You’re at a concert of your favorite band, Abba. They come onstage and spend 5 minutes apologizing for not putting out an album in the last 20 years. They shrug and moan a bit, announcing that they may be a bit rusty, and that they hope you don’t mind.
Finally, they get into what you came for, swinging into a hot new version of ‘Dancing Queen’ that has you and your friend grooving like you’re sixteen. The concert goes on, dancing and merriment is had by all, and the awkward bit at the beginning is almost forgotten.
Almost.
Disclaimers leave a slight smudge on the space. The energy subtly wanes and your passion for the artist turns toward pity.
Don’t do it. Don’t disclaim.
Do you disclaim?
When I lead writing workshops, this is one rule that I am absolutely adamant about: make no disclaimers about your work.
Everyone nods and agrees, but when it comes time to read the writing aloud, a range of these thoughts desperately want out of your mouth:
- “I don’t even know what I wrote here, it’s just a bunch of…”
- “I did this at the last minute, so I know it needs revising…”
- “This is a story where a monkey goes to Mexico. I wrote it because once, when I was in Mexico, a monkey showed up on our porch and…”
You think you’re doing the right thing, being transparent, being true to your word. But really it’s nervous babble that does nothing but erode your credibility and confidence.
We often think we need to explain – where the idea came from, why we’re late posting, etc. Add this to the disclaimer and you have an even worse writers’ bane: the disclaimplanation.
Why we disclaim
The disclaimplanation (disclaimer + explanation) seems like a good idea. But this apologetic explanation is really a way for the author to show:
- You’re nervous about how readers will respond to the piece.
- You’re afraid readers will think less of you because you haven’t been posting regularly on your blog.
- You figure if you acknowledges that you’re rusty, or the writing isn’t so great, that you’ll earn sympathy if not respect for your work.
What do disclaimplanations do? They diminish the power of your work. They make your audience uncomfortable, generating the kind of pity you don’t really want from them.
Ditch the disclaimplanations
Take your creative work to the next level by ditching the disclaimplanation. Remember these guidelines:
- Don’t ever announce that your work is less than.
- Don’t tell the story about how you wrote the poem or story, or tell a verbal version of the story and then read it.
- Don’t apologize and explain about your writing absence unless it’s a really good story and draws the reader forward.
I know how hard it is to refrain from the disclaimplanation. I have to consciously stifle my impulse to fill the space with verbal bows and curtsies so soften the path to the real writing.
For your written work, feel free to write the disclaimplanation if it helps you get it out of your system.
For your verbal presentations of your work, plan your opening. It should be simple and brief – preferably just the title of your piece. To battle nervousness, take a deep breath.
Join me in the crusade against the disclaimplantion. In a comment below, tell me your strategies for avoiding this bane of the writing life.
“Never retract, never explain, never apologize – get the thing done and let them howl!”
Credit: Nellie McClung, 1915
Agree. No alibis. No pleas for mercy.
How is telling the story behind the story a “disclaimplantion?” Sometimes that story is pretty darned fascinating. Just not clear on what you mean there.
Renee,
I think the story behind the story, if interesting enough, is its own story. Or part of the main story.
Writers will often write a long explanation before they get to the actual story. Often we need to cut that first part because it’s not essential to the story.
If you are reading your work aloud or performing, and spend more than a minute or a short paragraph explaining the story, your audience will quickly grow bored and you will lose them before you even start with the good stuff.
In these cases, I’d say it’s more of an explanation than a disclaimer. Sometimes writers or performers feel the need to explain but it’s mostly out of nervousness, not because what they’re saying is essential to the story.
If you’re doing an explanation live, make sure it’s really good. On paper, make sure it pulls the reader into the story. Or keep it very brief.
HA! I didn’t even realize I was doing this, until you mentioned it here. I’m an artistic explainer! I’m so excited about my work. I want everyone to know all about it. Now that this has been brought to my attention…I’ll make a conscious effort to take a deep breath before answering. My answers will be more concise and I’ll practice my answers before I head into my next art show. Phew!!! Thanks for pointing this out!
Hey sorry I didn’t get around to reading this earlier…I was…OH right! I’m missing the whole point…yes, we want pure professionalism too…we want to to know that people stand behind what they do and have devoted the time needed to be good at what they do and know they deliver something important. We have this schism, we so often don’t want to be held accountable for how hard it is to do things…but we want to be in the frame of mind of being helpful, but what people want is to discover something from an expert who values what they do too. You don’t have to be self-aggrandizing to do that, just into it!
Heather,
I’m so glad that this resonated with you and gives you a way to practice the art of brevity. Make sure your enthusiasm matches your audience’s attention span and it’s a perfect equation.
Joseph, no self-aggrandizing necessary!
I wrote this because it’s painful to me to hear these disclaimplanations, because I needed to remind myself about it, and because I believe that people’s time is so precious that I endeavor less to be an expert than to not waste people’s time. That seems the big crime these days. It bothers me, at least, when someone wastes my time.
As a reader of many writing blogs–many many writing blogs–I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU MEAN.
In fact, about 90% of blog posts are just a bunch of disclaimers and explanations. PLEASE PLEASE STOP IT. It gets old, and even your biggest fans will get sick and tired of it and move on. I have left many a blogger I loved because most of the time they offered disclaimers and explanations.
Stop it, stop it now. Listen to Cynthia please. She knows what she’s talking about.
Thank you Cynthia.
I love you, Ollin. I thought you’d like this post but I didn’t know how much!
Listen to Cynthia – she strives really, really hard to not waste your time! 😉
LOL ~ Point taken!
Excellent post, Cynthia.
I had long since decided to stop starting lettters this way (Sorry I haven’t written for so long….) but I hadn’t thought to apply it to sharing writing with the public. Thanks! My students will be hearing this lesson too!
Glad you like it, Katherine! Help me help others not do the awkward disclaimplanation!
This is so good I passed it onto my artistic animator friends. SO MANY TIMES someone opens with “It isn’t finished yet… and the texture looks bad…” And it always bothers me in an in-the-back-of-my-head sort of way. And this is why! Now it will bother me in a front-of-my-head way – and I’ll probably speak up. Good stuff right here. Goooood stuff.