I have a confession to make. I, as a reader, am clueless. In fact, I'm a bit of a dimwit. When reading, I struggle to figure the information out on my own. It's like I have to have everything spelled out for me . . .
But that is who I am: a clueless reader. Maybe I'm not alone. Maybe I'm not the only who struggles to know what is meant by words such as "things" and "stuff." Maybe I'm not the only one who needs a transition to inform me that the paper has switched topics. Maybe I'm not the only one who has great difficulty guessing the intention of a writer.
But I'm okay with who I am, and I would gladly have everyone treat me as I deserve. I am a babe. I am unfamiliar with the writer's background information. I am a clueless reader. You will not insult me by making your points extra clear, your words precise, your organization intentional, and your phrasing concise. No, you will not insult me . . . you will honor me.
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