An honest approach to my writing

Do I really know anything about writing? I mean: sure, I make a living putting words on screens for clients, but does that make me a competent—much less excellent—writer?*

To answer this, let’s look at what I’m comparing myself to:

I have a client who shops the more “creative” work they have out to me. This is a technical writing company with serious props when it comes to editing and cohesive communication. What I get back, when I submit work to them, is a largely red, reworked piece. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the red is legitimate, and the piece is all the better for it. 

Clearly, they know a thing or two about writing—and even what an emm dash is for—but does their excellence demote my sophomoric attempts? Is their proof damning my evidence? Indeed, the edits I receive could be the nail in the coffin of my writerly hopes. 

But one thing keeps nagging me: They keep on hiring me. 

Second point: I teach writing to art students. Some may say this is a clear sign that I know what I’m doing. After all, those who can… (or was it can’t?) Anyway, the point is, I build curriculum that several students and colleagues have told me is revolutionary in getting artists to form ideas in text. One could argue this is a true test of one’s knowledge; to communicate the idea well enough to educate another. But I continually read those books on writing and, wouldn’t you know it? I learn something new on every single dang page! 

I don't need yo skills

Writing, as I’ve come to know it, is one of those “life skills” everyone is always going on about. And, of course, by that I mean “a skill that will take your life to understand it.” Both figuratively and literally, by some measures. My back is hunched, my eyesight poor, and my fingers numb—all because I spend my days pecking at keys. If I don’t die soon, it’ll be only because the words I’ve written aren’t amounting to enough.

I can say unironically: that I know where a preposition lives, that I can canter across alliterative areas in printed paragraphs, and that I unequivocally side with the Oxford comma. And, if you read that sentence with some perspicacity, you’ll also see I can adroitly use big words and stuff. 

So, it comes to this: do I really know anything about writing? Well, the truth is, after five years of feeding my family on the proceeds obtained by spewing words all over pages, I know for a fact that I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.

 *don't answer that.