It’s early days yet. I know that. And if I didn’t know it, I’d certainly have to suspect it, because everybody around here keeps telling me that. “Just wait,” they say knowingly. “You’ll be busy soon enough. Then you’ll wish you had less to do.”
Very inspiring. These are the people I work with. My new colleagues. The people who are going to teach me all the basics about my chosen profession. And every single one of them has this barely-disguised malicious glee in their voices whenever they give me what I charitably call “advice.”
God, it’s not like I have nothing to do. I think what they mean is, “Pretty soon, you’ll be so swamped or worn down or apathetic that you won’t go asking questions, pointing out inconsistencies, or appearing to have something of a pleasant day.”
But seriously, there something not right here. Yeah, some people are seriously overworked. Take the scant junior-level staff. We young and wide-eyed few seem to be cranking on stuff much of the day. Karen may be in there sighing and sipping tea, but she’s getting stuff done almost every minute she’s here. And the couple of people working production never seem all that idle. They’re quietly working on repetitive-stress injuries and burning their retinas with impressions of their Mac screens.
But the editors? Half the freaking day on the phone! And not just to agents and authors, as they would have you believe. Not unless they’re throwing a lot of business toward people on their alma maters’ alumni committees. Or the to their significant others. Or to their doctors, friends, or credit card companies. Yeah, I realize I’m new to publishing, but I’m not new to this world.