One of the hugest challenges of writing is subjectivity. And amping up the angst level of that challenge when you get paid to write are the various layers of often conflicting subjectivity.
This frequently occurs when you have multiple eyeballs providing edits both before it gets to a client and once it arrives. Person A likes it this way. Person B likes it the way you had it five edits back. Person C wants it a completely different way, a way in which neither A nor B like.
And Person D? They can’t tell you what they do or don’t like about any of it; it’s just “not working” for them. We won’t even mention People E, F and G.
Shoot me now.
It’s been one of those weeks where things I’ve written have either sailed through with minimal edits – or been picked apart like a vulture would a carcass. No happy medium. That can make for a long and frustrating workweek, occasionally tempered by a nod from the boss or a client compliment.
Amid all the frustration though, I’ve caught myself being happy. Not happy about the frustration; happy about the writing. Hit or miss, win or lose, it’s in the doing. And I love that!
Does it mean that I love everything I’m tasked with writing? Hardly. Some topics I have to tackle are drier than burnt toast while others are fun and interesting. And then there’s always the writing I do for me, here. Ah, salvation thy name is Blogger.
That doesn’t mean that I won’t threaten on occasion to give up writing, which wouldn’t be unlike suddenly declaring that I’m giving up breathing. I think we all get to the point of threatening anarchy with things and people we love at some point. That’s life.
At the height of my pain this week, my gaze was captured by something on a colleague’s wall. In a simple black frame, in aqua-colored block letters is the phrase: Do what you LOVE what you do.