• writers new to structured authoring are spared the tedium (and the accompanying freak-out factor) of doing it themselves as they update the files.
• Localization can do their job without too much of a hassle.

But you know, for all the tedium of this structured authoring stuff, I’m rather digging it. Perhaps content architecting is in my future?

*heavy sigh*

Topic that wouldn’t die, indeed….more like, it’s the gross misunderstanding that refuses to die.

I shouldn’t be surprised. Misinterpretation is way more sexy, after all. But here’s the thing:

There are tech writers in the world who so pride themselves on their mad wordsmithing skillz that they can barely tolerate a bare hint of word misusage, by anyone. They get all twisted up like the Tasmanian Devil as they attempt to educate the offending speaker, often using the most condescending tone possible.

So, one might guess that tech writers in general are perhaps more mindful than the Average Joe of the words they use. But that guess would only be partially correct. One cannot be very mindful of words if one’s understanding of them is flawed.

And that’s what’s at the core of this “Is tech writing boring” conversation: a flawed understanding of words.

Yeah, the headline is sexy enough. It does a wonderful job of triggering the insecurity of those practitioners who are disposed to such feelings. And the conversation itself provides a fairly interesting examination of what individual practitioners get out of tech writing.

But it’s still a flawed conversation because it doesn’t discuss the real issue, which is (for the last f***ing time):

Talking about technical writing is boring.

And if you’ve been around other tech writers for any length of time, you know how little room for misinterpretation there actually is. To be completely and utterly frank, talking with other tech writers about the profession of tech writing is like participating in a verbal Caucus Race. You talk about the same things, with no end in sight. Just endless arguments that go nowhere so bloody fast I get dizzy in seconds and have to go take a nap. We’re either kvetching up a Category 5 storm or we’re patting ourselves on the back for being user advocates and mastering Word’s programmed idiocy.

The leap made from this statement to “is tech writing boring” makes me shake my head and sigh. Why? Because it’s a leap too easily and too eagerly made by those in our profession. Saying “if talking about tech writing is boring, then tech writing must be boring” represents an error in reasoning. For being so picky about single words, too many tech writers are not nearly as picky about thinking. Really, the whole mess just underscores how pointless it can be to talk to tech writers about anything, much less tech writing.

But as they say, life is like that. Talking about my job may be boring as hell, but I suppose having to listen to the discussion is a small price to pay for actually getting to do it. And I do enjoy actually doing my job. I don’t do it because I have an underinflated sense of self. I don’t do it so I can have something to bitch about. I don’t do it so I can play with computer stuff (that’s a bonus). And I certainly don’t do it so I can come into daily contact with people who can’t be bothered to play nice on a project.

I’m a tech writer because I solve problems with words. It’s the best intersection I’ve been able to find for my creativity, my analytical abilities, my drive, my compulsion to learn, etc. And all those things which make me one of the coolest people on the planet to know, I can employ them every day when I go into work. I don’t have to leave any bit of myself behind when I walk in the door. I don’t have to pretend I’m something else just to keep money coming in.

So, yeah, talking about tech writing is boring. Because actually doing it is much more fun and a hell of a lot more productive.

I hear ya, Will. By all the gods, do I hear you.

I came across something like this when I trekked westward to spend a week with my parents and brother for Christmas.

My second day in town, a friend of my parents invited us all to their holiday party that they hold for friends and business associates. Nice. So, about a half hour into arriving, I struck up a conversation with Someone (can’t remember the name) and His Wife, and when it came to the “what do you do” part, I told the truth.

Me: I’m a technical writer at a software company.

He: Oh. I don’t like you already.

Me: Well, GREAT! That’s really good to hear.

She: (confused but trying to be polite) Yes, well, I suppose if you like that sort of thing, it could be enjoyable.

He: I hate manuals. I never read them and I tell all my employees to ignore them because they’re never right.

Me: Well, you know, few people actually read them. That’s one reason why a lot of companies don’t bother to spend the money to make good ones. You know, hiring people who know what they’re doing, etc. I don’t blame you for ignoring them, really. It’s probably more cost-effective for you to hire a consultant to train everyone.

(Of course, to an entrepreneurial good-ole-boy like this guy, “consultant” is only marginally dirtier than “software manual.”)

And then they turned and left to talk to someone presumably more important. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. I also couldn’t help but think about what’s worse: a stick-up-the-ass tech writer, or a similarly disposed business exec?

I figured they deserve each other. But still, that’s what comprises the tech writing landscape, and it’s more than a little chilling to behold.

So, remind me again, why in the *hell* would anyone want to be a tech writer *now*?

A tech writer tries to prevent others from making the same mistake he did: becoming a technical writer.

Another good read from Fast Company, counting all the ways in which corporate personnel departments are failing.

Toward the end of the article:

In the meantime, economic natural selection is, in a way, taking care of the problem for us. Some 94% of large employers surveyed this year by Hewitt Associates reported they were outsourcing at least one human-resources activity. By 2008, according to the survey, many plan to expand outsourcing to include activities such as learning and development, payroll, recruiting, health and welfare, and global mobility.

Which is to say, they will farm out pretty much everything HR does. The happy rhetoric from the HR world says this is all for the best: Outsourcing the administrative minutiae, after all, would allow human-resources professionals to focus on more important stuff that’s central to the business. You know, being strategic partners.

The problem, if you’re an HR person, is this: The tasks companies are outsourcing — the administrivia — tend to be what you’re good at. And what’s left isn’t exactly your strong suit. Human resources is crippled by what Jay Jamrog, executive director of the Human Resource Institute, calls “educated incapacity: You’re smart, and you know the way you’re working today isn’t going to hold 10 years from now. But you can’t move to that level. You’re stuck.”

Hmmm….sounds familiar to us tech writers, doesn’t it?

Tech writers lately like to talk about what a benefit a formal certification would be (e.g., increasing documentation quality, ensuring employers hired qualified professionals, etc.) Well, the Human Resources profession has had their certification for years, and if the Fast Company article is to be believed, then it hasn’t made one lick of practical difference. Certification doesn’t prevent professional idiocy.

Tech writers also like to talk about protecting the profession (usually thru certification) from corporate bottom-liners who just want to outsource every single non-executive function, but most especially tech writing, to outside firms. Doesn’t seem to have helped the HR staffers who were career paper-pushers (the HR equivalent of the tech writer who can only format and pretty up other people’s content).

Perhaps they should read Tom Peters’ “Brand You.” Or perhaps not…the space they vacate will simply make a bigger one for someone who knows how to actually contribute.

Perhaps one of the best-titled “So you wanna…” lists I’ve come across. Interesting that I found this by doing a search on tech writer certifications (a topic which, incidentally, has found new life on the Yahoo group ReformSTC).

Unfortunately, it doesn’t go very deep in the way of actual list items. Just 3 books are listed. But I guess if you’ve set yourself up as an instrument of tech writing justice, for good or ill, then three books is probably just enough to do some damage.

There’s a nice little rant, though.

Someone out in the blogosphere is experiencing some serious tech writing pain. Of course, it’s not “tech writing” as in “writing for idiots.” This is hardcore scientific writing – you know, the kind of writing that breaks nearly every rule concerning readability. Passive voice, 20 compound-complex sentences per paragraph, a minimum of 5 articles of jargon that even the unabridged OED doesn’t record.

Poor guy…as soon as he realizes that scientific journal writing has as much to do with ego as it does with reporting outcomes, he’ll finally grok the purpose of the passive voice.

An interesting article here about how numerical reasoning and language are independent functions. Basically, you don’t have to be a mathematician to speak or write well, and you don’t need to be a human dictionary/thesaurus to calculate numbers. Which explains weirdos like me who write well and can perform abstract reasoning tasks (which math is usually employed to teach in school), but cannot calculate equations more complex than arithmetic if lives depended on it. And it also explains weirdos like the developers I work with who can calculate all day but have trouble putting subjects and predicates together.

Anyway, something nice and short to read while you’re digesting lunch…

Now I’m waiting for the TV commercials to mention tech writing in the same breath as “dental assistant” and “private investigator” in terms of occupations you can train for in the comfort of your own home. I can just hear the 1950’s career film muzak now.

Don’t forget to read the book reviews. I know you’ll wonder, as I did, just how you managed to become a tech writer without this book.

Right.

Johnathon over at Keyboard Hack asks a good question. In fact, I’ve asked it myself and even devoted a whole category to it. But I think Johnathon’s asking it in the wrong context.

Generally, if blogs are used to talk shop, the subject matter that people want to talk about is much less threatening than writing. ASP.NET for example. I doubt there are as many people humiliated in a Web programming class for flubbing a script as there have been people humiliated in grammar school for ending a sentence with a preposition.

Too few people (in the US, anyway) like writing and even fewer like being around other writers. Fewer still actually want to devote bandwidth to talking about it. So, even the handful of tech writer blogs out there eventually drift to other topics. Not just because it’s not as interesting as, say, Microsoft’s latest PR disaster, but also because, frankly, there isn’t all that much writing-related to talk about. Writing in general, and tech writing in particular, is the great “helper app” of human history (see #8 here) and so you can’t really talk only about writing — you have to talk about it in relation to something else. At least, you do if you want to engage anyone outside your own head.

So, you want to talk shop? Head over to TECHWR-L. Drinking buddies will be more difficult, I think, but Meetup.com is probably the best place to start. Want to see more tech writers blogging? Take a look at the blogrolls of that initial handful you found…chances are you overlooked some to fill your other hand.