An Ode to the LinkedIn Post - Caperton Gillett

A rear 3/4 view from the waist up off a man silhouetted against a dimly lit, smoky bar, with a single spotlight casting a warm glow in the blue-toned darkness. From what we can see of the man, he’s neatly groomed and well-dressed, wearing a suit and a shirt with an open collar and smoking a cigarette, because as we all know, smoking makes you cool. — “I call this next one ‘I was talking with a high-performing executive this morning, and I was shocked by something they told me.’”

I’ve been, as you might expect, spending a lot of time on LinkedIn since I’ve been job hunting.

(Reasonable rates, inquire within.)

And I guess I’d noticed the one-sentence paragraph thing before.

You know the one-sentence paragraph thing?

Where each new sentence has to go on a double-spaced line?

I’m sure I’d noticed it before, but now I’m noticing noticing it.

It’s so choppy.

So abrupt.

So tedious, kind of.

But it has to be effective, right?

I mean, everyone’s using it.

(Not me, obviously.)

(By the time I get to the end of one, my head is throbbing.)

(Like, literally throbbing, like I can feel the crown of my head faintly pulsing.)

(And yes, sure, I’ve never met a long paragraph I didn’t want to make longer. Whatever.)

They’re just so choppy and abrupt and tedious, and I’ve never pretended the rules of copywriting are inviolable, but when it comes to readability, varying sentence length and rhythm, making the impact lines stand out so the audience grasps the important points to shit, sorry,

💥 They’re just so choppy.

💥 And abrupt and tedious.

💥 It’s like you have to take a breath after every sentence.

💥 It’s like every sentence in the post is so important, it has to get its own line.

💥 “The more you know about people,” ooh, glad you called that’n out.

But it HAS to be effective, right?

Right?

We see a man with longish, unkempt hair, wearing a half-unbuttoned loose Henley-looking top with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a tattoo on his wrist, because he’s edgy. He’s smoking a cigarette (because he’s edgy) and looking concerned as he types on an old-fashioned typewriter. On his desk, we can faintly see an open notebook, a black banker’s lamp, and a spray of white flowers. — “What rhymes with ‘buy my online course’?”

(All the sources claim a boost in engagement of wait, literally no one provides statistics.)

And I guess why not?

Why write a social media post when you can write the world’s most boring beat poem?

Why write 15 paragraphs when you can write 50?

If the LinkedIn vernacular is one sentence per line, maybe the thing to do is just conform.

Throbbing head and all.

Share choppy, double-spaced words of wisdom.

Get LinkedIn famous.

And watch it translate into success and riches, right?

Right?

(Reasonable rates.)

(Inquire within.)

Jazz.

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