Sometime over the weekend, I was heard to comment to my husband that you wouldn’t think it could take so bloody much work to write barely 200 words.
By the time I made the comment, I had spent
2 hours in video calls
Several Signal messages
8+ hours of writing
4+ hours of planning
10+ git commits
Untracked time reading
Uncountable moments of staring at the wall
Several mugs of Ovaltine
And not enough baby cuddles
And I still wasn’t finished the iteration I was working on.
My husband threw a glance over his shoulder, from the dishes he was washing to my fagged-out, brain-drained face, and commented matter-of-factly:
‘Which is why you get paid the way you do.’
The project is a landing page, for a software team that genuinely cares about detail.
It’s the kind of detail that asks things like:
‘Was it intentional that you used this word here but that synonym there? Can you explain it for me?’
And I appreciate it.
But it struck me, while completing the CopyDoc for the project, how few people document their content.
The CopyDoc for this almost-200-words thing, just so you’re across the scale of it, runs to more than 10 pages. It includes all explorations for every tiny piece, from buttons to leading paragraphs. It also includes research, thinking, critical components, terminology, notes, ideas, and explanations. In fact, you could probably read the doc and get a sense of the journey I’ve taken towards this probably-200-words.
When’s the last time you got served a journal with the content you farmed out?
When’s the last time you wanted to test a variation, and knew exactly where to go to find out you’d already tested that variation?
When’s the last time you even thought about documenting your content?
Never, probably. Amirite?
At Write the Docs in Sydney a couple of years ago, a technical writer from somewhere in Greater Asia asked me how he might improve his practice without a team.
Having run solo for most of my career, I knew the problem very well.
I suggested he document his docs.
That way, I pointed out, he can leverage his network and find a buddy to help his ongoing development.
He studied me for a moment. ‘Docs for the docs?’ He rubbed his chin, stared a while longer. His brain churned for a while. ‘Hmm I can already see where that would be helpful, actually.’
If you aren’t keeping your own documentation, allow me to inspire you today.
Allow your business to level up.
Request copy docs from your freelancers.
Or better yet, work with me.
Getting access to ongoing documentation about your content is the cream on the cake when you’re one of my clients.
It’s a bonus that has long-term meaning, unlike my communication service level guarantee, the private client portals, or the simplicity of booking your jobs in.
The docs, you see, will be around long after we have parted ways, shining a light on where you’ve been and what’s coming next.
Kind of like a communication plan, but for the content itself.
I’m telling you this because I’ve got room right now for two ongoing clients, for continuous wordsmithing (like blogs or emails).
If you’ve got a need, and a budget of at least $1400 per month, open a discovery call now.
No bookings required: