Thank you for your patience.

I am always glad to see the words, “Thank you for your patience.”   I like them so much more than "Thanks in advance"—a thoughtless, ill-considered and standard closing of bill collectors and which has been adopted by too many people who ask for something and then thank the reader in advance for doing it.   Writing the words Thanks in advance is presumptuous; thank you for your patience is not, although it often lands in a similar position at the close of a piece of communication, whether e-mail or hard copy.

I read the words this morning from my banker who was attempting to resolve a bank discrepancy that he had already admitted was the bank's fault.  I didn't care whose fault it was as long as my account was credited with the money that had gone missing.

Having promised to fix the first attempt at fixing the problem that hadn't fixed it, my banker concluded with:  “Thank you for your patience.”

I thought it was exactly the right moment to use those words because I had waited for him to work out the solution and to implement it--a few business days.

But knowing when to be patient is not always as simple as that.  When I first learned of this problem, my friend Sue offered me two words that she said worked best at encouraging others to solve your problem:  "Squeaky wheel," said Sue.

I agree with her, but I also think there's a timing involved in being an effective squeaky wheel--a balance that allows for being patient, too.

I squeaked a little by explaining the problem, and then I waited.

The process reminded me of that brief flash of a parable in the book of Luke where Jesus shows us a fig tree that is not bearing fruit fast enough.  Tempted to cut it down, the story says, "Let's be patient.  Poke the soil.  Give it time."  Eugene Peterson interprets that story in THE MESSAGE in a context that teaches people with problems to solve how to be patient, for that is what the story is saying.  There's a time to weed and uproot and a time to poke the soil, maybe add some fertilizer, and then wait for progress to happen.

I lean that way more often than not.  While it is tempting to squeak loudly (and I saw this done recently at Walmart when a woman was denied a refund for a product that didn't work, and she stood her ground and said, "You expect me to swallow a hundred dollars for a piece of junk!"--the tactic worked; she got her money) but, in general, I'm not comfortable squeaking loudly in public or on the page or screen.

Instead, I try to use facts to present my case; and having presented it, I wait.  And present it again--and wait until some inner buzzer declares:  Long enough.

Then, I squeak some more, but so often I don't have to do that. So often, the facts and patient waiting bear the fruit of resolving a problem, and I haven't gotten upset or upset anyone else.  And during the interim while information may be passed back and forth, what used to be called a paper trail is created.  That trail is necessary for referencing later—to remind people who may need to understand what has happened so that it won’t happen again what did occur as it was recorded in a dispassionate way.

The next time you have a problem to solve or a complaint to register, spend your energy on the polite presentation of facts that represent your cause first.  Then, watch the solution grow--along with your patience.   Gratitude for resolution naturally flows from this occurrence, and it should.  Don’t be slow in saying, “Thank you” for someone’s patience or for any other reason at all.

Daphne Simpkins' most recent book is Christmas in Fountain City

The Bad-News Letter (isn't so bad after all).

It has a bad reputation--the bad-news letter, but that's only because the word bad is in it.

Actually, the bad-news letter has some important jobs to accomplish:  written clearly, the bad-news letter alerts the reader that there is a problem, suggests ways to correct the problem, asks for action in a way that tact and subtlety usually have failed to do (or you wouldn't be writing it) and creates a record of the problem and the point of view of management in case someone asks later, still blinded to his/her own shortcomings:   "What do you mean?"

That happens.

It happens because communication is hard in the workplace.  People are busy, self-centered, self-deceived and sometimes outright lazy.  A bad-news letter attempts to amelieorate the tensions that being human causes, and the good news is--it does.

Unlike other letters that contain bad news, the official bad news letter of a reprimand, for instance, is not usually a dead end letter.

It is used like a bell that serves as a wake up call.

Unlike a "Dear John" (or a "Dear Jane") letter that can break a reader's heart long distance, a bad-news letter has redeeming qualities. Its immediate goal is usually not to reject you; it's meant to cultivate you, improve your performance, get your attention.  

Its most significant redeeming quality is that the bad-news letter tells the reader the truth.

But even ordinarily perceptive people who are obtuse about their own shortcomings can still misread or misunderstand a bad-news letter.  That is why you need to keep some steps in mind if it is your job to write one:

1.  Begin in a non-threatening way
2.  Explain the problem
3.  Suggest ways to solve the problem you are writing about.
4. Ask for action to correct the problem.
5. Lay out a time frame for action and the promise to revisit the situation later after enough time has passed for the reader's action to have achieved results.
6. Close the letter in a friendly way, but don't make any promises you aren't prepared to keep.

Remember, the job of a bad-news letter is to ultimately help the reader.

Writing one doesn't make you a bad guy. It just means you're the boss.

Why A Paragraph Needs a Shape

Unlike a sack of potatoes, a paragraph needs a shape.  A paragraph is not a bag of rice.  It's not a tub of popcorn.

A paragraph is a collection of sentences that move the reader to follow along with the writer while he/she explores an idea that is introduced in the topic sentence.

So often, people assume that we have outgrown being mindful of paragraph shapes--have somehow decided that it is too much trouble to begin a paragraph with a topic sentence.

But when they are reading, people need a topic sentence at the top of a paragraph. They need the bridge that it makes by connecting the reader to the idea that the writer hopes you will be interested in enough to follow.

Unfortunately the shape of the paragraph has become a loose and pitiful thing.  It is more formless than it has ever been, largely because people forget that they are writing in different environments.

Different environments, like different occasions, dictate the nature of your attire; and when you are conducting business or communicating professionally, the attire is more structured.

Paragraphs should reflect that structure.

When they don't, they are really only the inside of the message you mean.  Look at your last casually written paragraph and ask yourself:  What's there?  What's missing?

If the paragraph has exactly the information in it that you wanted to send, then you have written the middle of your message but that doesn't mean that you reader will know how to process it, because you did not supply a bridge--an introductory sentence that lassoed your reader and held onto him/her until you loosened that loop--that paragraph--by writing a concluding sentence that primed your reader to draw the conclusions that you want him/her to make.

See?  Controlling the shape of the paragraph is about steering your readers to where you want their attention to go and then releases them when you have reached that safe place where agreement can be established.

The next time you have a message to share or information to report in a workplace situation, ask yourself: am I stuffing a sack with potatoes or writing a meaningful paragraph?  If the answer is the latter, then get yourself a lasso--a topic sentence--and catch a reader before you dump the message on him/her.

Strong Anecdotes Produce The Stickiness Factor

Not everyone tells a story well, but most everyone needs to be able to tell one for illustration purposes in the workplace.

There are different types of stories to tell and different times to tell them.

There is the story of your work and educational history that you tell in a job interview (These stories about you show up differently in the cover letter and through the resume, but they are still stories.)

Inside the interview process whether you are going to be a nurse, veterinarian or play the tuba, the person who wants to know your story is looking for something more than a rambling version of your life.  He/she is not even really looking for a faithful rendition of your story told in perfect chronological sequence. (It will be too long.)

He/she is looking for that vivid image or sound bite that reveals how committed you are to your vocation and perhaps can explain the turning point in your life when you made a decision that has brought you to the doorstep of this company and your story repeats that decision--explains:  This is it. This is what I want to do. This is why.  Interviewers want to know if you have committed yourself because they are about to make a financial commitment to you in training and perhaps a probationary period of employment. It costs money to hire people. Companies want to hire the right people, and that story you tell in the interview assures them of this.
Know that story about yourself and be ready to tell it when asked.  The person who does ask is not just making conversation.  He/she is looking for clues to your commitment, your resolve and what comes after the story you tell also tells another story:  when you make a decision, do you follow through?  What is the level of your commitment?

Stories matter in the workplace, and you will see and hear a bunch of them.

But you will tell stories too.

You will tell them after you have told the ones that helped you get a job.

You will use stories that illustrate a point you need to make where the numbers you have may not do the whole job of saying what you need to communicate. You will need to be able to tell the back story of an event as well as the story of an event itself.

You will learn how to use artwork to tell the story of what you mean, too, because artwork can indeed replace a thousand words.

You can tell a story when logic alone won't move your listener to agree with you or even entertain your point of view.  When you do that, you are moving into using a type of story referred to as having emotional appeal.

There are as many labels for stories as there are stories, and they gain their subtitles and categories by the functions they perform.

But today, we are looking at stories--workplace stories.  There are as many of them as there needs to be, but they share one major dynamic in common:  the most effective ones have a sticky quality--they stick with the reader/the listener, and they do that because they are tightly written or told, have a better than average share of action verbs, use adjectives (sparingly) that engage the senses and go some place and then stop.

Good stories, like blog entries, have a beginning and an ending.

Good bye.

An Email Is Not a Thread on a Discussion Board

Two minutes ago I received an e-mail that read: why is that  (No punctuation)

It was as if the speaker thought we were having a conversation and answered in what is commonly called stream-of-consciousnessness.

Typically associated with British writers like Virginia Woolf and James Joyce  stream-of-consciousness writing in the workplace has no redeeming literary values but it does tell a story:

It says to the reader that the reader who engages in plugs of conversation written without mindfulness (no caps or punctuation) lives in the center of his universe where he/she believes that no other conversations are happening without him or are not about him.

It is an arrogant, careless posture that puts the burden on unpacking the message intended on the reader who is first stymied by the sloppy prose and then must back peddle to see what this person is writing about.

It is poor writing.  It does not communicate any idea clearly.  And it does not usually persuade the reader of anything the writer has in mind, but it does convince the reader that the writer does not know the difference between different types and functions of workplace documents--doesn't know the difference between a phone call message or a note on a Post-It sheet or that an e-mail message to a boss (yep, that's me) is not the same type of communique that one writes to a pal where "why is that" would most likely make sense in the shorthand world of fast communication between friends.

While most workplaces attempt to create and foster a teamwork building atmosphere even that goal should not result in the off-the-cuff, ill-considered communications that show up in professionals' e-boxes where they are read as workplace documents and used, like hard copy documents, for recordkeeping and tools of productivity.

Any time you have to squint at the screen and ask yourself 'Who is this and what is he writing about?' it might be best to simply hit the reply button when the question asked of you is the one the sender needs to reconsider: why is that  ?

Paths of Motion: Intuitive Movements and Counter-Intuitive on the Web

My exercise guru Leslie Sansone uses the phrase "paths of motion" when she teaches me how to try a different walking step, like moving side to side.  It never seems hard when she shows me; but, I find that she's right to acknowledge that I need to learn this "path of motion" before I can rely upon my body's muscle memory to accomplish it for me by rote.

Similarly, when I attempt to learn new techniques for using technology, I find that what seems logical to me often does not result in a logical effect--at least, not the way I define logic.  I'm an old two-plus-two-equals- four thinker, and sometimes what seems to happen is a more fractionalized division of zig-zagging steps that move from a point of origin to a destination. 

Navigating technological tools that mark the path don't seem as familiar to me usually as 2 plus 2 or moving side-to-side.  If your brain is wired to move in concert with technology or the movements of the social media, then you can call yourself "intuitive", but it your brain doesn't work like that, your response is considered "counter-intuitive."

Lately I'm trying to figure out how to teach my brain to be more intuitive.  To do that, I am reexamining my questions that I ask before doing something as simple as posting a link that features me.   My initial response:  Isn't this vain to post this link?  My second thought is:  Isn't this just business to post a link that builds your presence on the web?   It still feels vain and wrong to do it, and I did it anyway because my new brainwave path is:  You don't don't know the answer, and your feelings are not telling you the truth about how the social media does its work.  Set aside your feelings and your predispositions, and see what happens after you do it.

I did it--posted a link that showcased my short stories featuring church woman Mildred Budge.  http://www.churchmousepublications.com/   Encouragement from friends followed.  The link traveled.  Other people discovered the news that the link contained.  My head didn't get any bigger from the attention.  In fact, just the opposite happened.

There's something very humbling about moving into the currents of the social media that have a path of motion that is vital in business today.  It's like launching a small vessel onto the large ocean without a map, no real knowledge of how to read the stars and a compass that tells you the direction you're headed but you don't know if that's where you want to go.

My intuition regularly tells me that I am vain to try to try something new on the web that feels foreign to my muscle memory or sensibilities; but my feelings and intuition are not the truth. The reality is that there's room for everyone on the web, and the path of motion doesn't lead where I thought it would.

It leads to a new way of being with people and communicating news, and it's not negative or wrong because it feels counter-intuitive.  Like the ocean, it just is and it has many paths of motion that anyone who works needs to learn.

What that means is that how it works doesn't fit with the muscle memory of your brainpower, and you are teaching your brain to think like that so that you can navigate more efficiently in the future.

That will happen.  Testing the waters teaches your brain the paths of motion.

http://www.churchmousepublications.com/

Don't Ask Your Daughter (Or, at least, don't say you will.)

After I finished upgrading my friend’s resume—she had been looking for a new job for 18 months since the economy fired her—I printed 10 copies on deluxe paper, put it in a good envelope, and handed it to her with the instructions: “Just cut and paste the body of that cover letter into a new document any time you need to produce a fresh cover letter. Do you know how to cut and paste using a word processor?”

“My daughter does,” she said with satisfaction, taking the package.

She peeped inside and then held the envelope appreciatively. “I can use this envelope to turn in an application,” she remarked, looking at me to make sure the envelope came with the resumes permanently. I nodded, sure.

That happens a lot with people who have lost their jobs and who I sometimes help find a job by spiffing up a resume that is twenty years old. When they give their old resume to me they usually say, “There’s not much to work with.”

I immediately want to hand them a copy of Norman Vincent Peale’s old classic The Power of Positive Thinking because they need a booster shot of self confidence. They lost their jobs, and now they are on the market like divorcés that were married a long time and must figure out how to date again.

In that way I am a kind of matchmaker, a business-writing teacher at the local university who has been giving advice to many of my friends who are back on the job market and want tips on how to look better on the page of their resumes and perhaps sound stronger—more positive—in a job interview which they get if their resume tells a persuasive story about their careers, their skills, and their ability to solve problems.

When I ask human resource managers what they are screening for when reading resumes they all say, “I am looking for a problem solver.” More than one HR manager has added, “I don’t care if someone worked in fast food or a doctor’s office; I need problem solvers.”

It’s the universal job requirement whatever the job, and when I help script new resumes I look for opportunities in a person’s work history that proves this. Ironically, needing to look like a problem solver happens to people who are at a low point and not at all sure they can solve the problem of their own unemployment. The good news is—they can, and it happens in simple ways like answering the question of whether you know how to cut and paste using a word processing system.

When someone asks you if you can cut and paste, you may not be able to truthfully say yes, but you should not say you are going to ask your daughter or any other young person to do it for you.

It’s not that I don’t understand the impulse. I do. There are times when I luxuriate in the notion of calling my niece Katie and saying, “My IPod needs refreshing.” But it’s not because I can’t refresh my own IPod; it is that I sometimes create reasons for my niece to come over. She feels strongly about my IPod and music, and those two passions are enough to bring her to my house for a visit.

Sometimes our dependency on the young people in our lives to solve our tech problems is the way we have figured out to keep them close—or close enough to visit—but saying that out loud to people who are trying to help you find a job where you need to be a problem solver and technologically competent in word processing maneuvers is a luxurious answer you can’t afford to make while you are looking for a job. Not now. Not in this recession that may be on its way out—but until a person who is out of a job gets a job, it isn’t.

I believe she can find a job. I believe a new resume will help her, and her resume looks pretty good if I do say so myself. It is error free. The information is organized logically. It telegraphs some meaningful strengths and interprets her work history in a positive way using language that proves she is a seasoned, dependable worker who has proven to be a negotiator and a problem-solver—key pieces of information that a prospective employer will zero in on.

My friend reads her new resume, and and says, “You see a lot in me that I don’t see in myself.”

I smile. “It’s all true,” I reply. “Isn’t it?”

She reads, nods. “You have made my name awfully big on the page.”

She feels small these days; her name in 16 pt font in the header seems bigger than she feels.

“It’s not too big,” I promise her. “And you will notice on that cover letter I have drafted for you that I cut and pasted the same header from the resume onto the letterhead so that you can have consistency in the appearance of your professional documents. In sales we call that branding; in business writing we call that telegraphing that you are organized, predictable and consistent.”

She eyes her big name skeptically and seems to shrink inside.

“Read that letter several times. Read your resume over and over. Double-check me. We can make changes.”

She shakes her head, resistant to having to make corrections on a document that she can put in that good envelope and deliver to her one job lead that she has.

I didn’t think she would ask for any changes. She’s disoriented, out of work, and like other people I have been helping as a friend to rebuild resumes in order to launch them back into the job market she doesn’t trust herself right now. Doesn’t believe in herself. Doesn’t actually know what positive thinking is. At its core, positive thinking is having the will or the self confidence to solve problems.

And that is what employers are looking for in their workplaces where problems abound as they always have, and where people who have been caught by surprise—and people who lose their jobs are all caught by surprise—must indicate that they have adjusted and can adapt and learn the basics of a new job environment, such as features of word processing that are simple formulas, like cut and paste.

Finding a job isn’t as simple, but learning the simple skills that prove that you are a problem solver can get you there are. Until you know them, believe that you can learn them. And if someone asks you what appears to be an off-the-cuff question like, “Can you cut and paste?” the answer is not that you’ll ask your daughter; instead, prove that you are a problem solve and reply, “I’ll get it done.”