"I don't like to write; I don't enjoy it," our young co-worker said. "I'm happier when I'm finished writing."
My boss was the best writer at the newspaper, and I was pretty good. We looked at each other and smiled broadly.
Neither of us said it, but we both felt sorry for our young friend. I enjoyed the process of writing, then got a kick out of editing it, making it better. I probably felt most alive when I was writing. Our boss wasn't big into self-editing, but you could see the joy while he was writing. It looked like he was conducting a symphony. Maybe he was.
I don't know what happened to our young friend. He wasn't a born journalist, just a fellow doing a job. My boss and me? We were born to do exactly what we were doing. He was a terrific writer. I was a good writer and a terrific editor.
Even in our "old" age — we're both above retirement age — I doubt that either of us has changed.
Contact: I can be reached at tgilli52@gmail.com or nc3022@yahoo.com. Also, my Twitter handle is EDITORatWORK.
More EDITOR@WORK blog entries
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