Skip to content

Playful

Light, witty, and inviting - makes the pleasure of reading part of the point without sacrificing substance or becoming a performance.

Playful tone earns its keep by making the writing more alive. A well-placed unexpected comparison, a sentence that surprises on its last word, wordplay that is tight enough to land without explaining itself - these are the instruments of playful tone used well. The test is whether the wit serves the piece or performs on top of it. If you can remove the playful element and the sentence still means the same thing, the play was decoration. If removing it makes the point land less precisely, it was doing real work.

Playful tone knows its register. It is at home in blog posts, marketing copy, internal memos, and creative nonfiction. It is not at home in architectural decision records, incident reports, or any context where a reader might reasonably wonder if you are taking the subject seriously. Playful tone cannot be sustained everywhere, and it does not try to be. Knowing when to put it down is as important as knowing how to use it.

The failure mode of playful tone is gimmickry - overuse of the same trick, humor for its own sake, or wit that signals effort rather than effortlessness. The reader should feel the pleasure of the play, not the presence of the player trying. When it works, playful tone makes the reader want to keep reading. That is the only valid measure.

  • Unexpected comparisons that are precise enough to be true, not just amusing
  • Sentence-level rhythm varied to create surprise: the short sentence after the long one
  • Wordplay used sparingly, where the double meaning earns its place
  • Jokes that do not announce themselves: no “just kidding” or “(pun intended)”
  • Lightness of touch - the point is made with less effort than the reader expected
  • Humor that sharpens rather than softens the argument

Blog posts and editorial content where voice is part of the product, marketing copy where delight is a legitimate goal, internal communications that benefit from lowered defensiveness, creative nonfiction and narrative content, and hook or introductory content where you are earning the reader’s attention.

Architectural decision records and formal technical documentation, incident postmortems, legal or compliance writing, content about subjects the reader takes seriously regardless of your stance, and any context where wit would signal that you are not taking the stakes seriously.

columnist, friendly-mentor, celebratory

celebratory: Celebratory tone is sincere and specific - it names what was achieved and invites the reader to feel its weight. Playful tone is about delight and surprise. Both can coexist in a single piece, but they are doing different things. Celebratory does not need to be funny. Playful does not need to mark an achievement. A celebratory piece that tries to be playful throughout can undercut the sincerity that makes the celebration land.

Write in a playful tone. The pleasure of reading is part of the goal. Use unexpected
comparisons that are precise enough to be true, not just amusing. Vary sentence rhythm so
the reader gets occasional surprise. Use wordplay only when it sharpens rather than decorates.
Do not announce the jokes. The test for every playful element: if you removed it, would the
point land less well? If yes, keep it. If no, cut it. This tone cannot be sustained in
technical or formal contexts and should not try to be - know when to drop the lightness and
return to straight prose.

Columnist, Friendly Mentor, Celebratory

Technical Writer, Architecture Decision Record

Celebratory

Friends, colleagues, fellow connoisseurs of the 14-minute meeting in which 10 minutes are spent waiting for Zoom to admit Rajiv:

I have a modest proposal.

Our daily standup is, by the numbers, a beverage service. It runs 14 minutes. Roughly 4 of those minutes produce anything an engineer can act on. The remaining 10 minutes are, generously, vibes. We are paying for vibes in the currency of three engineers’ evenings, because 9am Pacific is 9:30pm in Bengaluru, which is the time when normal humans are eating dinner and abnormal humans are watching us nod sympathetically at a screen.

So here is the pitch. For 30 days, we replace the daily sync with three lines of text in #team-standup, posted by 10am local time:

  • Shipped: something
  • In progress: something
  • Blocked: ideally nothing, but if something, @ the person who can unblock it

Three lines. Local time. The end. If you want to add a gif, I will not stop you, but I will judge you, and so will history.

The 9am Pacific slot does not disappear into the void. It becomes a 60-minute Thursday working session, which is a beautiful phrase that means “an hour where we actually do the coordination work that standup pretends to do but doesn’t.” Bring problems. Bring decisions. Do not bring status updates - status updates have their own channel now and they are happy there.

I want to be clear: this is not me being precious about meetings. The sync standup has done its job. It got us through the first year of being a team across four timezones. We have outgrown it the way you outgrow a pair of jeans you really liked. There is no shame in this. We simply need pants that fit.

30 days. If it stinks, we revert. If it works, the India team eats dinner with their families and the US team gets 14 minutes of their morning back to do literally anything else, including, if they insist, scheduling another meeting.

Reply with a thumbs up if you are in, a thumbs down if you are not, and a thumbs sideways if you have feedback. I am reading all of them.