What documentation is for

Documentation, as in instructions on the use of a product, had humble beginnings on the labels of genuinely hazardous products. The purpose was not only how to make best use of the watzit, but how to avoid harm to oneself and others whilst doing so. My technical writing prof had spent some of his years writing doc for aircraft parts, and never let us lose sight of that dimension of our craft.

Someone at the manufacturer of a household cleaner favoured under this roof didn't get this memo. Besides dwelling on the product's environmental credentials, the label went over the perils of getting the product in the eyes. No other hazards: just butterflies and warm fuzzy bunnies.

It neglected to mention what happens when one inhales it...even a little bit.

I admit to having my stupid hat on when I was dutifully deep-cleaning hard-to-reach parts of the kitchen. Most commercial cleaners are about 80 percent water, 20 percent surfactant. This particular cleaner, dressed in all its healthy-earth finery, is more or less the opposite ratio. One has to get on the product web site to read two disturbing cautions: first, only use the specially designed nozzle supplied with the product, which breaks up the surfactant more than standard spray bottle. Second, do not breathe the product, ever, at any stage of dilution, especially without the specially-designed nozzle.

One would think these precautions deserved a place on the label, eh? Well, in my stupid hat, I used the product in a standard spray bottle and, since I was working at about chin level, I breathed some of it in.

That was Sunday. The inflammation of my nasal and laryngeal mucus membranes mentioned on the Web site began before the day was out. It's Wednesday night and the inflammation hasn't subsided.

There's not much to be done. Basically it's an overdose of sore throat. so the treatments are pretty much the same. For someone who doesn't work in a medical office, with all sorts of reference material at arm's reach, I imagine the experience could be alarming. I find it annoying, on several levels.

It's no good to read the fuckin' manual if the manual overlooks actually hazardous information.

Don didn't know it all

Donald Murray, teacher and mentor to two generations of writers at the University of New Hampshire, was full of advice. One of his favourite tips was that freelance writers should acquire a skill that has nothing to do with writing and that takes little creative power. He was not a friend of the starving artists school of thought, believing that want saps creativity rather than motivating it.

Being smartasses of a certain generation, we were inclined to ask if that was why he had made his living as a reporter, then an editor talented enough to get a Pulitzer, then a teacher of writing. His calm answer was that if he had it to do over again, he would follow his own advice. He recommended piano tuning as an occupation especially suited to writers. The schedule was irregular, he said, but the work fairly steady and well-paid. It put one in touch with another sort of creative people as well.

I've been getting progressively deeper into my own version of this, and I'm not sure the advice was so good. The schedule is erratic, not irregular. The work seems prone to dwindling, and one's human contacts are more exacting than creative. And alas, a skill which looked appealing at the outset shows signs of being, well, humdrum.

Possibly I chose poorly. The result is that it is rather hard to start the engine at the end of the day, even when one's mind is churning with ideas. This too, presumably, shall pass, but I think it may be better to do as Don did, not as he said. Writing begets writing.

John Reading

Writers get strange gigs. For example, I wrote for a trade publication targeted at antiques dealers. That only sounds good. Working with antiques dealers is not only a herding cats job, at times it's like being referee of the World Championship Extreme Cat Fighting competition. A number of my peers have had equally strange writing jobs.

To my knowledge, none has written for Portable Restroom Operator. Now, I allow that every business represents a niche, but one wonders. How does one present this on the resume? How do these articles look in your portfolio? What goes on in the editorial meetings?

These aren't light and transient questions, pilgrims. Along with everything else one can imagine about writing for Portable Restroom Operator, it's possible to assume that it faces the same business challenges faced by every other print publication these days. Those writers may soon be our competition in places that don't elicit chuckles. No matter what your topic, writers in print media have a shitty future. (There: now that I've written a scatological remark, I feel much better.)