I can, when everything lines up well, when I have had sleep and exercise, when things are in the groove, be a pretty good communicator. Conversations are a delight, whether they are with colleagues, foreign brothers or sisters, or my wife. They are effortless. They build me up and take me to wonderful places. Without trying to speak for you, I wouldn’t be surprised if you felt the same way.
Most of the time, however, I am not a great communicator. I even surprise myself at my ability to mishandle relationships, alienate old friends, confuse my workmates, and irritate family members. I would like to be William Shakespeare, but end up sounding like Conan the Barbarian.
Holly Weeks’ bookFailure to Communicate: How Conversations Go Wrong and What You Can Do to Right Them, was predestined for me. As I digested the text, it struck me that every conversational misstep she mentioned is listed in my permanent criminal record. (Click here to continue reading this book review)
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