I’ve been writing for publication on and off throughout my life. Started at 14 for a local newsletter, then a community paper (a “shopper”), then in college and beyond.
My experiences in journalism informed my attitude as a copywriter. I’ve never been afraid of editing, nor felt my words were too precious or perfect to be improved. In fact, one of the best things I’ve done (in my opinion) was a piece on a local food market for the Miami Herald, where the editor had a question about almost every paragraph I wrote. Rather than resent it, I loved it because it made me dig a little deeper and improved the article immensely.
As a marketing copywriter, I’ve dealt with advertising salespeople and managers with (as they say) varying degrees of expertise regarding copywriting. (I will have to devote a full entry to my first experience at my initial copywriting gig after I left the music biz. I still have scars from that one!)
I value a fresh set of eyes, and the experience and expertise a sharp editor brings.
One job I had a while back involved a wide variety of writing. I did everything from web copy to emails, ads, banners and signage, magazine articles, blogs — you get the idea.
Many of the things I wrote went to whoever requested them and were never seen again, at least not by me. I mean, I assume the copy I wrote for a sign at a convention was used at the event, but once it was approved, I went on to the next thing. Of course, I tried to add a bit of panache and creativity whenever possible but sometimes it wasn’t an option and that was fine. I was (and am) a pro.
The longer pieces involving a bit of research AND creativity were another matter. I really enjoyed the investigative part of it, and the interviews and data-mining, as such, were fun. And since they were almost always for internal clients, putting a sales spin on them engaged my creativity, so it wasn’t pure journalism, though it was fact-based. And since most of them were for publication — either online or in print — I was able to see the finished product.
Invariably, I’d discover that they had been rewritten. Not enhanced, corrected or amended ... just reworded. Were they improved? Clarified? Made more compelling? Nope! I even showed a few before-and-afters to colleagues ... who told me the same thing was happening to them.
I was on pretty good terms with the rewriter (a manager), and after the second or third time, I asked why they’d done it. The response was vague: “Oh, I just tightened it up,” or something to that effect. I soon gave up and went with the flow until I was let go I was laid offmy position was eliminated a couple of years later, give or take.
One of my colleagues, a person who’d been there far longer than I, said that the rewriting manager was just another dog that needed to mark its territory. No more and no less. An apt metaphor, I think.
Sometimes a cigar is just a smoke, as Freud famously didn’t say.
Originally published on Substack.




