Archive for 2006

Most of the time, my fellow technical writers want to hear about the shift from the chains of permanent full-time work to the freedom of contracting. I agree that contracting is freer. You are free to do all the marketing required to keep yourself (and your subcontractors) in billable hours. You are free to travel to different clients constantly, racking up kilometers on your car (or bus and train tickets) which you are then free to administer in your bookkeeping and accounting which you are also free to calculate and remit in time to make your quarterly tax payments. You are free to manage your own pension scheme, health insurance, and business insurance.

You are free. But it is something of a heroic struggle. For several years I have done it, even launching a group for women professionals and women entrepreneurs to create a like-minded collective. Particularly since moving to The Netherlands, I have found myself constantly busy, but always in small projects: a few weeks here, a month there, a few weeks at another place.

Two and a half years ago, I bought a beautiful, century-old Dutch house. Then this summer, during some fairly major maintenance and building work, one of the contractors made a serious error which caused roof damage. When the rain came this fall (and, boy, does it come in The Netherlands: dark days of streaming water and howling wind), I discovered a steady stream of water coming through the roof.

Fixing the problem has not been straightforward. In fact, it is still not fixed, the rain is still pouring in, and the costs are mounting. When I was offered a full-time job for a year, I seized the opportunity.

My commute has changed from short and variable to one hour each weekday. My corporate culture has changed from ambient music and office cats to headphones and a much more sterile space shared with a colleague who must (as I must) have project meetings in the same room, one of us awkwardly trying to concentrate.

It is fun to dress well every day. I enjoy beautiful clothes, shoes, and make-up. But it is time consuming. In fact, the only thing that bothers me about my appearance is, as Maureen Dowd once said, the maintenance. It feels like a vacuum cleaner sucking up my precious time.

And that is the deepest difficulty: My time is no longer my own. I worked incredibly hard as a contractor and entrepreneur. I was literally never idle. Even my holidays were spent working on something.

But my time was my own to manage and my people worked for me. Now, I do what this client wants, no matter what it is, for at least 40 hours per week. When I am not at the client site, I maintain my appearance for them, make my lunch for the next day at their office, think about ways to cope with their schedule, iron the clothes I have to wear, and rush to keep up with the timing of everything. It is no exaggeration to say that adjusting to this temporal change has been very difficult.

But there are also some really positive things about working full time. The money is steady and reliable. I don’t have to market much other than when approaching my full-time client’s project managers to let them know about my services. I have that incredible thing that full-time workers take for granted: A paid holiday. I can cover my bills and save for the future, even possibly for an expansion of my documentation business.

Rather than relying on weekly coffee dates snatched with my network of co-entrepreneurs to keep me in touch with humanity, I see a variety of people every day. It is less lonely.

Even though the tools are, from time to time, not what I would choose for a particular result, making them work for the job in hand causes me to apply new paradigms. So I still get to learn new things, and to adapt to new situations. I work on diverse projects and manage my schedule to meet multiple deadlines. These important professional challenges have remained steady and appealing which is a pleasant surprise.

Happily, I enjoy the bicycle ride to and from work. It is time to let my mind wander, let myself work physically outside in the elements, and enjoy the beautiful Dutch canals and architecture that surround me. For some, this would be a negative part of the job. For me, it is a precious bonus.

Thinking back, I took on small jobs for my documentation business hoping they would lead to longer jobs. They led, in fact, to more small jobs. But constant worry about meeting my operating costs, generating billable hours, and paying for basic things like mortgage and food, made me continue to take on small projects because they were there. In the end, I became exhausted.

My initial transition period towards full-time work was glorious. The client gave me a month until my start date and suddenly I did not need to develop new projects. At first I was frustrated; I was used to working overtime all the time. For the first time, preparing my quarterly tax filing felt easy because I had more time to devote to it.

I wound things down gradually then, finally, took a few days off. Hiking in Ireland was, for once, not sandwiched between two stress-filled projects. I slept in for the first time in years. I spent a whole day reading a novel then a magazine then drifting in and out of sleep. After such a long time embroiled in my heroic struggle, I took time off that was really off.

As much as I love being an entrepreneur, making my mark in my industry, and creating something that is my own, I have found that there are some positive things to be said about a longer span of full-time work. My co-entrepreneurs are not all so happy about the change. When I described what I had taken on for the next 12 months, one said, “One client. For 12 months. Is that it?” I tried harder to explain. “The roof. The leak. One steady client for steady income.” But she was unable to see this as a positive opportunity. For her I had been defeated.

A few months ago, I had a similar point of view. Entrepreneurship was electric. It was a challenge. It could be a lot of fun. Something in me believes that I learned more in those hectic periods than I will ever learn again. Going against the entrepreneurial stream feels strange and a little scary. But this full-time work is something I am enjoying for now. It is not perfect but I feel positive about it for as long as it lasts.

This year’s trans-European technical publications competition is currently underway without a single Dutch entry. Come on, Holland!

The competition awards event is in Paris at the beginning of February. It is scheduled to coincide gracefully with the France chapter’s annual conference. We’ll be there!

The Amsterdam LIG is a very pleasant network of writers, editors, and graphic designers. We meet ad hoc, usually monthly. Our last meeting was to attend Museum Night on 4 November 2006 in Amsterdam. Forty museums opened their doors until 2 am with special events, a carnival atmosphere on the streets, and art lovers of all ages thronging. Blessed with good weather and a bright full moon, we bicycled to several venues and soaked up a lot of autumnal atmosphere. I don’t think we talked much about technical communication. But we benefited from it everywhere we went with excellent instructions, research pamphlets, and sign posts.

The Amsterdam local interest group (AmLIG) is an ad hoc group of writers and editors who meet occasionally in Amsterdam. Want us to come to your event? Want to meet up with us and talk shop? Use an appropriate subject line in the contact form.

Without any real planning or forethought, writers in the Amsterdam area have been massing regularly to talk shop, compare strategies, have a borrel (a wicked shot of Dutch courage called Jenever), and occasionally attend meetings of other writers’, editors’, and translators’ groups in the area. We’ve hooked up with members from SENSE (the Society for English- Native-Speaking Editors), EASE (the European Association of Science Editors), NUJ NL (the National Union of Journalists, Netherlands Branch), and STIC (Dutch STC look-alike, the Studiekring voor Technische Informatie en Communicatie).

Among other things, we’ve discussed the Region 2 Conference (London, October 2006) and Forum 2007 (Amsterdam, June 2007). There is a lot of positive buzz and professional excitement building for these two events. We believe that these events will set a level of professional expectation and a tone that will resonate for the next several years. We plan to be there for one or both of them; to add our voices to the ongoing conversation, and to be informed.

Meeting colleagues and professional neighbours outside the office is always invigorating. Gathering as keen STC members on an ad hoc basis (even as we have been doing, without any real agenda) is a way to stay current and to keep the underlying discourse lively during a normal working week. Writers of all stripes come to our Amsterdam LIG in Amsterdam. If you are in the area, we welcome you.

Websites of interest

• SENSE
• EASE
• STIC
• National Union of Journalists, Netherlands Branch
• Region 2 Conference
• Forum 2007

Although they are about the same distance apart geographically, Madrid is not to Munich what Manhattan is to Miami. In Europe, short distances can mean big differences in expectation and understanding as well as in language and culture!

I am a Canadian with dual British and Canadian citizenship. I have lived and worked in several countries, and in every case, I have found linguistic adaptability, the ability to think like a local, and sensitivity to subtle issues important talents for writing useful documentation. I learn on my feet and through being here. Even though I come from the cosmopolitan, bustling, and, by North American standards, somewhat European city of Montreal, nothing prepared me for Europe, or other places in the larger world, quite like being here. It is a challenge to which I have seen many of my fellow expats succumb. They go home, wherever home is, chalk it all up to a very foreign—and thankfully brief—experience, and settle back into what they know and understand. Although I still sometimes have bouts of wrenching homesickness, I have stuck it out in strange places and learned, eventually, to thrive immersed in foreign-ness. But what foreign-ness am I talking about?

How Far Is Foreign?

To get from England to France you merely have to hop across the English Channel. But there are glaring differences between the two countries. For example, it is a well-known fact that you can read a Frenchwoman by the way she wears her scarf and the type of scarf she wears. Englishwomen are less readable overall. As for lunch, two hours is typical in France, where drinking wine with your meal is expected even in a business setting and everyone enjoys long, gossip-filled conversations, often openly discussing office romances that would be terribly indiscrete and out of place in England. A much shorter break is the norm in England, where a quick sandwich and a cup of tea are consumed in an office canteen, or a quick pub lunch is consumed at the nearest public house (or pub). Sensitive conversations in the pub can be declared to be under Pub Rules, which means that they are not be repeated. Office romances, although they are certainly discussed, are not openly celebrated.

Italy and southern Germany (Bavaria) both huddle against the Alps, but the differences between Bavarians and Italians permeate their lives. Bavarians drink beer, drive Porsches at unregulated speeds on their straight, well-maintained highways, always look a bit severe if not thunderous, and wear lederhosen (leather shorts with suspenders) as a matter of course. Italians drink wine, drive Alfa Romeos on twisting, crumbling roads, always look sexy and cool, and wear the gorgeous, stylish clothes for which they’re famous. Could close neighbors be more different?

Writing to Match the Culture

In subtle ways, documentation written for each group has to match its cultural expectations. Bavarians would not respond well to preamble. They want brusque direction that gets to the point as quickly as possible. Italians prefer a meandering approach that gets to the point eventually, after lots of discussion, a possible sidetrack or two, and maybe some more wine. If you get to things too quickly or abruptly in Italy, you will quite literally be shown the door—and not asked back in again. If you take too much time over things in Bavaria, you will be kicked into action very quickly. Or kicked out.

Writing in Europe is all about using language and skill to bridge such differences. When I write documentation for a company in the Netherlands, I bring confidence and directness to a table that is non-hierarchical, even when the CEO is sitting at it. When I write documentation for a company in England, I bring a quieter, less assumptive expertise and a very necessary deference for management personnel.

Being There

Many such cultural clues cannot be learned other than through time spent in the country. If you want to work overseas, you have to be alert and sponge-like in your ability to absorb local culture and languages. You also have to be tolerant and patient so that you can gather data and gradually benchmark it to be able to make informed decisions.

If you want to learn to communicate technical ideas successfully abroad, it is best to live in the target country and learn the people, their language, and their point of view. Don’t expect it to be an overnight study, even if you speak the local language. Small distances in Europe mean large differences.