m winging it like a bloke juggling dynamite next to a naked flame. But then again, aren’t we all?

Writing’s a peculiar business. We make it up as we go. I’ve written a book, a handful of feature articles, some tutorials, and at least 109 blog posts (probably more, but my calculator packed it in and ran away to join the circus).

And in that time, I’ve learned… well, sod all, really. So I thought I’d share what I haven’t learned, in case it’s useful to someone.

Not as a teacher, mind. Think of this as a pub chat — we’re gathered around a sticky table, sipping warm pints and scoffing cheese and onion crisps, muttering about commas.

So, where do we start?

Writing. The act of putting words down in an order that can be read by others. Sounds simple.

It’s not.

You can do it. I can do it. But whether anyone wants to read it? Ah, that’s another ferret in the drawer.

So what can we do?

Remind people politely? Bribe them with biscuits? Threaten them with a curse of eternal farting toads? (Tempting, but unwise.)

Instead — write like you. Not like someone else. Use your own fingers. Don’t try to sound clever or posh. Avoid words you wouldn’t say aloud in conversation (unless you’re a duck. In which case: quack on.)

Write easy. Write true. Write daft if you must.

And most of all: enjoy the mess.

That’s all for now. Goodnight if it’s night. Good day if it’s tomorrow.