The good thing about being a writer is…

Lately I’ve been working on a writing project for a US-based transportation company. I severely, and I mean SEVERELY, underquoted this.

What I thought might take 2-3 hours per blog post is taking more like 5-8. And there are upwards of 50 posts. Each time I start a new one, I have to actively run through a mental checklist of the benefits I’m receiving from this project because I’ll otherwise go crazy with regret knowing that the compensation should be (quite accurately) 5 times what I quoted.

(If you’re thinking “wait, those numbers don’t work”, I underquoted initially because I like this client a lot.)

I take solace in the fact that this is of my own doing. I was in control of setting the price, and I am in control of my emotions regarding it.

Thank the LAWD that I’m having fun writing it. It’s a compilation of various road trips you can take within the USA at different times of year and the oftentimes-quirky things you can do there. (Did you know there is a garden of bronze statues dedicated to the various Dr. Suess characters? It’s located in Springfield, Mass. GAME CHANGER AM I RIGHT?)

I also learned how to make an EM dash — and — now — I — sprinkle — them — into — almost — everything — I — write.

So while I might not be making what I want to make, at least I’m not writing about, say, dental equipment (I did. Actually, it was quite interesting).

For me, the good thing about being a writer is you’re always learning. At the same time, the bad thing about being a writer is you’re always forgetting what you’ve learned.

As you widen your repertoire of content, the centers of your brain that file all of the information get pushed to the dark corners of semi-non-existence.

Sometimes you’re triggered to reopen those long lost files, like when playing a competitive round of trivia, and your team is asked something along the lines of “Where was president Lincoln born?” and you’re like OH SNAP — I KNOW THE ANSWER! And everyone’s mouth is agape at your seemingly infinite knowledge of obscure facts that contribute absolutely nothing to your life unless you’re a Jeopardy contestant.

Other times those files stay shut forever, and even when a prompt comes along and you know the memory is floating in the abyss, you can’t seem to access it and are forced to opt, instead, for Google.

But I do think that we humans have a powerful ability to remember what’s critically important, especially when it’s an experience that we’ve actually lived.

I may, one day, forget where to cash in on free ice skating over Presidents’ Day weekend (Boston Common Frog Pond). I will not, however, forget to read thoroughly every proposal I’m given to ensure that I set an appropriate rate for my services.

All that’s to say, you can find the positive in everything, if you really try.

(Aforementioned USA road trips. If you’re interested.)

With love,

Bethany