Intimacy
That’s the answer given more than two decades ago by Nicholas Negroponte (founder of MIT’s Media Lab and of the “One Laptop per Child” project) to the question, “What’s the next step beyond personal computing?” It came to mind when I read this piece from the New York Times this morning:
I attended such a performance in Manhattan in the early seventies, and loved it. Physical touch is important to me, and I experienced the event as being warmly and lovingly embraced, with safety and even propriety.
Not everyone likes to be physically touched. But every reader likes to be touched emotionally by what they read–even if the way into their emotions is through facts and logic.
When I write, I like to think about what my reader would experience as intimacy. Here are some of my thoughts:
- The reader wants to feel as if the text is addressing them personally, not as part of a mob.
- The author should come across as human and vulnerable, but without detailed discussions of hemorrhoids or other manifestations of TMI (too much information). Of course, what is and is not TMI will vary by audience.
- For me, typos and misspellings are jarring. I’ve learned that this is not a universal sentiment, but I nonetheless work hard to eliminate them.
- I avoid phrases such as “Some of you…,” which address a group of people rather than an individual reader.
- I experience smart-ass “humor” and cynical statements as turn-offs; your taste may vary.
I strive for intimacy in my writing—appropriate intimacy. What’s appropriate? Clearly, that’s up to you. Lately, I’ve noticed that movie trailers open with a rating caution: “The following preview has been approved for appropriate audiences.” Huh?
You are the author of your book. You choose your audience, by design or default. It’s up to you to decide what’s appropriate. Be bold.






