Growing pains as a UX writer
The re-education of a writer with a flair for the grandiose.
Prior to joining the UX Localization team at LINE as a UX writer, I abided by a few cardinal rules when it came to writing. Omitting the Oxford comma basically renders the entire sentence nonsensical, abbreviations and slang represent the gradual desecration of the English language, the more adjectives the merrier (a personal favorite), and so forth: the list never ends.
When I learned of a position that would allow me to live out my nerdy linguistic dreams, my head imploded. A basic understanding of how language works? Check. Enjoys writing and excruciating over word choice? Double check. Identifies as a tech-savvy millennial? Count me in.
Yet over the past few months as I’ve toiled over button labels and pop-up message titles, I’ve found myself having to reshuffle certain long-held ideas on writing I once considered infallible. While I’m still on my journey of relearning and rewiring, here are 3 valuable lessons from my time at LINE that I’ve added to my ever-expanding personal handbook.
Prioritize readability
Once upon a time, the temptation to write the following paragraph as such would’ve been too great to resist.
It’s simple enough in principle, but much harder to execute successfully. As a self-professed writer, I find myself having to quell the pangs of writerly conceit and abate my roving instinct to reach for that one word that sounds most impressive. Why settle for prosaic language when rifling through a thesaurus can inspire an abundance of superior alternatives? To go from a flowery disposition to one of attempted minimalism has been a hard lesson to espouse, but writing for a product used by millions of people from all walks of life is a markedly different endeavor from other kinds of writing.
For a section that emphasizes the importance of readability, there seems to be far too many words in the excerpt above. Let’s ramp down the verbosity.
Writing for readability sounds simple in theory, but much harder in practice. After all, writers tend to use words to impress in their writing. But as the writer of a product used by people of diverse backgrounds, I’ve begun making the shift from flowery language to a more concise style.
Much better! UX writing is first and foremost about providing clarity in everyday experiences. It’s about using words in a decisive manner to guide someone through a product or process in a painless and enjoyable manner. In a way, the copy itself shouldn’t stand out on its own, but rather meld with other interface elements for a seamless interaction. To achieve that, the words you use should be chosen in a way that best convey your message. Moral of the story: when your heart says to opt for highbrow vocabulary, take the simple and concise route.
Write with empathy in mind
It’s an age-old adage: words matter. We’re taught to deliberate on our choice of words from a very young age because they have the singular capacity to not only empower and galvanize, but also to undermine and demoralize. When you’re writing for a series of products that service over 194 million people worldwide in 19 languages (you heard that right; insert praise hands emoji), it’s safe to say you’re pretty much writing for everyone and anyone.
Discovering accessibility in design has further broadened my eyes to the experiences of people unlike myself. When I talk about empathy in writing, I’m referring to creating content that can be accessed by everyone regardless of ability, background, or context. As writers, it’s our job to write and be understood by a wide range of people regardless of their technical backgrounds or general familiarity around apps. At the end of the day, your words are there to meet the user’s needs, not the other way around.
Learn to let go
Oftentimes, the challenge lies not in what to include in your writing, but what to revise, edit, or remove altogether. Picture this scene: you’ve been working day in and day out on strings that will appear on a certain screen of your product. The sentences look good and communicate exactly what the user needs to know to navigate their way around this part of the flow. You pitch it to the other stakeholders of the project — product managers, designers, developers, even your team lead — and wait in anticipation of everyone’s glowing remarks, because who in their right mind would read your work and regard it with anything less than stunned praise over how beautiful each string fits within the general framework. And then, the dreaded response: variations of “We don’t think this is going to work,” “ How about X, Y, or Z?”, or even just a succinct “No.”
Faced with the above situation, the old me would’ve presented a meticulous rebuttal as to why every single component of the copy is essential to the user experience. The more wizened me has learned that sometimes, circumstances may make it impossible for you to always have the final say because projects are a collaborative effort, and it’s okay as long as the revised copy doesn’t interfere with someone’s use of your platform.
I’ve learned that the ability to let go also goes a long way with individual writing projects. There will be times when the perfect word lodged in the back of your brain eludes you before the project is due (and come roaring back with a vengeance at 4 am). When that happens, be kind to yourself and don’t let your obstinate quest for perfection prevent you from actually completing the project.
Becoming a UX writer has been a series of learning curves, with some instances resembling a near-constant state of free fall. As with all new experiences, though, my time at LINE has helped me grow as a writer. It’s forced me to take a closer step to understanding how and even why I write. It’s helped me view the world at large through a more empathetic lens, and take greater interest in the shared human experience. Who would’ve thought a year of writing menu titles and release notes would be a catalyst for such change?
