The Creative Clash

Recently, I had to prove to someone that, despite years working as a writer or editor for software companies that produced highly-technical software, I was actually creative.

I thought the evidence was in plain sight. For example, this blog. I'm not writing about motherboards, legislation, or e-commerce, but everyday topics that (for whatever reason) strike my fancy that day.

Besides the poems or editorials I wrote in college, or websites and logos I've designed, what other evidence is needed?

Perhaps I need to purchase "creative" clothing. Maybe, instead of the khakis and v-neck t-shirts, I need to break-out my old pair of Vans and don Ed Hardy (for you so-called creative writers, tell me why those last three words are my version of word play). Then I can head to my salon and ask for an asymmetrical haircut because nothing speaks, let alone sparks, creativity like a funky haircut. I should also hire a language coach to teach me how to talk slowly but with cool precision when discussing everything from Moby to Picasso to Mies Van Der Rohe.

Maybe writing is like living in Phillip Johnson's glass house---not always functional but what a stage it makes. That is, a person's writing ability is only functional until they present it a certain way. Perhaps a writer is only as good as the stage they set; the main character on the playbill dresses, acts, speaks, and writes in a certain way for a certain audience.

Then again, maybe I'm the ultimate creative person because I've spent the last seven years masquerading as a technical writer when all I want to do is write engaging, creative copy that makes people laugh, cry, and, most importantly, read and think.

The biggest challenge? Silencing the critics who've only seen the opening act and convincing those who haven't seen it to pay for the show.