Article
April 16, 2024
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by Stephen

But Am I Really Qualified to Index That?

One of the challenges of being a freelance indexer is knowing where to draw the line on projects that are a good fit. Do you stick to subjects that you are comfortable with and for which you have prior professional or academic expertise? Or does indexing know-how mean that you can index anything?

I think it is a bit of both.

I consider myself a generalist, with some caveats. I am comfortable with most trade books, written for a general audience, since I consider myself part of that readership. I am comfortable with most scholarly books within the humanities and social sciences, though I have also learned that I have limits. While I can index philosophy, for example, I often struggle to wrap my mind around such abstract concepts. I index better and faster if I stick to subjects like history or political science that are typically more concrete. Then there are subjects like law, medicine, and engineering, which I have no background in and tend to avoid.

Except, when it depends. 

I recently indexed a law book for the first time and it turned out okay. (At least I think so and the author is pleased.)

It all started when the production manager got in touch. Carra Simpson, a phenomenal independent project manager who remembered me from a previous job, asked if I would be interested in indexing Coppock on Tennessee Adoption Law, 8th Edition, by Dawn Coppock, (Good Law, 2024). I initially resisted. I explained that I do not have a law background, that I am not confident that I will recognize important concepts, nor do I know what legal professionals will be searching for in an index. Carra patiently countered my objections, sent me the proofs for the 7th edition so I would have a better idea of what to expect, and offered to put me in touch with Dawn, the author. 

As it turned out, Dawn had a smaller budget, though still reasonable, and was comfortable with a simpler index, though at 700 indexable pages, there was still a lot to pick up. I focused on the main concepts and discussions, taking cues from the book’s structures and headings, which was clearly organized. I also tried to not get bogged down in minor details, though I still read the whole book. Creating a solid structure for the index proved important, one that was easy to navigate and which didn’t bury entries, as there was a lot of information to include (about 115 pages alone covering grounds for termination of parental rights, for example). We also decided to not pick up individual cases, which saved a lot of time. I also had an informative chat with Dawn over Zoom, which helped me better understand some of the terminology and how readers would search. Lastly, I appreciated that Dawn had written the book to be accessible to everyone involved, from judges and lawyers to adoptive and birth parents, which meant I felt like I could understand it too.

I also leaned heavily into my indexing expertise. Even when I don’t fully understand the subject matter, I’ve learned how to read as an indexer and I know what a good index looks like. 

This contrasts with my very first freelance index, for The Anthology of Social Studies: Issues and Strategies for Elementary Teachers, Updated Edition, edited by Roland Case and Penny Clark (Pacific Educational Press, 2013). The production editor suggested that I update the original index, which I foolishly agreed to do. What I discovered were chapters that had been added, removed, and rearranged, which made deconstructing and updating the index an extremely painstaking and mind-bending process. I should have insisted on rewriting the index from scratch. Except, I don’t have a background in education either. I think I would be fine now with indexing the book, but at that time, with neither subject-matter expertise nor enough indexing expertise, I was sinking fast. As painful as it was to update the original index, at least the original index showed me what the index should be like and helped pull me through.

Reflecting on these two experiences, my point isn’t to brag about how far my indexing skills have come. Rather, I want to encourage you to focus on building your own indexing skills. Indexing expertise counts for a lot when facing a difficult project or unfamiliar subject. It certainly helps to also understand the subject, and if you are out of your depth, I recommend talking to the author and maybe also doing some research to learn the basics. But it is also important to remember that the value we bring as indexers is our knowledge of indexing. It is knowing how to identify indexable material. It is formulating clear and concise headings and subheadings. It is being adept at creating a structure that is easy to navigate and highlights the main points of the book. If you can develop your indexing chops, it becomes way easier to stretch beyond your comfort zone. 

As you practice, whether on practice indexes or freelance projects, I suggest sticking to topics and subjects that are relatively easy. Focus first on building your skills, and then apply those skills to more difficult books. I began indexing when working in-house for Harbour Publishing, a trade publisher. While unplanned, that proved a good starting point because the books were fairly easy to understand and I could focus on crafting the index. Later, when I began indexing scholarly books, I had a small foundation of experience to build upon, which made scholarly books—at least in subjects I was familiar with—easier to tackle.

Ten years ago, I probably would have struggled to index Coppock on Tennessee Adoption Law. Now, I’m still no lawyer, but it turns out I can crack the index.

Article
March 5, 2024
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by Stephen

When to Walk Away

A month ago I wrote about my ideal working relationship with publishers, as a valued member of the team. But not every publisher or client is going to be ideal, and sometimes you need to know when to walk away.

Walking away from a project or client is scary. Especially early in my career, I was loath to pass up an opportunity. I needed the paycheck and would say yes to books that I either had no interest in subject-wise, or were beyond my skill level in either subject matter expertise or indexing know-how. Which isn’t always bad. Sometimes being pushed out of my comfort zone shows me where I need to improve or shows me that I am capable of more than I realize. Though sometimes it means that I need to set better boundaries.

Sometimes you need to walk away from a project because of the client, not the actual work. Or at least be willing to walk away.

I faced this situation with two different clients last year, both academic authors. The experiences caused me to reflect on what it is I need from clients in order to make this working relationship worthwhile. Are all of the terms dictated by the client, or do I have some agency too? Though to be fair to both authors, I found them both (or in the one case, the author’s assistant) pleasant and easy to work with. The problem actually lay with their respective universities.

Often when I am hired by an academic author, payment for the index comes from their university, in the form of funding that the author can tap into. This usually means that I need to register with the university as a vendor, which almost always means paperwork. In these two cases, both universities had requirements that I was unable to fulfill. In one case, the university wanted a tax number that I did not have (as a Canadian citizen and resident, with the university in another country, it was a foreign tax number I ordinarily do not need). In the other case, for a university in yet another country, their requirements seemed more suited to a larger company than my one-person freelance outfit. After initial inquiries, neither university seemed to want to budge.

What do I do? Do I invest time and money trying to meet their requirements, which could potentially take months trying to acquire that which I do not have? Or do I walk away? I don’t really want to walk away, because the issue isn’t with the book or with the author. But if being paid is going to be a drain on my time and resources, the project is no longer so appealing. How much red tape is $1000, or even $2000, worth?

In both cases I decided to be honest with the authors. It also helped that they had started the vendor registration process early, before the proofs were ready for indexing, so there was still time to find another indexer if necessary. I explained why I was unable to meet all of the vendor registration requirements. I asked if the university would be willing to waive the problematic requirements. I politely stated that if the requirements were not waived, then I would regretfully need to withdraw from the project and they would need to find another indexer who would be a better fit.

I felt anxious threatening to pull out of a project I had previously agreed to do. I didn’t know how the author or the university would react. I also felt okay at the prospect of losing the client and project. There was still time for another project to come along to fill that time slot in my schedule and it felt good to protect and value my own time and business.

Thankfully, both universities decided, after all, that they could waive the troublesome requirements. I don’t fully know what happened on their end, but the authors decided to advocate to keep me as their indexer and the university administrators found a way to make it happen. A happy outcome for everyone, at least from my perspective.

These experiences taught me a few lessons:

  • Know my boundaries. As an indexer, I am here to serve my clients, which involves dealing with payment and paperwork. Some paperwork is reasonable. But I also want to enjoy my work, and I only have a finite amount of time. To keep my business sustainable and enjoyable, I need to know and enforce my boundaries, which may mean saying no or goodbye to certain books or clients. I know I can’t serve everyone, so I may as well focus on the books and clients that are the best fit.
  • Always ask. Administrative requirements may not be set in stone. While the answer may not always be what I want to hear, it is worth asking if changes can be made (and letting the client know what I am willing and not willing to do) before making a final decision about a client or project.  
  • Learn to say no. I wish I was better at saying no, and that I was better at it earlier in my career. Turning down projects is tough, especially when offers are scarce. But if you are a newer freelancer, practice saying no, and maybe actually say it sometimes. This circles back to boundaries. Know what kind of work is too far out of your comfort zone. Know what level of red tape you are willing to deal with. It may be difficult in the moment to turn down a project or client, but your future self will thank you. 

Have you ever walked away from a project? What was that experience like? What did you do to make the situation better? Please feel free to reply below in the comments. I am curious to hear your experience.

Article
February 21, 2024
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by Stephen

Indigenous Terms and Names, Indexing

Living in Canada and regularly working with a number of Canadian presses, I’ve had the privilege, since I’ve begun freelancing, to index several books relating to the Indigenous Peoples of Canada. There seems to be a growing trend in Canada to publish books by and about Indigenous Peoples. I’ve also noticed what seems to be a further trend in the books I index, which is the preference for using Indigenous terms and names over their English translations. Often to the point where the reader needs to have or quickly develop a good working knowledge of these terms in order to read the book (or at least to have the glossary bookmarked for easy reference), because once the English translation is provided in the first instance, it is often not provided again.

This observation of mine is purely anecdotal. I don’t have access to the decision-making that lies behind these books, and I can only speak to the books I have personally worked on. However, it has happened enough times that it seems more than coincidence, and I think it is worth highlighting and celebrating.

I most often see Indigenous terms and names used for personal and place names, as well as for significant concepts, objects, and traditional practices. This often happens in books by and about specific Indigenous nations. For example, last year I indexed Tiná7 Cht Ti Temíxw—We Come from This Land: A Walk through the History of the Squamish People, by the Squamish Nation (Page Two, 2023) and Lhù’ààn Mân Keyí Dań Kwánje Nààtsat—Kluane Lake Country People Speak Strong, by the Kluane First Nation (Figure 1 Publishing, 2023). I also sometimes see a lot of Indigenous terms in books written from an Indigenous perspective, when the author wants to discuss Indigenous concepts in an Indigenous manner. The most striking example that I’ve indexed so far is Our Hearts Are as One Fire: An Ojibway-Anishinabe Vision for the Future, by Jerry Fontaine (UBC Press, 2020), which uses terms from the Ojibwaymowin language for all major concepts. My sincere thanks to Jerry Fontaine for answering all of my language-related questions.

As a white settler who does not speak an Indigenous language, needing to quickly become familiar with these terms and names is an additional challenge when indexing. And, I think it is a challenge that is worth the effort. So much of culture, identity, and knowledge is bound up in language. While these are Indigenous terms used in an English context, rather than books written entirely in an Indigenous language, incorporating and using these terms is still an important step towards revitalizing these languages, as well as reminding settlers—or realizing for the first time—that there is a richness already here that is worth attending to.

Let’s jump into a few examples.

Indigenous people can have both an Indigenous and an English name. Both may be given in the book. This was especially true for the book by the Squamish Nation, with people primarily referred to by their Squamish (or Sḵwx̱wú7mesh Sníchim (Squamish Language)) name. The English name was usually given in the first instance to help with identification and sometimes repeated later in the book. For example, Chief August Jack Khatsahlano, a well-known figure in Vancouver history, is most often referred to as X̱ats’alánexw Siy̓ám̓, which is how I indexed him. 

For some Indigenous Peoples, names, or titles, are hereditary, and two or more people in the book may share the same name. I encountered this recently when indexing Indigenous Legalities, Pipeline Viscosities: Colonial Extractivism and Wet’suwet’en Resistance, by Tyler McCreary (University of Alberta Press, 2024). I am thankful for the author’s guidance on differentiating between the types of hereditary names, and for how best to index. The key is to be mindful that I am not familiar with these naming conventions and to consult the author, as well as look for clues in the text, to make sure I properly identify and index everyone.

Place names are also often discussed using their Indigenous names, as part of marking traditional territory. The Kluane First Nation book includes locations such as K’ùà Mân (Kloo Lake) and Lhù’ààn Mân Jälí (Headwaters of the Kluane River). The Squamish Nation book also uses Sḵwx̱wú7mesh Sníchim names for several locations in and around Vancouver., such as Iy̓ál̓mexw (Jericho Beach) and T’aḵ’t’aḵ’muy̓ín̓ tl’a in̓inyáx̱a7n (Black Tusk).

Concepts, objects, and traditional stories and knowledge may also be discussed using Indigenous terms. From the Squamish Nation book, this includes sts’úḵw’i7 (salmon) and the X̱aays (Transformer brothers). For Our Hearts Are as One Fire, the index was in part built around concepts such as i-nah-ko-ni-gay-win (sovereignty) and o-gi-ma-win (governance). (In Our Hearts Are as One Fire, the book also inverts the common practice of placing non-English terms in italics, which I thought was a brilliant reversal of expectations and foregrounds the importance of Ojibwaymowin.)

All of these terms and names need to appear in the index and they impact how I index. I’ve developed the following best practices for myself.

  • Since the authors and publishers are making an effort to highlight and privilege these Indigenous languages, I think it is important that the index does so as well. However, I don’t know if readers will be familiar with these terms, or whether they will first search in English or the Indigenous language, and so the index needs to be searchable in both. I achieve this by double-posting everything. If an array uses subheadings, I make the Indigenous term or name the preferred main heading and include a cross-reference from the English. The index will be substantially longer than a similar, monolingual book, with so many double-posts and cross-references, but I think it is worthwhile to ensure that the Indigenous names and terms are included.
  • Similarly, in subheadings, I try to use Indigenous terms when appropriate, along with the English translation in parentheses. While also making for longer subheadings and larger arrays, I think it is still worthwhile to consistently use and emphasize the Indigenous terms throughout the index.
  • Diacritics and special characters are used in many of these languages, as in Sḵwx̱wú7mesh Sníchim and Dań K’è (Southern Tutchone). The publisher is likely using a special font. Make sure that you are using the correct characters, either through copying-and-pasting from the proofs or style guide, or otherwise coordinating with the press. For Sḵwx̱wú7mesh Sníchim terms, I was also asked to factor in pops/glottal stops (‘ and 7) when alphabetizing, which took a little bit of work to figure out how to properly force-sort.
  • I’ve also learned that it is often important to include “Chief” in the main heading, for the appropriate individuals. This is something I now regularly query, to make sure I am on the same page with what the author and nation expects. For example, in Sḵwx̱wú7mesh Sníchim, siyám means highly respected person, and siyám is often incorporated into the name, as in X̱ats’alánexw Siy̓ám̓.  “Chief” is used in English, and should be included in the name and main heading, as in “Khatsahlano, Chief August Jack.”

I do wonder if I am the best person to index these books. As a white settler, I don’t have a grounding in an Indigenous culture or community. Would an Indigenous person have a different approach to writing these indexes? I am curious to know and hope to have that conversation one day. The Indexing Society of Canada/Société canadienne d’indexation is working to support prospective Indigenous indexers, among other underrepresented and marginalized groups, through its Diversity in Canadian Publishing Bursary. I look forward to seeing what comes from that initiative.

In the meantime, I am honored to index these books. I hope that the indexes add value, both for the Indigenous communities discussed and for non-Indigenous readers, and that the indexes help to make these languages more visible.

Do you ever index books with a lot of names and terms from Indigenous languages? Or other non-English languages? What are some tips you have for incorporating and shaping the index? Feel free to leave a comment and let me know.

Article
February 6, 2024
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by Stephen

A Member of the Team? Freelance Indexers Within Publishing

Freelancers are ubiquitous within publishing. Most publishers maintain a relatively small number of in-house staff, with much of the actual production work contracted out. What does this mean for the relationship between freelancer and publisher?

Before I dig into this topic, I want to acknowledge that I write from a place of having previously been on the inside, and from also now having been a freelancer for about eleven years. When I first began working in publishing, I worked in-house for two different publishers. I developed a strong sense of publishing as a team effort, with each person, whether in-house or freelance, contributing to the finished book. As a freelancer, I have retained this sense of being part of a team, and in my ideal working relationship with a publisher, we respect each other as team members. That said, I am also aware that many freelance indexers do not have in-house experience, and that publishers can come across as opaque and unapproachable. 

This reflection draws upon my own experience and what I would like to see. Your experiences and ideal working relationship may be different. I am curious to hear what you think, in the comments. If you are a new freelance indexer, I hope this gives you some ideas for what a positive working relationship can be like.

To start, let’s look at a couple of recent experiences I’ve had.

The Editor Who Couldn’t Care Less

Some publishers, or at least certain editors within those publishers, couldn’t seem to care less about the freelancers supporting their work. I encountered this a few months ago when I was hired by an author to index their book, which was being published by an independent academic press. (For the sake of this reflection, I’m keeping authors, editors, and publishers anonymous.)

Indexing guidelines were scant, though it seemed that both run-in and indented formats would be accepted. Working with the author, I submitted the index in run-in format. To our surprise, the editor unilaterally changed the format to indented, on the grounds that indented is easier to read. I actually agree with the editor on the format, but that’s not the point. If the editor felt so strongly about the format, they should have made that clear upfront.

We asked the editor about the change, and the editor confirmed that the press does indeed accept both run-in and indented formats, except, I guess, when the editor decides they know what is best. Reverting to run-in format was not an option. I followed up with some additional concerns, since the structure, as I originally envisioned it in run-in format, no longer worked quite as well. I also asked that in the future the editor provide clearer instructions, to avoid this extra and unnecessary work caused by this unilateral change. In reply, the editor made very clear that they had no interest in communicating with me nor in providing clearer instructions. The editor stated that they primarily work with scholarly authors who apparently get confused by too many instructions, and so the editor is used to taking whatever the author provides and formatting it as they see fit.

The irony is that I had already been hired by a different author to index a second book for the same press (which I submitted in indented format). The editor seemed unaware and uninterested in the fact that at least some of their authors were hiring professional indexers. Even if I am not in direct contact with the editor, I would suggest that we are still on the same team, and that better communication, whether directly or in the form of clearer indexing instructions, would make for a better book and a smoother production process for both of us.

The Editor Who Gets It

That same author who hired me to write the first index later passed my name on to a friend, who turned out to be the manager editor for two small university presses. That editor got in touch and, after a few emails back and forth sorting out the details for how we might work together, wrote, “Welcome to the team!”

Guess which editor I want to work with.

Being Part of a Team

Every publisher and project is going to be different. Some publishers prefer to be hands-off, making the index the author’s responsibility and not wanting to be in direct contact with the freelancer. I understand that the in-house editors are often very busy juggling multiple books. I respect the desire to be hands-off and I let the author take the lead on how communication flows between me, the author, and the press. In other cases, I am hired directly by the press, and so I am in regular contact with the in-house managing or production editor. For complicated projects, I may also be put in contact with the copyeditor, proofreader, or designer—whoever is best placed to answer my questions—which really does feel like I am part of the team. 

As a freelance member of the team, I recognize that I am being hired to perform a service. I realize that I don’t always get the final say, and if the author or publisher insist, I will revise the index as asked, even if I disagree. That said, part of being a team also means having my role and expertise respected. I appreciate at least being consulted on potential changes and to have my opinion taken seriously, even if the author or press ultimately decides otherwise. Respect also involves clear communication, whether direct, through the author, or through the indexing guidelines, so that I can properly do my job and have a way to ask questions. 

Being a freelancer also means recognizing when I am not part of the team. This took me a while to learn, as I was initially used to being part of the in-house team. But as a freelancer, I work with multiple authors and publishers. What is best for my business is not necessarily in line with what the publisher wants. While working together with authors and publishers on specific books, I also need to have boundaries with clients, to be able to say no when a project or publisher is not a good fit or if my schedule is already full.

For me, at least, it doesn’t take much to feel included. I don’t need a small gift or card at Christmas (though it is a lovely surprise when it occasionally happens), nor do I need to be included in company-wide meetings (though again, a nice gesture, especially if the meeting pertains to freelancers and my time is compensated, as did once happen). What matters is feeling appreciated. A word of thanks for the index. A willingness to answer questions. A desire to work together again in the future. Basically, an openness to a positive professional relationship that makes it easy to get the work done. 

What are your thoughts on the freelancer-publisher relationship? Do you feel part of a team? Or do you feel shut out or disrespected? What do you look for in a positive working relationship? Please feel free to reply in the comments and let me know.

Article
March 17, 2019
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by Stephen

Mindful Communication with Clients

Photo by Anete Lūsiņa on Unsplash

I do not check email in the morning.

Depending on the day, I either first check around 12:30 pm or 1:30 pm and respond to what I can within half an hour, though I often don’t need that much time. I then check again around 5 or 5:30 pm, though I have to admit that as the afternoon wears on, it can get harder and harder not to check in the interim. Especially if I am expecting a reply from someone. 

This is a new practice I have been cultivating over the last couple of months. The purpose is to spend the hours reserved for work actually focused on my work, instead of being distracted by emails that may or may not (mostly not, in my experience) need an immediate reply. So far this has been a positive experience. If clients have noticed, they have yet to comment or complain. The biggest change has been in myself.

I had previously noticed, when I would check email first thing in the morning and then continue to check every hour or couple of hours, that my motivation for checking email was often a mixture of boredom and anxiety. I would feel bored with my task and the prospect of a shiny new email was enticing. I would feel anxious about my task or about something coming up in the future and checking email was a way to avoid the anxiety. More often than not, my inbox would be empty or only contain junk mail or other messages that could be easily left for later, and so I would have to return to my task, only this time with my attention fractured. It would then take additional time to get back into the task, which meant I would often accomplish less in the day than I wanted, which often led to more anxiety. The more I checked, the more fractured my attention seemed to get and the harder it would be to return to my work. While email is still my preferred form of communication (my phone is usually on vibrate and out of sight in my bag), I came to realize that the way I was using email was not actually helping me, either with my work or with my mental health.

Nowadays, I can still get bored or anxious with a specific task. I am still tempted to check email as a temporary balm. These are separate issues not directly tied to email. I also find that I am often much happier in the mornings because I have the time to myself and I can focus without fear of being interrupted. Afternoons can be more difficult, in part from simply getting tired as the day wears on, but if I can stick to my email schedule and temporarily forget again that email exists, the afternoon can also be quite focused and productive. While I still need to find ways to manage anxiety and boredom, at least I am not escalating those issues through mindless email checking. 

But what about responding to clients in a timely manner? What about missing out on possibly work opportunities? In talking to other freelancers, this seems a common concern. I have heard some say that they try to reply to emails within five minutes of receipt. If that was me, I do not think I would get any work done, as for me focus seems to be all or nothing. And so I want to push back a bit on this expectation of instant communication.

Most of my work comes from repeat clients and I have found that they are usually willing to wait a few hours for a response. I still try to reply within the same day. I do get some queries from new clients, some of whom I know are contacting multiple freelancers at once. I probably have lost some work from these people due to a slower response, and I am okay with that. These account for a small percentage of my work, and for me the improved focus, productivity, and sense of well being outweighs the lost projects.

I have also realized that I don’t actually get very many emails in a day that require an immediate, or any, response. Most emails I receive are newsletters, notifications, or from listservs, all of which may have some value but are hardly critical. I am not adding value to my day by frequently checking these types of emails. 

It has also been important for me to realize that my work is valuable and deserves to be protected. This is both for my own sake, so that I can complete projects on time with less stress, and also for my clients, because I think that my work is better if I am less distracted. This is understanding that communication is a tool in service of the work rather than the work itself. 

I realize, of course, that my email schedule will not work for everyone. New freelancers, especially, who are trying to book every project they can, may want to check more frequently. But even with more frequent checking, I think it is possible to be more mindful about how we communicate and how communication impacts and intersects with the rest of our work. Perhaps less and higher quality communication will actually help us serve our clients better, as well as keep ourselves more focused and engaged in what we do.