Lanced

I should have known. I even mentioned it, recently, in fact. Rule 14: “If it looks or sounds too good to be true, it probably is,” and Rule 7: “Danger always strikes when everything seems safe.”

The only word I have to describe my mood right now is crestfallen. For the first time in a rather long time, I was actually excited and proud of something. I spent an inordinate amount of time working on fine details and combining through every facet to ensure that the thing I turned in had no mistakes, no ambiguities, no rules bent or broken. When I was finished, I was confident that I had done a really good job. Peers of mine I greatly respect and look up to were impressed with what I had done – something that meant even more than my own opinions about what I turned in…

Let me take a second to mention that I do understand that freelance work is done at the behest of another. Once you’re done writing and paid (a first for me), your words are no longer fully your own.

…But then you see the final product of your labor that received minimal feedback during development has been changed, drastically in some places. Rules are broken that you were told were absolute. Typos and questionable grammar abound in a project you lost sleep over making sure that not even a single comma was out of place in. Mechanics/numbers you wrote, following direct instructions, were changed after the fact but the supplemental material attached to what you wrote still has the original values on them, making the final product look inconsistent at best and sloppy at worst.

Maybe I’m wrong. Crestfallen might not be strong enough of a descriptor for all of this.

The absolute worst part is that I don’t know if there’s anything I can do about it. I don’t even feel comfortable using this as an example of my work going forward. What the hell am I supposed to do when this releases publicly? What do I tell my family and friends? If I grumble and it gets heard, I might never get to do this kind of writing again, but at the same time am I ever going to be able to look at this, my first project, and not clench my teeth and be immediately reminded of my disappointment?

…how fucking pathetic is that? I’m having a trauma reaction to all of this.

We’re all architects of our own private hell.  No one can hurt us like we hurt ourselves.

Young Guns, “Bones”