HOUSE

“

The private car stood alone on a railroad siding bathed in the hot red blood of a desert sunset.”

That is the first line of a novel. In 19 words, it sets the scene–the geography (desert), the time (sunset), the location (railroad siding), the status of the as yet unmet protagonist (private car). Selective adjectives also set the tone–“hot red blood”–foreshadowing dire escapades.

Here are a few more “first lines.”

“All that spring, I was scared.”

“Hunching his shoulders against the cold, pelting rain, Major Mac Traven slipped a hand under his caped coat to assure himself his spare pistol remained in position.”

“It was dark and cold, the only light coming from the crack under the ill-fitting door.”

Would you read those novels? I would. And I did. They are all from western stories by Louis L’Amour, the prolific writer who never wasted or repeated a single word, although he wrote 177 stories in essentially the same genre.

So what, you ask? Well, it reminds me of the importance of writing clearly–grabbing the reader’s attention, then holding it. Lately it seems as though communicators have lost that ability. Or maybe it’s the sameness of increasing amounts of slop spewed out by so-called Artificial Intelligence.

Or maybe I’m just reading the wrong stuff.

I value clarity in writing. That seems to be a lost art. Of course clarity in writing reveals clarity in thinking, so maybe it is the thinking that is sinking.

This came to mind as I tried to decipher a simple job description that popped up through one of those job finding apps that I never got around to unsubscribing from.

I was mildly interested in the position because the title promised it to be a remote, parttime position that paid exceedingly well for, ironically, helping create clearly understood instructional materials. Right up my scribbling alley, I thought, as I clicked the link.

Turned out to be a blind alley. I did not understand the assignment. Literally.

(NOTE: You can skip the next three paragraphs, because you won’t understand them, either.)

“[Unnamed Company] is seeking an Implementation Coordinator to support school districts in bringing inquiry- based social studies to life in classrooms. In this role, you’ll partner with district leaders, school administrators, and teachers to implement high-quality instructional materials, deliver engaging professional learning, and drive strong adoption across schools.

This is a dynamic, relationship- driven role for someone who enjoys working across levels – from collaborating with district leaders to supporting teachers in the day-to-day realities of classroom practice. You’ll work closely with the Strategic Implementation Lead and district Implementation Leaders to execute implementation plans, monitor progress, and provide the hands-on support that helps turn vision into meaningful classroom impact.

Create and refine district- specific tools (e.g., pacing guides, crosswalks with instructional frameworks, etc.) that support strong implementation. You’ll work closely with the Strategic Implementation Lead and district Implementation Leaders to execute implementation plans, monitor progress, and provide the hands-on support that helps turn vision into meaningful classroom impact.”

Now I am no neophyte when it comes to the written words that are forced through academia’s meat grinder. I spent a career in education, I’ve judged UIL writing competitions, and I served on the editorial board of a national educational journal. I speak fluent jargon-ese. But after going over those lines five times, I still have no idea what I would be signing up to actually do.

I also realize a job description is not a western novel. Different audience; different purpose. But for crying out loud, would it hurt to make it read like one? As in: “Boy howdy, pardner. If you can get these thick-headed seat polishers excited to learn about the world around them, roping their minds without ruffling the feathers of the folks in the front office, have we got a gig for you.”

I might take that job.

Phil Houseal is a writer and owner of Full House PR. Contact him for help with press releases, social media, web content, and copywriting. www.FullHousePR.com fullhousephil.substack.com/