If your goal is to make your writing and speech as bland and boring as the next person’s, then slip “going forward” into as many sentences as you can. This will be an eye-opener to many people, because they do not realize they do it. Once new words and phrases have become common in public discourse, they begin to seep into our writing automatically because when we are accustomed to hearing them, those words quickly roll off our fingertips when we sit down to the keyboard. If you are wondering how to avoid writing with too many words, one way is to trim words that do not contribute to the main thought of the sentence.

In the sentence, “This will help us in our strategy going forward,” you could put a period after “strategy,” and you would notice that the thought is complete. The sentence refers to the future, which is conveyed in the future-tense verb “will help.” What does “going forward” add? If you look or listen closely to sentences containing “going forward,” virtually all of them will contain a future tense verb. “Going forward” is redundant.

Consider the sentence, “The major issue we face going forward is new-product development.” Simply saying, “The major issue we face is new-product development” is sufficient. But if you want to make a specific reference to the future, try, “The major issue we will face in the months ahead will be new-product development.” Instead of “in the months ahead,” you also could use “in the future,” “looking ahead,” or some similar phrase, all of which have served the purpose for a few hundred years.

Don’t be quick to grab on to every new word or phrase that comes along. Have the discipline to remove trendy words when you edit, and your writing will sound more original.

For whatever reason, some people have the strange notion that semicolons are for “show-offs,” that they reflect an arrogance. Where that comes from, I don’t know. Just because some people know how to use it and some don’t should not be held against the users.

Semicolons help to bridge ideas without using a conjunction. “I am glad she was hired; she was the best candidate,” shows the close relationship between the ideas on both sides of the semicolon, and it saves using the word “because.” The rhythm of the sentence is more snappy.

“We need to work on it tomorrow; we can’t waste any more time” is another example. You should resist the urge to break it into separate sentences because that will create choppy text Too often, people get carried away with the “short, declarative sentence” mantra, and they end up writing prose that sounds more like a children’s Dick and Jane book. children.

A series of consecutive short sentences also will make the reader work. She can tell that the information in some of the sentences is part of the same thought and should be in one sentence, so she naturally goes backwards and makes the connection that should have been conveyed with a semicolon.

Just remember that semicolons almost always divide independent clauses (complete thoughts).

We use hyphens in a few instances, but mostly common, you should use them to join two or three words that are serving as one modifier, describing an adjacent noun, as in “cost-saving tips” and “next-to-last meeting.” There is room for discretion; if you see no risk of confusion, you can omit it. For example, some people will hyphenate business-writing course, but many people will not, and in that case, you can get by without it. Sometimes, as readers of English, we are accustomed to seeing certain words adjacent to each other (such as business writing), so the lack of a hyphen would not impede the reader’s forward motion.

Readers can be confused on other occasions, however. On the surface, the sentence “He is our new media strategist” means that you have a media strategist who is new to the company. But the writer’s intended meaning was that the strategist had expertise in the field of new media, so it should be written that “He is our new-media strategist.” When you do not put in hyphens, each word modifies the noun individually, so the meaning is that he is a media strategist and he is a new strategist.

Similarly, without hyphens, the phrase “toxic gas detector” refers to a gas detector that is toxic, which obviously is not the intended meaning. It is a detector that identifies toxic gas.

Caution: Don’t get hyphen happy. If you over-hyphenate, it creates boring reading. Use judgment. Use them often, but there are occasions when they are not necessary and in come cases would look awkward if you put them in.

One final note: We do not hyphenate words ending in “ly” because no confusion ever seems to result from the word combination in such phrases as “freshly prepared food” or “carefully written proposal.”

People rarely spend much time on a given page, unless they have a particular reason to dig deeply or unless they know they are on the one page that has the information they need. Other than that, people are moving quickly; they are on a mission in search of an answer.

But too often, writers balk at simplifying their writing, as if they feel insulted. But simplifying doesn’t mean being simplistic. You are not writing a Dick and Jane book for toddlers.

So remove words that don’t contribute, and use words from everyday conversation whenever possible.
Flab interferes with simplicity, because extra words create needless complexity. Don’t say, “Is there anyone who can handle the uploading of the articles?” if all you need is, “Can anyone upload the articles?”
You can trim seven words from “We would like to take this opportunity to thank you for your participation …” by starting the sentence, “Thank you for your participation …” What do the other words add?

Conversational words are better because they tend to be simpler and shorter. Don’t use “ameliorate” if you can say “improve,” and don’t choose “commence” when “start” works just as well.

Simpler language helps to ensure that you meet the needs of different audiences: people with different literacy levels, people from diverse cultures, and people with physical or cognitive impairments.

Choosing the right pronoun prompts many people to hesitate, but the answer is easier than you might think. Simply ask yourself what role the pronoun is playing in the sentence. Is it a subject or an object? It can only be one or the other. In the sentence, “Him and I are going to the conference,” you might wonder if “him” is the correct form. It is functioning as a subject of the verb “are,” so it must appear in the subjective form, which is “he.” “Him” is always the objective form.

If you write, “He will explain the proposal to she and I,” ask how the pronouns are functioning in the sentence. They are objects of the preposition “to,” so they must appear in their objective forms, (her and me).

Sometimes you can follow your ear, but that is not always a fail-safe method because what you are accustomed to hearing is not always appropriate.

Like most grammatical guidelines, the proper form of prounouns is not a complex concept. Study it a little, be willing to look it up if you have questions, and you will soon commit it to memory.

It is true that you often can avoid “that.” A sentence such as “The folder that you need is on my desk” could be written “The folder you need is on my desk” with no impact on clarity. Similarly, instead of saying, “Our office is in a tall building that is made of brick,” most people would say, “Our office is in the tall, brick building.” Reducing the clause “that is made of brick” to the adjective “brick” saves words.

But sometimes, omitting “that” can create confusion, so be careful; use judgment when removing it. Consider the sentence, “The CEO announced the new policy would take effect Friday.” The first half of the sentence appears to be saying that the CEO announced the new policy, and the words “would take effect Friday” seem to awkwardly hang on the end. The problem is that the writer omitted the word “that” and should have left it in for clarity. “The CEO announced that the new policy would take effect next month” is a clear and flawless sentence.

In “The CEO announced the new policy would take effect next month,” it appears that “policy” is the direct object of announced. The sentence makes sense because “The CEO announced the new policy” is a grammatically complete thought and it is logical: CEOs often announce new policies. But that’s not what happened here. What the CEO actually announced was “that the new policy would take effect Friday.” The true object of announced is not the word “policy,” but the clause “that the new policy would take effect Friday.”

Executives or managers often insist on writing something a particular way because, they say, “That’s my style.” Perhaps. But while novelists and poets have distinctive styles, many people in business do not really know what style is. Instead, their concept of “style” is a desire to use buzzwords, cliches, and three times as many words as necessary to convey a point. Say what you want, but if the writing style interferes with the reader’s understanding, it’s not good style, at least not in business.

We are not writing for entertainment in the workplace. We are not writing literature or poetry, in which case we accept and even enjoy ambiguity and symbolism. Nor should we be withholding the key point; that’s why we have mystery novels. In business, we are communicating information that people need to do their jobs. They want to read it, deal with it, and delete it.

Give yourself some freedom. Be articulate, use varied sentence structures to create graceful prose, and choose precise words even if they are a bit out of the ordinary. But write in a way that is crisp and clear. That’s what will impress readers.

“Tell stories,” is a popular mantra in corporations these days, but what many people refer to as a story often is not. A person making observations, giving an opinion, or recounting a series of facts is not a story.

The narration doesn’t need to have a series of complicated plot twists to be a story, but it does need certain elements. A story is a sequence of actions or events, and it has a central character, which might be the company. At the heart of the story is a conflict, a challenge, that the character overcame or needs to. This narrative has a point, and it’s “going somewhere”; that is, it’s moving toward an ending point. In the context of executive storytelling, it also has to have a direct link to the message he or she is trying to get across.

Sometimes, employees will see a video of colleagues talking about how they have enjoyed working at the company, and those examples can be useful. But most of the time, that’s not an example of “employees telling their story,” because there is no story involved. A person relating her experience as an employee at the company would be a story if she told about something that had happened to her and she learned from the experience. Otherwise, it’s an anecdote, and viewers often are skeptical of such “happy talk,” and dismiss them as promotional statements that seem rehearsed.

A great column in Copyblogger by Matt Cheuvront (http://www.copyblogger.com/inspired-writing) suggests that writers surround themselves with mentors. It’s a terrific idea. I learned the most about writing during my journalism career by reaching out to others and asking them to criticize my work. We don’t do that often enough. Because we have been writing since we were children, we are not comfortable accepting the fact that maybe we are not as good as we should be. We hesitate to go to a colleague and ask a question, because we refuse to make ourselves vulnerable by revealing that we don’t know something. When it comes to writing, people prefer to delude themselves and think that they already know it all.

If you have a thin skin, you are in the wrong business. The way we grow and develop as writers is to open ourselves to constructive criticism. During my journalism career, I took copious notes when I discussed my stories with editors on the phone, and I occasionally recorded conversations with my mentor. And I saved stories with editing notes in the margins so I could go back and look at them later. But you need to reach out for those mentors; they don’t advertise and they won’t come to you.

As is the case with many things in life, we are surrounded by people who might know more about a topic than we do. Perhaps the person has a stronger writing background, maybe he or she has taken numerous business communication courses, or maybe the person grew up in a household with two English teachers and absorbed a lot of knowledge about writing. Whatever the reason, finding a fresh pair of eyes to look at our work can can be, well, eye opening for all of us.

Aristotle laid down the core elements of a persuasion message when he said that for anyone to be persuasive, the person must be credible, must have a strong argument, and must be able to tap the emotions of an audience.

If you don’t have credibility, Aristotle said, everything else is a waste of time. The audience must perceive you as being believable and legitimate, whether your message is written or spoken, and your credibility suffers when people see or hear grammatical errors. The reader or listener does not need to know exactly what the mistake is; the person simply needs to know intuitively “that isn’t right” and her perception of you might be tainted. Learning six important principles of grammar will improve your writing significantly, and it is not as difficult as many people think.

The element of conciseness is important to presenting a strong argument. People too often dilute their argument by making it too wordy or by including too much information (covering too many ideas). Stay focused on your main point; don’t pull in marginally relevant details, which will only obscure the thrust of your argument. And be a sharp editor, removing words and phrases that do not contribute to the main thought. For example, in the second sentence of this paragraph, my original beginning said, “A common mistake that people make is that they dilute their argument … ” By changing it to “People too often dilute their argument … ” I saved six words.