If an interview goes well, you can write a good manuscript. The reverse is also true.

Sometimes writing a manuscript takes longer than I expected.
The other day, that happened for the first time in a while.

As for the reasons it took time,

・It was a publication I had never worked with before
・The content was specialized medical information

These were factors, but the decisive one was that "the interview was not conducted properly."

Of course, I did my homework and did everything I could on the day. I didn't cut any corners and I worked hard. Thanks to that, the atmosphere was good throughout, and I was able to listen to them talk for a solid hour. I certainly didn't make any clear "mistakes."

Even so, I know it when I'm writing.
That it wasn't a perfect interview.
I realize the flaws in my interviewing while writing, thinking I should have researched this field of medicine a little more to ask more probing questions, or I should have dug deeper into this question, or I should have asked about this as well.

It might sound a certain way, but I have the "writing skills" to cover up those flaws.
I can write in a way that no one would ever guess that I personally felt the interview was lackluster. I can do it because of my many years of experience. (As a professional, it would be a big problem if I couldn't do this.)
As a result, the client approves the manuscript, but I am left feeling uneasy.

Because I struggle while writing, it takes time.
This is my personal theory: "If you can conduct a good interview, you can write a good manuscript." The reverse is also true.

In the end, on the day I planned to finish and submit it, I wrote part of it and decided to do the rest the next morning. (Of course, I made the deadline.)
Before going to sleep, I complained to my husband, "I couldn't finish the manuscript I thought I'd finish today. It was difficult."
He said, sounding somewhat happy,
"It's difficult! It's been a long time since I heard you say something like that."
When I said, "Yeah, it was difficult,"
He grinned and said, "It's good that it's difficult. That means you're taking on a challenge."

This person is always positive.
How many times have I been saved by his natural optimism?

That's right, if I only did things I thought were "easy" or "my specialty," there would be no growth. On the other hand, there is always growth born from challenges and reflection.
I think I was lucky that a project I found "difficult" came my way for the first time in a while.

"I never fail"
I can't say that (a famous line from an old drama. Please only understand if you know it),

but I can say,
"I will not repeat the same mistake."

Even though I've been an interview writer for 26 years, I still have things to learn like when I was a beginner, and I have many regrets.
But even master sake brewers who have been doing it for 30 or 40 years say, "Every year is my first year." That's because the rice harvest is different every year.

The people I interview are different every time, too. I don't just write about sake; basically, I'm a "jack-of-all-trades," so I interview people in various fields.
So maybe it's okay to be a first-year student every time.

But that doesn't mean "it's okay to fail." It means studying hard with the mindset of a first-year student and giving it my all. I shouldn't cut corners with experience or technique. But if I fail after doing that, I think I should just turn it into growth.

I have another medical-related interview after Golden Week, and I will do it well next time. I will prove it.
If the interview goes well, I can definitely write something good in a short amount of time.