What Parents Can Learn from On Writing Well
Dan sat with his teenage son's college essay draft, red pen in hand, and felt his own bad habits staring back at him. The essay opened with "Throughout the trajectory of my formative experiences, I have consistently endeavored to actualize my potential," a sentence his son had clearly worked hard on, reaching for words that sounded like what a serious essay should sound like. Dan almost praised the vocabulary before he stopped himself and asked the only question that mattered: what actually happened to you? His son shrugged and told him, in three plain sentences, about failing a robotics competition and rebuilding the circuit board alone at midnight. That story was the essay. Dan realized he'd have made the same trade himself a decade ago in his own emails home — dressing up something small and true in language built to sound important, and losing the true part in the process.
The whole book, compressed
This edition works through 4 core lessons — take them one at a time, not all at once.
What's different for your conditions
Tap whichever ones sound like you. Nothing here is sent or saved — it's just for your own noticing.
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The core lessons, applied to you
Clutter is the enemy in the notes you send to school
A parent writes a note to a teacher padded with hedges like "I just wanted to reach out and touch base regarding a potential concern that may or may not be worth mentioning." The teacher reads three sentences before finding out there's an actual issue, and by then the tone has read as more anxious than the parent intended. Practice: State the concern in the first sentence, plainly: what happened, when, and what you're asking for. Add context after, not before. A shorter, direct note gets answered faster and reads as more confident, not less caring.
State the concern in the first sentence, plainly: what happened, when, and what you're asking for. Add context after, not before. A shorter, direct note gets answered faster and reads as more confident, not less caring.
Clarity of writing requires clarity of thought about what you actually want to say
A parent helps a child write a thank-you note and lets vague phrases like "it means so much" stand in because the child hasn't actually named what the gift or gesture was for. The note reads as generic, and the relative can't tell if it was even opened. Practice: Before writing, ask the child one specific question — what did you do with it, or what did you feel in that exact moment — and build the note around that one true detail instead of a general expression of gratitude.
Before writing, ask the child one specific question — what did you do with it, or what did you feel in that exact moment — and build the note around that one true detail instead of a general expression of gratitude.
Revise ruthlessly on the writing you help a child produce
A parent reads a child's essay draft once, fixes a comma, and hands it back, mistaking light proofreading for real revision. The essay's actual problem — three competing ideas in one paragraph — goes untouched because addressing it would mean asking the child to cut sentences they worked hard on. Practice: Read the draft once for content only, with no pen in hand, and ask the child to explain out loud what they're really trying to say. Then help them cut everything in the paragraph that isn't that one thing, even sentences they're attached to.
Read the draft once for content only, with no pen in hand, and ask the child to explain out loud what they're really trying to say. Then help them cut everything in the paragraph that isn't that one thing, even sentences they're attached to.
Personality survives simplicity in family writing
A child's college essay or a parent's note home is more memorable, not less, once the impressive-sounding language is gone, because what's left is the actual specific story or feeling underneath. A reader can tell the difference between a sentence built to sound good and one written because something true needed saying. Helping a child find that plainer sentence is one of the more lasting things a parent can model on the page.
Encouraging a child's confidence and pushing them to cut their own sentences can feel like opposite instincts, especially when the writing is emotionally loaded, like a personal essay. The way through is to separate praise for the underlying idea from edits to the language carrying it — a child can hear "that story is strong" and "let's cut this paragraph" as two different, both-true messages.
Name one thing, honestly
Think of a recent note or message you sent on behalf of your family — what would it have looked like if you'd written only what you actually meant, and nothing else?
Good. Now look back at the "Try this" line under whichever lesson feels most connected to what you just wrote, and treat that as this week's actual assignment — not all 4 at once.
The practices from this edition
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Run this for seven days
Read the draft once for content only, with no pen in hand, and ask the child to explain out loud what they're really trying to say. Then help them cut everything in the paragraph that isn't that one thing, even sentences they're attached to.