Remember Speed? The 1994 thriller where Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock are trapped on a bus rigged to explode if it drops below 50 mph? The passengers have zero control. They’re hurtling toward disaster, and all they can do is hold on and hope.

That’s how I see most court reporters.

Their writing has been hijacked. Not by a bomb. By something worse: ignorance and complexity.

Instead of confidence, they have fear. Instead of certainty, they have doubt. Instead of control, they have white knuckles and a prayer.

The bus is barreling toward the cliff. And nobody told them they could take the wheel.

This past week, I had a brutal assignment. Nothing unusual for me—but brutal nonetheless.

A heavily accented Indian senior vice president of finance. Seven full hours on the record. Fast, relentless grilling by counsel. 430 pages when the dust settled.

Two of my best scopists—both former reporters themselves—commented on the quality of the writing they were editing. One said she wouldn’t be able to write as well on her best day what I do consistently—and under great and constant pressure.

Here’s the strange part: by the end of that day, my fatigue level was low. I wrote better as the day went on, dialing in my writing as the hours stacked up. The depo ended at 7:00 PM. I got home at 8:30 PM. The final went out shortly after.

I turned 60 this month. Seven hours of complex, fast, accented testimony should have wrecked me.

It didn’t.

A few years ago—back when I was writing Magnum Steno—that same assignment would have buried me. Crazy drops. Mental exhaustion by lunch. The kind of day that makes you question why you ever chose this profession.

What changed?

Everything.

I’m no longer ignorant of where writing and language processing actually happen in our brains.

My writing is no longer being sabotaged by massive, unnecessary complexity.

Those two shifts—understanding the science and eliminating the load—changed everything about how I experience this job.

No fear of assignments. I take the most difficult complex litigation cases in New York City. I know my realtime, roughs, and finals are in the top percentage of reporters around the country. I know that for certain about my finals—I always ask for prior transcripts. And I see poorly constructed work from well-lettered reporters who give no attention to how their transcripts actually read.

It’s all about attention to the small stuff. And they must be falling asleep.

Here’s the part where I tell you it’s all because I’m such a gifted, wonderful reporter. Naturally talented from day one. Never had to practice. Just had it.

No way. Not me.

Brains over beauty, baby.

I had to crack the code. And it took me over 30 years to do it.

Apparently, no one else has been able to do it. Not from what I’ve seen.

However, now? Instead of fear, I have confidence. Instead of exhaustion, I have energy left at the end of the day. Instead of drops and confusion, I have clean realtime and transcripts I’m proud of.

The bus isn’t hijacked anymore. I’m driving.

Check out my website at brevitysteno.com and the book that teaches my writing technique, BREVITY: Write Simply.

If you get a chance, let me know what you think.