the internship, part two

The three assistant editors went out for lunch with me and the other editorial intern, Jennifer, during the second week of my internship. My boss, Leah, drove us to a local wrap place. We all sat on barstools, eating our wraps, talking about our lives and editing. In the car, twenty-three-year-old Amanda mentioned that, before coming to the company a year earlier, she had read a book a week. “Me too!” I exclaimed, wondering if my reading enjoyment would lessen as I read more at work.

It’s funny: I remember telling a friend of mine once that if I could find a job where I would read books all day, I would be perfectly happy. When I’d made the comment, editing hadn’t occurred to me as a job possibility. But at this internship, my primary job task centered on exactly what I’d wished for: reading. What I loved most my job was the variety of materials I got to read: one day I would be reading about religion; the next, raising children. I read relationship books, self-help legal guides, comics, fiction. Each day I learned about new subjects and consumed more information.  The downside, of course, was that I gradually didn’t care much for other reading, and my reading-for-pleasure waned during the time I spent at the company.

Bequita, who had received her undergraduate degree from a prestigious university in the Midwest, asked me about graduate school as she moved her bowl of cinnamon pita chips between us. “Do you like it?” she wondered.

“Yeah, I do. My classes are centered on things I’m actually interested in … and for me, who didn’t major in journalism in undergrad, it’s really important to get this training.”

“Hmm,” she answered, unconvinced. “I’m still upset about how little my degree has done for me. And then there’s student loans!”

I nodded. She had voiced an unspoken concern of my own: sometimes I wondered if graduate school would help me find the job I’d wanted when I’d enrolled. I hoped that the results of my education would justify my investment in it. But sitting there at Fresh City, the only one of five women who had pursued a master’s degree, I realized I was the educational superior, but the least vocationally advanced. Education’s great, but I was working for people with less formal training than mine; it seems in this profession, experience is everything.

a year ago or, the internship: part one

It hit me recently that a year ago, I was a lowly editorial intern, making minimum wage at a book publisher. My boss was a year older than I, the head assistant editor who seemed so far ahead of me. I pulled out my journal today, which brought back all the memories. In the interest of nostalgia and because it relates to writing/jobs, I’m going to be posting my internship story over the next few days. If you’re at that breaking-into-writing/editing stage, I’d love to talk to you–if only for the empathy.

Here’s part one:

I sat in the animal-print chair, holding my canvas Barnes & Noble bag on my shoulder, clutching my umbrella, still wearing my jacket. It was my first day at a local book publisher that had agreed to take me on as an editorial intern. I thumped my black leather heel on the ground, partially out of nervousness, partially to shake the raindrops, and picked up a company catalog with my free hand, scanning to see if I recognized any titles.

“I don’t think she’s in yet,” Annie, the receptionist, said about my new manager Leah Robin, when I’d approached the front desk. “I’ll keep trying her phone.”

A year into my grad program, my favorite class was unquestionably Editing. I had taken it on an every-other-Saturday basis, earlier in the year. I remember that when I signed up for the class, friends were surprised. “Seven hours on a Saturday? Editing?” But my professor was animated, the discussions were fascinating, and the hours flew by. Our class spent entire afternoons discussing punctuation and grammar, and it was fun. My professor let us argue about sentences: “Should this be an en dash or a hyphen? Is ‘Renzo piano’ definitely an open compound?”

Rapidly, grammar and editing occupied even my free-time thoughts; I became one of those annoying people who find errors in the day’s newspaper or a favorite magazine. And that March, I got a freelance editing opportunity as a result of my new habit. I had contacted a local publisher about her magazine’s errors, and she’d hired me to correct them. For the magazine, I received sixty-some pages of proof to read and edit from my home in one day; then I returned them to the magazine’s office.

Fast forward a few months: summer was beginning, and I wasn’t planning to take any classes. Tossing around ideas for summer work, I wondered about an internship—but what kind? A teacher of mine suggested several companies; only one was located in the area: a small, independent book publisher just thirty minutes from my house. I researched them online and found they had an editing internship that would allow me to learn more about the publishing industry and also to refine my editing knowledge. I applied right away, but its summer positions were full. I applied again in August, and it took me.

“I guess she was here all along,” Annie peeked over her desk at me. “She’ll be right out. Do you want to put your lunch in the fridge?” I shook my head, not bothering to explain the bag I carried held my copies of The Chicago Manual of Style and Merriam-Webster Dictionary, not my afternoon meal.

In moments, Leah greeted me, clad in a comfortable shirt and blue jeans, and led me to my cubicle. “I tried to get you everything I thought you’d need,” she said, pointing to flags, post-its, pens, tissues, and a company copy of CMS. She’d even posted a “Welcome” sign on the cube’s wall. When I’d first met Leah, at my interview, I’d been surprised at how young she looked with her long blonde hair and trendy glasses frames. At the interview, too, she’d worn blue jeans; this company was definitely different than any I’d worked for before.

I set my things on the desk and followed Leah as she led me through the building. She introduced me to people in almost every department (IT, design, acquisitions, sales, human resources, printing) giving their names, though I knew I wouldn’t remember them. The company’s offices filled about half of a small, one-floor building and housed around sixty employees. Most departments held several cubicles, and only some department heads and executives had private offices. The central space, known as the “bullpen,” housed a sort of meeting place for the staff, where parties were held and announcements were given. The bullpen was also where the company’s cow, formerly one of Chicago’s many, resided. I later learned they’d actually beat out Oprah on the bidding for the literary bull. The bullpen, like the rest of the building, had a bright and cheerful feel—all red, orange, and yellow color choices. And nestled next to the cow and drums (what they used to call meetings—really!), a large fountain flowed serenely.

After touring the building, Leah and I returned to the editorial department and met in the media room. We spent the morning going page by page through the blue-binder editorial intern manual, which involved a review of key areas of The Chicago Manual of Style, as well as information about house rules that involved deviations from CMS or Merriam-Webster. For example, the company prefers “email” to “e-mail” and “U.S.” to “US.” Leah also gave me a typed sheet of comments previous interns had made at the end of their assignments. Several stood out to me immediately: “Eight hours of editing is tough!” “Really tedious work!” and “You are not a slow editor. Really. Take your time.”

The amount of information I was given in one day intimidated me at first: How would I remember the order of final checks? What were all the ARC tags again? Could I bring this binder with me everywhere? But Leah assured me that she didn’t expect me to know everything that day; I had time to learn and absorb the procedures. One day down; sixty-one to go.

the reality of dreams

An acquaintance of mine had a dinner party Friday night. She’s living in her parents’ home, where she has lived all her life, but now her entire family lives out of state. They moved about a month ago, leaving her to keep the historic, adorable house nice while real estate agents sometimes drop in with prospective buyers.

This acquaintance—well, friend, maybe now—is 23 or 24. She works as an accountant and makes $50K a year. Maybe because of her profession, maybe because of my interests, the subject of money came up a few times. Friend bought a couch, her first, last month and it should be delivered very soon. It’s her first furniture purchase.

When we ate the delicious soup she’d prepared, we sipped out of the cutest brown soup bowls you’ve ever seen, complete with a matching large bowl, from which to serve. She just got them at Crate & Barrel. She had green and white napkins, homemade bread and tiny silver spoons to go with coffee cups afterward. These items, along with her coming couch, are her beginnings of a home.

Friend has the unusual privilege of putting her first place together slowly, with the convenience of a home to live in while she collects. When the house sells, she’ll start renting, she says. The average price for a nice apartment/condo in the area: $800/month, not including utilities. She says that’s a little steep for her; she hasn’t been able to save much (!). But she’s got some time, which I relate to, and gets to wait and see what happens with the home sale.

Beyond the reminder about saving, the biggest thing I got from our chat was the fun in beginning to collect for a first place. Personally, I’m reluctant to rent for two years, when I could put that money away, planning for a home purchase. And even in two years, I won’t have the looming deadline above me, knowing my residence could be sold at any time. But I think I might start putting my dreams into action. I might start letting myself notice the dishes I love or the pitcher that catches my eye. It might be time to begin a little wish list.

Tip #4: Be Professional.

Once you’ve gotten the assignment(s), and things are going well, once you’re a feeling like a real writer and getting paid for what you’ve written, stay professional. Never forget when you’re a freelancer that you’re a freelancer. I’m always amazed at the demands freelancers try to make: they want a consistent workload, when we’ve told them we can’t give it; they want more money, when we have a set pay scale; they want payment faster, when we have a payment process; they want constant feedback, when we’re just too busy to give it. I’ve had freelancers who applied for a gig ask me to explain, in detail, why they weren’t selected. I’ve been told I’m too young, too defensive, too unhelpful–by freelancers.

Take this advice: treat your freelancing editor just like you would a boss, while realizing you are not a full-time employee and don’t get the benefits of being one. If your editor has time to chat with you regularly, great. But if he/she doesn’t, realize you are just a freelancer, and stay professional.

Tip #3: Be Your Editor.

Of course, get suggestions from writerly friends. Of course, workshop and listen to advice. But above all, be your own critic. Examine the genre you’re interested in writing for: is it nonfiction essays? Examine Best American and look for what sets those essays apart. Aim high! Realize that anyone with a basic command of the English language can put sentences, but you’re not just anyone: you’re a writer. You’re going to do better than that. Is it advertising copywriting? Take a look at what that agency is using and determine what they seem to choose.

Draft something and edit it. One of my best professors said it’s the editing that makes the best writing. Tweak, tweak, go for a walk, revise, revise. Then, when you’ve had your last look and you just *know*–that’s when you submit it.

Tip #2: Make a Portfolio.

I’ve mentioned this before, so I’ll avoid repeating myself about the hows of a portfolio. Right now, I want to talk about the importance. Part of getting yourself a steady gig (if that’s what you seek) is proving that you are talented. What’s a better way than showing?

As you build clips, save copies of them. The idea is to create a file, so to speak, about yourself that will knock the socks off a potential employer. When I was job-hunting, not only did I create an online portfolio that I could track hits on, but I also made individual hard-copy portfolios for interviews. If I were really interested in the job, I’d put this set of info in a report cover and make my cover letter the top sheet.

New Blog: The Writer’s Coin

Help me welcome The Writer’s Coin, a great, new writing/PF blog, to the blogosphere. I feel a special kinship with Author Nut, who feels a little like a long-lost sibling, even though I don’t know him personally. We are both from Chicago, both have MAs in Writing and both are in our twenties.

He’s looking to break into advertising, and his new site will chronicle a little of that, along with personal finance issues, freelance writing and other things. I’m adding him to my blogroll; I hope you do, too.

Tip #1: TRY

1. TRY or, cast your net widely.

What do I mean? Follow up with every lead for writing opportunities. If you’re serious about freelancing, you need to build a portfolio of clips. The best way to do this is by writing many things, in many different styles. Never written for a newspaper before? Chances are, your local weekly is looking for stringers. They’ll give you small assignments, but you’ll be building clips. Want to write for a magazine? Examine its style and pitch something that would fit. The point is: keep trying, trying, trying. Consider it research, not rejection, when something doesn’t work out.

Since I’ve become an editor, I’ve mentioned to three different budding-writer friends that I had an opportunity for them. Each one was interested at first, took my work contact info and then never followed through. I’d understand if they were pursuing other assignments instead, but each one just didn’t care enough to try. Opportunities don’t usually fall in your lap; go out and find them!

Tips for Freelancers

People often ask me for advice on freelancing. I’ll admit my experience is rather specific: I’ve done a few months of freelance newspaper reporting, one feature magazine article, an online travel essay and a narrative essay in a book. However, I manage freelancers now–in a copywriting environment–and I definitely know what we look for.

If you’re interested in learning how to get into this industry, how to stay in it and how to make your editor happy (at least if your editor is like me), stay tuned. The next few posts are just for you.

Another Update on the 5K

My friend–the one who runs marathons and who inspired me to start this training in the first place–told me months ago that there was only thing that could stop me from accomplishing my goal: an injury.

About three weeks ago, I felt a lot of tightness in my right ankle. I took a break for a day, felt better and ran again. Worse pain. I took a break for a weekend, felt OK and ran again. Worse pain. I took a week off. Couldn’t run. Took another week off. Still can’t run. So now I’m completely off my training schedule and unable to wear heels. How did this happen?

I’ve got a doctor’s appointment scheduled for the 24th (that’s the soonest they can take me). I’m pretty sure it’s just a pulled muscle, but I want official confirmation before I run on it again.