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From the President's Desk: Pierced

by Jack El-Hai

Recently my wife and I, along with our nine- and six-year-old daughters, visited our neighborhood tattoo and body-piercing parlor. Well-run establishments like this are flourishing. Watching the staff work with their needles and tattoo machines, I learned a lesson about why some writers succeed and others fade from favor without attaining what they want from their careers.

The parlor, which is called Saint Sabrina's, is not exactly your grandpa's tattoo shop. Customers first walk into a waiting area that looks transplanted from an upscale optometrist's practice. There are sleek leather sofas, a wall of high windows admitting plenty of sunlight, and sparkling glass cases showing the latest in jewelry for pierced people. Displays of tattoo imagery swing in racks on the wall, like posters in an art gallery. The staff manning the reception desk wears white coats and, beneath the numerous piercings of their noses, lips, ears, and eyebrows, and the many tattoos that cover the visible areas of their skin, they are clean-cut, friendly, and competent.

What brought us to this place was the desire of Natalie, our nine-year-old, for pierced ears. Some of Natalie's friends had gone to teen accessory shops in the malls to have this procedure done for free, or at very low cost, and they were not happy with the results. The mall practitioners use piercing guns—similar to staple guns—to do the job. They do not always wash their hands before administering the piercings, and the guns themselves are mainly constructed of plastic, which is difficult to sterilize. Some of Natalie's friends have come home with pierced ears that were distressed, bruised, and prone to infection. The girls received little guidance on caring for their wounds.

With these bad experiences in mind, we contacted two pediatricians for advice. Pediatrician #1 had never pierced any ears herself and had no recommendations. Pediatrician #2 did not pierce ears as part of her practice, and she assumed that the mall piercers were fine.

But word on the street, especially among teens and young adults who had undergone many piercings, was that the pros in the body piercing parlors work with the greatest concern for safety and sterility. We found that true at Saint Sabrina's. Jamie, who would perform Natalie's ear piercing, required a 30-minute consultation in his cubicle before he would agree to do the work the next day. He went through the entire procedure step by step, showed us the autoclave he uses to sterilize his instruments, and sent home a brochure explaining the salt water soaks her ears would undergo to promote healing. He spoke like a medical technician, and indeed, he was trained and certified. Jamie clearly knew something about ear piercing: His own earlobes enclosed wide o-rings through which you could pass a twelve-ounce water bottle.

We were back in the cubicle the next day. Natalie reclined on a cushioned platform while Jamie scrubbed his hands and arms. Then he switched on calming music and donned surgical gloves, which he changed three times during the procedure. He disinfected Natalie's earlobe and took care that the dots of dye he used as markers were correctly placed. With the application of some clamps and the flash of a pair of long needles, the procedure was over without a single drop of spilling blood. Natalie felt nothing, and her lobes have healed perfectly. Other children were waiting their turns in the lobby as we left.

I thought about the mall piercing operations. They're doomed. Someone else is doing their job with much more interest in parents' concern for safety.

Can writers learn something from these well-trained and attentive body piercers? Who is outperforming us in meeting the needs of the people we hope to please? What new skills can we acquire to make our work more attractive? When writers hear about the short attention span of readers, the decline of general interest magazines, or the extinction of the mid-list author, do we bemoan the stupidity of the world or try to figure out what readers and publishers really want?

The planet sails ahead in an orbit that never stops. Don't let your approach to writing remain motionless.

Until June 30, you can reach Jack El-Hai at prez(at)asja.org. After that, try jack(at)el-hai.com.