As a working engineer, nothing set my teeth on edge more than a huge meeting where best practices were shared. The unstated understanding was that whatever one person shared was a holy grail that would transform the way others managed their project or tasks, and equally implicit was that the rest of the room were dullards for not having thought up the best practice to start with.
Just as every snowflake is different, and every grain of sand unique, each person’s best practice is applicable to them alone. Yes, there is benefit in learning how others approach a similar problem but in the end, each situation calls for a tailored solution.
I rebelled against the best-practice religion in my engineering career, but followed it blindly when I dedicated my time to writing. I listened to those that said — ‘Just write it, you can fix whatever is wrong in the re-write.’ Having come from an industry that values doing it right the first time – the whole notion of a built-in rewrite cycle seemed flawed. But I wrote. I penned a messy, confusing story that four rewrites later is still going through major revision.
While still pecking away at that novel, I wrote a shorter, middle-grade novel, trying a more structured – dare I say engineering-based – approach. True to form, I altered the recommended spreadsheet, but the story came together faster, with less work to do in the rewrite.
I realized that I have an engineers analytical brain, and when I try to deny that, my writing suffered. Once I honored this fact, I felt my writing elevate and storytelling became easier. Best Practice should be re-framed to “here – this worked for me — see if it works for you” — and that I embrace wholeheartedly.