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Index Live-Tweet Debrief

As you may have noticed, two weeks ago, on May 6, I started live-tweeting my indexing process, as I indexed the trade book Almost Human: The Story of Julius, the Chimpanzee Caught between Two Worlds. Those tweets are now compiled, with some additional commentary, which you can find here. I also want to take a moment to reflect on the experience.

First of all, I am glad that I did it. I have had the idea for at least a few months, wondering what live-tweeting an index would be like. Now I know, and it feels good to put the idea in action and see it to its conclusion. 

I am also very thankful for everyone who took the time to follow along, and to comment, ask questions, retweet, and like specific tweets. It was encouraging to know that I was not tweeting into a void. The indexing community on Twitter is supportive and positive, so I am glad to have you all with me. I hope the experience was interesting for you as well. 

As for my goal of raising the profile of indexing, even if just in a small way, and of reaching authors, editors, and publishers—I don’t really know how that went. As I learned, Twitter provides limited data. I was able to see how many impressions each tweet received, and of total impressions over the course of a day, but an impression simply means, if I understand it correctly, that someone saw the tweet. It could have been someone scrolling through their Twitter feed without really reading the tweet, or it could have been someone who was actually interested and following along. So while the live-tweets apparently got several thousand impressions over the course of the week, I don’t know how engaged those impressions where. Also, unless someone took the time to comment, retweet, or like, I don’t know who those impressions are from. So, maybe I met my goal? I don’t really know. All I can really go on is the feedback I receive from people who noticed and took the time to say something.

As for the indexing itself, I would make a couple of changes if I did this again. I found that I had less to tweet about as the index progressed, so I would put more effort into pre-planning some topics and making sure tweets were spaced out. I would leave room for spontaneous tweets as well, of course, but I think having a rough plan or outline ahead of time would have been helpful. I would also try to ensure that I was only working on that one project, so that I could finish the index in 3-4 days. I think having the indexing spread over seven days, due to a second project I also needed to finished, resulted in some live-tweeting fatigue. It is too bad how the scheduling worked, though that is also an insight into how I work, with overlapping projects when deadlines demand. 

I am not sure if I will do this again. As I mentioned above, I think it is a fun idea, but it is hard to tell how effective it is for reaching people. To switch things up, I wonder how it would be to live-tweet with someone else, so that there is more of a conversation throughout. That might be interesting to try. At the very least, I am glad that I tried something new and pushed myself out of my comfort zone. And thank you again to everyone who followed along.

If you are interested in reading the book, Almost Human, by Alfred Fidjestøl, it is forthcoming later this year by Greystone Books. You can learn more about it here. Many thanks again to Greystone for giving their permission for this live-tweet. They are a fantastic publisher and a pleasure to work with. 

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External Consistency in Indexes

Last week I wrote about internal consistency in an index, and how internal consistency can help make for a smoother user experience. But external consistency is also important, for the same reasons. The index should align with the text. 

Most obvious, of course, is alignment of content. The index should strive to neither misrepresent nor misinterpret the text, or in more extreme cases, neither ignore indexable content nor make up content. But that is not my main focus today. I am more concerned about formatting, term selection, and structure.

Spelling

One area for consistency is spelling. It is simple, yet for me, at least, easy to overlook, given how much I take certain spelling conventions for granted. As a Canadian, I usually run into this issue with American spelling in indexes for books published by American publishers and for Canadian books intended for an American audience. If I do not have a style sheet for the book and am not sure which is used, I will run a quick search for certain words which are commonly spelled differently. Spelling can be subtle, but I think alignment is still important to give the book a unified feel. At the very least, this saves the proofreader some work, if they are alert to this issue.

Locator Ranges

Locator ranges are another area for consistency. Some publishers have a preferred way to abbreviate (or not), while for other publishers it seems to vary from book to book. If you are not sure, check the bibliography or keep an eye out for ranges as you index.

Term Selection

Try to follow the text’s lead for names and terms. This can be tricky if the text itself is not consistent, but try to determine what is used most often and what the audience will be most familiar with. Cross references and double posts can also be used to add alternative entry points. We cannot assume that the reader has already read the book, but mirroring the terminology can make the index a bit easier to use for someone who has.

Structure

Following the book’s structure is not always good advice as the book may not have a clear structure or it may not be easy to mirror. So use your judgment and choose a structure that works best for the index. If the book’s structure is amenable, however, then be consistent in importing that structure. This will help the reader who has already read the book, and might help orient the reader who hasn’t. 

When considering external consistency, we are recognizing that the index is part of a larger whole. While the index has its own conventions, it also needs to take cues from the text that the index is pointing towards. The reader should be able to recognize that the index and the text belong together.

What are your thoughts on external consistency? Are there any areas that I missed?

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Should Freelance Work Come with Trigger Warnings?

Photo by Skitterphoto from Pexels

I laughed when I first came up with the title for this blog post. It was a laugh at how absurd the title sounded, and also a laugh of recognition. Suddenly this issue was starting to crystallize into words.

Work seems so innocuous, being something we do everyday. How can indexing or proofreading hurt me? Yet I have worked on the occasional project that provoked painful memories or fears, and which in hindsight I should have declined.

Taking a step back from the term “trigger warning,” there is also work which is simply emotionally difficult to process. It may not trigger a sharp or personal response, but it can still be emotionally draining. I remember the indexers for the Canadian Truth and Reconciliation Commission report, about residential schools, commenting on the emotional weight of their work.

I am not quite sure what to say about this subject. It is deeply personal; how I react to a text will likely be different from how someone else reacts. I am also no expert on mental health. Still, I think it is a subject that is at least worth mentioning. Freelancers are still people, after all, underneath our professionalism.

I know I am certainly tempted at times to take on projects with difficult content. Sometimes it is for the income, while sometimes I tell myself that as a professional I should be able to handle anything. In reality, though, the professional course of action would be to recognize my own limitations and try to screen projects accordingly. Catching an emotional curveball is not worth the few hundred dollars that may accompany it or the effects that that turmoil might have on the rest of my schedule and life.

At times it may not be the book itself which is so problematic, but rather something else happening in my life which is causing me to be less emotionally resilient at that particular time. And then there are the projects that seem innocuous, and which turn out to be very different, in a bad way, from what I anticipated.

I find that I am getting better at handling these types of difficult projects. The first line of defense, as I mentioned, is to try and screen projects and turn down ones that seems to be too much or not right for me at this time. It is important to recognize here that just because a book may be triggering or emotionally heavy does not mean that it is necessarily a bad book. It may be a very important book about a difficult subject, like the Truth and Reconciliation report. So I try not to blame the project itself, but simply recognize that not every project is a good fit. Also, knowing that what I find difficult may be fine for someone else can provide permission for passing a project along. 

If I do accept a difficult project, either by accident or because I think I can handle it, there are a few ways to make the work easier. I try to cut myself some slack by breaking the work into smaller chunks, while also taking more breaks to rest and process what I am reading. Acknowledging my emotions, instead of burying them under a professional veneer, can help with setting the emotions aside so I can focus. Keeping the ultimate purpose of the book in mind, if I think the book has something valuable to offer, can also help me stay focused, as I do want to contribute to the greater good. It can also help to remember that this is just one project and will soon be over—I will outlive the work. 

Be kind to yourself. Be honest about what is doable and what is too much. Get help or support if you need it. Keep the project in perspective. If you find yourself with an emotionally difficult project, you can get through it.

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Internal Consistency in Indexes

Consistency is key in the quest to provide a smooth user experience. How the index works should be largely invisible to the reader. What we do not want is the reader to find errors or inconsistencies which cause them to question whether their interpretation of the index is correct or whether they are finding everything that should be available. 

In this post, I am going to write about internal consistency, which is making sure that the index is internally consistent with itself. Imposing consistency begins at the start of the indexing process, with selecting which formatting conventions to use and making initial decisions about what kinds of entries to capture. It then continues to be applied during the editing phase, when decisions are reaffirmed and double checked. 

Wording

Consistent wording is a subtle way to add consistency. This is part of gently shaping the reader’s expectations around preferred terms and how to recognize similar information.

If two or more synonymous terms are available, pick one as a preferred term and use it consistently, with a cross-reference if necessary. For a recent book I indexed on the annual encampments of the American Canoe Association, I choose to consistently use the word “meet” for each individual encampment, as in Jessup’s Neck meet and Grindstone Island meets. I could have chosen the terms “camp” or “encampment” instead, which were also used in the text, but I thought meet gave a better sense of community (an important theme in the book), it was short, and by using the same term I hoped to indicate to readers that these dozen or more entries throughout the index were all the same kind of thing. If I had also used the term camp, as in Jessup’s Neck camp, I was concerned that some readers might have questioned how a camp was different from a meet. 

Consistent wording can also be used in subheadings to indicate similar content. Using the same subheading across several entries, as such “accommodation” in a guidebook, indicates to the reader that the same kind of information is provided for all of the locations discussed. Within a single entry, similar wording can gather subheadings so that the reader can easily see all of the related information. For example,

Los Angeles: population growth; population projection

Glosses

A variation on consistent wording is being consistent with glosses. An index can have glosses for different types of entries. Within each type, though, try to provide the same information in the same order. Otherwise, I think inconsistency is visually disruptive and can cause the reader to spend too much time rereading entries to make sure it says what they think it says. For example, the following is not a good idea. Pick a style and stick to it.

Henry VIII (king of England)

James II of England

Louis VI (French king)

Louis XIV (king of France)

Victoria, Queen

Locators

Another basic place to impose consistency is with locators. Are ranges consistently identical, if used at all? Are typographical elements, such as bold or italics, used consistently to indicate figures, tables, or other illustrations?

Treatment of Topics

The last area I will discuss is the treatment of main headings and topics. Consistency here can happen in a couple of different ways. The first is to make sure that all examples of a certain type of information is picked up. To give a simple example, if I decide to index dog breeds, then I should make sure to pick up all breeds mentioned, so that the reader is not wondering, “I see the entry for Dalmatians, but what about Labradors? I am certain I saw Labradors mentioned in the book.”

Another way to be consistent is to treat similar topics similarly. If I decide that some supermain headings should have subheadings to indicate their importance and to break down a longer range, then ideally all supermain headings should have subheadings, even if some ranges are shorter. This is not always possible, if a topic is important but only discussed on 2-3 pages. But I think that consistent treatment is important, when possible, to help the reader identify similar topics and relative importance. 

These are the main areas for internal consistency that I think about when indexing. This can appear to be nit-picky, but I do think that it is the small details that can elevate an index and make for an easier user experience, without the user necessarily knowing why it is a nicer experience. When you index, what areas of internal consistency do you pay attention to? Feel free to reply and let me know. I am curious to know what other areas we should pay attention to.

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Pascha with Papadiamantis

Photo by Pavlos Nirvanas

Christ is Risen! 

It is now a week after Pascha, or Easter according to the Julian calendar which most of the Orthodox Churches follow. It is two weeks after Easter for those who celebrate according to the Gregorian calendar.

It seems late to post a reflection on Pascha. The feast has come and gone, though in the Orthodox tradition, at least, we will continue to sing Christ is Risen until Ascension, forty days later. Today is Thomas Sunday, when the Church commemorates the Apostle Thomas coming to belief, after having a chance to see for himself Jesus Christ resurrected. It seems fitting so soon after the Feast of Feasts that we, with our short attention spans and worries, are reminded again of the resurrection and of the often intertwined realities of faith and doubt.

I initially drafted this post on Pascha afternoon, before my wife, Elim, and I headed out to a party at Elim’s godmother’s house. I have been meaning to revise and post all week, but it has been busy, so here I am, a week later. Perhaps that is fitting too, given the reflections here.

In the couple of weeks leading up to Pascha, I read the book Greece’s Dostoevsky: The Theological Vision of Alexandros Papadiamandis (now retitled Lessons from a Greek Island), by Anestis Keselopoulos (Protecting Veil, 2011). Writing in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Papadiamantis was a popular Greek journalist and fiction writer, as well as a pious Orthodox Christian who was spiritually formed on the island of Skiathos, where he grew up. As an adult living in Athens, many of his stories drew upon his childhood on Skiathos, and of the spiritual life of the farmers, fisherfolk, sheep herders, and towns people. Despite writing about such a different time and place, I was pleasantly surprised how familiar the liturgical life is that Papadiamantis describes. The order of services and the hymns have not changed much in over a hundred years. 

I am also struck, having also read three of his paschal short stories, by the all-too-human situations that Papadiamantis describes. In “A Village Easter” (which you can read here), the priest, Father Kyriakos, is beset by financial worries and literally runs out of the country chapel mid-liturgy to confront his fellow priest at the church in town because he believes that his fellow priest is taking more than his fair share of the offering. Besides the specific problem of a congregation suddenly bereft of a priest and the Easter liturgy, the story also underlines the problem of clergy not being adequately paid for their work. 

In “Easter Chanter,” the chanter who has promised to come finally arrives near the end of the service. His tardiness is largely his own fault because he did not leave home when he should have. The priest is frustrated and tempted to cancel the liturgy altogether, and in the end has to improvise with his illiterate and unchurched parishioners. The story then ends with a man sneaking meat from the lamb while it is roasting, and being slyly punished in retaliation by the man in charge of the roast who should have been paying more attention.

In the most tragic story, “Without a Wedding Crown,” the disgraced Christina, trapped for years in a manipulative relationship with a man who repeatedly promises marriage and never follows through, longs to attend the Holy Week and Paschal services but is too ashamed to show her face to the other, more respectable women. Instead, Christina finally leaves home to attend paschal vespers, which is a chaotic service full of servants and nannies enjoying their afternoon off. There is also an unflattering description of the churchwarden, who in trying to shush crying babies causes an even greater disturbance. 

Yet despite these conflicts and anxieties, the joy of the resurrection does poke through. Father Kyriakos comes to his senses and returns to the chapel to finish celebrating the liturgy. He is also later reconciled with his fellow priest, and realizes that his fears about the offering was just a misunderstanding. The tardy chanter finally take his place in the chapel and helps the priest and the congregation finish the liturgy. The man punished for sneaking meat still receives a few bites of the festal meal, saved for him by a couple of the older women. Christina is perhaps the only person attending paschal vespers who understands the significance of the feast, despite her shame and oppression. 

What I like about these stories is their honesty. They acknowledge both the joy of Christ risen and the baggage that we so often bring with us to celebrate these feasts. It seems like this side of the despoiled grave celebration will always be mixed with struggle. Every year there are dramas, large or small, that I either bring with me or can see playing out in the people around me. Part of being a Christian, I think, is to learn that balance between appropriately acknowledging and mourning these ruptures, while still resting in the spiritual joy and peace that underlies all. Papadiamantis does an excellent job finding and acknowledging this balance. His stories are not about an idealized Christian life, but instead allow spiritual truths to be revealed in the midst of our frailties, doubt, and obliviousness.

Christ is Risen! A blessed paschal season to all, as we muddle our way through. 

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Using Triage to Shorten an Index

Cutting an index to fit a tight space limitation is never fun. At least, I do not enjoy it.

By cutting, I mean shortening the index beyond what I think the index should be. Editing may lengthen or shorten the index, depending on what needs to be done to make the index its best self, while cutting is simply about removing to fit an external standard. 

Yet, I think cutting an index can still be done well. The final index may not be ideal, but it can still be elegant and appear as a coherent whole. To do this, I have developed a form of triage to guide how I cut. 

The word triage comes from the medical world, and refers to making treatment decisions in situations of insufficient time or resources. In a way, triage is heartbreaking because it means that not everyone will receive treatment or treatment in a timely manner, yet it is effective because it forces the medical personnel to start with the patients for whom they can make the biggest impact.

For an index, my goal is to deliver the best index I can by using the most judicious cuts. Which cuts shorten the most while impacting the quality of the index the least? To do this, here are five strategies and considerations I keep in mind.

1) Identify What Needs to be Kept

This step seems counterintuitive because the goal of cutting, after all, is to remove. Yet I still think it is important that the core entries remain largely intact. I want the reader to still get a broad overview of the book from the index. This means identifying the metatopic entries and supermain headings, which cover the main points of the book. Once I have identified these, I may combine or shorten a few subheadings here and there, but mostly I cut around them.

2) Remove Subheadings

I do not like long strings of undifferentiated locators or mixing subheadings with unruly locators, but I will make exceptions to cut an index as subheadings do take up space. My usual bar for when to add subheadings is six or more locators, but if I need to cut I will raise the bar to say ten locators. I will also remove subheadings for less important entries, as a tradeoff for keeping subheadings for my core entries.

3) Eliminate Multiple Entry Points

One of the hallmarks of a good index is that a reader can find the same information in two or more ways. When I cut, I see multiple entry points as a luxury. My goal is to still have at least one entry point for each piece of information, but I will look for ways to cut out repetition. The main way I do this is to remove double-posts. If information is presented as both a main heading and a subheading, I may choose one or the other. I may also use more cross-references to compensate, if it seems like the cross-reference will take up less space.

4) Raise the Bar for Passing Mentions

Another strategy I use is to raise the bar for what I consider to be passing mentions. I actually start thinking about this before I edit the index. If I create an entry that I think I might be willing to cut, I label it so that it is easy to later find. You may ask, why not just cut if the entry is borderline? I would say that there are degrees of passing mentions, and what may be irrelevant to one person is valuable to another. So I tend to err on being inclusive, while recognizing that I may need to change my standard in order to cut.

5) Be Consistent

Regardless of which strategies I employ, I try to be consistent across the index. If I am cutting an entry from a certain type or level of entry, for example, I try to do the same for all entries of that type or level. I do not want the cuts to appear random or for a reader to say, Why is this entry included but not that? I know that a cut index is full of holes, but at least by being consistent I hope to mask the damage and make it appear that the index was still deliberately and thoughtfully made.

Ultimately, cutting an index is about tradeoffs. What gets to stay and what needs to go? These are not always easy decisions, especially if the cuts occur after careful editing. Still, with some planning, I think a decent index can still emerge. The index may not be great, but it can at least still be okay and still serve the reader as best it can.

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The Power to Reveal and Conceal in an Index

Indexers hold great power, more than I think we often realize. Since the index we write will serve as a major entry point into the text for readers, we have a lot of influence over what readers find and how.

I first came to this realization a few years ago through my work indexing books on Indigenous topics. In Canada, where I live, these topics can be quite emotionally and politically charged, since as a nation we are still coming to terms with the legacy of colonialism. When working on such material, I am conscious that these are not my stories to tell. I do not fully understand these issues from the point of view of the Indigenous communities and individuals. Yet as the indexer, I have to somehow decide how best to present the information. 

One common claim by indexers is that the index needs to reflect the text, which is another way to say that the index needs to be objective. I agree that the index should be as objective as possible. Yet indexers also acknowledge that no two indexers will ever create the same index. The index is a subjective document, filtered through the indexer’s understanding of the text and preferred indexing practices. To be an ethical indexer, I think we need to consider and be aware of the different ways in which we can shape the index, particularly in how we can reveal or conceal information.

So, what are some ways in which this can happen?

The simplest way this happens is from me reading the text and making a decision about what I read. Is this detail or discussion important enough to be included in the index? Do I think there might be a reader who will want to find this information? To be objective, I have to be careful not to let personal bias or ignorance colour my decisions.

Next, let’s consider when I have chosen to index a certain discussion in the text. I can choose to highlight that discussion in a number of ways. I could use subheadings, for example, to both provide more information to the reader about the discussion, as well as to make the entry physically larger than surrounding entries, making the entry stand out. If there are a number of possible terms for the discussion, I can choose one that readers are likely to know and use and provide cross-references from the other terms. If the discussion is found in a subheading, I have try to have that subheading sort to the top of the entry to be more visible.

Conversely, I can choose not to use subheadings, even if there are enough locators to warrant them. I could also use a less common term as the main heading, and not use cross-references or double-posts to provide multiple entry points. I could also bury a subheading in the middle or at the bottom of an entry, or use vague wording to obscure the meaning. In all these cases, a reader can still find the discussion in the index, but the discussion is much less noticeable. Of course, I could also choose to not create an entry, thereby omitting the discussion.

In a best case scenario, when there is no line or page limit for the index, we can make sure that most, if not all, of the information in the text is clearly present in the index. But I think it is important to recognize that if there is not enough space, then the indexer may be forced to cut or obscure information out of necessity to make the index fit. This is not ideal, and while more can be said, I do have a triage process in order to identify what is most important to keep in the index and what can be cut or reduced. 

To give an example of how our decisions can affect the index, a few years ago I indexed the memoir of an Indigenous politician who described, alongside his many accomplishments, his struggles with alcoholism, depression, infidelities, and being sexually assaulted in residential school. It was quite a candid account, and I created headings and subheadings for these difficult topics, where I thought appropriate, in order to reflect the text. The publisher disagreed, and either removed the subheadings or folded these into a single subheading called “personal problems.”

The first reason the publisher gave was space, which, while I did not like it, I could at least accept. The second reason, though, was that the publisher did not want to make the author look bad. I disagreed, thinking that these changes whitewashed the issues and if the author was so candid, why not the index? It seemed that the priorities of the publisher were obscuring entry points into the text, which drove home for me this idea of revelation and concealment in an index. 

In the end, the index was published as the publisher wanted. In hindsight, maybe they were right, though I am thinking more about other victims who might have found the entries to be triggering than I am thinking about the author’s reputation. My point here is not to say that I was right and the publisher wrong, because I think handling sensitive information in an index is complicated and I am willing to accept that I was not entirely right. I am sharing this story instead to show how easily indexing decisions can affect how information is transmitted in an index. Our choices as indexers (and editors of indexes) do have consequences. While we cannot always write the index we want, due to external factors, we can still be mindful about the choices we make, and choose to reveal instead of hide.

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Easter Break

A blessed Easter to all of you celebrating this Sunday, or if you are simply enjoying the long weekend.

And a blessed Holy Week and Pascha if you, like myself, will be celebrating next Sunday according to the Julian calendar.

Given the festivities, I have decided to not blog on these next two Mondays. I will still post about indexing on Wednesdays, as those posts are already written, and I will look forward to blogging again in a few weeks.

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Index Entries, Reconsidered

First, a definition. An entry, sometimes also called an entry array, is a single unit comprised of the main heading and everything that goes with it, which can include subheadings, locators, and cross-references. It is complete unto itself.

Yet though complete unto itself, a single entry is not an index. An index, rather, is formed by multiple entries—often hundreds or even thousands of entries—placed together. It is this unity out of many that allows an index to point readers towards so many different pieces of information in the text.

To succeed in its function, an entry needs to be clearly written. The user of the index should understand exactly what they can expect to find if they go to where the entry points. Subheadings and cross-references are tools that can be used to achieve this clarity. 

The entry also needs to contain the sum total of everything the reader needs to know about that specific subject. There is no ideal length for an entry, so long as the entry contains everything it needs. Each entry will be unique. 

Having said that, since an index consists of entries in aggregate, there should be consistency in how entries are written and formatted. Subheadings should be written in a similar style and used for similar reasons, for example. Exceptions can exist, so that each entry can be the best that it can be, but overall there should be a sense of unity to the index, which stems from the entries working together.

It is also important to recognize that not all entries are equal. Metatopic and supermain heading entries, for example, will likely be expansive, reflecting the role of those topics in the text. Regular main headings and other lesser details will likely have simpler entries. If index length is an issue, some entries may have to be prioritized over others, by way of elimination or brevity.

An entry is quite elemental and basic to the index; it hardly seems worth talking about. Yet it is also the building block out of which the index is constructed. It is possible to write a poorly written entry, which obscures and confuses rather than illumines, which in turn will lead to a mediocre index. So I think it is worth asking, what makes a good entry? Get the basics right, and the rest of the index will follow.

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Mastery Before Speed

Photo by CHU TAI on Unsplash

I have been reminding myself recently to not get frustrated over my slow progress writing fiction. 

It has been a dream of mine since I was a kid to be a writer. In grade four I managed to turn a two-page story assignment into an epic that was at least ten pages long. I am not sure now if it was ever finished, as I remember hiding on the top floor of our house the morning it was due in a frantic last-minute attempt to finish.

Yet I have to remind myself that I still have a lot to learn about how to tell a good story, and that I do have a day job, after all. I am not going to publish a book overnight. 

And yet, I get frustrated.

If I can lean into the frustration, though, it is a good opportunity to focus on mastery. 

The need for mastery was first drilled into me my first summer tree planting. Tree planters are paid by the tree, and since prices averaged ten or eleven cents, it was in our best interest to plant fast. Yet speed without proper technique (by which my foreman meant planting a tree in a single fluid motion before striding three steps to plant the next tree) and the ability to read the ground (to find the best spot to plant the tree in) isn’t really speed. Sure, you’d be faster than someone who was slow and had poor technique, but the best combination was technique first and then speed. 

I see this too with indexing, both in my own career and in some of the new indexers I talk to. Since freelancing is (usually) for employment and income—and for some people, they do not have a backup source of income—speed is often seen as key to success. But attempting to go fast without mastering the basics is usually going to lead to greater stress and more time wasted trying to fix errors made in haste. I do believe that newer indexers are capable to writing great indexes—it is just going to take a little longer, most likely, and that is okay. Taking the time is part of making a new skill second nature. 

Bringing this back to writing, part of my frustration is that I can see that I have a much higher mastery of indexing relative to writing fiction. This makes sense, because I have spent most of the last nine years focused on indexing. I realize that I need to put the same time and focus into writing as well. And yet I wish I could just transfer mastery from one domain to another and bypass the work. Especially as making time for writing is, well, another issue. 

Still, mastery before speed.

I have to keep reminding myself of this order. I can see how it got me through tree planting and then indexing. Now, I need to put in my time with writing, to accept this time of learning the craft and becoming grounded in the basics. Speed will come soon enough.