The Backstory

When it comes to words, I take things personally: circuitous phrasing, syntactical blunders, grammatical fails, punctuation flops. No human triumph is more elusive than clear, concise expression; no work is nobler than wrestling to achieve it. Whether sharpening CTAs to sweat out ambiguity, condensing text while retaining meaning, or crafting intuitive onboarding, I treat writing as a process—not a product. 

Earning a Certificate in UX Writing unearthed new language for my well-worn sensibilities. Earlier, as an MFA student in Nonfiction Writing, my favorite class conversations scrutinized trees as much as forests. This knack for microcopy assumed new dimension with a fellowship in Children’s Book Writing—wherein conflicts are introduced, explored and resolved in just a handful of pages.

“Only ideas are perfect," my undergrad writing professor once cooed into his coffee. "Language is the imperfect medium of thought.”

I jotted this down, attuned to its brilliance but unaware it would go on to thrum in me till the first grays appeared in my hair. My professional roles have been linked by a drive to do right by this challenge—to translate ideas into words with focus and grit.

Whether teaching adult literacy classes, tutoring teenagers in college admission essays or writing curriculum, my work has hinged on shrinking the inevitable gap between intention and execution. My students know that their chosen words must speak for themselves, and speak accurately. I apply equal precision as a UX Writer to create user experiences that seamlessly guide and delight. As is often said, “Easy reading is hard writing.” 

In the Hot Seat(s)
Q&A with Nadine Gorelik...and Nadine Gorelik
Tell me something that people don’t know about you.
I don’t know the difference between alligators and crocodiles. I half-heartedly Google it like once a year, but the answer doesn’t stick.

If I could win a million dollars by correctly differentiating alligators from crocodiles, I’d stay empty-handed and ashamed.
Well, I won’t add to that shame. Anything less shameful you can share?
Sure. I’m intrigued by specialization. When someone uncovers the kernel of exactly what they’re good at, and finds a way to build a life around refining that kernel, I think that’s pretty utopian. If we valued depth of knowledge as much as breadth, more people would refine their kernel and find contentment...and contented people make for more harmonious societies.
Hmm. So, if you were in charge, how would you foster this specialization?
I’d have schools prioritize deep exploration of interests over broad strokes on subjects that few people use in real life. Some colleges understand this model–students take just one class at a time, and each class lasts a month or so. The American attention span is so divided; potential is wasted on the push to multitask as young as preschool.
Sounds like a speech in some political debate.
Yeah, well...I realize that
now.
Name something else that’s undervalued.
Rainbow sprinkles. Easy.
If you ran the world, what
Whoops
There’d be no olives, anchovies, humidity or asymmetrical furniture.
That wasn’t the question.
Should I say something deeper?
Forget it. Let’s move on. If you could appear on any gameshow, which one would it be?
Well, I’ve always wanted to spin the Big Wheel on “The Price Is Right,” and I do have a photographic memory for prices—but with Bob Barker gone, the mystique has fizzled.

These days I’d say “Jeopardy,” but I want to choose the categories. I usually slay the food and wordplay ones. And I need Alex Trebek back.
Yeah, except that’s not how it works. Let’s try this: you can bring only 5 items to a desert island. What do you bring?
Sunglasses. A big tent. An air fryer and a dustbuster. Internet.
You know there isn’t any power on the island, right?
An acquaintance recently told me, “Ask for forgiveness, not for permission.” Listen, my $40 Costco air fryer’s cut my cook time in, like, a third. Same with my electric bill. And sand’s gonna keep blowing into the tent, you know? I can’t stand that stuff.
K...
Time’s almost up. Leave the people with some inspiration.
This pressure’s pretty crushing. How much time do I have?
Not much; hurry up.
Time's up.