The Exciting Life of an Editorial Assistant
So, here I am, working a “real” job.
My company is in a northern suburb of Chicago, and it’s a two-part business. It was originally started by a guy - a scientist - who built and sold scientific equipment. Then he started publishing scientific journals. Then he retired, and, Lear-like, split the business in half and gave each half to a son. So now we have, basically, two separate businesses under one roof: Polyscience, the part that manufactures the scientific equipment, and Preston Publications, the part that publishes the science journals. The publishing side has expanded to include two boat magazines and a photo magazine. So within the split company, there are really three workspace splits as well: there is the “cubicle farm” (“Section A”) just past the entrance, where all the paeans work, surrounded by the offices of those who rate. The pubs people in the cubicle farm are with the boat books; all others are subscriptions, ad sales, etc. Then, along the hallway is what we call “Section B.” This is where the science and photo journal people work, plus the graphics department. Then, continuing along the hallway, are the restrooms and then a big door. Through the door is the lunchroom, and the factory. Although the Polyscience people work in the same building, there is really no inter-company contact. Additionally, I deal with very few people on a daily basis. There’s Michael, my direct supervisor and the editor of the Journal of Chromatographic Science (technically, the Journal of Analytical Toxicology editor is also my supervisor, but she’s on maternity leave and also not very nice); he has the office next to mine. I’m friendly with the photo editor and the head of graphics, but we don’t necessarily stop into each other’s offices to visit. Aside from random encounters with people I may or may not know on my way to the restroom or drinking fountain, that about covers it. So it’s basically the complete opposite of my last job, which is sometimes nice and sometimes depressing. After all, I have NO friends here aside from AK.
The building is long, flat, unimpressive, and brick on the outside, and very industrial on the inside. Grey walls, doors, and carpet. The publishing brother is a photography enthusiast, so there are a number of prints on the wall that somehow don’t even make a dent in the unending greyness. It’s a bit dismal, unfortunately.
Despite the lack of social contact, it is, I must admit, a pretty sweet gig for me. I have my own office. Admittedly, it’s just as dismal as the rest of the building, but I have brightened it up with a poster of the Periodic Table and some really old photos that I found in one of the endless, ancient filing cabinets. I have my own computer, an iMac with barely a year on it, the screen of which cannot be seen by anyone but myself. (Also, Michael has assured me that there is no way anyone’s checking up on our computer-y activities, and if they were, he would have disabled any spyware long ago while he was the Editorial Assistant.) No one can sneak up on me and ask why I’m checking my email, playing a stupid game, reading webcomics, or catching up on neil’s journal instead of working. (Side note: Stephen Fry has a blog now! Awesome!) This also introduces an element of self-discipline into my time, which I suppose is nice: I should always be trying to better myself instead of reading webcomics, right? Riiiiiiiight. Plus, the chain of command is very nice. Above me, there’s Michael, and then the brother who owns this half of the company, and that’s it. And the bro is not around very much; nor does he pay attention to much when he is around. Michael is cool, and has a fairly rebellious nature, so instead of eating lunch in the dismal lunchroom, we go to Starbucks with our sandwiches and shoot the breeze for usually longer than our lunch hour. Sometimes the photo editor comes along, which is cool, and usually stretches lunches even longer.
My job entails:
(1) Formatting manuscripts that have been submitted to the journals. We have a website where scientists can just create an account and submit their paper. When they’ve gone through the approval and peer review stages, it’s my job to get the paper and put it into the proper format for the journal. This includes removing any glaring errors and making sure it won’t kill Quark when it’s uploaded.
(2) Editing manuscripts that have been formatted. Yes, I actually have to read these things and ensure that they make sense. This is harder even than you might think, because in addition to being densely scientific, they are often written by someone whose first language is not English. We have papers submitted from all over the world, most often China and Eastern Europe. In fact, I’m entering corrections on a paper from Poland right now. Here is a typical sentence before I edited it: “Procedure of urine samples preparation for calibration curve was the same like procedures in following point.” Even when we get papers from the US, I often have to remind myself that all of these authors have multiple PhDs; just because they don’t know grammar doesn’t make them morons.
(3) Entering corrections on papers that have been edited. Every paper is edited by me and then Michael, just to make sure we’ve caught the biggest mistakes. Then I go through and read both of our chicken-scratch proofreaders’ marks and make all of the changes.
(4) Checking galley proofs. Michael is the one who does the final formatting in Quark; when he’s done, I look over the finished product and highlight any changes that still need to be made, then I send them to the author.
(5) Random correspondence. Reprint orders, copyright permissions, “when will my paper be published” questions are all my domain. So are sending out comp copies of the journals to authors who have been published that month.
(6) Writing A-pages, which means taking press releases that are relevant to our journals (most of the press releases we receive are emphatically NOT relevant) and removing all of the PR language so that we can publish the information. For example, if the press release says, “Waters, the internationally renowned producer of your favorite GC equipment, announces the release of an exciting new chromatography column which you cannot do without because it will reduce analysis time by an amazing six hours”, I make it say, “Waters announces the release of a new chromatography column which will reduce analysis time by six hours.”
(7) That’s about it, aside from a few other random things I can’t think of right now.
I am definitely picking up some of this stuff, to the point where they took some stuff to be analyzed in a lab on Mythbusters and I said, “Hey, they’re using a mass spectrometer!” In fact, the Journal of Analytical Toxicology has been on CSI; it was sitting on the table of a lab at some point. And no, it’s not the most exciting stuff to read, and sometimes I think my brain is turning into ooze. BUT at least my brain is turning into ooze because I’m using it, whereas the opposite was true on ships: then, I thought I was getting stupider.
In any case, this is a stepping stone towards book publishing, which is where I’d rather be. That is, unless I publish a book myself, become famous, and quit to write full-time. Ahhh, someday.
My company is in a northern suburb of Chicago, and it’s a two-part business. It was originally started by a guy - a scientist - who built and sold scientific equipment. Then he started publishing scientific journals. Then he retired, and, Lear-like, split the business in half and gave each half to a son. So now we have, basically, two separate businesses under one roof: Polyscience, the part that manufactures the scientific equipment, and Preston Publications, the part that publishes the science journals. The publishing side has expanded to include two boat magazines and a photo magazine. So within the split company, there are really three workspace splits as well: there is the “cubicle farm” (“Section A”) just past the entrance, where all the paeans work, surrounded by the offices of those who rate. The pubs people in the cubicle farm are with the boat books; all others are subscriptions, ad sales, etc. Then, along the hallway is what we call “Section B.” This is where the science and photo journal people work, plus the graphics department. Then, continuing along the hallway, are the restrooms and then a big door. Through the door is the lunchroom, and the factory. Although the Polyscience people work in the same building, there is really no inter-company contact. Additionally, I deal with very few people on a daily basis. There’s Michael, my direct supervisor and the editor of the Journal of Chromatographic Science (technically, the Journal of Analytical Toxicology editor is also my supervisor, but she’s on maternity leave and also not very nice); he has the office next to mine. I’m friendly with the photo editor and the head of graphics, but we don’t necessarily stop into each other’s offices to visit. Aside from random encounters with people I may or may not know on my way to the restroom or drinking fountain, that about covers it. So it’s basically the complete opposite of my last job, which is sometimes nice and sometimes depressing. After all, I have NO friends here aside from AK.
The building is long, flat, unimpressive, and brick on the outside, and very industrial on the inside. Grey walls, doors, and carpet. The publishing brother is a photography enthusiast, so there are a number of prints on the wall that somehow don’t even make a dent in the unending greyness. It’s a bit dismal, unfortunately.
Despite the lack of social contact, it is, I must admit, a pretty sweet gig for me. I have my own office. Admittedly, it’s just as dismal as the rest of the building, but I have brightened it up with a poster of the Periodic Table and some really old photos that I found in one of the endless, ancient filing cabinets. I have my own computer, an iMac with barely a year on it, the screen of which cannot be seen by anyone but myself. (Also, Michael has assured me that there is no way anyone’s checking up on our computer-y activities, and if they were, he would have disabled any spyware long ago while he was the Editorial Assistant.) No one can sneak up on me and ask why I’m checking my email, playing a stupid game, reading webcomics, or catching up on neil’s journal instead of working. (Side note: Stephen Fry has a blog now! Awesome!) This also introduces an element of self-discipline into my time, which I suppose is nice: I should always be trying to better myself instead of reading webcomics, right? Riiiiiiiight. Plus, the chain of command is very nice. Above me, there’s Michael, and then the brother who owns this half of the company, and that’s it. And the bro is not around very much; nor does he pay attention to much when he is around. Michael is cool, and has a fairly rebellious nature, so instead of eating lunch in the dismal lunchroom, we go to Starbucks with our sandwiches and shoot the breeze for usually longer than our lunch hour. Sometimes the photo editor comes along, which is cool, and usually stretches lunches even longer.
My job entails:
(1) Formatting manuscripts that have been submitted to the journals. We have a website where scientists can just create an account and submit their paper. When they’ve gone through the approval and peer review stages, it’s my job to get the paper and put it into the proper format for the journal. This includes removing any glaring errors and making sure it won’t kill Quark when it’s uploaded.
(2) Editing manuscripts that have been formatted. Yes, I actually have to read these things and ensure that they make sense. This is harder even than you might think, because in addition to being densely scientific, they are often written by someone whose first language is not English. We have papers submitted from all over the world, most often China and Eastern Europe. In fact, I’m entering corrections on a paper from Poland right now. Here is a typical sentence before I edited it: “Procedure of urine samples preparation for calibration curve was the same like procedures in following point.” Even when we get papers from the US, I often have to remind myself that all of these authors have multiple PhDs; just because they don’t know grammar doesn’t make them morons.
(3) Entering corrections on papers that have been edited. Every paper is edited by me and then Michael, just to make sure we’ve caught the biggest mistakes. Then I go through and read both of our chicken-scratch proofreaders’ marks and make all of the changes.
(4) Checking galley proofs. Michael is the one who does the final formatting in Quark; when he’s done, I look over the finished product and highlight any changes that still need to be made, then I send them to the author.
(5) Random correspondence. Reprint orders, copyright permissions, “when will my paper be published” questions are all my domain. So are sending out comp copies of the journals to authors who have been published that month.
(6) Writing A-pages, which means taking press releases that are relevant to our journals (most of the press releases we receive are emphatically NOT relevant) and removing all of the PR language so that we can publish the information. For example, if the press release says, “Waters, the internationally renowned producer of your favorite GC equipment, announces the release of an exciting new chromatography column which you cannot do without because it will reduce analysis time by an amazing six hours”, I make it say, “Waters announces the release of a new chromatography column which will reduce analysis time by six hours.”
(7) That’s about it, aside from a few other random things I can’t think of right now.
I am definitely picking up some of this stuff, to the point where they took some stuff to be analyzed in a lab on Mythbusters and I said, “Hey, they’re using a mass spectrometer!” In fact, the Journal of Analytical Toxicology has been on CSI; it was sitting on the table of a lab at some point. And no, it’s not the most exciting stuff to read, and sometimes I think my brain is turning into ooze. BUT at least my brain is turning into ooze because I’m using it, whereas the opposite was true on ships: then, I thought I was getting stupider.
In any case, this is a stepping stone towards book publishing, which is where I’d rather be. That is, unless I publish a book myself, become famous, and quit to write full-time. Ahhh, someday.