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: email@example.com.
Thanks for visiting. Leave me a comment. Come back often.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
One Post Does Not a Blogger Make
unrequited love and
line breaks that revealed the
Well, I'm glad those days are over. As my heartbeats dwindle and I edge closer to embracing the inevitable senility, I think of "one post does not a blogger make," and about a friend from a while back who wanted to be a published author. It helped that he knew an editor (me) who could help make his prose a bit more readable.
"Blue balls," I think, is the technical publishing industry term for what he had, although the phrase doesn't show up in Merriam-Webster's.* He was so eager to be a published author. No matter that it was essentially a vanity project, a collection of other writings of his, underwritten by a local business. No matter that many of the essays were likely derivative from public-speaking help books. What he ended up with was a little paperback that had his name and picture on the cover. He was a happy man . . .
While it lasted.
A year or so later, he comes to me for editing the second one. His reasoning: he didn't want to die and have "one-book author" on his gravestone.
*Merriam-Webster's note. I was talking to a writers group last year, and during my rant had displayed a copy of Merriam-Webster's 11th Collegiate. Afterward, a woman came up to me, very agitated/proud/indignant, because she wanted to show me what she had found in the very dictionary I was holding. She had managed to navigate her way to the 's' section, and had happened upon the word "shit." The general impression I got from her demeanor was that this was not a "family" type of book. I also gathered that she felt that she was kind of naughty for even reading this word, because certainly nothing she would ever voluntarily read would use that kind of language. I didn't want to point her to even choicer usages of the English language that appear in there. And now I find that "blue balls" doesn't appear. Disappointment.
So, if you don't know me, or don't know anyone who knows me, leave me a comment. Then I can put "blogger" on my tombstone. Or maybe I'll just tattoo it on my eyelids. Subliminal blogging. "Hey, what did that say?"