Hundreds of You Send Advice Letters Every Week. Here’s How to Do It Right.

An illustration of different people's heads above long sheets of paper.
Illustration by Anjali Kamat.

This is part of Help! Wanted, a special series from Slate advice. In the advising biz, there are certain eternal dilemmas that bedevil letter writers and columnists alike. This week, we’re taking them head-on.

Each week, our columnists and editors sift through too many advice letters to count. So naturally, we also have opinions on those letters. There’s a certain art form to a captivating letter: the pacing, the candor, the characters, the story, the questions—all come into play in the perfect letter.

But how can you, someone writing in from the thick of the story, capture that magic when you’re tormented by what’s playing out in real time? (And no, this isn’t for you letter-writing hobbyists.) We tried to demystify the inner workings of the advice letter by asking our columnists and editors about what makes a tale prime for advising.

Nearly everyone we asked stressed how important that delicate balance is between capturing what’s at stake and not bombarding columnists with irrelevant, confusing details. Unfortunately, there’s no formula for this one.

Don’t start with “Brace yourself, this is going to be long,” or “Sorry this is so complicated.” I will not read it. I can’t keep up with more than four characters at a time and I don’t have time to draw out a family tree to understand the issue. —Jenée Desmond-Harris, Dear Prudence

So many letters fall into two categories: not enough information, or too much information. While I’m sure a lot of columnists dislike the former, and I do too, I find the latter way harder. It often comes from folks who are so in the weeds of whatever family drama or nighttime routine they’re writing about that they no longer even know themselves which details are pertinent and which are not. So, when I review a long letter, I have to think about whether I can faithfully trim it down so that it can be published. That said, some issues truly do require long explanations, but in those cases, the narrative is usually very straightforward and easy to follow, meaning the length isn’t problematic for me or readers. So, folks should review with a critical eye, and think to themselves, “What is the main thing I need answers on?” And make sure no other red herrings or tangents are there to get in the way of that goal. —Allison Price, Care and Feeding

Brevity is a bonus, but including the relevant details is key—emphasis on relevant. That said, I’d always rather excess information than too little, and have had some fun with ultra-sparse questions in the past. —Jessica Stoya, How to Do It

Don’t have too many people/characters in your letters! It gets very hard to keep track of who is who when there are more than three (or maybe four) people involved. Also: Covering long stretches of time is tough—focus on the present! You can get great advice without four decades of backstory. —Hillary Frey, editor

Look at the letters that have been published previously in the column you’re writing to and try to roughly hit a similar word count. You want to pack as much detail as you can into your letter without making it so long that it will be edited down significantly or skipped over altogether. —Shannon Palus, editor

When you’re ruthlessly cutting down to 100 words, make sure you’re not slashing a few key facts.

Don’t leave out relevant details—make sure you tell us enough about what’s going on to provide the full picture. And by the same token: Don’t include irrelevant details that muddy the waters and make it hard for us to figure out what your question actually is. —Michelle Herman, Care and Feeding

I personally like more details, because that’s more to work with, but the writer should be careful to identify who’s involved and keep the dramatis personae straight. Sometimes I’d read one and be like “Who did what now?” when the cast of characters gets robust! For that same reason, chronological order helps a lot!  —Rebecca Onion, editor

Include your age. It helps to know whether you’re 15 or 65 when it comes to your dating and friendship dilemmas. If you’re going to say someone was “abusive” give us a few details. Show, don’t tell! I want to know if I’m dealing with physical violence or, like, not returning text messages in a timely manner. When you start off your letter about a huge relationship problem by saying the relationship as a whole is “great,” can you explain that? Otherwise, I’m going to have a hard time believing it. —Jenée Desmond-Harris

It can be really important to include your age in your letter, especially if you’re asking for relationship advice. I learned this from listening to Dear Shandy, a podcast hosted by Bachelor alum Sharleen Joynt and her husband. There are so, so many facets to any given relationship issue beyond age, but letting the advice-giver know roughly how old you are (and what stage of life you’re in) can help them tailor their answer to you. For example, if you’re writing to a podcast to ask if you should dump your partner and you’re 20—honestly, you probably should! —Shannon Palus

I appreciate when someone has really worked through the issue, eliminating all obvious potential answers to their problem. The more specific they can get, the easier it is to help them. —Rich Juzwiak, How to Do It

There is nothing worse than someone writing in with a specific problem around, let’s say, a fantasy, a habit, a hobby, etc., and not naming the specific thing they are trying to get help for. Don’t be shy. Tell us! —Paola de Varona, editor

A big advice pet peeve? Letter writers who are more preoccupied with making themselves the moral winners than actually getting help. People are messy—don’t pretend you’re not.

I don’t expect people to conceal their opinions or agendas—you’re entitled to them! We all have them!—but often there will be a letter that is really just one long argument for the LW’s point. Sometimes there’s not even a question attached. I think the best letters come from those earnestly seeking another point of view, not just affirmation of their own wants or biases. —Nicole Chung, Care and Feeding

Don’t try to make yourself look good! The best letters are the ones where the writer admits to being a little bit messy. We all are. The beauty of the advice genre is that it’s on full display. —Shannon Palus

Ultimately, columnists don’t always have all the answers. That’s OK! Think before you send. Would someone need a law degree, a finance degree, a medical degree, or some other form of specialized education to be able to parse your entanglements? Perhaps look elsewhere.

Sometimes I won’t take a question because the problem seems too far outside my purview. When you write to an advice column, you’re not seeking professional advice—you’re asking for a thoughtful and honest outside perspective. If you need help with a legal matter, you should really talk to a lawyer; if it’s a medical issue, consult a doctor, etc. (We’re also really not here to confirm your armchair psychiatric diagnoses!) —Nicole Chung

If you’re feeling generous, throw us a bone. Not sure about an “unspoken” rule of polite society? Aren’t sure if a tall glass of milk on dates is an acceptable drink order? Please, let us weigh in.

I like to think that I’m immune to flattery BUT nothing puts a fire under my ass like someone who says that they already read the column and have learned from it. That just makes me a deeper responsibility not to let them down. Also, uniqueness, I think, is good for everyone, including me and the readers. Yes, I will help answer your dead-bedroom question, even if it’s the 10,000th we received, but novelty keeps the column fresh and it means that I may get to learn something in the process, which I appreciate selfishly. One for you, one for me. —Rich Juzwiak

Most advice letter writers are advice readers. And that means you know what we want. Give us the good stuff. Snorting your boyfriend’s semen? Write to us immediately. —Jeffrey Bloomer, editor

One thing that makes a letter attractive to me is a sense of humor or self-deprecation. Because isn’t parenting ridiculous? And aren’t children, in-laws, parents, family pets, and the kitchen sink just THE WORST? Truly, we get a lot of serious letters, and those are important to reply to. But I also love replying to a letter where it’s clear the writer isn’t taking themselves too seriously, even if they are really struggling with a problem. —Allison Price