Matt said:
What things do you find exclusive to the educational publishing world that you don't see elsewhere in the industry?
I’ve worked in two separate areas of educational publishing — editing textbooks and readers for students, and editing publications for policy-makers, district and school leaders, and teachers. In this work, I’ve noticed that, not only are there aspects of educational publishing that are exclusive to this niche market, there are many aspects that are unique to the separate audiences within educational publishing.
Appealing to Multiple Personalities
Textbook publishing caters to very specific audiences that often know exactly what they are looking for; so the writing and marketing have to be carefully geared to these audiences’ well-defined wants and needs. Readers may very often just go looking for a new novel, or cookbook, or memoir, with an undefined idea of what they specifically want. Very seldom will teachers (or district leaders, or state curriculum designers) just go looking for a new textbook without knowing exactly want they need in that book. You need to clearly define how your books will meet the needs of that school’s or state’s curriculum, and how it will meet those needs better than previous editions.
Furthermore, textbooks are one of the few genres that are not purchased by the end audience. They have to have to appeal to at least three extremely different audiences simultaneously:
-the students (end audience) who will learn from the books, but never have the option to purchase that book versus another;
-the teachers who will use the books to deliver lessons, but also may have no choice in which book to use; and
-the curriculum specialists who will select the books for the schools, but may never use the books themselves.
So textbooks have to be written for one audience, but in a way that will appeal to a very different audience: the purchaser. Particularly in public education, textbooks will be chosen at the district or state level. So the audiences that use the books on a daily basis may have little input in purchasing the books. The books have to address students’ learning needs and teachers’ teaching needs; but before they can do that, they have to address the needs of the curriculum designers by addressing the appropriate content in an appealing manner. Very few other genres face the challenge of meeting such a wide variety of needs simultaneously, or appealing to an audience that will not be the end user of the book.
Appealing to Busy Personalities
The publications I’ve worked on for policymakers and district and school leaders have, in someway, faced fewer challenges in addressing audiences. For example, the challenge in creating a successful policy report is not addressing the right audience at the right state in the purchasing process; it’s getting the audience to actually read the document. State educational leaders, district superintendents, and school-level teachers are all bombarded with “the most pressing issue in education” on a regular basis. Multiple initiatives are always pulling them in different directions, promising solutions to educational crises. Whether you’re developing training materials for a professional development workshops or a research brief on the importance of quality career/technical education, to truly reach your audience in this market, you have to grab its attention and then immediately gain its trust. You have to establish yourself as a credible source with a proven record for improving education, not a flash-in-the-pan publisher that can only provide quick-fix solutions; and you have to do so before the next educational crisis comes along and steals your audience’s attention.
Improving Education through Educational Publishing
These two challenges — creating textbooks that appeal to both the purchaser and the reader, and gaining the attention of teachers and policymakers — are things I’m still trying to master. If you have experience in what makes a successful textbook or what teachers and policymakers need to hear in order to read a publication, I hope you will share some of your suggestions. Improving the information that reaches our policymakers and the educational materials that reach our students will only further improve education. And improving education, from public policy and legislation to classroom practices, is a critical issue that we all face.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Finding A Job in Publishing
Todd said:
Recently I have been applying for editing jobs in the Atlanta area. Can you talk about starting a career as an editor in the publishing industry?
Several readers asked questions that all relate to one basic idea: How can you get a job in publishing, particularly editing? I’ve never been in the position to hire an editor, and my two job-hunting experiences that ended in my two editing jobs were both long and difficult. So I can’t point you to the magic button that leads to a career as an editor. But I am happy to share a few tips that I picked up in those long, difficult searches.
- Avoid generic job-search engines. Chances are, you’re looking for a job in a very specific career or a very specific location (or both). So use job-search engines that will only give you options that fit your needs. The ajcjobs web site is a great place to start looking for metro-area positions, and usually has several openings for editors and writers. They may not be at a company that focuses specifically on publishing, but that’s true of many writing and editing jobs. (See the Publishing Is Everywhere post.) MediaBistro is a website that caters specifically to the different media industries, particularly publishing, and has a great job-search function. Many publishers utilize this website to reach potential employees who are looking for jobs specifically within publishing.
- If you can, work as many internships as possible — paid and unpaid. Experience makes a huge difference when you’re applying for a job. The more valuable experience you have, the faster your resume moves to the top of the pile. If you’re a teacher who has summers off and you think you may want to become an editor someday, work summer internships and produce as many clips as you can. If you’re a full-time graduate student, take advantage of the internships that the MAPW program offers. These are advertised throughout the year, and there are usually several available. Use this time to build your portfolio and your resume. Then when you’re ready to enter publishing fulltime, you’ve already built a strong case for yourself as a valuable employee.
- Don’t limit your search to typical publishers. Non-profit organizations, marketing firms, corporations all need the skills of good writers and editors. If what matters most is that you get to write and edit (and not that you work for a “publisher”), make sure you keep your job search options open. With non-profits particularly, chances are good that you’ll get more experience and more responsibility sooner than you would at a large publisher. (Again, see the Publishing Is Everywhere post.)
- Build relationships and follow up. You know the old adage: “It’s not what you know. It’s who you know.” But even that isn’t enough. When I was searching for an editing job in Atlanta, I had one helpful contact explain that “It’s not what you know. It’s not even who you know. It’s who they know.” And he was right. Make appointments for informational interviews with everyone who is willing to meet with you, even if they aren’t hiring. Explain that you’re trying to find a job in publishing (writing, editing, etc.), and you’d just like to meet with them to get some advice and ask some questions. Chances are, if they agree to meet with you for an informational interview, they will be willing to help you out in any other way they can. If they aren’t hiring, maybe they know someone who is. Or maybe they know someone who knows someone who is. When I got my job with SREB, I was about 10 degrees of separation from the person I had originally contacted. But I had a personal referral to the position and I was hired almost immediately to a job that was not widely advertised. I never would have known about the position if I hadn’t continued to seek informational interviews and follow up with my contacts.
You’ve probably heard some of this advice before, but I hope it will help point you in some new directions in your search. If you have more specific questions about the job search, just let me know and I’ll help in any way I can.
If You Don't Want to Write or Teach, Edit!
Katherine said:
What lead you to pursue a career in publishing? Did you plan it all throughout college or was it something you stumbled into?
If you are a graduate or undergraduate English student and you can’t imagine your ideal career path yet — or if you’re currently in an English-related profession that might not be your ideal career — don’t worry; you don’t have to become an English teacher or the next great American poet to keep pursuing your love of language (unless that’s what you want to do!).
If you majored in English in college, you probably heard this line at least once during your undergraduate experience: “Oh, so you’re going to teach?” Many English majors do go on to become teachers or professors, but that was never my goal. In fact, the only things I knew for sure when I declared my majors were that I didn’t want to do “creative writing,” and I didn’t want to teach.
Why Major In English If You Don't Want to Write?
At this point, you may be asking why I would consider majoring in English if I didn’t want to do the typical English-major writing (poetry, novels, plays, screenplays — they stereotypical “creative writing”, and I also didn’t want to do what most non-creative-writers (teach). I became an English major for the same reason that many liberal arts students become English majors: I liked a wide variety of subjects, I enjoyed writing (so long as it was nonfiction or creative nonfiction), and I loved studying language. As a freshman, this seemed perfectly fine. I didn’t need to pick a career – just a field of study! But at some point during my sophomore year, I realized that I would eventually need to find a career. During my junior year, I decided to minor in Economics Management and go into business management or finance. During my senior year, I realized that was a huge mistake.
You Can Have Your Writing, and Eat, Too!
I still had my Spanish and English majors to fall back on; but I couldn’t imagine a paying, non-teaching job as an English major. In the winter of my senior year, just as panic was truly setting in, someone suggested I apply to the Denver Publishing Institute. I applied to the six-week program, I was accepted, and I immediately realized what a huge variety of opportunities are available to English majors who want a steady paycheck. Four months after graduation, I began my first job as an assistant editor for an educational book producer, and I’ve been editing ever since. It is my ideal job. I get to spend my days working with language, I don’t have to deal with students, and I don’t have to write poetry! (No offense, poets — this is just one art form that I’d rather leave to the true artists.)
It still astounds me that I didn’t know about publishing opportunities until almost the point of graduation. The signs that I should pursue editing were always there — I enjoyed reading my peers’ papers and giving them feedback more than I enjoyed writing my own papers; I was (am) a stickler for grammar and conventions of language; I was (am) fascinated by all the available means of style and communication in our language. All of these habits and interests point straight to editing. But all I’d ever heard of was English-major writers and English-major teachers.
I hope you will not be limited by English-major pigeon-holing, and will continue to look into the great variety of careers for English majors until you find the right one. It may be in writing, or teaching, or publishing; or it may be in something completely different. Just remember that language is used everywhere, in every career field. So you just have to find the best place to pursue whatever it is you love most about English.
What lead you to pursue a career in publishing? Did you plan it all throughout college or was it something you stumbled into?
If you are a graduate or undergraduate English student and you can’t imagine your ideal career path yet — or if you’re currently in an English-related profession that might not be your ideal career — don’t worry; you don’t have to become an English teacher or the next great American poet to keep pursuing your love of language (unless that’s what you want to do!).
If you majored in English in college, you probably heard this line at least once during your undergraduate experience: “Oh, so you’re going to teach?” Many English majors do go on to become teachers or professors, but that was never my goal. In fact, the only things I knew for sure when I declared my majors were that I didn’t want to do “creative writing,” and I didn’t want to teach.
Why Major In English If You Don't Want to Write?
At this point, you may be asking why I would consider majoring in English if I didn’t want to do the typical English-major writing (poetry, novels, plays, screenplays — they stereotypical “creative writing”, and I also didn’t want to do what most non-creative-writers (teach). I became an English major for the same reason that many liberal arts students become English majors: I liked a wide variety of subjects, I enjoyed writing (so long as it was nonfiction or creative nonfiction), and I loved studying language. As a freshman, this seemed perfectly fine. I didn’t need to pick a career – just a field of study! But at some point during my sophomore year, I realized that I would eventually need to find a career. During my junior year, I decided to minor in Economics Management and go into business management or finance. During my senior year, I realized that was a huge mistake.
You Can Have Your Writing, and Eat, Too!
I still had my Spanish and English majors to fall back on; but I couldn’t imagine a paying, non-teaching job as an English major. In the winter of my senior year, just as panic was truly setting in, someone suggested I apply to the Denver Publishing Institute. I applied to the six-week program, I was accepted, and I immediately realized what a huge variety of opportunities are available to English majors who want a steady paycheck. Four months after graduation, I began my first job as an assistant editor for an educational book producer, and I’ve been editing ever since. It is my ideal job. I get to spend my days working with language, I don’t have to deal with students, and I don’t have to write poetry! (No offense, poets — this is just one art form that I’d rather leave to the true artists.)
It still astounds me that I didn’t know about publishing opportunities until almost the point of graduation. The signs that I should pursue editing were always there — I enjoyed reading my peers’ papers and giving them feedback more than I enjoyed writing my own papers; I was (am) a stickler for grammar and conventions of language; I was (am) fascinated by all the available means of style and communication in our language. All of these habits and interests point straight to editing. But all I’d ever heard of was English-major writers and English-major teachers.
I hope you will not be limited by English-major pigeon-holing, and will continue to look into the great variety of careers for English majors until you find the right one. It may be in writing, or teaching, or publishing; or it may be in something completely different. Just remember that language is used everywhere, in every career field. So you just have to find the best place to pursue whatever it is you love most about English.
The Disconnection Standard in Standardized Tests
Matthew said:
As I was reading your blog, I began to think about my high school experience in taking test, more specifically standardized test. While I usually succeeded on the test, I always found it strange the material I was tested on. There seemed to be a major disconnect between what I was learning in school and what I was being tested on with the standardized test. I understand now this was a lack of knowledge of the audience the test was made for. As a result, the standardized test never seemed to serve its purpose, which in my mind was to see how much I and the other students had learned. Do you have any experience with addressing these issues? If so, what initiatives are being done to correct the problem?
A Double-Edged Sword
Standardized tests are one of the most controversial issues in education, particularly in the high-stakes testing era that we are currently in. With the No Child Left Behind Act (another extremely controversial issue), the results of standardized tests now have huge implications not only for student achievement, but for schools’ success and their ability to get funding. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be any good way (yet) to ensure students are getting the education they should, without just giving them all the same test and seeing how they perform.
The tests are ideally designed and executed to measure students’ mastery and knowledge, but the material tested and the material students have been taught often seem disconnected. This disconnect isn’t the result of test-makers not understanding their audience; it’s a result of a lack of communication between test-makers, state departments of education, school districts, curriculum designers, teachers, and ultimately, students.
In my experience, standardized tests serve one of two main purposes: to measure students’ knowledge (tests such as the ACT and SAT, which are designed to just see how much you know) or to ensure understanding (state tests, which are designed to make sure schools are helping students master the state standards).
Measuring Students
Tests like the ACT, SAT in particular have direct ramifications for students more than for the students’ schools. True, the scores will be used to measure the success of the school. But they are not necessarily linked directly to the school’s report card, Adequate Yearly Progress (AYP) measurements, or funding. It is more difficult to teach directly to these tests, since they test a national group (rather than a state-specific group) and measure general understanding (rather than mastery of specific educational standards). Connecting such large-scale tests to specific classroom experiences is also an extremely challenging task, since the tests attempt to measure knowledge across the entire country. The test-makers, in this instance, have to set their own standards of what students should know and be able to do, and then measure students against these standards.
Measuring Schools
State testing is designed more as a check-up on students, teachers, and schools, to make sure students are being taught what the state has determined they should be taught. States set educational standards and then use state testing to see if students are meeting these standards. There should, ideally, be less disconnect between the test and the audience in this instance, because the standards being tested are the same standards that teachers are expected to teach in that state, and these standards are communicated directly to schools. The downside of this testing, though, is that many teachers feel constrained to “teach to the test.” They know what their students will be tested on, and they know that the students’ success or failure will tie directly to school funding and AYP. Many teachers feel that there is no room in the curriculum to do anything other than teach students to the test.
Making Standards Part of the Curriculum (Instead of the Curriculum)
SREB’s High Schools That Work initiative has recently published a guide to help teachers design lessons that lead to student mastery of standards, while still engaging students in authentic assignments and tasks that make learning more interesting. The publication, Planning for Improved Student Achievement: Ten Steps for Planning and Teaching Standards-Based Units walks teachers through a process for planning units of study that are built around state standards, but don’t just “teach to the test.” The intended outcome is a sort of “best of both worlds” goal, in which test-makers and test-takers both understand what should be tested, but teachers are able to do more than drill students with test materials.
Teachers Can Teach Us More
Standards-based planning and teaching is just one initiative that I know of to better connect standardized testing to true student understanding and knowledge. I’m sure there are many teachers who would be able to shed much more light on the complications of standardized testing and the high-stakes testing era, and I encourage you to weigh in on this subject. Like Matthew, I would love to know of other efforts and ideas to help make standardized testing a better measure of students’ knowledge.
As I was reading your blog, I began to think about my high school experience in taking test, more specifically standardized test. While I usually succeeded on the test, I always found it strange the material I was tested on. There seemed to be a major disconnect between what I was learning in school and what I was being tested on with the standardized test. I understand now this was a lack of knowledge of the audience the test was made for. As a result, the standardized test never seemed to serve its purpose, which in my mind was to see how much I and the other students had learned. Do you have any experience with addressing these issues? If so, what initiatives are being done to correct the problem?
A Double-Edged Sword
Standardized tests are one of the most controversial issues in education, particularly in the high-stakes testing era that we are currently in. With the No Child Left Behind Act (another extremely controversial issue), the results of standardized tests now have huge implications not only for student achievement, but for schools’ success and their ability to get funding. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be any good way (yet) to ensure students are getting the education they should, without just giving them all the same test and seeing how they perform.
The tests are ideally designed and executed to measure students’ mastery and knowledge, but the material tested and the material students have been taught often seem disconnected. This disconnect isn’t the result of test-makers not understanding their audience; it’s a result of a lack of communication between test-makers, state departments of education, school districts, curriculum designers, teachers, and ultimately, students.
In my experience, standardized tests serve one of two main purposes: to measure students’ knowledge (tests such as the ACT and SAT, which are designed to just see how much you know) or to ensure understanding (state tests, which are designed to make sure schools are helping students master the state standards).
Measuring Students
Tests like the ACT, SAT in particular have direct ramifications for students more than for the students’ schools. True, the scores will be used to measure the success of the school. But they are not necessarily linked directly to the school’s report card, Adequate Yearly Progress (AYP) measurements, or funding. It is more difficult to teach directly to these tests, since they test a national group (rather than a state-specific group) and measure general understanding (rather than mastery of specific educational standards). Connecting such large-scale tests to specific classroom experiences is also an extremely challenging task, since the tests attempt to measure knowledge across the entire country. The test-makers, in this instance, have to set their own standards of what students should know and be able to do, and then measure students against these standards.
Measuring Schools
State testing is designed more as a check-up on students, teachers, and schools, to make sure students are being taught what the state has determined they should be taught. States set educational standards and then use state testing to see if students are meeting these standards. There should, ideally, be less disconnect between the test and the audience in this instance, because the standards being tested are the same standards that teachers are expected to teach in that state, and these standards are communicated directly to schools. The downside of this testing, though, is that many teachers feel constrained to “teach to the test.” They know what their students will be tested on, and they know that the students’ success or failure will tie directly to school funding and AYP. Many teachers feel that there is no room in the curriculum to do anything other than teach students to the test.
Making Standards Part of the Curriculum (Instead of the Curriculum)
SREB’s High Schools That Work initiative has recently published a guide to help teachers design lessons that lead to student mastery of standards, while still engaging students in authentic assignments and tasks that make learning more interesting. The publication, Planning for Improved Student Achievement: Ten Steps for Planning and Teaching Standards-Based Units walks teachers through a process for planning units of study that are built around state standards, but don’t just “teach to the test.” The intended outcome is a sort of “best of both worlds” goal, in which test-makers and test-takers both understand what should be tested, but teachers are able to do more than drill students with test materials.
Teachers Can Teach Us More
Standards-based planning and teaching is just one initiative that I know of to better connect standardized testing to true student understanding and knowledge. I’m sure there are many teachers who would be able to shed much more light on the complications of standardized testing and the high-stakes testing era, and I encourage you to weigh in on this subject. Like Matthew, I would love to know of other efforts and ideas to help make standardized testing a better measure of students’ knowledge.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Working with Subjective Editing
Molly said:
One thing that has puzzled me about having my writing edited is that two different editors provide two very different kinds of feedback/revisions. I understand why this is. However, I wonder if there is a right way. For example, it has been drilled into my head to leave out "that" and "the" whenever possible. Sample sentence: Georgia legislators read minutes aloud at closing exercise. I have had edits come back to me to insert "the" back in. So, it would read: The Georgia legislators read the minutes aloud at the closing exercise. What have you seen most often and is there a more correct way or is it up to individual preference?
I recently interviewed a group of graduate students about their writing experiences during undergrad, particularly in composition courses. When asked what he learned in his freshmen writing courses, one student answered, “I learned that the opinions of what ‘good’ writing is are pretty subjective.” Frustrating as it may be, this statement holds true in professional writing and editing too, at least to some degree.
Black and White
There are certain editorial rules that hold true, no matter what. These include the grammatical rules that most writers know, but may not focus on to the same extent that an editor will. They are black-and-white, right-or-wrong rules that can be easily justified and explained, and are consistent across styles and publishers.
Dark Gray
While there are some rules that you’ll find wherever you go, there are others that will vary from publisher to publisher. These include things like comma usage (e.g., “a, b, and c” versus “a, b and c”), formatting (layout and design rules), and spacing (e.g., single or double space following a period). In addition to the no-matter-what rules, there are also house rules. A publisher will almost always have a “house style,” often built on the major, well-known styles (MLA, Chicago, APA, AP) with some modifications that are specific to that publisher. The rules may vary from publisher to publisher, but you should at least find consistency within a specific publisher.
Gray
Then there are the rules that can’t necessarily be justified by anything other than “because I said so.” At some point in the editing process, you will run into that specific editor’s personal preferences; and chances are extremely good that they’ll differ from your previous editors’ preferences. Some editors will want you to include “the” and “that” at all times, emphasizing clarity; others will want any extraneous words to be cut, focusing more on conciseness; still others will find a middle ground, including words such as “the” and “that” only when absolutely necessary (and of course, “absolutely necessary” will probably be at the editor’s discretion). At the end of the day, there are some decisions the editor will need to make subjectively, because no rule book or guide can possible address every potential scenario in language.
Working the Gray
I wish there was an easy way to say “this editor is right, that one is wrong.” But in many cases, there is no right or wrong, just personal preference. And since the buck has to stop somewhere, it often comes down to the editor’s subjective preference (which is hopefully based on some more clear-cut style or rule). While you might not be able to avoid this, you can definitely learn to work with it. When you’re dealing with new editors and they change something that you thought was correct, ask them about it. If a rule is unclear, the editor owes you an explanation so, at the very least, you know what to expect next time.
Another great way to approach the personal-preference issue is to act early. I’ve had several writers ask me what I’d like to do in certain scenarios before they begin writing, because they know that my answer may differ from the previous editor’s answer. This clears up the decision early in the writing process — avoiding lots of changes and corrections — and also gives us a chance to come to a collaborative decision. Writers often have better content knowledge than editors, and can provide valuable information to help set the style of the document.
You will always encounter varying opinions among editors about the “right” way to do things. And in many cases, the “right” way is just that editor’s way or that publisher’s way. But with some flexibility on both your part and the editor’s, you can work together to avoid the animosity that can develop when an editor is constantly “correcting” what the writer thought was correct.
One thing that has puzzled me about having my writing edited is that two different editors provide two very different kinds of feedback/revisions. I understand why this is. However, I wonder if there is a right way. For example, it has been drilled into my head to leave out "that" and "the" whenever possible. Sample sentence: Georgia legislators read minutes aloud at closing exercise. I have had edits come back to me to insert "the" back in. So, it would read: The Georgia legislators read the minutes aloud at the closing exercise. What have you seen most often and is there a more correct way or is it up to individual preference?
I recently interviewed a group of graduate students about their writing experiences during undergrad, particularly in composition courses. When asked what he learned in his freshmen writing courses, one student answered, “I learned that the opinions of what ‘good’ writing is are pretty subjective.” Frustrating as it may be, this statement holds true in professional writing and editing too, at least to some degree.
Black and White
There are certain editorial rules that hold true, no matter what. These include the grammatical rules that most writers know, but may not focus on to the same extent that an editor will. They are black-and-white, right-or-wrong rules that can be easily justified and explained, and are consistent across styles and publishers.
Dark Gray
While there are some rules that you’ll find wherever you go, there are others that will vary from publisher to publisher. These include things like comma usage (e.g., “a, b, and c” versus “a, b and c”), formatting (layout and design rules), and spacing (e.g., single or double space following a period). In addition to the no-matter-what rules, there are also house rules. A publisher will almost always have a “house style,” often built on the major, well-known styles (MLA, Chicago, APA, AP) with some modifications that are specific to that publisher. The rules may vary from publisher to publisher, but you should at least find consistency within a specific publisher.
Gray
Then there are the rules that can’t necessarily be justified by anything other than “because I said so.” At some point in the editing process, you will run into that specific editor’s personal preferences; and chances are extremely good that they’ll differ from your previous editors’ preferences. Some editors will want you to include “the” and “that” at all times, emphasizing clarity; others will want any extraneous words to be cut, focusing more on conciseness; still others will find a middle ground, including words such as “the” and “that” only when absolutely necessary (and of course, “absolutely necessary” will probably be at the editor’s discretion). At the end of the day, there are some decisions the editor will need to make subjectively, because no rule book or guide can possible address every potential scenario in language.
Working the Gray
I wish there was an easy way to say “this editor is right, that one is wrong.” But in many cases, there is no right or wrong, just personal preference. And since the buck has to stop somewhere, it often comes down to the editor’s subjective preference (which is hopefully based on some more clear-cut style or rule). While you might not be able to avoid this, you can definitely learn to work with it. When you’re dealing with new editors and they change something that you thought was correct, ask them about it. If a rule is unclear, the editor owes you an explanation so, at the very least, you know what to expect next time.
Another great way to approach the personal-preference issue is to act early. I’ve had several writers ask me what I’d like to do in certain scenarios before they begin writing, because they know that my answer may differ from the previous editor’s answer. This clears up the decision early in the writing process — avoiding lots of changes and corrections — and also gives us a chance to come to a collaborative decision. Writers often have better content knowledge than editors, and can provide valuable information to help set the style of the document.
You will always encounter varying opinions among editors about the “right” way to do things. And in many cases, the “right” way is just that editor’s way or that publisher’s way. But with some flexibility on both your part and the editor’s, you can work together to avoid the animosity that can develop when an editor is constantly “correcting” what the writer thought was correct.
Publishing Is Everywhere
Jamie said:
The publishing industry doesn't seem to be that large in the Atlanta area. Do you know of any local companies whose main focus is publishing, or who have a serious need for editors and the like?
There is a very common perception that, to really “make it” in the publishing industry, you have to move to New York. And, depending on what you want to do in publishing, a move to New York could definitely boost your chances of finding that dream job, and may be inevitable. Almost all of the larger publishing houses are located there, especially as mergers and acquisitions continue to shrink the number of independent companies and bring them all under umbrella companies. If you want to work for one of the mainstream publishing houses, editing and publishing the next bestseller, you will fare much better up north. But that in no way means you can’t work in publishing from your current location, especially in a larger city such as Atlanta.
The truth is, if you’re willing to expand your search a little, you’ll find publishing opportunities all over Atlanta. I don’t mean lowering your standards; I just mean thinking outside the book. When thinking of publishing, many people’s minds jump straight to the dream of writing/editing/marketing the next great American novel. This is a wonderful dream (one that I share, to some extent). But it’s not the only way to find work you love in the publishing industry. Whether you’re just looking to break into the industry and gain experience, find a publishing job without crossing the Mason Dixie line, or just work in a more specialized field within publishing, you can find plenty of alternatives to the huge publishing houses.
- Independent/niche publishers: The big houses may have cornered the more general markets, but they can’t speak to all of the smaller niche markets. This is where many independent publishers step in and steal market share. Peachtree Publishers has been producing children’s’ and teens’ books in Atlanta for thirty years. Hill Street Press specializes in southern-related trade books, a market that demands a southern location. InnerLight Publishing is a female-owned local publisher that specializes in books by black, female, and/or gay and lesbian authors.
- Magazines and news media: Magazines such as Atlanta Magazine and Jezebel garner larger readerships by focusing on the local market, and need editors, writers, and graphic designers just as much as national magazines. Media outlets such as Turner Broadcasting System, Inc. and the Atlanta Journal Constitution also offer opportunities for publishing-related careers in companies that may not immediately come to mind when thinking of the publishing industry.
- Newsletter and informational publishers: Local companies such as Ardmore Publishing and Strafford Publications produce informational materials such as newsletters. These might not be what you would think of as traditional publishers, but companies such as these are an excellent place to look for publishing experience in a local market. And if you’re lucky, you’ll find a local company that caters to a market that particularly interests you; Ardmore, for example, specializes in medical and legal newsletters.
- Non-profit organizations: These are companies whose primary focus may not be publishing, but who publish materials in order to meet their primary purpose. The Southern Regional Education Board, for example, primarily focuses on improving education by working with state, local, and school and teacher leaders. One of its main forms of communication is through publications such as policy reports, guides, and research briefs. Each of these publications has to be researched, well-written, edited, and designed, just like any other publication from a publishing house. The American Cancer Society is one of several large non-profit organizations located in Atlanta, all of which are worth looking into for career opportunities in publishing.
I agree with Jamie that Atlanta doesn’t seem to have a very large publishing industry, if you’re primarily interested in the typical large publishing houses that many people think of when considering publishing. But if you’re willing to expand your topic, format, or employer options, you can find a wealth of publishing opportunities in Atlanta. By looking beyond “the next great American novel,” you might find your next great Atlanta publishing career.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Knowing When Your Document Is "Finished"
Elizabeth said:
Working as a technical writer, editing is a huge part of my job. I edit my own work and often edit the work of others. The hardest part of editing (for me) is closing the Word file and saying "done!" Half the time I'm forced to be done due to a deadline. But often I find myself reading the piece over and over again, boggled with edits I didn't notice the read before. What advice do you have on walking away from something you're editing and considering it finished?
Is it ever?
The truth is, in any area of publishing, a document is never, truly finished. No matter how skilled the editing team is, it will leave some typo unnoticed, some inconsistency uncorrected. It’s human error. And even if all minor errors are corrected and the document is printed in “perfect” condition, there is always room to improve or revise the document as future opportunities and needs arise. But this does not answer Elizabeth’s real question, nor is it the answer I’m sure you want to hear. The real question at hand is not when a document is finished; it’s when a document is considered finished. And that question has a much simpler, more precise answer: A document is considered finished when you know you have done all you can do with it in the time allotted.
Using the Deadline to Your Advantage
One of the most — and least — convenient aspects of working in publishing is the deadline. It is the marker by which schedules are set, work plans are arranged, and tasks are divided. Unfortunately, it also an ever-looming, ever-moving target. You have undoubtedly worked under tight deadlines; and you have almost definitely watched at least one come and go, with no completed project.
Still, the deadline is a truly effective tool when you view it as your ally. Are you having trouble getting the writer to send you material? “We have a deadline to meet.” Is the production team dragging its feet and burying your project? “We have a deadline to meet.” Let the deadline play the “bad cop” in your mission to complete a successful document.
This holds true in your own work as well — and if you have trouble letting go, this is a strategy you’ll want to use with yourself perhaps more than with others. If you tend to keep going over and over the same material, remind yourself that you have a deadline to meet. The document may never be perfect in your eyes; but what matters is that it is perfect in the readers’ eyes. And it can’t be perfect in their eyes unless you meet your deadline and get the document out to your readership.
The “Drop-Dead” Date
I personally like to take deadlines very seriously; I respect their intended definition as the point by which the document must be done. But a more accurate, and more widely accepted, definition is “the first offer in series of negotiations.” The deadline is originally set as the target date — the goal or ideal end point. As work piles up and the original date becomes less realistic, negotiations begin in earnest between writers, editors, designers, and printers. The end result of such negotiations is the “drop-dead date” — the date at which the document must go to its next destination (editing, production, printing, etc.), or the project will die…or the date on which, if you show up empty handed, you do so at your own mortal risk.
Like the original deadline, the drop-dead date can actually be quite beneficial in the editing process. For editors in particular — who have a penchant for re-reading the same paragraph until they are convinced every word in it is somehow misspelled — this date provides a forced resolution to Elizabeth’s question. The document must be considered “finished” on the drop-dead date, because you don’t have another option. The drop-dead date can provide closure, assuming you are able to meet it with the knowledge that you've done your job well, and the document is ready.
Walking Away
Perhaps the most difficult step in the editing process is not accepting the deadline, or even meeting the deadline, but rather walking away from the deadline and the document. As writers and editors, we are all lovers of language. And truly loving and appreciating the power of language comes with an understanding that it can almost always be better. This understanding drives us to constantly improve; but it can also tie us to a project longer than necessary. You have to consider the document “finished” when you know that you have done all that is necessary to ensure the document reaches the audience and communicates your intended message. Typos may remain; inconsistencies may persist. But when you have improved all you can within the parameters of that project, you must convince yourself that you have finished, and move on to the next project with your full attention.
Working as a technical writer, editing is a huge part of my job. I edit my own work and often edit the work of others. The hardest part of editing (for me) is closing the Word file and saying "done!" Half the time I'm forced to be done due to a deadline. But often I find myself reading the piece over and over again, boggled with edits I didn't notice the read before. What advice do you have on walking away from something you're editing and considering it finished?
Is it ever?
The truth is, in any area of publishing, a document is never, truly finished. No matter how skilled the editing team is, it will leave some typo unnoticed, some inconsistency uncorrected. It’s human error. And even if all minor errors are corrected and the document is printed in “perfect” condition, there is always room to improve or revise the document as future opportunities and needs arise. But this does not answer Elizabeth’s real question, nor is it the answer I’m sure you want to hear. The real question at hand is not when a document is finished; it’s when a document is considered finished. And that question has a much simpler, more precise answer: A document is considered finished when you know you have done all you can do with it in the time allotted.
Using the Deadline to Your Advantage
One of the most — and least — convenient aspects of working in publishing is the deadline. It is the marker by which schedules are set, work plans are arranged, and tasks are divided. Unfortunately, it also an ever-looming, ever-moving target. You have undoubtedly worked under tight deadlines; and you have almost definitely watched at least one come and go, with no completed project.
Still, the deadline is a truly effective tool when you view it as your ally. Are you having trouble getting the writer to send you material? “We have a deadline to meet.” Is the production team dragging its feet and burying your project? “We have a deadline to meet.” Let the deadline play the “bad cop” in your mission to complete a successful document.
This holds true in your own work as well — and if you have trouble letting go, this is a strategy you’ll want to use with yourself perhaps more than with others. If you tend to keep going over and over the same material, remind yourself that you have a deadline to meet. The document may never be perfect in your eyes; but what matters is that it is perfect in the readers’ eyes. And it can’t be perfect in their eyes unless you meet your deadline and get the document out to your readership.
The “Drop-Dead” Date
I personally like to take deadlines very seriously; I respect their intended definition as the point by which the document must be done. But a more accurate, and more widely accepted, definition is “the first offer in series of negotiations.” The deadline is originally set as the target date — the goal or ideal end point. As work piles up and the original date becomes less realistic, negotiations begin in earnest between writers, editors, designers, and printers. The end result of such negotiations is the “drop-dead date” — the date at which the document must go to its next destination (editing, production, printing, etc.), or the project will die…or the date on which, if you show up empty handed, you do so at your own mortal risk.
Like the original deadline, the drop-dead date can actually be quite beneficial in the editing process. For editors in particular — who have a penchant for re-reading the same paragraph until they are convinced every word in it is somehow misspelled — this date provides a forced resolution to Elizabeth’s question. The document must be considered “finished” on the drop-dead date, because you don’t have another option. The drop-dead date can provide closure, assuming you are able to meet it with the knowledge that you've done your job well, and the document is ready.
Walking Away
Perhaps the most difficult step in the editing process is not accepting the deadline, or even meeting the deadline, but rather walking away from the deadline and the document. As writers and editors, we are all lovers of language. And truly loving and appreciating the power of language comes with an understanding that it can almost always be better. This understanding drives us to constantly improve; but it can also tie us to a project longer than necessary. You have to consider the document “finished” when you know that you have done all that is necessary to ensure the document reaches the audience and communicates your intended message. Typos may remain; inconsistencies may persist. But when you have improved all you can within the parameters of that project, you must convince yourself that you have finished, and move on to the next project with your full attention.
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