Fuck you, metrics

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So my writing partner (do we say bookwife now?) is obsessive about her metrics. She knows exactly how many views she gets per day. She knows if someone’s been through her whole blog. She knows what posts are performing how. She doesn’t do anything with this information, or change anything about how her posts are structured based on it, but she knows it. Continue reading

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So what do you do?

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It’s easier to say if I blur the words together, you know? I’m a freelancewriterandeditor. Fortunately I rarely go to the kinds of parties where people conflate your job and identity anymore. And of course there’s a followup question, what did you write that I’ve read, which is even worse.

I mean, nothing if you don’t read some extremely boutique legal theory or that one viral essay.

Still, 425,000 words of novel happened somewhere in there (don’t worry, it’s only about 360K now). 90K on the novel no-one wants. Uncountable thousands on side projects, essays, poetry. A 5,000+ word detective story. A horror retelling of a folk song (but aren’t most folk songs)? Let’s not forget the story that was, memorably, rejected, with a note saying “If you ever write anything else just like this please submit it to us.”

So what do you do?

I, um. I make other people’s writing say what they want it to say.

What?

I’m a writer.

It just slips out sometimes, but I like the sound of it.

Does anybody know a good editor though, because I could use one.