Special edition
The insomniac test
Have you ever struggled with sleep?
It’s the curse of the 21st century. Around 30% of adults in the UK suffer from insomnia, with 10% tearing their hair out over serious daytime consequences.
Blame the internet, blame Brexit, blame global pandemics… whatever’s in the air, it’s killer for those sweet sweet z’s.
In case you’ve never experienced the joys of sleep deprivation, picture this:
You’re in a cage. Faceless figures are poking their fingers through the bars. You shrink away but there’s nowhere to go. You hear noises behind you and you whip round but nothing’s there. You politely ask your brain for help, and all it can do is hurl itself against the cage door like a wet beanbag.
That’s me at the moment.
So today is a special edition of the Email Teardown Club.
I’m not going to do a teardown.
Thing is… I can’t.
For the past month I’ve been surviving on a few hours of sleep a night on average. I’m getting enough sleep to not die, to be able to eat, get dressed, brush my teeth, and write ranty emails about how I’m feeling. But when I have to interpret and respond to something someone else says to me, I can’t connect the dots. When I look at my inbox, the words swim over my eyeballs in upside-down butterfly stroke.
Why am I telling you all this?
Because this is the reality of trying to communicate with a human who isn’t right there in front of you.
My situation is the same sort of situation lots of people find themselves in. People you’re trying to connect with if you write words for a living. They’re tired, sick, sad, distracted.
The challenge? You can’t see that reality in your audience.
It would be nice to think that everyone who’s reading an email or letter or advert we’ve written is on top form, full of beans, giving us their undivided attention.
But they’re not. They’re insomniacs. They’re parents juggling small kids and burnt toast. They’re a commuter with a migraine, watching the third overfilled bus in a row sail past without stopping.
The point is, when you write a piece of communication for a future audience, you’re rarely in the same frame of mind as the one the person will be in when your words come knocking at their door.
(Quite aside from the problem that you probably know more about the subject matter than they do (hello Curse of Knowledge) and as a result have pitched your writing at a level they can’t get their head around at the best of times.)
To have a chance of being heard, your message needs to be so easy to understand that someone who hasn’t slept for three days can grasp what you’re saying.
I’m as guilty as anyone of failing here.
Especially when time is tight. Especially when there priorities to juggle. And especially when I’ve been staring into the jaws of 3am.
The next time you have to write something, ask yourself. Would it pass the insomniac test?
Today I’m officially re-promising to do the same.
(Fellow sleep struggler? I’m not a doctor, but I urge you to Keep Calm and Get Help. These days the NHS recommends CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy) and you can find lots of advice about it online. I’m on the case too 🤞)
Enjoyed this post? Please consider forwarding it on to someone else who’d get a lot out of it ✌
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*Side note* These teardowns are just my gut reactions as a real life customer, mashed together with my copywriter background, to explore what good and bad messaging looks like outside the sender’s ivory tower. I’m only one person, and I might not be representative. Agree or disagree? Tell me in the comments!
Cheerio,
Corissa
P.S. If you need a hand with your messaging strategy, I can help. I also have a few slots of 121 writing coaching up for grabs. Find out more 👉 corissanunn.com
