They didn’t misread your story. You left something out.

In this chapter

• Under the Magnifying Glass
• The “Rule” This World Runs On
• Why Your Brain Calls This Magic
• Watch Out for The Trap Door
• One Thing To Do Differently
• Put This on the Post-It

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You wrote exactly what you meant. But they read something completely different (if they read it at all) …and you have no idea where it went wrong. Something got lost in translation.

That’s what we’re uncovering today.

Almost one year ago, I sat down with my husband on our back patio and blew up our life plan.

He was already retired when we moved here to North Carolina in 2021. (Yes, mid pandemic, because why not?) And by last year, we had the RV, a map, a plan and a timeline. So of course, I asked him, “What if I quit everything and start over?”

He said, “I’m with you.” That’s who he is.

He is also, without question, a man who can take ten minutes to get to the point of a story. (I say this with much love. And patience.)

Last Tuesday, we were out on the same patio, throwing the ball for the dogs. He started telling me something, and somewhere around minute seven I realized I had no idea where this was going or what was being asked of me.

Was this a vent? Did he need advice? A ride or die response? Was I supposed to be outraged for him? Sympathetic? Laugh? Was an action item coming? Or just something I needed to hear? (Hi hubs. Love you.)

I’ve learned not to ask. He gets there eventually.

I just kept throwing the ball and waiting for the frame to show up.

Here’s the thing though.

I can do that because we have twenty-four years of belonging (and 22 of marriage) between us. I know how his stories work. I know he’ll land it (eventually.) I have enough shared history to hold the gap open while the context catches up.

Your audience really doesn’t have that with you.

And unlike me, they won’t wait.

That frame? It’s not a nice-to-have. In fact, it can completely tank you.

Just ask Peloton.

Under the Magnifying Glass

In 2019, Peloton released a holiday ad they called “The Gift That Gives Back.”

A husband gives his wife a Peloton bike for Christmas. She spends the next year documenting her fitness journey. At the end, she looks at the camera and says how much it changed her.

That was the story Peloton intended.

It was not the story the audience saw.

The internet lost its mind. (No, seriously.) The husband was controlling. The wife was trapped. The marriage was toxic. The ad was sexist.

Peloton’s stock plummeted. The ad disappeared. (But of course the internet is forever, so you can still find a YouTube link here on my blog.)

Now, according to the “storytelling” rules, Peloton had done all the right things. They’d built a story. Shared it, filmed it. And when asked about the response, they said people had misinterpreted it.

Here is what actually happened, though.

Peloton told half a story.

They showed the journey, the bike, the year, the transformation, but they never framed it.

Why did she get the bike? Did she want it? Why did this journey matter to her?

Without that context, viewers didn’t misinterpret anything. They just did what human brains always do when a gap exists.

They filled it.

And when we do that, we fill it in with the answer we grab first.

Some filled it with a wellness story.
Some filled it with a control story.

Ryan Reynolds filled it with a divorce and made an Aviation Gin ad that got 10 million views. (Also on my blog.)

His ad was more than a little brilliant, because he took the backstory already in play…and framed it from there.

Now you’re probably not making a 30-second ad. But you are writing stories and creating content that makes the same mistake: leading with the lesson before you land the context.

That context often lives so naturally inside your own head, you forget that the audience doesn’t start there. They don’t understand the nuances you do, and instead, they are pretty much somewhere in between “Where do I fit in to this” and “do I need this?”

They aren’t misinterpreting you, either.
They’re just finishing the story you left open.

The question is, whose version are they writing?

The “Rule” This World Runs On

Rule #1: Context doesn’t mean a backstory dump. It means just enough to make the moment matter.

Context lies in the frame of a story, which needs some backstory to make sense. But that doesn’t mean all of the backstory. It’s the right back story. Just enough to hand the reader a few answers so they understand what they are about to experience, why it matters to them, and what’s being asked of them.

Fiction writers know this. Tension lives in giving the reader exactly what they need and not a drop more. Too little and they write their own story. (Hello Peloton.) Too much, and you’ve killed the tension before it started. (Hello, 200 views.)

The sweet spot isn’t more context. It’s the right context.

We assume context means explaining more. More information, more background, more credentials, more proof that we know what we’re talking about.

But that’s not context. That’s knowledge transfer. And knowledge transfer without the right frame lands as noise.

Context isn’t what you know. It’s what they need to feel and be aware of so that what you know matters to them.

What context could have fixed the Peloton fall-out?

A single shot of her asking for the bike. Circling it in a catalog, walking in a mall and hinting that she’d love to have one.

Five seconds. Not a backstory dump of why… just enough to frame to the viewer that she really wanted this. Then the gift is sweet. Not…whatever else the internet decided that day.

Why Your Brain Calls This Magic

There’s a reason missing context doesn’t just confuse people. It activates them.

Neuroscientist Professor Sophie Scott puts it this way: “Almost all perception is based on the detection of change.”

Our brains aren’t passively receiving information. They are constantly scanning for what’s new, what’s different, what’s relevant. And when it detects a gap, it doesn’t just wait for the answer.

It writes one.

This is called gap filling and your brain does it automatically, instantly, and with whatever raw material is most available. Which means your audience isn’t going rogue… they’re just filling in gaps their way.

Context is how you choose which gaps are left open.

My hubby’s stories work (eventually) because I have years of shared context to fill in those gaps correctly. Twenty four years of raw material.

Your reader? They’re working with whatever they picked up in the last 30 seconds, what their day has been like, what’s bugging them today, and the auto-reflex of a scroll-happy thumb.

Watch Out for The Trap Door

This very thing is why I named this section trap door. I’ve walked into it repeatedly before I understood what I was building. And when you’re an expert in what you know, there is nothing simple about helping a stranger care about you in 3 seconds or less.

When I started the Content Motive, I did what I’d done at my corporate jobs, building content and marketing for companies. Shared the frameworks, the strategies, what I knew. But there was one very big missing element: the context of the company I worked for.

The company’s brand did a lot of context work. I just didn’t know it until I didn’t have it anymore. So none of what I shared worked.

The trap isn’t that experts don’t have context to share. It’s that you’ve lived inside your own expertise so long that the context becomes invisible. We forget it was ever a question. That everyone was starting from the place in our heads.

They aren’t.

But the beauty about context? Fixing it takes about 30 seconds. Finding it just takes one question.

One Thing To Do Differently

Before you publish your next piece of content (or write your chapter), ask this question:

What does someone need before this lands the way I intend it to?

Try it with something you’re working on right now. Or something you just published.

If it’s a post, look at the first 2 lines. Here’s how to find the answer:

• What do they need to know is true before your point makes sense?
• What situation do they need to recognize themselves in?
• What do they already believe about this topic?

Not what you want them to know or what you’re about to teach. What are they actually walking in with, and are you meeting them there?

In Peloton’s ad, it was simply… the audience really needed to know she wanted the bike for Christmas. Then the whole story changes.

Put This on the Post-It

Skip the frame and your audience will write the story. It just won’t be yours.