
Publishing Newbie
Posted on April 28, 2009 in Uncategorized
The universal dread for aspiring publishing stars is spending too long working for free on countless work experience placements or internships. Those publishing hopefuls amongst the audience at the SYP’s fascinating Canon Tales at the LBF this month will recall, with mild horror, Rebecca Lee’s collage of company names that had milked her skills for free; though her hard work did eventually pay off, and she now has a job at Scholastic Children’s Books.
Work experience and internships are one of the few routes into the industry, and editorial meetings are a great opportunity for publishing ‘wannabies’ or assistants in their first job to make an impression on senior figures in the company. Meetings are the junction of the proposal conveyor belt where ideas are either sucked up the ‘Offer An Advance’ chute (whoosh!) or spat out into the Raggy Dolls-style REJECT bin. As proposals are tossed around, members of the editorial board debate their merits – by adding your voice, you’ll stand out from the steady stream of silent interns of whom, it’s easy to assume, are not even listening. Every opinion around the table is respectfully listened to, so it’s worth speaking up. I was noticed, and hired, and now it’s my job to take the minutes.
Minute-taking is tricky especially if, like me, the only thing you know about short-hand is that, disappointingly, it’s not short-bread. People talk quickly. Unbelievably, they don’t pause after each word to let you write it down. Luckily, being part of the txt generation endows us with unimagined abbreviation skills, though even these can become indecipherable back at your desk; whilst typing up last week’s meeting’s notes I came across the following terrifyingly obscure sentence: ‘EH: huge am. mat. Make open to CW – as long as gel’. (Answers on a postcard before next Tuesday’s meeting, please.)
Publishing jargon: working off my predecessor’s notes was nothing short of translation. By the first week, I had gathered that ‘SH will chase MP’ didn’t refer to a scheduled hot-pursuit by our trade manager of a member of parliament, nor that ‘3k for first run’ would involve an office-bonding race round Regent’s Park. I hazarded a guess at Chopped Demy (a finely quartered herb?), but as to why the sales director is constant contact with the exotic-sounding ‘Lasgo’, I’m still none the wiser.
The Curse of Youth: I’m probably 10 years younger then most of the Board. This can make identifying with cultural references that precede your date of existence tricky. Try to look pensive when someone mentions an autobiography of a BBC TV actress who died before your parents had fumbled their way to your conception, cry with enthusiasm over a 70s punk band who are re-forming for Wembley this year, and never remind them that you were just about up to gurgling the lyrics to ‘Old MacDonald’s Farm’ in 1989. No one likes a whippersnapper.
Ah, yes – nodding along is crucial to successful meeting participation. Names will crop up of literary agents, sales reps, authors, ghost-writers that will be oh-so-familiar to everyone else but you. Don’t panic if, at the mention of old associate ‘Rod’ (who?!), the room explodes with laughter, people wipe tears from their eyes and stare out the window wistfully, murmuring ‘Rod’ to themselves… Just nod, smile and scribble: Rod = popular.
Don’t be intimidated by rituals and language that you don’t understand at first. Publishing houses are often small and not used to a high staff turn-over (‘once you’re in, you stay in’), so if something hasn’t been explained to you, just ask questions about anything you don’t understand, whether you’re a first-time assistant or an intern. Stand out from the crowd by speaking up in editorial meetings, and you’re on your way to being recommended for a much-needed promotion, or that elusive first job. Most importantly, don’t get embarrassed by your mistakes – in one meeting not long ago a senior editor let loose a great guffaw and told me he didn’t think it was the Daily Meal who was asking for serial. (Sigh) – its all a learning curve.