There’s a strange thing I’ve noticed for years, and that is that people often don’t know what I do. Or if they think they do, they get it wrong. Wildly wrong. I tell them I write for a living: content of every kind, blogs, ghostwriting, features, PR, sometimes scripts or thought leadership pieces, and much more — and their eyes glaze over. Or they ask, “So you write books?” Or, “For a newspaper and magazines?” (sometimes I do). Or my favorite: “Oh, can you write something for my website (for free, of course)?”
Most people outside the creative world don’t realize that everything they read—on websites, brochures, magazines, social media, menus, instruction manuals, ad campaigns, you name it —was written and edited by someone, even in these days of AI. A real person, or people, fact-checked, ensured it flowed well, and made final edits and proofread the document before it went public. This often happens under a tight deadline, especially after the client changes direction three times and thinks each change will take five minutes and is no trouble. Well, it’s no trouble and part of my job when it’s reasonable, but when you go back and forth fourteen times (yes, I counted with one client/friend that I walked away from) because they can’t make up their minds, it’s infuriating. I learned from that experience years ago and now deliver a Project Intake Template to them, and I don’t work unless the client fills it out. Once I have that, I send a detailed quote and don’t care if it’s a friend or someone else.
It doesn’t matter if it’s a 2,500-word feature, a social media post, or a five-word tagline. It took time and thought. It took someone staring at a blank screen and making it say something clear, useful, and compelling.
The public sees the finished product that did not, repeat, did not, magically appear on the page without work involved. They don’t see the drafts, the rewrites and the feedback loop that often includes more people than the client said it would, and the customer who loved one draft, font, or design yesterday but now hates it. The public doesn’t realize that you can’t just “whip something up and work your magic” in five minutes. Not if you want quality. They don’t realize that changing one portion of a piece may require adjustments elsewhere to ensure it still flows. To the outside world, it just exists. No process. No people. Just words and pictures in print or online – or both.
And I’ve learned this isn’t just my experience; it’s nearly universal among creatives. Photographers, designers, editors, illustrators, voiceover artists, screenwriters—you name it. We’re all quietly building the things people scroll past, skip through, or print out without a second thought.
It’s not that we need applause. But a little awareness wouldn’t hurt because anyone can write—sure. But few can write well. Fewer still can do it consistently, daily, under client pressure, under deadline pressure, in someone else’s voice, and make it sound effortless. So the next time you read something that makes you think, smile, act, or understand? Remember that someone had to write that.
