The marked-up paper was in my bag.
My girlfriend was working on a business plan for a clothing line with an artist. She sent me a draft while it was still missing some research and asked what I thought.
I printed it, read it, and wrote comments across the pages.
My first response was positive and blunt. The content was very good. The facts and market definition needed more work. Some statements needed to be rephrased. The introduction also put the collaborators in the wrong order.
I did not fill in the unfinished research or call the plan ready. My notes focused on the facts that needed support, the wording, and the order of the opening.
It was a clothing line, so I thought the designer should come first.
“Your credentials for this plan are more powerful and you should lead with your best assets first,” I wrote.
I wanted the opening to explain immediately why this particular group could make the thing they were proposing. The artist mattered, but the designer had to be visible before the reader reached the rest of the story.
I asked when she wanted to go through the notes. The paper copy stayed in my bag until we could sit down together.
The next step was a conversation over the marked pages, not another version sent back by email.
The plan belonged to her and the artist. She had asked me to read it, mark the paper, and help make the argument clearer.
The marked-up copy stayed in my bag until we could review it together.