What kind of writer are you?

Recent experience has borne out my theory that there are two kinds of writers, much as there are two kinds of artists and two kinds of musicians: those who create at the behest of others and those who create for themselves. Let's call them the Construction Workers and the Auteurs.

Perhaps because writing is such a solitary craft, the Writer as Auteur is society's paradigm for us. And there are probably few for whom the potential celebrity of writing holds no appeal whatsoever.

 But we freelance speechwriters toil mostly in the Worker trenches, writing because we feel compelled and excited to contribute our craft in service of another objective, and meeting that objective is why we're in the game. We enjoy being part of a team that's building something together.

A friend recently recounted a very arduous process of writing, rewriting, constant feedback and re-direction on a speech for a new client. While many would find this process arduous and downright distasteful, my friend actually appreciated the chance to revise and improve work that wasn't yet as good as it could be.

I agree that this kind of feedback loop can be killer, and with every round of revision there's another opportunity for some idiot to stumble in and totally screw things up. But in a collaborative endeavor, you try to stay open to that input and recognize when it has real value.

I tend to be someone who kind of enjoys slogging through this process IF I know that I'm on a competent team working toward a unified and admirable goal. And, of course, if the process doesn't continue indefinitely.

But what's the tipping point? How do you know when to switch from your Worker's hardhat back to your Auteur beret? When is enough enough?

In my experience as a freelance speechwriter, if all you're doing is the Hokey Pokey, it's time to stop the music. You need to lead your client forward in a new direction. After all, the reason things are stuck in a rut is because something's not working. People are looking for a solution, and you're the professional that's been charged with creating one. That's when your solo vision can save you and the project.

Of course, it can also get you fired. Such is life.

It's a balance, this delicate tension between self and service. Trying to keep that balance is part of what makes the speechwriting business so much fun.

Comments

[Cindy Starks]

Allison - This is a really excellent post. The balance is definitely a challenge. Thanks!

[John David Powell]

I've written literally hundreds of speeches of varying lengths for a variety of occasions as a full-time executive speech writer and as a freelancer. It all comes down to providing what the boss or client wants, regardless of one's personal feelings.

One public university system chancellor/university president expected me to provide speeches requiring little to no revisions; his was the final draft. In other words: my draft, his final. To get there often required input from others, but only input and not rewrites.

Another president spat upon prepared remarks. He spent, by his own estimate, about half of his working day looking for jokes. He directed me to spend all of my time on the humor hunt to allow him to spend more time on other, similar, diversions. Must have worked, because he's now head of a major research university in the southeast.

Then, at the other end was a president at another university who required draft reviews by an assortment individuals, fully expecting each person to rewrite portions, if not the entire speech. It was a painfully arduous process. I did that gig as a favor, but never did it again.

The only way I got through that last assignment was by continually reminding myself that I did not own the speech, that I was just the person picked to spin straw into the gold owned by someone else. My reward (besides a nice paycheck) was to stand at the back of the room and watch the audience reaction.