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Photo by Startup Stock Photos from Pexels Curious about what a technical writer can do for you?
Here are twenty-five things you might find a technical writer doing in their job on any given day:
Interviewing a subject matter expert to learn more about what they are writing about.
This might be a product manager, project lead, developer, customer, salesperson, developer advocate, end user, nearly anyone who might touch or use what we are a writing about.
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Photo credit: by Jonas_Fehre at Pixabay As a guy in my mid-40s, my health is something that has become increasingly “in my face”.
I’ve never been someone who worked out. After developing Crohn’s disease in 2016, I did an elimination diet and lost 50 pounds. That led me to my lowest adult weight of 165lbs.
But in the years since, I’ve settled into a desk job as a technical writer and did nothing to maintain anything active.
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Photo credit: by Greta Hoffman at Pexels He’d always been told to bloom where he was planted. But there were two very acute problems with this:
He wasn’t a flower. He wasn’t planted anywhere, either. Trevor rubbed his temples. Ms. Perez needed milk and eggs. Mr. Grant had a bulb to change that he couldn’t reach. The new couple in 4B wanted to try their sofa on a different wall.
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Photo credit: by Marek Piwnicki at Pexels One star peeped out in the darkening sky. A wispy cloud shrouded the crescent moon. Wind meandered over the ground, interrupted here and there by the jut of a line or the tower of a boulder.
Life had crawled here, once. Broken out of the top bit of crust and tried to shape the exterior to its whims. For the briefest of time, that life had even seemed in control.
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Photo credit: by Lisa Fotios at Pexels The smell wafted under the door and enveloped her bed. It roused her from her phone screen with its intensity.
Childhood.
Friendships.
Love, and love abandoned.
Grief, deepest, heart wrenching grief.
Laughter.
The pressure of exams.
The intoxication of the work triumph.
It was all there. Around her. Over her. In her lungs. Breath after breath.
The door cracked, brightening her comforter. He padded in, careful not to trip.
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Photo credit: by cottonbro studio at Pexels Ten fingers rested on a lap.
Just that morning, they had gripped hard the handle of the spoon they used to stir together a batch of cookies. Later, they held and moved the pen across a letter to a friend on the other side of the ocean. Recently, they touched flowers along the trail as they took their evening walk.
Yesterday, they had tended wounds.
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Photo credit: by Ketut Subiyanto at Pexels Dane smiled as he walked over his threshold and set his bag on the side table. It had been a good day. Only good decisions today.
He reflected on each of those decisions in turn, amazed at how they furthered the world toward a better future, small as each was.
But as he emptied his pockets to put the bad decisions in the collection box, there was a moment of worry.
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Photo credit: by Mikhail Nilov at Pexels The wind swirled and ruffled the blanket spread on the well-groomed lawn of the quad. Glancing over, Jace watched the fabric slowly rise and fall back as the air took it and let it go.
They laid back again and stared up at the passing clouds, wishing that, like the blanket, the tasks before them would let go. Clouds passed. A rabbit. A leaf.
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Photo credit: by Pixabay at Pexels The tall one, leaning against the wall, sighed. “What will become of us? We’ve waited in shadows and darkness for so long.”
Her friend, laying on the flat surface where they could rest before the morrow’s demands replied, “Hard to say. It could really be anything.”
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The master picked up the newest pencil she had laid against the window the day before.
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Photo credit: by Monstera at Pexels Liam stared at the crack, like he did virtually all of the time here. There was no way for him to know whether the cot had melded to his back, or his back to the cot. Either way, they were basically a single entity now.
His back, the cot, and that crack. Sometimes he imagined shrinking into the crack and exploring the other side.
