Last post

I find the subject of persuasive communication endlessly fascinating, so I'm pretty sure I could go on writing this blog for as long as I'm capable of tapping away at a keyboard. But I've decided to bring it to a full stop. This will be my last post. I wonder, though, if I can persuade you to stay with me for just a few more paragraphs while I explain why I've reached this decision?

I suppose the main reason is the obvious one: I think I'm starting to repeat myself. Of course, there's nothing wrong with a bit of repetition in persuasive writing; quite often, it's actually necessary to say the same thing in a number of slightly different ways in order to win someone round to your way of seeing things. But, after a certain point, the law of diminishing returns comes into force, and you start to bore your reader - which, as you'll know if you've read my book, is the second worst crime a persuasive writer can commit. And I'm afraid I may be rapidly approaching that point (if I haven't passed it already).

My other reason for becoming an ex-blogger is, I think, more interesting, since it concerns the medium itself. I've enjoyed writing here very much over the last 15 months or so, but I've never been able to shake off my reservations about the form. Blogging is, for me, just a bit too easy. Take three minutes to get set up, and you're away: no need to think before you write; no quality control; no time to reflect on what you've written before sending it out into the world. No discipline, in fact, of any kind: if I chose, I could interrupt myself right now to give you my mother's famous flapjack recipe, or to share with you the poem I wrote last week. (Don't worry, I'm not going to.)

I'm sure some would say that these are blogging's best attributes; that it's this unboundaried immediacy that gives the best examples of the form their snap, crackle and pop. But, for me, it just feels a bit self-indulgent. And I'm pretty sure I do my best work when there are constraints: a brief to be met, a deadline, a sharply defined objective.

Anyway, I'm clear in my own mind that, in a world where there is way too much information - and where everyone has a vehemently held opinion and the means to express it - one of the biggest courtesies we can show our fellow human-beings is not to communicate with them, unless we feel an overwhelming need to do so, combined with a sincere belief that at least some of them will find what we have to communicate useful, interesting or enjoyable.

Which, of course, brings me back to the main theme of my book: that in persuasive writing, the reader's interests must come first. And right now, my considered professional opinion is that yours will best be served by me shutting up for a bit.

So thanks very much for calling by, and for your interesting comments (I haven't had very many, but their rarity has made those I have received all the more thrilling). Who knows, I might write another book one day, in which case I hope you'll buy multiple copies and give them to all your friends. Meanwhile, if you'd like to get in touch for any reason, I'd be very happy to hear from: just drop me an email from the main Can I Change Your Mind? website (www.canichangeyourmind.co.uk)

Bye for now.