Tag Archives: kw

What’s really tough in my field

November 30, 2020 jkkblog Leave a comment

Now and then I sense that many observers think I have a pretty good gig: “You fix their grammar, duh, and get paid.” I grant that I’ve had worse jobs, and ones to which I was worse suited, but it has agonizing moments. (And I don’t just “fix their grammar.”) Take for instance:

A referral contact comes in: a rambling phone call leaving a several-minute message about her manuscript. It is evident that the caller is elderly and perhaps dealing with memory issues. Her name is Ada Miller. She conveys:

The ms is an autobiography about Ada’s life, which has been about as interesting as most people’s (that is, not very much so).
Ada was referred to me by my old friend Edna, who lives in the same senior complex. Edna is a wonderful lady who is always trying to do nice things for people, and I respect her very much.
She has not quite finished it, but she would like a firm quotation. You know, just to get an idea of how much it will cost to clean up a few minor errors.
Ada is on a fixed income, and in case I don’t get the hint, more or less indicates that this better not cost much and that I should offer a senior discount. After all, how hard can it be to fix a few typos? she asks with a chuckle.

I call Ada back, addressing her as Ms. Miller (old school Kansas boy, here), and attempt to discuss the ms. That is not feasible, unless I’m willing to talk over her and be branded rude. Ada rambles about her life, her story, her two cancer diagnoses, her children, her life, her story, how to find a publisher, her poverty, some other health problems, what a great buildup Edna gave me, and on. And on.

Ada is a lonely elderly lady hoping to make a little bit of extra money and get her story out there. She is a fundamentally nice, good person who thinks of others. However, she understands little about editing, the modern world of publishing, marketing to publishers, self-publishing, or any of that stuff. She expects me to educate her about all this, in between her soliloquies, and certainly does not expect to pay me for that time. (Not that I’ve ever charged for it, but I also reserve the right to limit it.)

When Ada does not like what she’s hearing from me, she argues with me in her genteel way. Each disagreement is grounds for her to deliver several minutes of reasons why she is correct.

Okay. You want to be an editor? Here’s your job. Decide:

Plan on a massive amount of unpaid effort, wading through a ms loaded with problems, knowing Ada will reject probably half the edits, all in service of a project that will never make her one dime, for what will turn out to be an effective billing rate of about $5/hour. And that’s just for the editing time, which will be the most painful editing of your entire career. That’s not taking into account all of Ada’s loneliness emails and conversations.
Find a way to reject this poor, nice, elderly potential client, who has no idea what she’s doing and isn’t willing to follow any guidance that she might not agree with. Challenge: do so without crushing her soul and sending her to Edna with many humphs about how unhelpful and rude you were to her.

Yeah, I have such an easy job.

Adventures

Howls in the forest

December 23, 2011 jkkblog 1 Comment

When my wife thinks what I want to do is stupid, she has a pragmatic approach. She tells me I’m an idiot, but does it with me anyway. Thus our trip today to the Alaska Zoo.

Alaska’s zoo is like few others on earth. Where else could you set up a great rehab center for cold-weather animals? It was 20 F with about 8″ of fresh snowfall, and the idea that the zoo should close for this would be considered comic in Anchorage. It wasn’t very busy, though, with most locals having more important holiday business than observing a musk ox. After some wrong turns and slick road adventures, we finally found the place.

Highlights that we did not see, because they were either hibernating or staying inside, included the bears and cats (snow leopards, Siberian tigers). To our delight, the ravens in their enclosure were beaking their food out through the bars to other (free) ravens, who flew off to eat their freebie lunches with much happy rawking. Bald eagles; great horned owls; a goshawk; a snowy owl. You have to get fairly close to all these birds to grasp just how big they are. In Alaska they tell stories about some lady who stopped to let her sweet little snookums Pierre, a miniature pinscher or some other equally irritating miniature canine, answer nature’s call–only to have a golden eagle strike, grab puppy and cart him away for a delicious dinner. When you are ten feet from a golden eagle, you can see how one could fly off with Pierre, leash and all.

The elderly wolverine had passed away, more’s the pity, but there were the anticipated musk oxen, caribou, moose (hello, Bullwinkle), Bactrian camel, alpacas, yaks, and some sort of tiny hairy donkey. I have no idea what it was called, but it looked like a Great Dane-sized rabbit. On the way back, we passed by the wolves.

The alpha male was a big dark fellow, looking us over with that calm lupine scrutiny. Deb gave forth the quiet beginnings of a howl, the same one she uses to get our Labrador all stirred up when she hears fire sirens. The Alaska Zoo is essentially paths through a forest, so other than fences and restraints, it’s a walk through the woods with limited distance visibility. And then the alpha took up her howl.

It was as if he summoned the rest to sing. Before long we had six wolves serenading us with the spooky howls you last imagined when you read Call of the Wild. They put on a wolf concert for us lasting at least five minutes with no further urging, their manner friendly if not cuddly (wolves don’t do cuddly), with the scene all to ourselves. If you’ve never heard such a thing, once in your life it is well worth finding a way to hear. It is more interesting when some of the wolves are gazing directly at you. I was well reminded of my abridgment/editing work on White Fang some years back, one of my very first paid writing assignments.

Neither of us was going anywhere for so long as the wolves sang. When they subsided, I inscribed a rune into the fresh snow before them, my own signature. Other than that, I couldn’t add to what Deb said: “That made this whole trip worth it. That’s special.”

The cream cheese brownie at the snack bar had been heavenly. I wouldn’t trade those five minutes for a year’s supply of zero-calorie equivalents.

Alaska.

Adventures

Bullwinkle watch

December 22, 2011 jkkblog Leave a comment

Alaska is like the West, only more so.

In Anchorage it’s about 23 F and snowing. No one in Alaska stops doing anything due to the weather, and neither will we. Since I don’t know the town, I’m useless in my usual role as navigator. Deb: “Here’s something you can do: watch for moose.”

She wasn’t joking. Moose wander into Anchorage (pop. 500,000 give or take) in winter. They are just looking for food, but they can be extremely dangerous and unpredictable. 99% of the locals have the sense to give them a wide berth and refrain from feeding them; the number used to be higher until the Darwin effect winnowed them out. No one from Fish & Wildlife shows up to dart and remove the moose unless they pose threats; if someone is idiot enough to trouble them, and gets trampled, that improves the local gene pool.

Of course, you don’t want to hit a moose on the road, especially at 45 mph, nor do you want to have to slam on your brakes (on an icy road) to avoid one. Thus I was on Bullwinkle watch, and will be as long as we are here. It is my duty to assure that we don’t hit a moose.

One of the best things about Anchorage is Title Wave Books, about the coolest used bookstore you could imagine. It’s a used bookstore about the size of Barnes & Noble, but comparing Title Wave to B&N is like comparing Camembert to Kraft polymer cheese. The selection is amazing from a browsing standpoint. I could spend $2000 in there and equip myself with enough reading for at least two years–and not exhaust the interest level of browsing there. I felt more intelligent just walking the aisles. For an editor, all of whom are necessarily voracious readers, it’s heaven.

Book reviews

Anyone else remember the Educator Classic Library?

December 13, 2011 jkkblog 2 Comments

This series of books may well have been the most ridiculously great bargain my mother ever spent money on, when one measures the amount spent vs. the educational gain. Anyone remember them? They came out in the late 1960s, large hardback adventure classics familiar to most people: Treasure Island, The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood, Alice in Wonderland, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, and more. They looked like this:

What made these versions great, above and beyond the basic greatness of the literature:

Nearly all were unabridged–but no fear on frustrating references, as margin entries defined anachronistic or complex words for the young reader.
The cover and interior art was something to behold, painting just enough imagery to help the young mind do the rest.
The afterword was always interesting and revealing, both about the author and about the story’s times.
With relatively large print, children had an easy time with them.

One may imagine the pause it gave me, many years later, when my writing and editing work called for me to abridge some of these very classics for young readers. Full circle indeed. Take a literary scalpel to Robert Louis Stevenson? In the cause of enticing young people to the joy of reading, yes.

I read my Educator Classics so many times I had whole passages memorized before I went off to kindergarten. This is more a tribute to the books’ greatness than to any youthful eideticism on my part. Later in life, I realized our family never owned them all. Of course, I still have all the originals we did own–those aren’t going anywhere until they scatter my ashes. Now, thanks to the ease and versatility of modern used book hunting, I am seeking these out one by one so as to complete the collection.

If you are doing the same, a lady named Valerie has compiled a full list of the series, including some knowledgeable notes. She’s right; they would be ideal homeschooling tools. I think they’re one of the best possible ways to introduce kids to the adventure novel.

Editing/writing life

Working with editors…what’s it really like?

November 18, 2011 jkkblog 2 Comments

The common perception is that when you get published, the publisher assigns an editor to work with you and improve the manuscript. In some cases that actually happens, but in many others, not at all.

In my case, as a hired ‘lancer, I have been not so much assigned editors as I was assigned to editors. The editor has a major say in that; if she wants me on the project, and I’m interested in it, I am on the project. (Feminine pronoun used advisedly, as about 3/4 of my editors have been women.) Obviously, if she has asked for me, we probably have a good rapport and track record, or someone recommended me to her, so I probably want to be on the project. I’ll only turn it down if I think I would do so poorly it would damage my overall standing. My interest or lack thereof in the subject matter is immaterial. The pertinent question is “can I do a good job?”

So what is editing like? Editors all have their own processes. My first editor rarely provided feedback, just took the work and changed what he felt he needed to. Later editors have run the gamut from little modification to extensive requests for change. What no one does is suggest wording or send back proofreading; she is not here to teach me how to write, as I’m supposed to know that part already. I can’t recall an editor ever saying anything gratuitously cruel to me, but I have had work returned to me with comments, queries and requests for rewriting. Sample comments:

“Please provide more detail. How does the widget actually work? Why is unobtanium essential?”

“Here you imply that he is a criminal, but you haven’t laid any foundation for what kind of crime.”

“Please rewrite this to give an idea of the worth and rarity of each item. The reader does want to know this, at least an estimate, even if it’s a moving target.”

I have been told that work needs to be redone, and how it needs to be redone, but no editor has ever said anything like: “This is abominable, a crime against literature. Please tell me where you attended college, so I can make sure my children steer well clear of its liberal arts programs.” Or: “My dog did better than this claptrap when I let him out this morning.” Never have I felt that an editor sought to offend me for the sake of doing so. She may be very direct and frank about the problem, but she presumes me to be professional and cooperative, preferring candor, open to improvement. If she thought I was a drama queen or a fragile soul, she wouldn’t want me around in the first place–nor should she.

Do I have a voice? Freelancers do not get much, but that doesn’t mean I have to be silent. If there is a usage, term, or some other device I feel is crucial to the whole, I explain in the editor’s notes I append to most work. If I can explain the necessity to her satisfaction, she generally goes along; however, I don’t often do this. My deal is to write what she assigned me to write, and I have zero legal control over the end result. I will be edited, and that’s part of the gig. Even if I don’t like how she did it, or she actually inserted a mistake, that’s the breaks. One must (wo)man up and live with it. Anyone seeking any sort of literary career needs to get okay with editing, even embrace it.

The net result has been very positive. Editors catch you when you get sloppy. Some provide more detail, some less, but if I’m lacking in an area, I want to step up my game. I have come to like and respect nearly all my editors. Even those I wouldn’t say I liked, I nearly always respected, which is far more to the point of it all. My goals are to be punctual, easy to work with, and do quality work to spec. In return, I have found editors accommodating of life circumstances, conscientious about assuring that I get paid, and fun to work with. Their goal is to assemble and print the highest quality work for a reasonable cost, and if I want to keep ‘lancing, I must further that goal.

Married life, Social comment

Facebook chain sermons about animal love

October 22, 2011 jkkblog 6 Comments

Don’t get me wrong, I understand that a lot of folks find themselves deeply moved by some of these–and sometimes they even affect me. Today I had a good rejoinder for one and was feeling self-promoting enough to share it, with the kind permission of Lisa, who gets props for being a great sport about it. It accompanied a cartoon picture of a couple in bed, each perched on an edge, with several animals hogging the middle:

“IF I DIDN’T HAVE MY DOGS OR CATS:

I could walk around the yard barefoot in safety
My house could be carpeted instead of tiled and laminated
All flat surfaces, clothing, furniture and cars would be free of hair
When the doorbell rings, it wouldn’t sound like a kennel
When the doorbell rings, I could get to the door without wading through fuzzy bodies who got there before me
I could sit on the couch and bed the way I wanted without taking into consideration how much space several fur bodies would need to get comfortable.
I would have money and no guilt to go on a real vacation.
I would not be on a first-name basis with 6 veterinarians, as I put their yet unborn grandkids through college.
The most used words in my vocabulary would not be: out, sit, down, come, no, stay and leave it ALONE.
My house would not be cordoned off into zones with baby gates or barriers.
I would not talk ‘baby talk’. ‘Eat your din din’. ‘Yummy yummy for the tummy’…
My house would not look like a day care center, toys everywhere.
My pockets would not contain things like poop bags, treats and an extra leash.
I would no longer have to spell the words B-A-L-L, W-A-L-K, T-R-E-A-T, O-U-T, G-O, R-I-D-E, C-O-O-K-I-E.
I would not have as many leaves INSIDE my house as outside.
I would not look strangely at people who think having ONE dog/cat ties them down too much
I’d look forward to spring and the rainy season instead of dreading ‘mud’ season.
I would not have to answer the question ‘Why do you have so many animals?’ from people who will never have the joy in their lives of knowing they are loved unconditionally by someone as close to an ANGEL as they will ever get.”

How EMPTY my life would be!!!

[last known credit: Wanda Jones]

I thought about it for a moment, then replied:

“Well, I’ll be able to go along with that the day an actual angel uses my basement as a celestial urinal, or lays a holy steamer next to my wife while she’s decorating our fake holiday tree, or throws up angel yack on my bedroom carpet causing naked me (coming in late and in the dark) to slip and fall on my bare ass in about six quarts of angel vomitus.”

No, I wasn’t making that up or exaggerating. It happened about six years back. We have a Labrador Retriever named Fabius. I named him for Q. Fabius Maximus Verrocosus Cunctator, Dictator of Rome, for a number of reasons. The chief one was that as a puppy (he was primarily ears and paws), Fabius would not come on his leash. He delayed us frequently. Fabius Maximus’ epithet ‘Cunctator’ means ‘the delayer’ or ‘the procrastinator,’ depending on whether you are admiring his tactics of wearing Hannibal down, or grousing that he doesn’t immediately win the war for Rome…’Fabian Tactics’ remain the term for this in military science to this day. I finally had to drag him along until he got the idea, thus, ‘Fabius.’

Anyway, around 1:30 AM, I came in to go to bed, shucked my clothes in the pitch dark, and worked my way along the base of the bed with caution for the Thigh Hunters–the square bedpost capitals that seek out an author’s quadriceps if he is incautious in the dark, causing him to hiss a curse. It did not occur to me that Fabius might have cut loose with a spectacular vomit on the carpet, nicely cooled down by now. I stepped right in it, barefoot, slipped, and landed on my butt with a thud and a volley of pain-pumped swearing. While I realize this is not what my lovely bride wants to wake her up at 1:30 AM, you try falling on your nalgas in dog puke at that hour (without advance warning, mind you) in silence.

Let me know how that went.

I didn’t take it out on Fabius. While certainly one shouldn’t, I still think I deserve at least a minor commendation ribbon for not losing it.

Feel free to share your funniest pet disaster in the comments.

Social comment

On aging

October 13, 2011 jkkblog 2 Comments

One of our greatest challenges in life and maturity is to see the world through other eyes, empathize with how other people feel. There are limits to it. A man may, with significant effort, apply the assumptions of femaleness to life, and see that life somewhat through her eyes. An adult may quite easily see the world through a child’s eyes, having once owned a pair. A white person will probably strain to empathize with the experience of being black, but to a degree, it can be done. Most of this is really a matter of thinking things through: what would it be like for the other person, and what attitudes, preferences and behaviors does this explain?

One firm bar exists that I do not think we can breach: age. I’m 48. At 24, half a life ago, I could not have conceived how it felt to be double my age, much less quadruple. This, it seems, only years confer. My grandmother is 92, nearly double my current age. The impact of the changes, cycles, generations, the sheer accumulated mass of people she has known, the realization that a vast percentage of them have passed on, the icy reality that even in excellent health and with much luck, the clock of life ticks ahead, these I believe are beyond me despite the greatest effort I might make.

This is why it’s good to talk to people older than ourselves. They simply know things we do not. Even a glimmer of their realizations is precious to those of us younger. And once those realizations fall silent and still with the passing of life, or fade into forgetfulness or loss of mind, they are lost and gone forever. There will be others, but that set of memories and that gathered mass of realization is no longer available.

I think of this sometimes when working with older clients, and as I become elder myself. Much is there to learn, and to teach if people wish to learn.

I will share with you one bit of that elderly wisdom I gathered up, just over half a lifetime ago. It was the time Queen Elizabeth II came to UW for a visit, and ROTC cadets and midshipmen were invited to volunteer to help the police and Secret Service with security. There’s a lot else about the story, but the pertinent part here is where we were assigned to help usher people to their seats.

Well, the bleachers at Hec Ed are not always an easy climb for the ancient and frail. Noting a very elderly lady struggling to get up to her place, a NROTC midshipman and I simultaneously arrived at her sides. We somewhat helped and somewhat lifted the lady up the bleachers into her seat. An unremarkable act of duty in itself, but what was remarkable was her eyes, eyes that had known at least four British monarchs despite Her Majesty’s considerable longevity. As we set her down gently on the varnished wood, she looked at each of us in turn with an intensity that pierced the soul. She said quietly but very firmly, “Thank you, you young gentlemen. Someday, someone will do this for you.”

You’re welcome, ma’am, but I wasn’t the giver. What I gave was insignificant in comparison to what I received.

Editing/writing life

Armchair Reader: Fascinating Bible Facts

September 9, 2011 jkkblog Leave a comment

Word has filtered my way that the abovementioned book will soon be distributed. I’m very glad of this, because I did a lot of work on it. Some months ago, I blogged about it, but there were evidently delays. As I look back, I feel very optimistic about its reception because I believe the editors commissioned excellent content (and I am not talking about my own, specifically, but their overall topic selection philosophy). Can’t wait to get my comps.

I am not sure if you can yet pre-order it, but I will keep an eye out. Given that most of my friends and family are Christian (some are very avid Bible readers), I’m probably going to order quite a few to give away. Kudos to PIL for getting this one moving!

Editing/writing life, Homeownership

Okay, I’ve learned a lesson.

September 1, 2011 jkkblog Leave a comment

Never follow any rule off a cliff.

Put another way: for people to be interested in the everyday mundane about one’s life, even if infused with some comedy, one has to be more famous than I am.

My readership isn’t enormous, but it is steady and doughty, and it’s way down this week. Clearly the concrete saga, which I thought might have some interest, isn’t all that interesting. I say that without the slightest sour grapes; rather, I am thinking, “Well, I’m glad I did the experiment. Didn’t work. Learn and move on.”

So, there will not be a continuance of the concrete saga, or those like it, unless they produce something I think someone besides me would find interesting. I will return to eclecticism and variety, which my dearly appreciated and valued readers (that would be you) have shown that you prefer. And honestly, I’d prefer to write eclectically anyway, so this is a happy learning experience.

Speaking of which, if there is a type of blogging you prefer/enjoy, by all means leave a comment telling me what you would rather see. I am of the philosophy that says: be kind to the reader. I will be glad to be influenced to write what you do want to read.

The Editorial Maverick