What It Is (posts below left; rate sheet, client list, other stuff below right)

My name is Bob Land. I am a full-time freelance editor and proofreader, and occasional indexer. This blog is my website.

You'll find my rate sheet and client list here, as well as musings on the life of a freelancer; editing, proofreading, and indexing concerns and issues; my ongoing battles with books and production; and the occasional personal revelation.

Feel free to contact me directly with additional questions: landondemand@gmail.com.

Thanks for visiting. Leave me a comment. Come back often.

Sunday, April 24, 2016

State of the Mascot

1 yr., 1 mo.

Approx. 35 (very stubborn) pounds--yes, indeed, she's turned out to be a miniature basset. I was talking with a guy last week whose girlfriend just had to have a basset, so they now have 10-week-old Duke, whose father weighs 125 pounds. I cannot imagine what you do when the basset sits and refuses to walk, which happens not infrequently. This little bundle of joy can turn into a stack of cinder blocks at the drop of a hat. 

Monday, April 18, 2016

The Days Do Pass

Twenty-ninth wedding anniversary today. My wife received what I think is the modern 29th-anniversary gift: a retractable/extendable back scratcher.

We're also getting our 160,000-mile Prius detailed and going to ATL for the weekend. I'm already getting vibes that the 30th anniversary is going to be a little different. Yeah, well.

Holidays line up as follows:

December: Christmas/Hanukkah
February: Valentine's Day
March: Birthday (hers); birthday (his)
April: Anniversary
May: Mother's Day
June: Father's Day

Our anniversary falls right after tax day, so I'm usually a wreck before and after anyway. After dinner tonight, Tere reminded me that our wedding took place on the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter to accommodate my mother's teaching schedule. On a bunch of different accounts, I can't imagine what we were thinking about.

For the Good Friday rehearsal dinner (Jeez Louise), we had it catered by Home Folks, a now-long-gone barbecue joint in Jackson, GA. (Great story was eating there with some state troopers who'd recently come from an execution; Georgia's Old Sparky is in Jackson.) Well, it being Friday, my wife's brother and sister-in-law (Catholics) couldn't eat the pork barbecue (the Jews had no problem), especially because it was Good Friday. One of my groomsmen, who happened to work in the food bidness, had to arrange some fish dinners.

Yes, folks, I used to have dark hair (see below). That would be my brother the proofreader also seated. He still has all his hair (turns 61 this year) and has put on quite a few more kilos.

DH Bond, where are you?

Friday, April 8, 2016

You Read It Here First

Or maybe not. AP sez "internet" is lowercased as of June 1, 2016.

A lot's actually happened since the last post. In no particular order, trip to Chicago that included seeing son no. 1 perform, a few other wild cultural events, and a trip to the Baha'i Temple north of Chicago, which is simply breathtaking.

And it's also possible to experience peace. I know because I've had the same feeling in two similar but wildly disparate places: the Baha'i Temple and -- can you guess, longtime readers -- the Abbey of Gethsemani in Trappist, KY. Tere and I were walking very slowly around the outside of the temple in the dormant gardens area (probably exploding soon) and I leaned over and said, "Feel that? . . . That's what Gethsemani feels like." And she said, "I get it."

Don't want to jinx anything, but I've felt oddly peaceful since that day. I'll take it lasting a while longer.

Good news is rumbling on the Fred Neil front. Just saying.

A fascinating linguistic moment in Chicago. We were at a staging (not exactly a performance) of The Last Defender, which entails a team of 16 working together to prevent nuclear annihilation. Without giving anything away (I hope; the show has been extended five or six months from its original date), at one point people need to line up and hook themselves together. The young woman (say, 30 years old) next to me said to everyone else, "Those of you with the receptive end, get ready."

I leaned over (I do a lot of leaning over and talking to women, I guess) and said, "Very good. 'Receptive.' I never would have come up with that." And she said, "I had to say something, and that was the best I could do."

Folks, a few years from now electrical outlets or tools or what have you won't have a male and a female end anymore.

Oh! Younger son and fiance will be teaching outside Denver in the fall. Haven't even graduated yet. Everyone is most pleased and proud. Son no. 2 is going to be teaching 11th-grade English. His kids are in for a ride.

I think I got on here to do something else.