Mea Culpa & Breaking Rules

Based on the discussions of Gloria’s blog this week, it’s clear I need to fess up and tell the truth: I messed up. I thought I had someone lined up for today’s blog, but I didn’t, and so I am confessing the errors of my ways.

Although I’m retired from traditional employment, I think of writing as my work. (I’ve convinced the IRS of that for quite a few years with periodic dollops of income.) I took on scheduling the Salad Bowl Saturdays as part of that work, and so my most recent screw-up got me thinking about how I handled earlier work mess-ups. And that got me thinking about rule-breaking.

Throughout my career people periodically asked what I thought the secret to my relatively quick series of promotions was. Three things, I answered. First I worked 25+% more hours than most of my peers, so I had more actual experience for the same time in position. Second, if I made a commitment, I tried my darnedest to meet it, regardless of the inconvenience I caused myself. Bosses learned they could trust me. Third, I made more mistakes than other people, so I knew more.

Invariably people believed the first two points and ignored the third, although the third may be a key ingredient to my success. Frankly, I don’t learn much from doing something right the first time, especially if I am “following instructions.” If it is too easy, I may not even remember the steps I took the next time I need to perform the same task.

When I mess up, the problem and eventual solution are usually memorable. The bigger the error, the more memorable it and its resolution are. Many of my errors arise because I try something a bit different from the “tried and true.” I think I see a short cut or a “brilliant” new line of thinking and try it out. Mostly, I rediscover why people have standardized their methods the way they have. However, even “failed” experimentation allows me to better understand the reasons behind the current approach. Sometimes, I do discover a better way and both my employer and I benefit.

Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t particularly like screwing up. But if I were afraid of being wrong, I would never take any risks. Had I not taken risks, I couldn’t have improved the systems.

But it is also important to know when you can experiment and when it is imperative to follow guidelines. Exploring in the woods you come across a mushroom that is new to you. The rules say to only eat what you know is safe. Ignoring the rules can be a Darwin event. (I.e. you remove yourself from the gene pool.) I am not going to eat that mushroom. The risks are too high and the rewards too skimpy.

In writing there are very few Darwin events, but breaking rules can still kill a manuscript—or make it an award winner. I’m only a decade into this writing thing, but I’ve learned that always following the rules is boring, but ignoring them wholesale will likely mean no one will read my opus. Consequently, I toe the line with only an occasional transgression when I think it really serves my purpose.

I read that in Michael Chabon’s most recent work he has a 4,000 word sentence. I guarantee I will not read it. I will admit to dabbling with the occasional conversation not including quotes. I’m not a fan of the final comma in a series, unless it is required for clarity, but when the editor for Bad Policy relied on the Chicago Manual of Style for guidance, I was stuck inserting a ton of commas I had left out.

My current favorite “error” that I keep hoping will take hold is to use “their” as third person possessive when the individual’s sex is unknown or ambiguous. Historically one uses “his” for the unknown. (Legal documents often include the phrase that “the masculine includes the feminine and the singular the plural” – unless it is a pension plan I once worked on for Visiting Nurse of New York which said that “the feminine includes the masculine…” – I digress.) But whether or not that deviation from the standard works is something which each person will have to make up their own mind about.

What’s your take on rule-breaking?

~ Jim