Time may be an illusion, but it can be a useful one. This week marks my birthday, and this year is an even decade after I opened my own editing and design firm in 2011. These milestones, however artificial, give me a chance to reflect on how I’ve grown this year.
But growth doesn’t always mean new external achievements. Sometimes it just means being braver than you were before. One guiding star I’ve used when measuring my growth has been this discussion of courage by Catherynne M. Valente:
When you are born … your courage is new and clean. You are brave enough for anything: crawling off of staircases, saying your first words without fearing someone will think you foolish, putting strange things in your mouth. But as you get older, your courage attracts gunk, and crusty things, and fear, and knowing how bad things can get and what pain feels like. By the time you’re half-grown, your courage barely moves at all, it’s so grunged up with living. So every once in a while, you have to scrub it up again and get the works going, or else you’ll never be brave again. [1]Valente, Catherynne M. The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making. New York: Feiwel & Friends, 2011.
I’ve tried to keep the idea of scrubbing up my courage in mind for several years now, always biting off a bit of something new that scares me but is worth doing anyway. Swallowing the fear keeps the gears greased.
So what have I done to grow this year? A lot of things. Here are some of the bookish ones.
Appeared as Special Guest for Editing for the LTUE Symposium
In 2020, before the shutdowns and runs on disinfectants, my new brave thing was participating in panels at conferences. I made it through a small, carefully selected bundle of panels.
This year I accepted an invitation to the Special Guest for Editing for the Life, the Universe, and Everything Symposium in Provo, Utah. It meant being on 3-5 panels per day of the conference plus a presentation on SFF copyediting and a 50-minute freeform chat with a small handful of attendees. The conference was all virtual, but it was still a stretch to do that many panels—on a wide variety of topics—in a three-day marathon.
What did I get out of it? Well, panels just aren’t that scary anymore. I dipped my toes last year and took a full plunge this year, and nothing sank me. Plus, I got to be on a panel with this year’s Hugo winner for best novel (Alaya Dawn Johnson) and found one of my kids’ new favorite authors (Kaela Rivera)!
You can see all the panels I was on during this year’s LTUE here on YouTube.
Dusted Off My Public Writing … & Submissions
It’s been many years since I practiced long-form writing. Sometime during my undergraduate degree, I realized that I enjoyed editing as much as I enjoyed writing and focused all my energy on my editing skills. Since then I’ve approached writing conferences, writing craft books, and all other professional development with an editor’s lens: how can I use this to help others with their writing?
But this year I applied a lot of those lessons to my own work. I’m not writing novels, but I’m at a stage in my career when it’s time to conscientiously pay my experience forward. It was time to start writing stuff I meant other people to read.
I pitched, wrote, and published Visual Grammar: Design Foundations for Editors with the Editorial Freelancers Association. I designed the Book Journey Map and wrote thousands of words explaining the basics of the writing and publishing process.
And in a particular triumph, I wrote a practitioner’s guidebook for genre-informed editing: Copyediting Immersive Science Fiction & Fantasy. At a smidge under 45,000 words, it explains the framework and guidelines I use to support authors’ creative approaches when copyediting SFF. I tackle issues like capitalization and italics for invented terms and also cover how to sustain a story’s linguistic consistency, how to support authors’ magic and technology creations, and how writers and editors can work well together to create a great book.
I started submitting Copyediting Immersive Science Fiction & Fantasy to publishers and agents. That has meant learning an entirely new submissions process. Although I’ve been researching and coaching writers through the submission process for fiction for a long time, nonfiction is a different animal.
So I did what I recommend all writers do: I read books, blog posts, and all the submission guidelines I could find for my genre; I considered what agents and publishers are looking for in a sellable book; and I submitted widely. I’ve even collected a tidy pile of rejections (some form rejections from agents and a nice set of encouraging personalized rejections from publishers). And I’ve stayed busy with other projects while waiting for responses. The book is still making the rounds, and I’ll keep the Looseleaf blog updated once there’s news worth an update.
(Re)Contacted More Publishers
When I first started Looseleaf in 2011, I was hungry for work. I sent my résumé everywhere, tailored my cover letter for every gig that paid a decent fee, and did my awkward best to network. In that spate of initial vigor, I even went to WorldCon in Reno (you can find Baby Kristy’s post-conference writeup here and here). And I tried to join publishers’ editing pools. Notably, I sent my cover letter and résumé to Tachyon, whose work on anthologies, short stories, and specialty projects from big-name authors appealed to me.
They didn’t add me to their pool. I was fresh to the industry, and though my skills were sharp, I probably wouldn’t have taken the risk on me then either.
It’s been some time since I sent a flood of résumés and cover letters to publishers. I’ve picked up a few publisher clients (DC Comics, Hollan Publishing, etc.), but haven’t pushed the issue. I’ve been delighted working with self-published authors, pre-submission writers, and hybrid-publishing pros. But this year I decided to scrub up my courage and try again.
And it’s paid off in a lot of big ways. Although Tachyon isn’t the largest publisher I’ve successfully contacted and worked for this year, I’m currently working on my first project for them … a full decade after my first contact with the Tachyon crew.
Accepted the Utah Editor of the Year Award
Back in April, I was nominated for the inaugural Editor of the Year award presented by the Utah Freelance Editors and the League of Utah Writers. The other nominees were amazing folks with sharp editorial skills, excellent business savvy, and strong work within the writing/editing community. Even though it meant being in the spotlight more (I’m pretty sure I’m allergic to spotlight), I accepted the nomination.
And I won.
But I figured that merely winning wasn’t a good use of the inaugural year of such a thing. I want this award to mean something for future recipients, to give them a weapon against the constant slights of imposter syndrome, to bolster their visibility and business prospects. So despite my natural inclination to downplay my achievements, I’ve tried to tout my being Utah’s Editor of the Year wherever I can.
I also wrote posts about running a sustainable editing business; curated the best advice the Utah Freelance Editors have to give about common issues in an editing business; and solicited other business-related content for the UFE blog. Because being a good editor is something most editors can sort out with enough time and practice, but the fiddly bits of being an entrepreneur are often in the third or fourth set of skills we set out to develop.
YOUR Courage-Cleaning Efforts
What have you done this year to scrub up your courage? Did you start drafting that story of your heart that’s always scared you? Did you send your first (or fiftieth) query letter? Did you join a writing group or attend your first (virtual or in-person) conference? Or did you simply find the will to keep putting one sentence after another, no matter how long it took, in the midst of a difficult year?
I want to hear about your courage! Post your successes in the comments!
References
| ↑1 | Valente, Catherynne M. The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making. New York: Feiwel & Friends, 2011. |
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Great stuff. I am very impressed with the 10-year anniversary of your business – my first entrepreneurial experience over a decade ago didn’t last a year and now being an indie author for a couple years now, well, it never gets any EASIER psychologically to battle obscurity and oblivion. I don’t mean to over state things, but, really, it’s tough. Congratulations.
Courage. I don’t recall who described it as being afraid and doing it anyway, but it rings true. And “the will,” as you say, “to keep putting one sentence after another…,” that I suppose, in its humble way, qualifies, too. It mostly doesn’t seem like enough, of course. We want to succeed in terms that go beyond our own contrived little victories. Contrived? It was Joseph Campbell who said, in reference to the mostly meager external rewards of the creative path, “we require so very little.” Anyway, here’s to that very little, such as it is for each of us, and here’s to your brave achievements, Kristy, and at least another decade of championing your inner fire. Thanks for reaching out.
Oh man, that psychological battle against obscurity is no joke! Continuing to write in the face of that definitely counts as courage in my mind. Here’s to more creative victories for you, Carnegie!