I have a number of writing outlets: technical writing for my full-time job, editing a small advertiser-supported magazine, teaching college-level academic writing online part-time, and numerous freelance gigs. One of these recurring freelance jobs requires me to ghostwrite content, which means that my name does not appear in a byline, and I receive no credit for what I’ve written. Like any other writer, I take on ghostwriting jobs for the money, and yet I find myself rereading the content I ghostwrote once it is published.
It starts as curiosity, just to see how my work is edited, and then, due to my own experience with editing and grammar, it quickly devolves into creating a tally of grammar, wording, and punctuation errors. I find myself thinking, “Did I accidentally create a sentence fragment?” and then I look up my original document, only to find that it was grammatically correct when I submitted it. You might think this vindication would be enough, but no – I find myself exasperated with the way the content was handled, considering tactful ways to email someone in charge about these gaffs. To be fair, there sometimes are edits made that clarify meaning, and I’m all for that. Written communication is tricky and easily misinterpreted. I’m far from perfect and make mistakes, too. What bothers me is that the content I worked on so carefully, edited so fully, vetted so prudently is now potentially less effective, and – dare I say it? – doesn’t reflect the skill with which it was written.
This brings me back to my original point: my name is not on a byline. I received payment for what I submitted, and my responsibilities for creating a professional piece ended with that submission. The published piece is not mine; I sold it to someone else to do whatever they wished with it.
I tell you my sad story, friends, to illustrate that trying to control something that is not your responsibility is a waste of time and good energy. In my case, the time I spent rereading the published content and doublechecking what I submitted could have been used to do other work or read something for pleasure. I could have watched TV and relaxed; instead, I ruminated about the errors in something that were not my responsibility. Ghostwriting, like lots of other aspects of life, requires you to let go of outcomes and focus on the process of creating the best thing you can. And from there, you must set it free.
Photo courtesy of Kuhlens Photography.