Rework by Jason Fried, David Heinemeier Hansson Page A

your personality when putting words on paper? Forget rules. Communicate!
    And when you’re writing, don’t think about all the people who may read your words. Think of one person. Then write for that one person. Writing for a mob leads to generalities and awkwardness. When you write to a specific target, you’re a lot more likely to hit the mark.

    Four-letter words
    There are four-letter words you should never use in business. They’re not fuck or shit . They’re need, must, can’t, easy, just, only , and fast . These words get in the way of healthy communication. They are red flags that introduce animosity, torpedo good discussions, and cause projects to be late.
    When you use these four-letter words, you create a black-and-white situation. But the truth is rarely black and white. So people get upset and problems ensue. Tension and conflict are injected unnecessarily.
    Here’s what’s wrong with some of them:
Need . Very few things actually need to get done. Instead of saying “need,” you’re better off saying “maybe” or “What do you think about this?” or “How does this sound?” or “Do you think we could get away with that?”
Can’t . When you say “can’t,” you probably can. Sometimes there are even opposing can’ts: “We can’t launch it like that, because it’s not quite right” versus “We can’t spend any more time on this because we have to launch.” Both of those statements can’t be true. Or wait a minute, can they?
Easy . Easy is a word that’s used to describe other people’s jobs. “That should be easy for you to do, right?” But notice how rarely people describe their own tasks as easy. For you, it’s “Let me look into it”—but for others, it’s “Get it done.”
    These four-letter words often pop up during debates (and also watch out for their cousins: everyone, no one, always , and never) . Once uttered, they make it tough to find a solution. They box you into a corner by pitting two absolutes against each other. That’s when head-butting occurs. You squeeze out any middle ground.
    And these words are especially dangerous when you string them together: “We need to add this feature now. We can’t launch without this feature. Everyone wants it. It’s only one little thing so it will be easy. You should be able to get it in there fast!” Only thirty-six words, but a hundred assumptions. That’s a recipe for disaster.

ASAP is poison
    Stop saying ASAP. We get it. It’s implied. Everyone wants things done as soon as they can be done.
    When you turn into one of these people who adds ASAP to the end of every request, you’re saying everything is high priority. And when everything is high priority, nothing is. (Funny how everything is a top priority until you actually have to prioritize things.)
    ASAP is inflationary. It devalues any request that doesn’t say ASAP. Before you know it, the only way to get anything done is by putting the ASAP sticker on it.
    Most things just don’t warrant that kind of hysteria. If a task doesn’t get done this very instant, nobody is going to die. Nobody’s going to lose their job. It won’t cost the company a ton of money. What it will do is create artificial stress, which leads to burnout and worse.
    So reserve your use of emergency language for true emergencies. The kind where there are direct, measurable consequences to inaction. For everything else, chill out.

CHAPTER
CONCLUSION



Inspiration is perishable
    We all have ideas. Ideas are immortal. They last forever.
    What doesn’t last forever is inspiration. Inspiration is like fresh fruit or milk: It has an expiration date.
    If you want to do something, you’ve got to do it now. You can’t put it on a shelf and wait two months to get around to it. You can’t just say you’ll do it later. Later, you won’t be pumped up about it anymore.
    If you’re inspired on a Friday, swear off the weekend and dive into the project. When you’re high on inspiration, you