Please Don’t Grab Me with Your Hooks

A quick Google search for websites that offer advice to writers reveals a popular adage. Writers must “grab” a reader’s interest with their writing. And they should do so by including a “hook” that captures and holds their reader’s attention.

I propose that these concepts of grabbing and hooking are detrimental to the relationship that writers hope to cultivate between themselves and their readers.

Let’s consider the connotations of the two words. 

I understand that for a writer, getting a reader’s attention is critical.  Writers must gain and sustain interest in order for their messages to be received.  But as a reader, I resist the idea that my attention should be “grabbed.” Grabbing is an act of force. It’s aggressive. It suggests that readers’ attention must be seized from them, as if they would not pay attention by choice.

We probably all remember a past U.S. president who was recorded making a comment about grabbing women by their private parts. Many women, I gathered, found that idea offensive. Like them, I as a reader am offended by the thought that a writer is trying to grab my attention. Beyond the fact that it is rarely, if ever, all right to grab people, a writer’s effort to grab my attention seems an attempt to rob me of my free will and my dignity.

The idea of attracting readers with a hook is similarly troubling. Is the hook concealed by the verbal equivalent of an appetizing worm?  Are readers to be lured in and caught like a fish on a line? Baited with a snappy statistic or a provocative claim? Caught up and taken by a writer’s rhetorical maneuvers?   

I’m old enough to remember singer/songwriter Mac Davis, who once recounted that a Columbia Records executive had advised him that in order to secure a recording contract for his next album he would need to write a “hook” song. Something catchy that people would find themselves singing in their heads.

Davis said that, as a joke, he sat down and quickly wrote the lyrics to what would become his 1972 hit song “Baby Don’t Get Hooked on Me.” The catchy chorus, Baby, baby, don’t get hooked on me. I’ll just use you, then I’ll set you free, lured his fans and helped to sell his album.

Like the concept of having my attention grabbed, the idea that as a reader I must be caught like a fish on a hook by a writer’s verbal devices offends me. Are readers to be assumed so gullible that they can be tricked into biting on a writer’s message by some rhetorical juicy bait?

That’s just it. Readers are neither vulnerable to the grab, nor so naïve that they can be trapped by a hook. If writers are advised to assume that they are, then they are encouraged to think of their readers as a commodity to be exploited for their own benefit. As a population to be duped into paying attention.

Readers, however, are smart.  They can see through the pretenses of manipulative techniques. And they deserve respect from writers.

I propose that writers cultivate a better, more sophisticated approach to gaining attention than the grab and the hook.  I believe they can do so by committing themselves to three imperatives that will allow them to show their respect and regard for readers, while also enabling them to win and maintain their attention.   

First, be trustworthy.

Let readers know that they can trust what you write by showing them that you know your subject. You have studied, you have gained first-hand experience, or you have discovered something new.  Establish your credibility as a spokesperson on the topic about which you write.

Convey to readers that you have honorable intentions for them. That you want what you write to benefit them. That you genuinely want your reader to be somehow better off for having read your message.

Of course, this advice is nothing new. Aristotle referred to a communicator’s credibility and trustworthiness as ethos. He deemed ethos necessary for a communicator to win and persuade others. A writer’s trustworthiness is every bit as important to readers today as Aristotle would have insisted that it was in the past.   

Second, be interesting.

As a writer, you must cultivate a heartfelt desire to be interesting.  Readers are under no obligation to read your message.  They will do so only if they find it relevant to them.  Only if what you say intrigues or inspires them.

Put your readers’ needs, concerns, and passions at the forefront of your writing.  Show them that you have thought about who they are and considered what they want. Envision your audience, and determine what is important to that population. What have they been waiting to read about?  What have they been waiting for you to write?

Be as clear, straightforward, and honest as you can in your writing. Doing so will win a reader’s interest. Make your message important to your audience. Tell readers what they need or want to know.

Finally, be original.

People today are over-entertained.  They are barraged by blurts of useful and useless information. They are word-wearied.

If you want to attract and maintain the attention of today’s overstimulated readers, you must show them something new. Or show them something familiar in a new way. 

During my career as an English professor, I sometimes felt that I had seen it all. I started telling my creative writing students, I’m old. I’ve been reading poems, short stories, and essays for decades. I’ve read it all.  So, show me something that I haven’t seen many times before. Surprise me! 

Cultivate the unexpected, the surprising, the new slant, or the original turn of phrase. Play with language.

Experiment with ideas until you surprise yourself.  If you surprise yourself, you will likely surprise your reader.  Discover something new, and then share it with readers.

By adhering to these imperatives, writers can develop a more substantial, more meaningful relationship with their readers than they can with gimmicks such as attention grabs and hooks. They can acknowledge their readers’ intelligence and savvy, and they can show them the respect they deserve.

Ultimately, though, they can make their writing meaningful and important.



11 responses to “Please Don’t Grab Me with Your Hooks”

  1.     But perhaps it’s just a matter of acting on a poor choice of metaphors just as Aristotle makes mistakes trying to squeeze everything into “function, classification, and hierarchy” while the modern scientist tries to squeeze everything into a “machine model” — including bio-chemical machines of living things.
        I don’t like being Aristotled or Science shamed. I think that famous quotations from science, philosophy, and academia are always false because they lack context. But when I have an original thought standing in a crowded room, I can’t be silent. To have a chance to speak my original thesis, I have to say “Hey!” in some way to turn a head. But I might tell a tall tale with an “unreliable narrator” who is definitely un-trustworthy.
        Yeah, OK, I can be original, but I’m often like a fish out of water. To get a little oxygen, I have to tell a joke from Aristotle: so I say to the waiter in the restaurant, “What’s that fly doing in my fish soup?” He looks carefully and says, “Backstroke.”
        I’m not sure where in the hierarchy are the fisherman, the hook maker, the linguist, the scientist, and the philosopher.
        Sometimes the child must grab the leg of his Mother of ___ to get attention whether she be philosopher or fisherman, even if he carries a rose in the other hand by another name.

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    1. P.S. if ‘twouldn’t’ve been fishing then with what shall I entice thee?
      How do I read thee
      if countenance be counted
      in the thrusts of wayward ways

      sure ’tis true I’m not a Count renown
      to parry a bed of roses without roses
      betraying a farce’s secret that would
      bed down humor like a trampoline.

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    2. I’ve been scrutinized before for referencing people of unequal weights and contexts in one message, such as Shakespeare and Caesar Milan. But Aristotle, Donald Trump, and Mac Davis all in one essay? I think I may have gone too far.
      I’ve always thought of Aristotle as a man for all times. I guess because he’s ubiquitous in all the things I’ve studied.

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      1.     I grew up on pen and paper, and no computers at all. Actually I was in a transition stage with a variety of quirky teachers, each demanding a different pen: there was one with an ink cartridge that was only one step up from an ink well and feather device. There were deranged pencils with bad erasers. Blodges and smears. Blodges on your name and smears on your work. Basic failures.
            English was not my favorite subject, and I did poorly in reading. My searches were done by flipping through pages and trying to fake it, or consulting with hostile librarians. Index cards and Dewey Decimal systems were like sentence fragments.
            As Monty Python’s Flying Circus says, “Help, my hydrofoil is full of eels.”
            I’ve never been a good reader so I don’t know what readers want. I wish I knew how to express myself better because I get no attention at all.

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      2. P.P.S. Geez, sorry. I cut and pasted wrong and left out my topic sentence: “I don’t like ‘hook & grab’ either, but I generally get zero attention. I’m struggling to understand any and all advice. Whatever I’m doing is not working.”

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      3. You’re in a fine society: writers who don’t get much attention. The majority of us are members. I’m told it takes time. I live by the mantra, Just keep writing! I hope you will do that.

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  2. I’m with you, Georgia! I’m over it – the proclamations that ‘first lines’ need to be super stars. How about good writing overall, to capture attention and interest? And thanks for the giggle about the Mac Davis song. I didn’t know anything about the ‘hooked on you’ trivia/backstory. Funny! 😉

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    1. Mac Davis—one of those weird random memories that has stayed with me. Thank you for reading!

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  3. At times in my life, I’ve been obsessed with the hook of a strong opening line. The other hook I frequently use is to start a piece opaquely and the reveal more info as the story progresses. Are these the types of hooks you mean or are you talking about click bait pieces such as “eight ways to meet women”. I once named an essay “13 ways to become a better writer” as a joke and it wound up getting tons of views and likes. I almost never write what I think others want to read and just wrote what I want to write. Perhaps the secret behind my ever-shrinking audience. Sigh.

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    1. I’m a fan of great opening lines, too. I think they fall under my category of originality. My concern with the words “grab” and “hook” are the attitude they foster toward the reader. As if readers are prey to be snatched and trapped. I remember being surprised that those words were used in composition classes when I was a graduate teaching assistant at WVU. It seemed that a big university would be promoting language that would foster a better image of the reader–more respectful. But not so. I’ve seen the words being used frequently lately. Still just seems wrong.

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