One of the things I've become acutely aware of, as a writer, is that most of my work is never seen. And in a way, that's how it should be; after all, as far as potential agents and editors are concerned, the miniature golf course that I've constructed out of notes and previous drafts is irrelevant.
Product is what they're interested in; not process.
Can you imagine what the publishing industry would look like if it was the other way around? If all you needed was an idea and maybe some paper--preferably notated--to demonstrate effort?
"Well sir, I'd wager those 3,000 pages you've written over the past two years are worth, oh, I dunno, 60K plus royalties, give or take? Oh, and we'll want the movie rights, also."
Of course, we live in a meritocracy, where reward (to borrow from Wikipedia) is supposed match demonstrated talent and ability. The problem is, what counts as evidence? Should hard work, for example, even be taken into consideration?
Congress would like us to think so, as would most students.
"I serve the people night and day," is a popular refrain. Then again, so is "I spent all week on this."
And though the effort implied by both statements may be noteworthy, it's not necessarily indicative of quality.
Product; not process.
That's the mantra I had to repeat daily, while grading essays.
I still do, even now. Just as a reminder.
And when I look at my notes and think that they should all count for something, or see politicians on the TV and hear them complaining about how the stimulus package didn't turn out the way they wanted, I think of another saying, one that's quite fitting for our society:
"Make it Work."
