Back in the saddle

Failed already, then. I was planning to post a blog every Friday (or as near as I could manage), but have slipped after only three weeks. There are mitigating circumstances, though.

January went by in a blur of campaigning for the local by-election. I was lucky enough to go to the count, and it was fascinating to see the democratic process at work, as bundles of voting papers were opened, unfolded, sorted, counted, then sorted again and re-counted. Goodness me, though, it was hard work getting to that point.

The week after that I decided I really ought to do some housework (I know!) and maybe stock the fridge again. There was work to catch up on, too. I'd been keeping things ticking over - a proof read here, an email sent there - but a client's 90,000-word manuscript kept tugging at my sleeve for attention. I'm pleased to say that I've made a good start on this book now and it's going well. I really should be working on it this morning, but this blog was saying 'Over here!'

The other project that has taken some of my energy is that I have finally sorted the paperback edition of my walking book, Jurassic Way. It's been a long slog, but has already had some interest and I think, overall, it's been worth it. Anyway, have a look and see what you think. If you like it, please leave a review; if you don't, then - er - keep quiet!

Watford, Northants - yes, as in Watford Gap

The question is: what shall I do next?

What time is it?

Time is a funny old thing. One of the reasons we have station clocks is because in 1840 the Great Western Railway introduced so-called railway time to overcome the problems caused by each town in the expanding railway network having its own local mean time. The clocks showed passengers what this unified time was.

I don't know about you, but time has lost all meaning in our house. It is apparently Thursday and I gather that tomorrow it will be May. I've just had a cheese and pickle sandwich, but I couldn't tell you if it was lunch or just a little something to tide me over until the next meal, whatever that will be.

References to dates in books can lead to unintended results. In the entry for 22 March in A Sparge Bag on the Washing Line, I wrote: ‘We hear that Brexit is to be delayed. I can’t bring myself to go into details here – and anyway by the time you’re reading this it will all have been resolved and we shall be looking back on these crazy times, laughing and saying, “What were we thinking!”’

On 10 March, I was interviewed by Andy Gibney of 3P Publishing for The Writer's Hut podcasts. I mention the date because if/when you listen, you will hear Andy joking that by the time the recording goes out we will all have forgotten about coronavirus. Yeah, about that...

If you'd like to listen to the podcast in which I talk about my writing and editing life and various other bits and pieces - Andy is a great interviewer - you can find it here.

Editorial decisions

One of the joys of being a jobbing wordsmith is that I never know what is going to turn up next. At the moment, I'm working on two children's fiction books, which is a bit of a departure for me. I have, though, made it clear to both authors that I shall be reading with a sub's eye, and am not equipped to input anything regarding structure and so on that a 'proper' fiction editor might, beyond elements that any mother or reader would notice.

This is an important distinction. When clients come to me with a project and they ask me to proofread it, I always ask them to clarify what they think that means. Do they want me to mark only spelling mistakes and punctuation slips, or would they like me to look for consistency, syntax howlers and plain old mistakes? My hourly rate is the same, whatever they want. I'm using the same brain, after all. The brief needs to be clear, though, or I could waste my time or overstep the mark - and the bill could be much higher than expected.

Likewise, if I'm asked to edit something. Does this mean spelling, grammar, consistency, formatting to style, fact-checking: how far am I to go? The best customers are those who give me free rein to fix anything I notice: the worst are those who assure me the text is 'pretty much OK', only for me to discover it's actually a bit of a nightmare.

Back to the children's books. The one I'm working on today has been read by many of the author's supportive friends and relatives who have all made (mostly encouraging) suggestions. It has also been shown to a librarian and I have seen the comments she has made, which are very incisive, as might be expected. What interests me is that she has only remarked on the story and not the writing, which is where I come in, I suppose.

What's on your CV?

Cheers, Norm!

A potential client asked to see my CV the other day. This threw me. Most of the work I do is freelance assignments that have come my way by word of mouth: perhaps an editor I have worked with will be approached to do a job he doesn’t have time for – or just doesn’t fancy – and passes it on to me. I can’t remember the last time anyone asked to see my credentials.

So it was a good excuse to look over what I’ve done and to update my records. I have two versions of my CV. One has on it everything that I have ever done, all the way back to the schools I attended. No one is ever going to want to know that, of course, but I might be glad it’s written down somewhere when my memory starts to go – or perhaps – ahem – I’ll become famous enough for someone to want to write my biography and they might be glad of the basics.

I’ve also got a shorter version that outlines all the publishing and word-related jobs I’ve done over the years. These days you need a relevant degree to get into publishing, but I sneaked in through the back door. I was secretary to an editor in a company producing part works. Did you ever collect recipe cards that were delivered by the postman in handy monthly instalments? Chances are they came from Odhams Leisure, and that’s where I first picked up a red pen. When my boss left, I took over her job and found that my nitpicking approach to spelling and punctuation, combined with an inherent desire to control everything around me, made me a born editor.

I’ve never looked back. I’ve worked on all manner of topics, from motor racing to crochet, from gardening to steam engines. If only I’d retained everything I’d read, I’d be a shoe-in on The Million Pound Drop! Sadly, although I’m fully immersed in the subject while I’m doing the job, as soon as it’s done I forget most of it.

I suppose it was inevitable that I should gravitate towards writing my own stuff. My CV records that I once wrote something for a magazine published by the Diocese of Peterborough. I can’t for the life of me remember what it was! I’ve also compiled crosswords, some cryptic or general knowledge, but others for marketing use or company magazines, including on the themes of Shakespeare, Lincolnshire - and yoghurt. Never let it be said that I’m not versatile!

It’s been good to take a walk down memory lane. When I left school I had no idea what I wanted to do or where I wanted to end up. Now here I am, broadcasting over the internet – which we didn’t even have when I set off on my work life journey. As Fatboy Slim put it, ‘You’ve Come A Long Way, Baby’.

Work and muscles!

I seem to have struck a chord with my comments about the B&Q pensioner. There was an anonymous follow-up in the local paper describing this man as ‘selfish’ – but another one saying ‘Well done, B&Q.’ I guess it depends where you are in the great scheme of employment things.

On a more positive note, Sam went for an interview yesterday: fingers crossed. He has also decided that he can at least put his Creative Writing degree to some use by starting his own blog, ‘The Rock From Saint Helens’ (http://rfsh.wordpress.com/, which should keep his artistic juices flowing.

As for me, I’ve had a sudden influx of editorial work: a job from each of two clients whom I thought had forgotten about me. So what with that and writing my yoga lesson plans, I’m having a busy and satisfying week.

Where would you be without your piriformis!

I’m also doing a bit of research into the workings of the piriformis muscle, as one of my yoga friends is having problems with hers. The trouble with anatomy is that it’s so darned fascinating. One muscle leads to the other and before you know it, an hour has passed.