Can I change your mind?
There’s a writing event going on that we’re sure is intended not only for writers but for anyone who uses words in business. Oh, so an incredibly large proportion of us then, and if we don’t use words in business then we use them in multiple other organisations and scenarios where an incredibly large proportion of the same tips and techniques will undoubtedly apply.
Billed as a masterclass in writing and communication in business by John Simmons and Jamie Jauncey, authors of a new book, Room 121, the event is on 26th July at 6.30pm at the October Gallery, 24 Gloucester Street, London, WC1N 3AL. This is all vital information in helping to inform and persuade you of the attractiveness of the event and the practicalities of your being there. You can find out some more here:
www.26.org.uk
As members of 26 we also received an email describing how the book by Simmons and Jauncey uses the form and style of a blog, with the authors exchanging thoughts, ideas and methods with one another on the factors that make business communication and writing successful – or not. We wonder if this approach will be mirrored in the event. What we do know is that the event will end up in a pub round the corner. A very persuasive piece of information within the email received.
The publication of, Room 121, which out of curiosity we are sure to purchase, reminded us of another book on writing published in 2007 that we have wholeheartedly stolen the title of this blog from: Can I change your mind? This book is about the craft and art of persuasive writing and is by Lindsay Camp. We can definitely recommend it. One of our favourite lines from it is this:
“Why is it when people write, they so often seem to forget completely what it’s like to read?”
Camp dedicates a chapter to understanding your reader, referring to them as an individual for whom you must personalise the message. He makes it sound quite straightforward but in an era when companies’ list of stakeholders is forever increasing, often with unknown stakeholders who suddenly make themselves known on the web, being precise about ‘readership’ is tricky to say the least. But in line with what Camp recommends, what about if we ask ourselves this question when we begin to write a piece: Who do I want to persuade the most?
With this clarity on who (build as defined a picture of this person as you can), writing will be less of a melange based on the hope that something with someone might stick. It will be an adroitly formed tiramisu, with individual layers of persuasiveness combining to become the perfect serving of argument.
Not everyone will agree with your argument. But at least they will understand it. Which means there is a chance you will change their mind.