It’s been a long time since I’ve raised my head around here. A long time since I’ve gollumed into view from between dark places to appear on the “Interwebs”. It’s only because I’ve been editing.
It’s writing that gets all the glory.
The problem behind marketing great editing is how to show you all something that’ll prove how awesome I am. I can’t. I shouldn’t. I wouldn’t.
The last thing any client wants is for me to use their rough drafts as examples to prove how great I am, instead of how brilliant they are.
“In this public, unauthorized sharing of your roughest possible, very personal draft, the misuse of the word ‘there’ was evident in 89% of your manuscript. Oh, and there is too many instances of the word, ‘stud-licious’.”
Proving that I’d be not only a gossip but an unethical creep.
Who would hire someone like that? When even the act of asking someone to edit your work is like opening your chest and baring your heart? No one. Because it takes immense courage to bare that vulnerable place and let a stranger in without having to worry about becoming the “bad example”.
So, when it comes to provable work-pieces, I’m not sharing sh*t.
I’m not, by any means, suggesting that sharing is common in this field. At all. I’m only explaining that there is meat behind the flashy smell. A good explanation for not having been producing what all the how-to blogs demand, “write, write, write!” Someone’s got to clean up all the pencil shavings.
Good writing doesn’t usually come out great by magic. Good editing is essential to great writing and best done by someone who isn’t you. I’m that not-you. Try me.
Molotov Ink is alive and well. Contact me any time.
Tight lips, no judging.