What are these guidelines? Why do we need them? Who decides which ones apply? How do they work in practice? Who benefits from their application? Why were these theoretical hair-splitting rules even conceived? Where and when do they exist? Do I even exist? Do you?
You probably think such questions are either childish or pedantic. Most would likely agree they’re both, and a silly waste of valuable time in the bargain. People who focus their time and skills on solving real-world, practical problems will think allocating resources to waxing poetic definitely misses the dartboard. It just feels… hum, wrong?
Even this (somewhat) childish and (totally) pedantic UX Writer wants to agree.
Worse than wrong is actually discussing (UX) Writing at lengths when one could be, like, making Electrics, and Interwebapps, or other technical stuff that I definitely understand thanks to the extensive research that I’ve totally done.
But worst than worse is anyone discussing your writing. To your face. Or directly into your ears (for subtle emphasis). Believe me. This, I know.
So, let’s help you make strings of words for user interface text items that are so efficient that no one will notice them.
Because, painfully, going unnoticed is one of the most important criteria when evaluating the quality of UX Writing. Contrary to, for instance, Content Writing, where cooking recipes seem to justify Homerian introductions. But let’s jump right in before I digress any further…