Book reports.

I remember the pressure. Read a book and write a report. It had to be a certain length and cover specific things. And then there was the project. A diarama, a poster, a book jacket. Or a mobile. I hated it. Just hated it. And as you know, I don’t use that word often.

As my mother will attest, I cried under pressure. Some might say I still do, but I’d deny it. And while I suppose I could have planned my time out wisely – read the book and left time for the report and the project – I never did. Why? I’ll never know. But I didn’t. And I would panic and fall to pieces the day before it was due. Every time. I mean every single, stinking time.

So it might seem odd to some that, after some time in advertising and strategic planning, that I would find myself in essentially, the book report business. I read gobs (is that a technical term?) of information, articles, reports, and such and write about it in such a way that a reader (client) can get the gist of that huge data dump in a jiffy.

Sure, the subject matter is interesting. It’s industry reviews, competitive surveys, media audits, fact-finding. And it’s something different all the time. Plus, I do lots of other kinds of research and strategy work on top.

But still.

I took the one thing that stressed me out the very most, made me feel the least secure, made me cry….and I made it my life’s work.

I could take the position that this was a way to overcome my weaknesses. To stand over the cliff despite my fear of heights. Or I could say it was just poor planning.

Either way, here I am. Trying not to cry.