Don't save the best for last

When you're ready to edit, look at your conclusion first.

HACK RECAP: Last week, I shared my top ten list of words that rarely add value to a sentence: actually, basically, completely, essentially, generally, kind of, practically, really, totally, and virtually. If you have thoughts about any of these words—or any other totally needless word—please share in the comments.

Welcome new subscribers! If you’re just joining us, you can find recent posts in the archives, including this one about what readers don’t need to hear and this one about unnecessary repetition.

THIS WEEK’S HACK: When it’s time to edit, start by checking your conclusion for a clearer version of your main point.

Last week, a friend asked me to help him with a cover letter for a job application. My friend is very talented, and I think the company should definitely hire him. But I’m not the one doing the hiring, so I tried to read the letter from the point of view of someone who doesn’t know my friend and wants to know why he is the right candidate for the job. The cover letter was organized like a museum tour of my friend’s accomplishments. (Think: I started my career here, and then I did this, and then I did that.) It wasn’t until the final paragraph that he explained—quite convincingly—why he would be a good fit for this job.

I suggested that he move that great paragraph to the beginning of the letter.

I’ve worked with hundreds of writers over the years, and I make this same suggestion all the time. The clearest ideas, the most interesting insights, and the most elegantly worded arguments often come at the end of a piece of writing when they should come at the beginning.

It makes sense that our clearest ideas often come at the end of a first draft. If you’re writing to convince someone of something, you’re probably going to develop your arguments as you write. But your readers don’t need to watch you figure out your best arguments—they just need to read the arguments.

When he was drafting his cover letter, my friend probably started by listing all of his relevant skills and past experiences. After writing it all down, he probably began to see how those details fit together to make him a good candidate for the job. That’s his main point. By moving his last paragraph to the beginning, he transformed his letter from a snapshot of his career to a clearly framed argument for why he’s a great candidate for this job.

Although I’ve used the example of my friend’s job cover letter here, the strategy is worth trying on any piece of writing: If you’re writing something that should have a clear main point or message, and that point or message isn’t coming through at the beginning, check your conclusion.

Are there times when you do want to save that main point for the end?

Of course. If you’re telling a story that has a punch line, you’ll want to save the best for last. If I told you about the time I lost my sunglasses, I might begin by describing every step I retraced in my epic search for them—from parking lot to supermarket to library. Only after taking you through each of those steps would I tell you that my sunglasses were actually on my head the whole time. In that case, I would have a reason for saving the big reveal for the end.

Sometimes you want to build suspense in a piece of writing. And some of the most powerful essays I’ve read take readers on a journey without telling them the destination until they arrive. But when you’re writing for a work audience, you’re usually going to want to lead with your main point. If you’re writing to announce a decision, you may want us to know why you made that decision, but you’re still going to start by telling us the decision (the main point) before you review how you got there.

Whether or not you move a main idea from the end to the beginning, you’ll still want to write a powerful conclusion. But your conclusion should be where you want to leave us, not where you ended up after writing a first draft.

These often-quoted words, from John F. Kennedy’s inaugural address, came just before the end of the speech: “Ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for your country.” Those words wouldn’t have made sense at the beginning of that speech. If you write a great conclusion that belongs at the end, leave it alone! But if you find that your last ideas are actually your main ideas, don’t make your readers wait until the end to understand what you’re telling them.

Now that I’ve reached my own last paragraph, I have a confession to make: In the first draft of this week’s post, everything you have just read was part of the last point of a three-point post. But it wasn’t working. There was too much going on, and the post wasn’t focused. After I stared at it for a few minutes (okay, a few hours!), I realized that I had written myself towards a different post. So I moved that last point to the beginning, and here we are. I’ll share the other points from that original draft in future Hacks.