If you are British royalty or want to make an impression, It's best to use smart, complex words. Conundrums. Exasperation. Acquiesce. Elated and exquisitely eloquent.

But if you aim for readers around the world who speak all sorts of non-native English, simpler words will work better. Non-natives may not know some of your advanced vocabulary, so they will have a problem with your text. And since we want people to understand us, simpler is better:

I'm basically taking the advanced words from Vocabulary.com and translating them into plain English. It's tyring, but you got the idea. Or should i say taxing? Depleting? Debilitating? Fatiguing?

Now, I understand this is the opposite of what your teacher of English taught you. She said, the more advanced your vocabulary, the better your English. And she's right. But think about this: why do you need to speak advanced English, if your reader doesn't understand what you are saying?

Seriously, if you write to help others understand something, why make your text less understandable?

If you don't trust me, trust Busta Rhymes

Sometimes when you write a long emotional piece, and you want to put it all in. You might find yourself chaining several words to make an impact:

The chairwoman was outraged and shocked by what she heard

The chairwoman was bewildered, outraged and shocked by what she heard

The words mean the same, at least in these sentences. If you remove the similars, the sentence will sound stronger:

The chairwoman was shocked by what she heard

But if you really want to highlight the chairwoman's state, it's best to avoid describing her feelings. Better describe what she did. In this next example readers come to a conclusion about the chairwoman's state all by themselves:

When John was done, the chairwoman lit up her microphone to respond. She gasped for breath, but no words came out. Eyes wide open, she gestured as if to find words, but all she could cough out was 'Wh—wh—what?', 'H—h—how?'

You can also use a long series of similar words, but that will look more like a joke:

The chairwoman was shocked, bewildered, outraged, agitated, distressed and perturbed by what she heard

Generally, it's best to avoid pairs of similar words to describe the same thing. One word for one characteristic is usually the best way to go. Unless you know what you are doing and you need these exact two words. But hey, when you know what you are doing, you don't need advice.

I never write when I get a good idea. I only try to write when I find suitable resource to illustrate that idea. With proper resource, writing is fast and persuasive. Without resource, writing is a waste of time.

For about a year, I have had an idea to write an article about emails: what's the best way to start a conversation with someone you don't know. I knew how to explain it. But every time I set to writing that article, I stopped at the first example. It was too hard to create a believable letter to illustrate all of my ideas. I spent hours writing and editing, but never published any of those drafts.

Then one night I got an email from someone I didn't know. The moment I looked at it, I knew it was badly structured, without even reading. It looked like this:

Wow, I thought. I don't need to read it to see it's bad. How did I just learn that? Clearly, it looked messy and long. You don't write such things to people you don't know. Gotcha.

This letter illustrated what I had wanted to say for a long time. In 15 minutes I made a simple image to illustrate the principle:

I wrote two lines of text, threw in that image, and got myself a perfect article: it was short, clear and persuasive. The whole thing took 20 minutes to write.

My previous drafts had a good idea behind them, but no resource. There was no good example, no good illustration of my idea. Creating that illustration took time, and I never liked the result. Then suddenly a good example just kind of... floated by. So I grabbed it, and used it, and it was great.

Then I realized: I've been doing this for a long time:

As I edit articles at work, I collect elegant 'before — after' bits and use them in my editing courses.

I collect curious bits of text and layouts for my future projects and books.

People send me their ads for review. I use those ads as examples for my articles.

When I have a conflict with a client, it becomes a case study for my negotiations course.

This may seem counterintuitive, because normally you write towards a goal, not based on example. But writing towards a goal puts pressure on you, and to me writing is never better when under pressure.

Writing on resource feels better. Also, it's a hundred times faster.

Tim Urban is great at explaining. Here is a thing I liked in his article about Trump. Look at this bit:

“I hate everyone who voted for Trump—those stupid, racist, xenophobic fucks.”

〈...〉

People vote for hope and change when they’re in pain. When I watched the election last night, I didn’t see a bunch of assholes voting to be hateful, I saw a bunch of people going through a lot of suffering hoping for something better.

Which is why, if you’re a Hillary supporter, in addition to this being a time for disappointment and frustration, it should also be a time for reflection. Half your country voted for Trump. Over 50 million people—people with kids and parents and jobs and dogs and calendars on their wall with piano lessons and doctors appointments and birthday parties written in the squares. Full, three-dimensional people who voted for what they hope will be a better future for themselves and their family.

Tim is saying, people who voted Trump are not the stupid racist xenophobic fucks we think they are. They are just like us. Notice how we come to this conclusion without Tim actually saying ‘They are like us’.

How does he do that?

Relatable details

Look at this bit. Why the detail?

Over 50 million people—people with kids and parents and jobs and dogs and calendars on their wall with piano lessons and doctors appointments and birthday parties written in the squares.

With this detail, Tim makes Trump supporters real and similar to us, readers. But he doesn’t make that conclusion himself—he never says ‘Trump supporters are like us.’ He makes readers come to that conclusion by experiencing life through their eyes.

You experience their lives → you find they have similar experiences → you conclude they are like you → they are no longer the xenophobic fucks you thought they were.

And this is all done with the vivid details that we have all experienced: the piano lessons, the birthdays, the squares in your calendar. We believe this because we can imagine this. Tim persuades us through our own imagination.

Reverse effect

We can also use this effect in reverse. Let’s say Tim was trying to alienate Trump supporters. Then he would go with something like this:

Over 50 million people—people with employees and investors and board meetings and personal assistants and dressage and fundraisers and red carpet events.

The structure is the same. But the details are different: we can imagine them vividly, but we can’t relate to them. And because we can’t relate, the 50 million people are now alien. And it’s easy to hate the alien.

Once again, you won’t even need to say ‘These Trump supporters are different from us.’ Your choice of detail will make readers come to that conclusion all by themselves, driven by their own imagination.

How this works

There’s the tangible and the abstract.

Words like ‘wood’, ‘ground’, ‘stone’, ‘birthday’, ‘coffee’ or ‘glass’ relate to something we know from physical experience. You have seen, touched, smelled or otherwise experienced these words. When I say ‘coffee’, you remember the sense of taste and smell. When I say ‘birthday,’ you remember a perfect birthday, with smells and sounds and everything. There is a ton of sensory information behind these words. These are tangible.

Words like ‘community’, ‘virtue’, ‘pride’, ‘worry’, ‘task’ or ‘unity’ relate to abstract ideas. We don’t have the sensory information for these ideas. We know what ‘virtue’ means, but we can’t imagine it. These are abstract.

Your writing is more persuasive when it is based on the tangible details, rather than abstract concepts. That is only because we can picture the tanglble. And it’s easier to believe something we can picture:

We only believe in things we can picture.
Use tangible details to paint the picture

Here’s some tangible stuff to serve as Facebook teaser:

Check out this clip.

Here’s what Busta Rhymes is saying off screen:

Hip Hop has been significantly important on a global level. I think Hip Hop has also been one of the greatest teachers and sources of information. Whether it’s how to dress, learning each other’s language, learning each other’s way of thinking, learning each other’s... everything, you know. Hip Hop has been able to do that more than any other music.

So far, it’s okay. Now watch what happens to his voice, as he speaks this next bit.

In every culture it has been just as impactful and effective in that dynamic. Internationally and globally so, you know. The edginess and the outspoken•ness of the culture, the competitive spirit, the competitive nature...

And now this:

...the fearlessness. Just that whole shit that makes the thing move in a way that nothing else does. You know anything that’s been more successful at bringing people together at that, let me know.

Notice how in this middle bit, Busta seems to be losing grip. He is trying to sound smart, and global, and international. And this bit sounds dull and artificial, as if a corporate lawyer was holding a gun to his head.

Then he moves to the last part—the one he really feels. Words fly like knives, his voice raises and he delivers the shit out of that last bit. You can feel the power and the contrast.

So, what happens in the middle bit? He tries to sound smart: ‘internationally and globally’, ‘in that dynamic’, ‘competitive nature’—these words are fancy, not simple. And through these fancy words, Busta loses power. He regains power only when he gets back to simple words.

So, the outtake:

It’s best to use the simplest possible words.
Even for Busta Rhymes

Ask a copywriter what’s the most important thing in sales. He’ll say it’s copy—the text you put in advertising. Copy sells, good copy sells more, and there is no business without a good copywriter.

Ask a designer, and he’ll say design is most important. If your renderings suck, photographs are fake, and typography is poor, customers will not emotionally connect with your product.

Managers say shipping on time is most important. Developers put software first. Engineers vote for hardware. Growth hackers say traffic is key. Disruption evangelists preach disruption, whatever that is.

In reality, these are all important, and nothing is most important. It's a mistake to think that text alone sells. Everything sells.

Look at this screenshot from Apple

The body copy is bad: it’s unclear to the point of making no sense. It tells nothing about the product. It doesn’t appeal to emotions. It literally needs translation from bullshit into English. Don Draper would fire the copywriter who wrote this, and if she were a pretty young girl, he wouldn’t even sleep with her.

And yet, iPhone 6S accounts for 48% of all U.S. iPhone sales during Apple’s fiscal first quarter.

So, if the product sells, the copy is good? No, this copy is still shit. But it doesn’t matter. People don’t buy iPhones for the copy, they buy it for many other reasons:

It’s a good product

It’s been a good product for the last five years

It looks good

The glass curves sexily at the edges

It’s a good gift for your kids, parents, wives, and girlfriends

Everyone you know has one

It plays well with other stuff you have: watches, speakers, laptops and chargers

The assistant at the Apple store is cute

You don’t get laid unless you present your partner with an iPhone (valid for some Eastern cultures)

It costs billions to create a world with so many reasons to buy an iPhone. And in that world, copy doesn’t matter that much. Apple would still ship as many iPhones, had it written something completely different, or nothing at all:

So what, copy is not important? Sure, copy is important. It's just not the only important thing. Design, interface, websites and apps, shop assistants and PR, growth hacking and digital disruption—all play part. How you present your products is important. How you clean your restrooms is important.

The opposite is also true: good copy doesn’t guarantee sales. Great design doesn’t either. You have to try hard in every direction to make it all work, and for a long time. Apple has gone a long way to create a world where their body copy doesn’t matter. Others still have to try hard in writing good copy.

Many Russians have an unhealthy obsession with words. We are a very text-centric, and a very mystical culture. I have seen multimillion-dollar-business-owners personally struggle over words in their ads. Many people believe in the mysterious power of copywriting, as if there was a magic word for guaranteed sales. But there isn’t. No matter what you believe, it’s not all about text.

It doesn’t hurt to have great copy, but it’s not that important. You still have to work hard on everything else

Open a book on writing in English. Literally, do it. Page one will say: 'Avoid passive voice'. If it's not on page one, keep flipping the pages until you find it. It's there. It's always there.

Everyone will tell you passive voice makes your writing weak. Passive voice drains the energy from your writing and makes it less readable. Avoiding passive voice is good advice. But let's look deeper.

What is passive voice

Active voice is when someone does something upon something else. I wrote a book. Natasha brought beer. Frank met a journalist.

Passive is the same in reverse: something is done upon something else. The book was written. Beer was brought. A journalist was murdered.

Usually passive voice avoids the subject—the one that performs the action. Subject can still come visit, although it feels awkward:

Why passive voice is bad for your text

Everyone says passive voice makes your sentences less energetic and clear, adds clutter, makes the text less readable. And that's all true, just look at these examples:

In most cases, avoiding passive voice is good. Except when it's not.

Sometimes you need passive voice

Passive voice is not all evil. You will need it at least in two cases: when you don't know who the subject is, or that subject is not important.

Let's say, something bad happened in Washington:

A journalist was pushed under a moving train.

That's passive voice. We have to use it when we don't know who pushed the poor girl. When there is no subject, passive voice is fine.

Let's say this in active voice:

Someone pushed a journalist under a moving train.

Active voice was supposed to add energy, but it didn't. Instead, in shifted focus.

This 'Someone' subject adds one extra idea to the sentence. What used to be a sentence about a journalist is now a sentence about two people: a 'Someone' and a journalist. Extra ideas make the sentence less focused. Extra idea adds clutter. And we want to avoid clutter.

So we turned passive voice into active and the sentence got cluttered. Means we were wrong. We needed passive voice here.

When you transform passive into active voice, you will have to add a subject — someone who performs the action. This new subject will always shift focus. Because it's the subject, it's a big deal. If you need that subject in your sentence—fine, use it. But if it's there because Strunk & White told you to avoid passive voice—think twice. Your active voice may be killing clarity.

When subject is irrelevant, passive voice may work just fine

Sometimes you can simply use a different verb and avoid the active—passive problem altogether:

The only way to get good at writing is to write. Write a lot. And then write some more. And then get back to what you've written and rewrite it. Seriously, that's the only way. Ask anyone who's good—he'll probably never answer because he'll be busy writing.

The reason many people fail at getting good—they don't do the writing. The reason for that—their fear of making mistakes.

The Russians I know will take pride in pointing out my mistakes. This is their way of saying they are better than me: more intelligent, better-educated, with more experience. Last article I wrote—oh, had I not gotten my ass handed to me! All those people, salivating with joy, writing up screens and screens of how I went wrong in English, how I don't belong and should stay down, bury myself in Siberian snow and never write again. It pains, but it's good pain.

Here's the deal.

The more you write, the better you get. When you write a lot, you will make mistakes. Your readers will point them out and you will correct your writing. You will get good. You will get better.

So whenever you feel like writing about something that matters, just get your ass to the keyboard and do it. Write it up until you are loving what you see. Make those mistakes. Get shit from your readers. Own that shit. Then clean that shit out and move on.

Here are some tricks that help me cope with my fear of mistakes:

Admit to myself that I make mistakes. Nobody's perfect, unless you have a degree in Linguistics from an Ivy League college, in which case you're wasting your time reading this.

Make sure this is the best I can do. Before I publish, I spend the time to read, re-read and re-write, until I am confident: this is the shit. I can't do it any better.

Thank everyone for input once I get the criticism. People give feedback to feel good, so there is no reason to not let them.

Correct what truly matters, ignore the rest. Some people will spend time arguing about dashes and commas—fuck it. I'm here to get good and help others get even better, not to prove I'm right. Especially not about the dashes and the commas.

And then write some more.

Get shit. Own the shit. Correct the shit. Then write some more

Hi! My name is Max. I am an editor in Russia. I help businesses talk to their customers.

I created a school of simple, clear and persuasive writing in Russian. For the last seven years, I developed it for Russian editors. I've written three hundred articles, launched a proofing service, a school and a book. Next stop—help my fellow editors write simple, clear and persuasive text for readers outside Russia.

Born in Russia in 1988, to a family of construction engineers. PhD in Linguistics and Teaching English as a Foreign Language. As a native Russian, this is the smiliest he gets

The method: simple

My editing method is based on three ideas: simplicity, clarity and persuasion.

Simplicity means using the simplest words and simplest syntax possible. If you need to say 'talk to your customers', I'll always recommend using 'talk', not 'communicate', 'transmit', 'divulge' or 'enlighten'.

It's harder to miss when you use simple words. Especially when you or your reader don't speak English natively. Between sounding smart and speaking simply, I always recommend simple:

Between sounding smart and sounding simple, always go with simple

The method: clear

Clarity means making ideas easy to understand. To achieve clarity, you will usually need to do three things: remove unnecessary ideas, get right to the point, and use structural elements: paragraphs, sections and headings. I'll talk more about clarity in future articles.

Remove clutter, put important stuff first, add headings and quotes. Like this one

The method: persuasive

Persuasion means making sure readers agree with you, or at least consider your ideas. I persuade with stories, examples, illustrations, and other kinds of proof. You will notice that every idea in this article is supported by examples.

Persuasive text avoids abstract ideas. It needs to be grounded in reality and offer relatable examples.

Use examples and proof to persuade

This is non-fiction, for non-native speakers

My method is only designed for non-fiction: what you write for business, advertising, websites, apps and interface. To some extent—for journalism, blogging and generally writing for the web.

My method applies to people who are not native speakers: say, a Russian editor writing up a press release for Europe, or a Ukrainian designer building apps for clients in America. (See what I did there? Examples!)

As a native Russian, I realize I can never truly understand English, no matter how many episodes of Sherlock I watch. So I am not looking to teach English to English natives. But I sure hope some of my advice comes in handy.

What now

More articles on clarity, simplicity and persuasion coming up.

Follow @deathbypassive to stay updated