Summary

Writing for a major publication is humorously compared to performing surgery, with the author detailing the meticulous preparation and various roles involved in the writing process, only to face the challenge of writer's block.

Abstract

The author likens the process of writing for a significant publication to conducting surgery, emphasizing the intense preparation required. This includes setting up a writing station with precision, akin to a surgeon preparing for an operation, and ensuring all necessary tools are at hand, such as Grammarly, notes, and coffee. The author humorously assigns roles to various elements of their environment, casting their ideas as the patient, coffee as the anesthesiologist, their spouse as the scrub tech, the internet as students, and themselves as the surgeon. Despite the meticulous setup, the writer encounters a moment of crisis when they realize they've made little progress, drawing a parallel to a patient flatlining. The piece concludes with the writer facing the daunting task of starting over, encapsulating the frustrations and humor in the creative process.

Opinions

The author uses a humorous analogy to describe the writing process, highlighting the intensity and precision it requires.
There is a sense of self-deprecation as the author acknowledges the mundane distractions and the unpredictable nature of the writing process, such as the interference of a cat.
The piece conveys the writer's struggle with procrastination and writer's block, despite the best preparations and intentions.
The author suggests that writing, much like surgery, is a high-stakes endeavor that requires focus, skill, and the ability to adapt when things don't go as planned.
The comparison of writing to surgery serves to elevate the perceived importance and difficulty of crafting a written piece for a major publication.

Why Writing for a Major Publication is Like Surgery

Grammarly, check. Coffee, check. Mind? We're losing it! Were flatlining!

How many of you have prepped your writing station intensely like you are about to do open heart surgery?

You see, you have to make sure everything is flawless — your cup of scalding hot coffee, (that eventually gets Luke warm awaiting your fresh chewed lips to meet its rim,) and you set up your laptop at just the right angle, the table cleared of Dorito crumbs, and then there’s you — sitting, staring at the screen waiting for the rest of your crew, (aka all of your profound ideas that seem to be sleeping in.) Well, its time. The patient is waiting.

Don’t forget your instruments! Let’s run through the list before we get going.

Grammarly? Check.
Notes? Check.
Gloves and facemask? Check. (oddly coincidental)
Calming instrumentals? Check. (unless you’re me then you’re blasting Sesame Street, so your toddler doesn’t know you exist outside of her.)
Coffee? Check.
Cozy pajamas? Check.
Asshole feline waiting to mess something up? Checkkkkdkjdjdjjd…(I spoke too soon.)

Great! It looks like we are prepped. What’s next? Oh yeah! The rest of your crew. Hmmm, who’s doing the surgery with you?

Well, there is the Anesthesiologist who is responsible for managing the patient’s level of consciousness during the procedure. (Coffee, and mind you, she’s severely weak this morning.)

Then we have the Scrub Tech who is in charge of all utensils used during the procedure. (The spouse, the one who decides to clean around you and get in the way.)

Ah, yes. The students! They are here to give their input and “learn” from you. (The entire internet.)

And then we have the Surgeon. Yep, that’s you, the one who is in charge of rebuilding the patient (article) without messing it up.

Don’t panic.

Ok, panic a little bit.

Just breathe, hee-whoo-hee-whoo!

And before you know it, you’re operating! Your fingers are building and perfecting this masterpiece that will awe the world! You are the master! Look at you go! You’re typing like a dang crazy person!

But wait…

You look up at your screen and discover you’ve only typed out the title and caption.

You flatline.

It’s crunch time. Your article is crashing. It’s DYING! Dear God! Your ideas are nonexistent! What are you going to do?

You’re going to sip your room temperature coffee and throw some jerky to your evil cat and then go back to the drawing board.

The scrub tech cleaned your board.

Your cat is a vegan.

You are officially screwed. Start over.

Welcome to blogging.