Sunday, 1 April 2012

No Love Lost

I do some work for an older chap who's trying to break into writing. We met at the pub a few months ago and got talking about our work. He suggested we form a partnership, and I agreed since it sounded like he had some connections in publishing I could use, and he said he's critique my work. Sounds good.

Only he didn't  want to work that way, and it quickly became apparent that I was being used for ego polishing purposes. I'm a young person, what do I have to know about writing, of course I've haven't lived for nearly long enough to  have anything good to say, let alone even be able to produce anything worth while. Needles to say our opinion about each other's writing is mutual and the only thing we have in common. 

It comes down to this, it's for the money. He pays me to type up some of his work and offer some criticism (but only what he wants to hear, but hey, I'm happy to say that for a bit of petrol money.) It's a good learning curve for when I get a job, the boss wants my opinion, but only the one he wants. I'm actually good at biting my tongue, I'm the perfect daughter to a father who likes only to hear his own voice. 

There are days I feel like hacking his website and putting up a link to something less than tasteful. I might only be a typing assistant, but my CV says I've been a mentor to a new poet for several months now. The job of a writer is to twist the truth and words, is it not?

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