Hey Reader,

I thought I had a good idea for my email to you this week. But in the end, I decided not to write it and to write about not writing it instead (and if this opener doesn't have you hooked, I don't know how to help you 🤪).

Ok, let's see if I can bring this one home:

My process for writing this newsletter is simple:
1. I come across something that catches my interest. It may be something I read, something a PhD student says in a workshop or during coaching, or something that happens in my personal life that makes me stop in my tracks.
2. I think about what I can learn from that moment on a meta-level and how that learning could apply to your life and your professional journey.
3. I sit down, I write and I hit "send".

A couple of days ago, I thought I had encountered such a moment. Something happened that moved me, and as usual, my first reflex was to think "I'll turn this into a newsletter for my PhDs".

But luckily, I didn't have time to write the email write right away. And the more I thought about my idea the more I realized it's not a good fit for the newsletter.

Not because it was necessarily a bad idea. But I just couldn't find an angle to make it relevant for you.

That's my point today: not every good idea deserves to be on the center stage. In fact, most ideas don't.

That's not only true for newsletters but for anything that is meant for an audience. Including ideas for conference contributions, media outreach, and even papers or research proposals.

Deep dive of the week: Having something interesting to say is not the same as having something worth saying to a particular audience.

As people who care deeply about our work, we're often so immersed in what we do that we forget not everyone sees its relevance the way we do. And that's not because our audience isn't smart enough to understand it. It's because they have different backgrounds, interests, and needs. And we can only connect with them if our message meets them where they are.

So before we start talking (or writing an abstract, preparing a presentation, or pitching our research idea) we need to take a step back and ask ourselves three questions:

• Who am I talking to? Who should hear what I have to say? What do they already know, and what do they care about?
• What's my purpose? What do I want them to understand, think, or do?
• What's my main message? If they remember just one thing, what should it be?

These questions sound simple, but answering them can change everything: what you include, what you leave out, and how you frame your message.

And sometimes, the answer is that your idea isn't right for this audience, this format, or this moment. That's not wasted effort. That's good communication.

Your exercise this week:

Take a piece of communication you're currently working on (an abstract, a presentation, a paper, whatever is on your desk) and answer those three questions before you continue writing.

If you struggle to answer them, don't start polishing your sentences just yet. You may need to rethink your angle first.

Because your job isn't to communicate everything you know. It's to figure out what's worth communicating, to whom, and why.

Sometimes, that means reconsidering and reframing your initial idea. Sometimes, it means saving it for another day and another audience.

Take care,

Andrea

P.S. I need your help! As you may know, I've recently relocated to the UK. While I love that my clients in Germany regularly give me a reason to visit home, I'd also love to work with more PhD students and postdocs here in the UK.

Do you know someone who coordinates doctoral training or professional development at your university? If you'd be happy to connect us, just hit reply and let me know! I'll send you a short introduction you can forward to them.

And as a thank-you for making the connection, I'd love to offer you a free 1:1 coaching session.

Thanks for helping me spread the word! ❤️