Writers often find themselves in the position of learning new stuff. I can’t tell you how many times over the years I’ve said, “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” Or “I’m in over my head this time.” People who hire writers think we have magical powers to absorb industry lingo, technical data and politics and deliver dynamic, clear copy.
Yeah, maybe.
This was especially true when I freelanced for the telecom industry and had editorial dominion over a “resystemization newsletter”; the company was retooling all its software for the year 2000 and I got to write about it. And write about it. And write about it. Here’s a sample of my work: “When an application enters beta testing, it is tested in a controlled lab environment where software, hardware connections, database interfaces, hands-on user performance and developer trouble-shooting are tested together. During system integration testing, the application is stress tested and checked for overall system compatibility.”
I wanted to disembowel myself.
I recently wrote about a military family where I got completely flumoxed by the 21st battalion air squad this or the 101st brigade and division that and is a major a bigger deal than a captain—I should’ve remembered from “MASH,” huh?—and is Tikrit south of Mosul which is North of Baghdad and is it Ali al something air base in Iraq or Kuwait and let’s not even discuss the acronyms.
So now I want to design a sweater or two and have no idea where to begin. I love the Knitware software, but really need to figure out how to do it more organically. Is every set-in sleeve same? Surely not, that would be too easy. And how do necklines change if an armpit changes? Do you just measure old sweaters and do the math? And how do you handle sizing? And where does one go to learn? Then how do you “draw” schematics electronically? Does Microsoft Publisher do that?
Anyway, just askin’, 'cause I don't know what the hell I'm doing.