Most messages fail because they’re written for the sender — proof, pitch, quota — instead of for the person opening the inbox. I start from their context: time, skepticism, and what a good reply would even look like.
One line of relevance
Before the ask, I need one credible reason this message isn’t interchangeable. That might be a post they wrote, a role change, or a problem their company named publicly. If I can’t name it in a sentence, I’m not ready to send.
One question worth answering
“Let me know if you’re interested” isn’t a question — it’s homework. I try to ask something they can answer in a minute without feeling cornered: a preference, a constraint, or a small clarification. Easy to reply to beats clever.
Short, edited, human
Long drafts usually mean I’m negotiating with myself on the page. I cut adjectives, remove the origin story, and read it on my phone. If it feels like a template with a name mail-merged in, I rewrite the opening until it doesn’t.
Respect the channel
LinkedIn isn’t email and it isn’t a sales letter. I assume partial attention, mobile, and a low appetite for attachments in message one. The first touch earns the second — not the other way around.
What I check before send
- Would I reply to this if I were busy?
- Is the ask proportional to the relationship (none yet)?
- Did I make “no” as easy as “yes”?
Responses follow clarity and fit more often than they follow polish. I’d rather send fewer messages that sound like one human to one human than many that sound like outreach.