Besides writing mystery novels, I also have a “day job” as a freelance copywriter.

Perhaps one of the cosmic laws of writing as a profession is that the byline/pay ratio is inverse. I get a credit for writing my novels and columns, but modest pay. On the other hand, my copywriting goes uncredited… but my pay is more substantial.

A few weeks ago, I experienced the exception that proves the rule of that “law.” I’d just finished an article for a trade magazine, when the editor of the magazine emailed me with the following request:

“We need to run a brief bio to go with your byline. How about something like this: ‘Sharon Short, who is an expert in ______________, interviewed…’

I stared at the request, a little stunned. I’ve never, ever been given a byline/credit for the copywriting I do. How often do you pick up a brochure and see “copy by… graphic design by…” Never! Of course, this was an interview with a technical expert, but still.

I flipped through a few back copies of the magazine. Usually the brief bios go something like this: “Carrie Copywriter, who is an expert in data warehousing, interviewed…” Or, “Freddie Freelancer, an expert in retail management computer systems…”

But, I realized, I’m not an expert in… anything. I have spent my whole life being generally interested in… everything. My entire professional career has been spent writing… for my own pleasure or for pay, about companies’ services and products. Napoleon Dynamite says one must have “skillz.” Here are my real-world “skillz,” I thought:
–I make excellent beef stroganoff
–I am good at organizing large parties
–I can razzle-dazzle 5-year-olds by showing them how to make butterflies from clothespins, coffee filters and pipe-cleaners.

That last, by the way, is the only craft I never botched.

How depressing, I thought. I’m not really an expert in ANYTHING! I’ve never become a true expert in the subjects I write about. I’ve always just listened and researched and somehow translated techie ideas and concepts into language everyone else could relate to.

Plus I’ve had a few novels and stories and columns published.

So, while the rest of the world seems to have become experts in something… concrete, definable… I’ve gotten by as a writer.

And it struck me as egotistical to say I’m excellent in something that so many other people seem to be so much better at. After all, I don’t have the awards or sales to prove beyond anyone’s doubt that I’m an expert at writing. Even in the world of copywriting, I’ve never pursued the awards (and yep, there are organizations that reward copywriting, and in the world of marketing, they are just as impressive as an Agatha, Edgar, or other mystery award) that would prove my expertise.

Plus, it also struck me as silly to have a bio in a tech magazine that would read: “Freelance writer Sharon Short, an expert in freelance writing…”

So, I suggested, “Freelance writer Sharon Short, who specializes in high-tech topics, recently spoke with (name, title), to discuss…”

And the magazine editor was merry, for she had a reasonable bio and could check that to-do off her list.

But I continued to ponder the request, and my gut reaction to it.

Then, for some reason, the lines from the Neil Diamond song came to mind: “I am, I cried. I am, said I. And no one heard at all, not even the chair…”

(Has anyone figured out the role that chair plays in that song? If so, email me!)

Anyway, in my head, I modified the song (by butchering the rhythm) to be: “I am a writer, I cried…”

I do think people “hear” me as a writer. Perhaps even so does my chair, where I spend a lot of time writing and dreaming up stories and noodling over writing.

So, am I an expert in writing? Can I call myself that, really? I finally decided that, well, yeah. I guess I can.