How to Avoid Alienating Your Readers
Here’s a lesson I learned the hard way: readers and writers are not always on the same page.
The first piece I wrote for public consumption was a blog review of a book that argued that it is “unmovable, historical fact” that most practices of contemporary churches were adopted from pagan culture and at odds with New Testament teaching. Thus “the church in its contemporary, institutional form has neither a biblical nor a historical right to function as it does.”
I was brand new to publishing, had just enough church history education to be dangerous, and was eager for a chance to flex my intellectual muscles. Also, I made one massive assumption: the readers of the blog were pastor types. So, surely, they would be as resistant as I am to the notion that the pastorate is pagan.
Boy, did I misread the room.
THE DANGERS OF ASSUMING
With the confidence that everyone on the internet was sure to agree with me, I wrote a snarky and uncharitable review. The comments started piling up immediately. Readers were divided, but way more of them agreed with the book than I expected, and they called me out for my condescending response.
My point is, I wrote about the book (for a general audience) the way I would have talked about the book with a few close friends who I knew agreed with me. And who knew where I was coming from. And who shared my assumptions about history and ecclesiology and so forth. I made the mistake of assuming that my pastor-type audience and I shared certain presuppositions. I didn’t have a particular reader in mind. I assumed the wrong posture. I misjudged my contribution. I assumed things I shouldn’t have about my reader.
On the bright side, we got a lot of clicks.
HOW NOT TO ALIENATE READERS
Your writing decisions should be based on your interests and goals and your commitment to your reader. Remember, though, that others are reading too. And while you may not be able to please everyone, you can take steps to avoid offending everyone.
If you are accustomed to communicating in an intimate environment where everyone knows you well, such as a church or classroom, the transition to writing for a broader audience can be bumpy.
Here are a few things to keep in mind:
Sarcastic humor may work live (often it doesn’t), but it rarely communicates well in print.
This is a problem for me (as sarcasm is one of my spiritual gifts). I’ve edited pastors who mentioned their spouses in ways that were intended to be funny (i.e., “Obviously, I’m the brains of the relationship” or “Clearly, I’m the good looking one”) but that doesn’t come across right in print.
Jokes about theological positions or denominations or political groups with which you disagree are dangerous.
Even if you’re a theological or denominational insider, you have to be careful making offhand remarks, especially in the current polarized climate of public discourse. If people have to read your bio to know you’re a Baptist, for example, you should avoid taking potshots at Baptists. You should probably always avoid taking potshots at Baptists and everyone else, for that matter.
The point is, there’s a wink-and-nudge way of communicating with insiders that can get you into trouble when your work is in broader circulation. It doesn’t really matter what you meant. What matters is how it sounds. Be gracious to a fault.
What is considered appropriate or acceptable, even among Christians, varies from region to region.
Everything from language (what’s considered profanity) to imagery, metaphors, and tone will connect with some audiences and grate others, based on where they’re from. What is clear and appropriate in your immediate context may not be either when your writing is read elsewhere.
Lack of awareness of our own cultural context is one reason for frequent squabbles on social media. The internet brings people from different regions together in one place and makes it hard to establish context.
Education level, class/status, and other cultural differences can sneak through in illustrations and vocabulary.
If you rely heavily on illustrations about the frustrations of flying first class or the cost of private school tuition, you’re going to lose people. I once heard a pastor tell a long story at a conference about doing his own stunts in a TV show. It was entertaining at first but ultimately a bit alienating for all us “normal people” in the audience who couldn’t relate.
AVOIDING MISSTEPS WITH YOUR ASSUMPTIONS
Remember, part of what you have to do is write for yourself. So I’m not asking you to fake it or make up illustrations that you don’t resonate with just to connect with a reader. But it will be helpful to anticipate who might be put off by your metaphors, illustrations, vocabulary, or style.
Where you can avoid alienating people, try to do so. Where you can’t, you at least won’t be surprised by the pushback or criticism you receive.
One way to avoid missteps with your assumptions is to lay all your cards on the table in your writing. When I’ve written about issues related to race and ethnicity, for example, I’ve tried to clarify that I’m speaking not as a legal expert or a political commentator nor with any expertise in race relations but as a father and white male wrestling with my own baggage.
On the whole, I think those caveats make readers more sympathetic to my reflections.
Tough skin is a topic for another day. But your readers will let you know when you’re not on the same page. Try to take criticism graciously, and you’ll learn to intuit what your readers are bringing to the table.
Excerpted from Writing for Life and Ministry: A Practical Guide to the Writing Process for Teachers and Preachers by Brandon J. O’Brien (© 2020). Published by Moody Publishers. Used by permission.
Brandon J. O'Brien (PhD, Trinity Evangelical Divinity School) is Director of Content Development and Distribution for Redeemer City to City, where he coordinates, edits, and shepherds writing projects with Timothy Keller and urban church planters around the world. Brandon has served in pastoral ministry, worked in publishing, authored a few books, and taught for state and Christian colleges and universities. He and his wife Amy and their two children live in Washington Heights, NY. They enjoy good food, good company, and exploring New York City.