What a quarter century of writing and editing has taught me

 Image by Hannah Olinger for Unsplash

As with all writing, this one began with a blank space. Or rather, with the vast expanse of creative possibility represented by this seemingly “endless page”. (Thank you, Internet, for that.)

Now there are two ways I can do this, the sharing of my experience as a writer-editor for over 25 years. The more obvious and cliched one would be to pen down (key in, actually) the lessons I’ve learned and package them as a listicle: 10 Extraordinary lessons I learned in 25 years of career. Or some such.

This would please a lot of folks and probably fit the bill when it comes to getting the eyeballs and ticking some boxes in search engine optimization.

But hell, no. To be honest, I’ve done my unfair share of writing listicles. And yet, I thought that twenty-flickin’-five years is a pretty long time to be a little more indulgent. A bit reminiscing, perhaps. And a lot more forthcoming certainly.

So this one is a trip down the memory lane combined with fragments of learnings—woven, I hope, with the kind of warp and weft that will keep you interested. Shoot and scoot if you find me boring!

Here goes...

I got my first real job as a copy editor while I was awaiting the results of my postgraduate journalism course. My LinkedIn profile doesn’t mention that company, nor do I intend to name it here (we can take that offline, right?) But I did cut some of my teeth doing industrial-strength editing at this publishing firm. Those were the days of marking copy on paper and then handing it over to a computer operator for corrections. Girl, was I proud of my prowess with editing symbols! (The symbol for deletion was shaped like a ‘d’ with the upper edge slightly hooked; spacing out two wrongly joined letters of the alphabet was the job of a zigzag line plonked in their midst; a double-looped squiggle was used to interchange two letters or words; and so on.)

What gave me a great platform for learning and early boasting rights to a big media brand, however, was DQ. That is short for Dataquest, India’s first computer magazine and, at the height of its prime, the most significant purveyor of happenings in the IT industry in this part of the world. (In those days, the DQ Top 20 parties, where the top players of the industry were feted, were attended by the Who’s Who of Indian IT such as Shiv Nadar and Dewang Mehta.)

There was a small library in one of the three basement offices occupied by Cyber Media, the parent company of DQ, in New Delhi’s Panchsheel Enclave. At that time, DQ had a licensing arrangement with BusinessWeek to republish some of the magazine’s tech articles and a printed copy of the latter was available for Cyberites to borrow and read. I would often grab a new issue of BW and, sometimes, even read it cover to cover, in addition to marking out which article to pick for republishing in the upcoming edition of DQ.

No offence to the DQ writers of those times (by the way, I also wrote occasionally even though my primary role was to edit), but I was in thrall of BW for the magazine’s clarity, clever expressions, and tight editing. For one, I still remember this headline of theirs for an article analyzing AT&T’s choice of an external exec to head the telecom giant. It said: Why AT&T Made An Outside Call.

There was another magazine that I began to greatly admire (just like a lot of journalists do, I believe): The Economist. Curiously, the magazine loves to call itself a paper. But it writes with amazing panache and, often, with what I call “pleasantly irritating” sarcasm—pleasant for the general reader but irksome for the object of their ridicule.

In those days, CNET’s News.com and Wired used to be my go-to sources for all things tech. Now, of course, you have a much wider swathe of media covering tech and much else.

“The more you read, the more you get to learn about great writing” became my personal mantra. I was already “into books”; magazines and websites added more fodder to the fuel that kept me going. Some of the books that have stayed in my heart and mind after all these years: The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway, Talks on the Gita by Vinoba Bhave, Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse, The Outsider by Albert Camus, Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, and The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. (For my recent tribute to reading, do check out Why We Love Reading Books.)

Another mantra I have come to live by is that you must first learn the rules before you try to break them—and break them you must, once in a while, to get rid of monotony and keep things from becoming too straight-jacketed. For instance, they tell you in grammar class that you shouldn’t end a sentence with a preposition or begin one with a conjunction. But that’s not always true and not something everyone should stick to.

More than the rules of the language, it is what you say and how you say it that matter.

Along the circuitous route of my career, which saw more job switches than many HR pros would recommend, I realized the power and importance of editing. Indeed I was drawn equally to writing and editing. The majority of people working in media are either characterized as writers or editors; only a select few get to be both. I’ve been fortunate and happy to wear these two hats, often simultaneously—despite owning only one head at all times.

Initially, I was hesitant to edit or rewrite somebody else’s copy. How could I be sure of what exactly they meant by something? What if I delete some important parts from the story? Have I really enhanced what was already written? All sorts of doubts used to crop up in my mind.

So I began with careful cuts on the surface. Before long, however, I was making deep gashes. Also, I was reshuffling paragraphs, reviving dead sentences, and adding some flourishes here and there.

I remember that, when such “shenanigans” on my part as a copy editor began, a couple of writers at DQ (and, later, at other media houses I worked with) were really cross with me. They thought I had “murdered” their copy with those gashes and rearrangements, whereas, in reality, I only tried to make their words sing when they were barely speaking. It took some convincing and better reviews of “their writing” by neutral readers to turn the tide in my favor. And you know what? After a while, instead of complaining, they used to specifically request me to edit and polish their stories. Talk about happiness.

In hindsight, I think what has made me a bit successful as an editing professional is the ability to get under the skin of the writer and stay curious about what is being conveyed (in order to fact-check or cross-check, add more “meat”, etc.). You need to be empathetic to both the writer and the reader to be able to do justice to the editing job at hand.

Over the years, I worked with several top media houses in India, including the Times of India Group, the Indian Express Group, and the Hindustan Times Group (mostly in their tech or business publications)—taking each stint as a new learning opportunity. But I was also “daring enough” to work with dotcom startups (remember the original dotcom bubble?) and e-learning organizations. At the latter, I realized the rigor and discipline of delivering “learning content” in a project-managed setting—a far cry from the relatively lazy or haphazard way of working that journalists were often notorious for. 

Some of the work I did, especially at the e-learning startups, was so monotonous that I still shudder at the thought of it. To be fair, the memories also bring smiles for some interesting, enjoyable projects. Among the bad apples (as far as I was concerned) was a course for database administrators that required a lot of monotonous and slightly varying commands to accomplish tasks related to configuring and managing databases. I used to wonder whether DBAs found their jobs as boring as I did mine, checking whether the description of “Do this to do that” was correct or not. All the same, courses on Lean Six Sigma and teaching computers to youngsters in a fun way added moments of relief and even pleasure.

Which brings me to another guiding principle: one must persevere to see something through. Some tasks, even in something that sounds as interesting as writing, can be quite mundane and need to be dealt with just as professionally and thoroughly.

Here, maybe a word or two is warranted about the art of interviewing, an important, nay, indispensable tool in the writer’s repertoire.

I’m particularly reminded of an interview with a senior executive of India Switch Company (ISC), which used to manage the country’s fledgling network of ATMs. For some reason, he had been avoiding being interviewed but finally agreed to give me “not more than 30 minutes”.

Now, I had been wanting to interview him for a story on Indian banks’ modernization for a reputed tech brand, InformationWeek (at that time, it was debuting in India under a tie-up with Jasubhai Digital Media). In those days, there were barely a couple of hundred ATMs (in entire India!) and his inputs as one of the key insiders were going to be quite valuable. So, I went in to meet him nonetheless, armed with all the knowledge about the state of technology deployment at Indian banks. Knowing something decently well gives you confidence, and when I shook hands with that gentleman I sensed that I could “draw him out” with a little effort.

One-and-a-half hours and a couple of cups of coffee later, I was walking out of ISC’s Dadar, Mumbai office with a lot of exciting stuff to write about. I had quizzed him with just the right questions and given a patient hearing to him (though, ironically, he was the one short on time). Having done my homework, I had enough follow-up queries as well—something that he visibly appreciated (the coffee was nice). 

Cut to my present job at Freshworks, where I landed after stints with FactorDaily and Mint. By the way, I just completed two years in this fabulous organization envisioned and propelled by a sweet, caring guy that folks here simply call G (for Girish Mathrubootham, founder and CEO). And I must say I’m happy to play a part in building and enhancing the Freshworks brand globally in the booming SaaS market (SaaS is short for Software as a Service).

I have realized that there are great stories waiting to be discovered and told everywhere: one only needs to look carefully and nourish the opportunities with diligence and love.

Over the years, besides writing on tech and business, I have also been on an inner journey of sorts—through meditation and a deep concern for the environment. While you can find some of my articles on these topics online, I would like to say something I believe is of huge significance. Not that it hasn’t been said before or that a relatively less known writer like me can say it loud enough. But I just can’t leave it unsaid now that I have opened up pretty much.

If there’s one thing the ongoing coronavirus pandemic has taught us, it’s the message that healing is needed super urgently. What we must not forget, however, is that this healing is not only for human beings—even though we may happen to sit atop the species hierarchy—but for the entire planet.

We can’t say this powerful sentence a sufficient number of times, for the luxuries of modern living seem to constantly dull our sense of hearing: THERE IS NO PLANet B.

I know, I know...the ‘Musk’eteers out there are already pointing their cursors (or is it curses?) at me, pointing to their superhero’s impending plans “to colonize Mars”. And Mars, they will tell you, is a planet. (Well, so was Pluto, once upon a time...LOL.)

But seriously, we are running out of time to successfully colonize our neighbors for the majority of the “hooman race” to survive. You don’t have to take my word for it: just look at the recent cataclysmic weather events and some climate change studies if you wish.

Since this post is mostly about writing and editing, let me bring it to a close with these pressing words from a book I’m reading currently: The Future We Choose by Christiana Figueres (former UN Secretary for Climate Change) and Tom Rivett-Carnac (senior political strategist for the Paris Agreement):-

{We are already too far down the road of destruction to be able to ‘solve’ climate change. The atmosphere is by now too loaded with greenhouse gases and the biosphere too altered for us to be able to turn the clock back on global warming and its effects. We, and all our descendants, will live in a world with environmental conditions that are permanently altered. We cannot bring back the extinct species, the melted glaciers, the dead coral reefs, or the destroyed primary forests. The best we can do is keep the changes within a manageable range, staving off total calamity, preventing the disaster that will result from the unchecked rise of emissions. This, at least, might usher us out of the crisis mode. It is the bare minimum that we must do.

But we can also do much more.} 

As a parting remark, I think we can have a couple of billionaires indulge their appetite for space travel and colonization (which may turn out to be good for the very, very long term). But unless a majority of governments and entrepreneurs (tech or otherwise, who like to be called problem-solvers) put a laser-sharp focus on what Christiana and Tom say, most of us will just watch the spectacle of shooting a handful of rockets, escaping not only “the velocity” but a life of misery on the most beautiful planet there is. For much of humanity, there won’t be any escape route.

Humble request: please take the parting shot not as a doomsday lament but as a vaccine for hopeful action. That’s it for now.

Stay safe, stay hopeful, stay motivated and interested.

Thank you for reading. 

5 Mistakes PR Pros Must Avoid but Often Don't

Ever wonder why your communication wasn't well-received in the media? It might have misfired because you failed to avoid one of these traps

Public relations is a tricky, often thankless business. While the tricky part is acknowledged by the PR pros, it is the journalists who often bring in thanklessness (add ungrateful clients, too).

But it's a business – and a lucrative one at that, all right. So it wouldn't hurt to go through some tips that might help.

In communication schools or on-the-job, most PR executives learn the common tricks of their trade: treat clients (and journalists) with respect, always spell-check your releases (do you?), and yes, don't forget to bill clients for the out-of-pocket expenses.

Yet, there are also some no-nos that a seasoned PR exec should avoid under most circumstances. Unfortunately, in the hurly-burly world of 'mass' communication, things are prone to turn out into 'mess' communication. That's why it's important for a PR pro to keep in mind these five don'ts when communicating with journalists:

Long-winding story pitches: In the course of writing their stories, journalists often go through a lot of background and research material. But they would rather look at a lot of text about a story they have chosen to do than read paras upon paras intended to give them a story idea. So keep your pitch mailers or calls short and sweet. If the journo likes it, they'll jump at it anyway. But if it doesn't cut ice in the first couple of sentences, don't bore him with dense details, please.

Mixing up similar media: The media scene today is crowded. But that's no excuse for calling up a journalist and mixing up the name of their media house or publication with another one – which, annoyingly, usually happens to be a key rival. Get the journo's name, their paper's name and, if necessary, the name of their dog right. Names are important, very important (as you sometimes might have realized when your client's name appeared misspelled in the headline!)

Corralling journalists for a conference: “You must come.” “Please, it's the most important event for our client!” “The client is holding this PC (press conference) after a gap of two years.”

Understood. Your client and their conference is all-important to you. But unless you can find something of relevance to the journalist in question, it's not good practice to request-force them into attending the event. Even if you send the cab. In any case, most communication today happens on the phone or over email, and journalists (especially experienced ones) usually attend only the really significant conferences or those where they expect to network with lots of friends or industry execs.

Following up too much: If not following up at all is a disaster, pestering the journalist with too many calls for a press release or a story is anathema. Too much aggression can perhaps get you in the first time, but the media will be alerted to your tactics sooner rather than later. And then? Then they'll avoid you like a diabetic shuns sugar. So learn to strike a balance in how much you follow up.

Hiding the negative: Thanks to the Internet, it's not that difficult to discover skeletons in a company's cupboard (and these days there are many). Then there are journalists' contacts and other 'sources.' So if you happen to know that a journalist has gotten wind of something fishy or negative about your client, try to illuminate it in the light that your client wants to. Trying to hide it or cover it up with fluff usually makes the journalist more dogged in their pursuit – and, of course, leaves a worse impression than they started off with.

Needless to say, these aren't the only don'ts. For instance, you shouldn't miss a journalist's story deadline if you want to ensure that your client's inputs are taken or their name mentioned where it matters. But the above are points that keep recurring in PR-media communication and that often harm your efforts behind-the-scenes rather than upfront. For want of caution, don't let your key messages go wasted.