Welcome to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (U.S.).
Today’s word is “brevity.”
Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.
Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Please check to confirm that your pingback is there. If not, please manually add your link in the comments.
And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. Show them some love.
Welcome once again to Fandango’s Provocative Question. Each week I will pose what I think is a provocative question for your consideration.
By provocative, I don’t mean a question that will cause annoyance or anger. Nor do I mean a question intended to arouse sexual desire or interest.
What I do mean is a question that is likely to get you to think, to be creative, and to provoke a response. Hopefully a positive response.
Today’s provocative question was prompted by blogger Melanie over at Sparks From a Combustible Mind. In this post, Melanie wrote on the subject of brevity. She brought up “the old debate about length versus brevity” in blog posts.
Melanie wrote that she is a “long” post writer, noting that her word count often nudges 1,000 words. But she pointed out that a blogger she follows is of the opinion that anything over 350-500 words is just “too long.” (I don’t think that was me, but it could have been me.) And then Melanie wrote, “Length should never factor into a creative process,” and “saying something is too long or too short is to try to put a limit on creativity in someone else.”
I don’t usually express my own opinion on my provocative question prompts because I don’t want to influence how others might respond to these prompts. But today I’m making an exception.
Are you familiar with “TL;DR”? That’s an abbreviation for “too long; didn’t read.” I’ll be honest. Once a post approaches the 500+ word range, unless it’s extremely compelling, I consider it to be TL;DR, and I’ll end up either skimming or skipping the rest of the post.
When I first started blogging back in 2005, my posts were long and meandering. In 2006, my average post was 1,072 words. By 2009, it was down to 772 words on average. In 2014, 556 average words per post. I noticed that as the lengths of my posts decreased, my blog’s traffic increased. Cause and effect or coincidence?
I remember taking note, before I started this blog in 2017, that none other than than The Bard, himself, William Shakespeare, said that “Brevity is the soul of wit,” and I do endeavor to be witty in my posts. The late Al Neuharth, founder of, and columnist for, USA Today, wrote that “long-winded stuff loses the attention of listeners and readers.” His “magic number” for his editorials was around 300 words.
I decided to embrace brevity in my posts when I started This, That, and the Other five years ago. These days, as can be seen in the table below, my average post is just under 240 words.
Anyway, my provocative questions to you this week are about whether or not size matters to you. The long and the short of it is…
Do you have a preference with respect to the length of blog posts you read? Does the number of words in a post affect how you read it or even if you will read it? What is your average post length?
By the way, in case you’re wondering, this post contains 585 words.
If you choose to participate, write a post with your response to the question. Once you are done, tag your post with #FPQ and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Or you can simply include a link to your post in the comments. But remember to check to confirm that your pingback or your link shows up in the comments.
“I previewed your first draft and I’d like to suggest a few revisions that might prevent you from appearing to be overly irreverent and could reveal you to be a kind of revolutionary figure in this industry,” my editor said.
“Look,” I responded, “I’m in it for the money, so the more revenue I can generate from this gig, the better. I’m good with doing whatever it takes to rev up the buzz and I want you to feel free to revise away. So by all means, take your red pen, make your edits, and reveal to me your secret formula that will prevent me from failing, as I have previously done upon occasion. I want my work to create waves that will reverberate with my audience. Please review my draft, edit wherever you think is necessary, and help me reverse this inspirational slump I’m suffering from.”
“Okay,” my editor said. “My secret for reviving your career is K.I.S.S. That stands for Keep It Simple Stupid.”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” I said.
“Brevity is the key to revitalizing you popularity and reversing your downward course.”
“Brevity?”
“Yes, you’re to damn wordy,” my editor said. “Cut back by twenty percent the length of your televangelical sermons, Reverend, and your flock will forever revere you.”
Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, where the challenge is to use “rev” or find a word that contains it.
My wife asked last week me if I didn’t “get” the concept of a one-liner. “Why would you ask me that?” I asked her. She then proceeded to point out how long my responses to Linda G. Hill’s One-Liner Wednesday prompts usually are. “Way more than one line,” she said. “Does everyone who responds to her one-liner prompt do that?” she asked. I told her that most did not. “So why, then, do you?”
I explained to her that the reason my One-Liner Wednesday posts exceed one line is because I like to help people understand why I decided to choose whatever one-liner I chose and what it means to me.
“But it’s supposed to be a one-line response,” she said. “When you respond to a 100 word prompt, do you write 100 words and then add another 200 or 300 words explaining why you wrote the first 100 words?”
“No,” I said.
“Then you should limit your One-Liner Wednesday post to one line. To quote Shakespeare,” she added, “Brevity is the soul of wit.”
“Perfect,” I said. “I’m going to use that Shakespeare quote for my next One-liner Wednesday post.”
I think my wife will be very pleased when she sees how I’ve taken her advice.
My wife asked last week me if I didn’t “get” the concept of a one-liner. “Why would you ask me that?” I asked her. She then proceeded to point out how long my responses to Linda G. Hill’s 
This, That, and the Other 