interchange

95:365

Exhausted tonight. My British boss is visiting from France. He's a sales and ops guy who f*cked up his responsibilities in South Africa 3 years ago, and since the French can't fire anyone he was made head of global communications as it was thought that's where he'd do the least damage.

Today we spent 30 minutes arguing about whether a press release I had written on behalf of a VP was "too long." This from the man whose writing I routinely have to tighten up, removing all the "in order to"s and redundancies.

Now, I can take criticism on my writing. It's one of the first things they drill into students at The World's Finest School of Journalism. But the criticism has to be valid. Not "it's too long." Press release effectiveness is NOT determined by length. It's determined by CONTENT. And legibility.

I'm reminded of the scene in Amadeus where the king, after listening to one of Mozart's beautiful compositions, pronounces that it's nice but a little too long. "Your work is ingenious. It's quality work. And there are simply too many notes, that's all. Just cut a few and it will be perfect."

No, I'm not saying I'm the Mozart of press releases. I'm just pointing out the absurdity of working for someone who hasn't a freakin' clue how to do his own job, much less mine. (BTW the sections he clipped from my release were data points the VP - who is a brilliant business man - specifically requested. When I pointed that out to my boss, he admitted he hadn't bothered to read the email from the VP. Nothing like editing without all the information at hand.)

I have worked three 12-hour days in a row, and a 9-hour session from hell lurks on the morrow before I'm allowed to drop the jackass off at the KC airport and drive the four hours home.

And thus, I find myself at an interchange in my career. (Had to tie this post to the photo somehow!) Stay tuned, my friends. I've got a different destination plugged into my iPhone map app and the blinker is on...