Ruminations, mostly editorial
Paltry ratesstrictly editorial
February 25, 2007
Having gotten myself into a situation, I now really need to get out of it ...
To recap, I've been procrastinating with the unpleasant task of answering an email for a week. A note rolls in late this evening, a forward, asking me if I ever received the note of February 15.
One must answer. Mercifully one has until morning because a freelancer has no obligation to answer an email that arrives late on a Sunday evening. Does one boldly lie and say, why no. Does one say feebly and uselessly that one got swept up in deadlines. O dear. One feels so unprofessional. One is. One has been. Sigh. All this for $17 an hour one won't accept. This is what we'll send. Odds are good we'll never hear anything back. Despite their glorious list of titles, I can live with that.
I'm sorry, but don't think that I did. The last two weeks have been consumed, to the exclusion of virtually everything else, by a rather massive annual project.
As to the $ and the Press, having worked for a long time with nonprofits, I certainly understand the constraints that university presses face. That said, it unfortunately would not be practical for me to take on regular assignments. From time to time, though, I would be happy to, when it falls in well with other jobs. This, I appreciate, may well not be feasible for the Press.
May the publishing gods forgive me ...
February 25, 2007 9:00 PM | Add comment | Read comments (0)
A way of lifestrictly editorial
February 23, 2007
A recent post on a recent thread on an editorial discussion list got me thinking.
I don't think everyone who freelances does look at it as a business. For many, it's an income stream like the one they used to get from a job.
For me, freelancing is not a business. It is a way of life.
Some are interested in business as business. Some are not. Rather soon after college I discovered two things about myself that came as a total surprise. I'm good with numbers and at running a business. Neither, however, appeal to me.
One does one's time. For me, that was 15 years as an employee crunching numbers, running a business or two, and making the transition into publishing. Now, as a freelancer looking back at 14 years and forward to maybe 20, I take on projects that engage my one or another of various interests, or from which I can learn or at least broaden my mind, or that are by my reckoning worthwhile. The final criteria is practical and I have my share of common sense. They must meet a certain pay rate.
I don't do it for the money. I do, however, depend on the money. It is and doubtless always will be the sole significant income stream in this household.
February 23, 2007 6:21 PM | Add comment | Read comments (0)
Bless the Armystrictly editorial
February 22, 2007
Am I really saying bless the Army? Several generations of Annapolis graduates in the family turn in their respective graves, them that can turn. Shouldn't that be sink, they ask (soft voices do not run in the fam)? No, dear departed good ones, not this time. I invoke the blessing because the poor benighted Army seems to need it.
An explanation for the record is warranted. At long last I am seriously at work on the annual disaster assistance medicine project. Last year was weapons of mass destruction. This year is high-yield explosives and chemical agents. So, here I am finally focusing on it and letting other projects run —or spin their wheels, as the case may be— in the background.
Having switched from cyanides to riot control agents, I face a long string of reference list entries. Most are fact sheets and include URLs, which are always helpful, because they enable one to check for necessary details that the author almost without exception never supplies.
sidebar :: why god created editors :: end sidebar
We (that's me) end up sending an email to ask about what the USACHPPM prefers the citation to read. USACHPPM writes back. That, as it turns out, is why I said bless the Army. I wrote the Army. The Army wrote back. Fancy that.
That said, I note for the record (hence the real reason for this entry) that the Army (hence the need to bless the Army to invoke assistance for it) don't know squat about citation styles. The world makes a point of disregarding GPO, pls to note. Don't tell the government, but it's so. USACHPPM, by the way, is written in full United States Army Center for Health Promotion and Preventive Medicine.
And I complain about the social sciences?
February 22, 2007 4:08 PM | Add comment | Read comments (0)
Paralyzed by guiltstrictly editorial
February 15, 2007
She wrote in December, for the first time since the encyclopedia. Developmental editing, she said, she thought she remembered that I did developmental editing. She had a project in mind. Would I send along an updated resume? I replied, promptly, if you must know. Weeks went by. She apologized for the delay and proceeded to ask about copyediting, quite serious about taking me on, preferably yesterday. After several weeks, I replied, apologizing for the delay. Does the Press have any flexibility on rates, I asked. One doesn't rush with responses like that. One can't figure out how to ask politely yet professionally yet firmly. Weeks went by again. Fortunately, I hadn't held my breath.
An email just rolled it. It's from her. She has apologized yet again for the delay. The snow, apparently, is high in Syracuse. No dice, she says, about the idea of project rates, but still hopes to hear from me.
I need to answer. I have no idea what to say. No. I know what to say, I simply have no idea how to say it. Ah. Not so either. I know exactly what to say and have several ideas on how to say it. I do not have time to mess with it, however, not right now. Hmm. Let's put it this way. I don't want to mess with it right now. There we go.
I foresee a year of Scarlett moments, one right after another. I must find a carrot and shake it at the sky. No, not a carrot. That's muddled. It's the taxes. Or Ashley. That's it. Ashley doesn't love me. But I don't love Ashley. I love Rhett (even if it has taken me a while to figure that out). But Rhett doesn't love me. He used to, dreadfully. I look up, teary eyed ...
I'll think about it tomorrow. At Tara.
February 15, 2007 10:12 AM | Add comment | Read comments (0)
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