Confessions of a Political Junkie

It may sound like a humble brag, but I was once a Senior Vice President at a major engineering firm. People always asked about my background. Like many aspiring writers, I took a day job to pay the bills, hoping to carve out enough time to work on fiction. I answered an ad for an engineering company looking for editors to work in their proposal center, and I had no idea what engineers did. I thought they drove trains. But my education taught me valuable research skills, so I had confidence I could find out anything I needed to know.

Here’s a fun fact that most people don’t understand about large public works jobs: the selected contractor is chosen not based on the lowest price, but on the most qualified. How does a government agency determine which firm is the most qualified? They read a proposal, then interview the firms that meet the established criteria, and select the one deemed to provide the best value to taxpayers. And just like getting an agent to represent an author, it’s all subjective.

Stating the obvious, I had a steep learning curve. But my writer’s brain taught me to use the three main skills that make compelling stories.

·         Write what you know.

·         Play to your audience.

·         And show don’t tell.

The last one came easily. Helping engineers find the right words to explain a process was right up my alley. Pictures helped. And since I didn’t know anything, it was easy to pester the engineers to break things down for me in understandable bites of information. I simply asked, Tell me like I’m a dumb blonde. (I was actually.) Then I used what I did know: the criteria, and used that to ensure that what we were proposing answered the need.

It was playing to the audience that led me to a career in government relations. Sure, like most people, I followed elections and voted. It wasn’t until I had to explain to politicians voting for contract awards that I had frontline exposure to how they think. I moved from being a target for donation and voting ads to becoming a government contractor with a vested interest in election outcomes and the ability to channel contributions for support.

Now, I can hear the chorus of “it’s all pay to play”, but that’s not really what happens. Just imagine for a minute what it’s like to ask everyone you know to donate money in order to win an election. It’s like hearing from your crazy relative to invest in their get-rich-quick scheme that never works out. Or being a street beggar. Raising money is the necessary evil of campaigns. Understanding that difficulty made me sympathetic to their cause. Did it mean that if I gave them a donation, I would get their vote? No. It just meant they would talk to me differently as someone who is part of the process, not someone they needed to get. Understanding how they viewed the delivery of public works projects provided me with valuable insight into what shaped their subjective perspective.

For over thirty years, I counseled firms on being a good corporate citizen for elected representatives. To do my job properly, I needed to maintain objectivity. This led me to register as a “No Party Preference” voter. I needed to examine voting patterns, the amount of money raised, and make assumptions about possible outcomes. I didn’t have the luxury of picking sides. I had to pick winners.

So, yes, the first Tuesday in November is another election day. And like passing a tragic car accident, I can’t look away. I still make predictions based on how campaigns have been run. But I keep them to myself. However, you can bet I’ll be looking at the results for any new patterns. And writing political characters who show what makes them tick, like only an insider can.