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How to Marinate an Index and Other Time Factors

“How long does it take to index a book, anyway?”

This is one of the most common questions I am asked by non-indexers. It is a fair question. What is this alchemy of words and numbers that I do from which an index is created? Do I actually have to read the whole book?

This is also an important question for editors and authors who are looking to hire an indexer. How much time does the production schedule need to allow for indexing? If a rush job is required, how rushed is reasonable?

To answer this question, I often say that I can complete most indexes in fifteen to twenty-five hours. These are hours spent at the computer, actively working on the index. This is true enough, in that I time myself and these are the numbers I get. But it is still a simplistic answer. A better answer is, if I have no other projects on the go, I can complete an index for a 200 page book in three days. Three long days, depending on the book’s content, but still, three days. A week is more comfortable for me, for most books. I currently index, on average, 4-5 books per month.  

Most of my clients, when they send me a project, give me two to four weeks to complete the index (different clients have different schedules). Occasionally I am asked to complete an index in less time, which I might be able to do, but I still prefer at least two weeks. Why is this? Does this not contradict what I wrote above about completing an index in three days? Even three days is a somewhat simplistic answer. There are a number of factors that affect how long it takes to write an index. 

Length and Complexity

Let’s start with the easiest factors. A long book will usually take longer to index than a short book. A more complex book—as in complexity in structure, argument, or subject matter—will also usually take longer to index than a simple book. This is usually the different between a book intended for a general audience and a book intended for a specialist or scholarly audience. If you are an author or editor, think about the audience for your book and how it is written, as well as the page or word count. That should give you an idea for how long it will take to write the index.

Overlapping Projects and Deadlines

Some indexers prefer to work on only one project at a time. I see value in that. It is easier on the mind to not have to switch back and forth between projects. For that reason I try not to work on more than two indexes at a time, though I am currently working on three. When I edit an index, I also tend to double down and not work on anything else until I am done, in order to maintain focus and to keep the big picture of the index in my mind. 

But still, I often do work on more than one index at a time. I also usually have one or more projects waiting on my desktop for me to start. This means what while I may have three weeks to complete an index, I am not actively working on that index everyday for those three weeks. I am sorry if this bursts your conception of how I work. Please know, however, that sometime in those three weeks I will write the best index for you that I can.  

Why do I work like this, with multiple overlapping projects? The main reason is that publishing schedules often change. When I book a project, I mark those dates on my calendar and I try to space projects in a reasonable way. I also believe that my clients are being sincere about the dates they give me. But, dates change. I may learn about changes a few weeks or a month in advance, or it might just be a few days. I have decided that in order to maintain a full schedule, so that a change of dates does not leave a big hole, it is worthwhile to have overlapping projects. Having two or more weeks to complete an index, while technically more time than I usually need, does allow me to work on more than one project at a time, as well as provides a cushion when schedules slip. 

Time to Think

This, in my opinion, is the most important factor when thinking about the time it takes to write an index. If I am indexing a short book that will take, say, eight hours, I could conceivably write the index in one day. But I would never want to do that. Why? Because that kind of compressed work does not give me time to think.

What do I mean by this? Surely I am thinking all throughout the indexing process. There is reading the text and understanding what it means. There is thinking at the micro level, about what main headings and subheadings to use, and how to word them. There is thinking at the macro level, about the index structure. Then there is the final edit, which is a different sort of thinking from reading the book and creating the initial entries. In order to edit with a freshed mind, I prefer to start editing the day after I finish reading the book. So, yes, a lot of thinking goes into the index. 

By time to think, I also mean time away from the index, time that is not captured in those eight hours. These are insights that come to me when I am at the gym, washing the dishes, or driving. Sometimes if I am stuck I will simply go for a walk, hoping that the break and the change in activity will stimulate my thinking. I find that these moments away from the index, when I give my subconscious a chance to hum along while I do something else, are crucial to writing the index. In a way, the index needs time to marinate. The index will be better for spacing the work out over a few days.

Time to Rest

Related to time to think is time to rest. This is both for within a project and between projects. Reading sixty or a hundred pages per day, and created index entries, is a lot of information to process. My mind often feels like mush at the end of the day, and I need to take time to rest so that I can do it again the next day. The same is true between projects, especially as I prefer, as I mentioned, to double down on editing to keep the big picture in my mind. This can make for some long days editing. Depending on how I am feeling, I might take the next day off, or at least work fewer hours, to give my mind a chance to recover.

Rush Jobs

I mentioned rush jobs at the beginning of this post and how they fit in. When a client asks for a rush job, it usually means that I am being asked at the last minute, and the index is due in a week or less. Given that I am already often working on a couple of indexes, I usually turn down rush jobs. If you are lucky, another project has slipped and I have an unexpected hole in my schedule, but that is usually the exception. The other exception is if I really want to work on the project, for whatever reason, or if I am doing it as a favour to the client, at which point I am probably working evenings and the weekend to fit it in.

Figuring out the time it takes to write an index is complicated. Being a freelancer and working with multiple clients means a fluid schedule. There are the deadlines, and then there is how I structure my days and weeks to actually meet those deadlines. If you are an author or editor, hopefully this blog post will give you a better understanding of what you are helping to set in motion when you say, please complete this index in two weeks.  If you are an indexer, what factors are at play for you?

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Code-Switching, in Language and in Freelance Life

My childhood was conducted in three languages. 

At home, my family spoke English. School, from grade one to halfway through grade three, was conducted in Mandarin Chinese (half way through grade three I transferred to the English-speaking international school, where we still had daily Mandarin classes). The language spoken at the church my family attended was primarily Taiwanese, which is the language my parents first learned when we moved to Taiwan. Everyday life outside of church, school, and home was conducted in a mixture of Taiwanese and Mandarin, except for the rare occasions when we got together with other foreigners. 

The technical term for this fluent switching back and forth is code-switching. Most Taiwanese are experts at this. If you only know one of the two main languages in Taiwan, there is much that you will not understand.

As a kid, I took code-switching for granted. Even today, though my ability to speak in Mandarin and Taiwanese is rusty, and my vocabulary is not as broad as I would like, my comprehension remains stable. I can still follow a conversation in which Taiwanese, Mandarin, and English are all being used in some combination. I often think in Mandarin and Taiwanese. This is not something that I consciously try to do; it just is, in the same way that I can understand Taiwanese, but am unable to explain its seven tones.

I have been thinking about code-switching recently in relation to my work. I have been juggling multiple projects over the last few weeks. Too many projects, it seems. There is the indexing, of course, often two books at a time, with more waiting my attention. I am also consulting on a long-term project rewriting a policy document, which is a new type of work for me. I am also nearly finished proofreading a book, for which I also wrote the index. Add in an hour of writing for myself every morning, and it feels like each day I am working on four distinct projects, at least, trying to keep each moving forward towards their respective deadlines.

Am I too busy? I admit I have taken on too many projects. Learning to say no to clients continues to be a challenge, while also accurately judging how long projects will take to complete, my own energy, and being protective of my own time and priorities. I am still learning how quickly or slowly I can turn around a project, which seems to vary anyway as I become more proficient at indexing, or if a project is easier or harder than expected. It is the usual fluid and chaotic schedule of a freelancer, or at least how I imagine most freelancers work. 

Specifically, I have been thinking about my need to quickly switch between projects throughout the day.  I need to put down my consulting for the day and pick up the indexing or proofreading from where I left off the day before. I need to be able to finish indexing a chapter in one book and then start indexing the next chapter of another book. I do not have much time to catch up on what I previously completed; I need to have that knowledge ready to go.

This is tough work, I am realizing. It takes a mental toll to be on like this throughout the day, to be able to jump from task to task, and topic to topic, while maintaining the same pace throughout. I try to make it easier by working on these projects in the same order each day, so that I can have a routine and rhythm that I can take for granted. 

I have also been wondering if code-switching might be a metaphor for this switching back and forth. A bad metaphor, perhaps. Code-switching in speech often occurs within the same sentence, at least in Taiwan. The switching I am doing in my work is sequential and not nearly so rapid. But I still have to maintain fluency, so to speak, in all projects. The pivot from one to the next has to feel effortless.

Easier said than done, I know. This post is not meant to brag about how much I can accomplish. It is, instead, admitting that I’ve been in over my head again these last few weeks, trying to do too much. I look forward to saying goodbye to projects and finding some margin again for rest and other activities. I find three projects per day to be my sweet maximum. That is the number I need to keep in mind as I book projects and plan my schedule.

If you are a freelancer, how do you tame your schedule? Do you try to work on more than one project at a time?

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Cutting the Index: Tips for Trimming to Meet Space Limitations

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The words I dread the most from a client are, “You only have x number of pages for the index.”

Those words put me on notice that I will probably have to censor myself as I write the index. Instead of thinking, “How can I make this information most accessible?” I start to think, “Of the access points available, which should I use and which can I do without?” I start to triage potential entries and subheadings, labeling some for potential deletion, while others may not even get included in the rough draft. This approach is the opposite of how I want to index, which is to be comprehensive and inclusive. I want the information in the book to be fully accessible. Not surprisingly, my indexes tend to be on the thick side. 

But, sometimes there are limits. Maybe the client can’t afford to add an extra signature or half signature. (Books are printed in blocks of pages called signatures. See here for more information.) Or maybe the full index will only fill part of an extra signature, and again, it just isn’t worth the extra cost to only fill an extra page or two. Publishers generally don’t like empty pages at the end of a book. In some cases, the client may have a pre-established notion for how long the index should be, perhaps based on a formula to calculate the length of the index. But I would suggest that every book is different. A formula can give you a rough estimate, but it doesn’t take into account the content of an individual book. For these clients, a longer index might be acceptable if you can justify it. 

So, step one, if told that there is a space limitation and if you have examined the proofs and are leery of the page limit being enough, is to ask if the limit is negotiable. Because it might be. Maybe you won’t be able to get the full number of pages you want, but you might get a few more.

If you find with a particular client that you often have trouble with the space they allot, you might also want to contact them to discuss the issue. They may be unaware of the problem, there may be factors for the length of the index that you are unaware of, and having a frank discussion about the index length may lead to happier times on future projects. At the very least, raising the issue shows that you are engaged in the client’s books and in doing the best job you can. If nothing changes, that might also be an indication that you should fire the client and find another client or two that share your indexing vision.

But even if you do decide to eventually move on from this client, this particular index still needs to be finished. You know it is too long. How are you going to shoehorn it into the allotted space?

I always start by prioritizing what I want to keep. This may seem counterintuitive, because the immediate goal is to make the index shorter. But it is still important to keep the ultimate purpose of the index in mind, and that is to make the information in the book accessible. So what, out of all of the entries, absolutely needs to be in the index?

The metatopic is a good place to start. What is the book about? Are there specific people or case studies that the author discusses at length? Concepts that carry the argument forward? Let’s call these the core entries, the entries that lead the reader to the meat of the book. These entries get the comprehensive treatment, and I will do my best to leave them unscathed. 

The rest of the information I prioritize in decreasing importance. Think of it as concentric rings around the core entries. When I start cutting, I start with the outermost ring–the least important entries–and work my way towards the core. The goal is to get the index to fit while inflicting the least damage. 

How do I do this? There are three aspects of the index I focus on.

As I mentioned, I sometimes label entries as I index. One type of label is for entries that seem minor or tangential to the main subject of the book. Some of these might be considered borderline passing mentions, and I pick them up in my first pass through the text in case they are discussed more fully later on. In a comprehensive index, I would probably include most of these entries. If the index needs trimming, these can be a good place to start. Since they are labelled, it is pretty fast to find and cut. 

Another easy cut is to get rid of subheadings. My usual rule of thumb is to add subheadings if there are more than 6 locators per entry, but if space is tight, I might increase this limit to 8-10 locators. Another option is to combine subheadings. This way the subheads are not as precise, but there will be fewer of them. The importance of the entry is also a factor in deciding how to deal with the subheadings. Where on those concentric rings does the entry lie? If it is close to the core, I am less inclined to heavily modify it. If it is more of an outlier, I’ll cut deeper. 

I also earlier mentioned reducing access points to the information. One common way to provide multiple access points is to double-post, say under both an acronym and the full term or name spelled out. Another is to have the information as a stand-alone heading and as a subheading (or two) under the relevant umbrella terms. You can also think of multiple access points in terms of an event, for example, the bombing of Pearl Harbour, and then the different people, organizations, and concepts involved in that event. By providing these multiple access points, the reader can search using whatever term they want and will still, ideally, find the relevant information.

But maybe there isn’t enough space for all of these access points. So you have to think, what are the most important access points? Instead of double-posting, what is the reader most likely to look for? Is it better to have stand-alone entries or to consolidate entries under umbrella terms? Can nested entries be used to concisely delineate the metatopic, instead of scattered entries? Can cross-references be used judiciously to steer readers to the one and only access point? The goal is to still make the information accessible. The access points can’t disappear entirely. You just have to be a little more creative on how to make those access points pop.

You may be wondering, how do I decide which are the most important access points? How do I prioritize the information and entries? I admit that it is not an exact science. You will have to make a judgment call while knowing that someone else might make that call differently. You might also find that you need to change your mind as you cut. Those subheadings that you were holding onto? The index is still too long, so bye-bye subheadings. Those people who played a relatively important role in that event? Well, they now need to be reassessed as relatively minor, and cut. Cutting the index like this feels like intentionally dulling a sharp knife. Sometimes that is what you have to do.

Throughout all of this, try to be consistent in what you cut. If you decide that acronyms need to go, then take out all acronyms, unless there is a very compelling reason to keep one or two. When I cut, I still want the final index to look thoughtfully structured. I don’t want the cutting to be random, or for a reader to wonder why one entry is present and another term, identical in type, isn’t.

It isn’t fun trimming an index that you already consider to be print-worthy. Especially if you have to cut deep. That hurts, seeing your hard work reduced to something less than what it was. But if you do have to cut, have a plan. Keep the ultimate purpose of the index in mind–making the information in the book accessible. Understand the structure of your index, and understand how that structure might have to change as you cut. Figure out how to prioritize the content of the index. This will make it easier to identify, out of the hundreds or thousands of entries, what can be cut. Do all of this–a controlled cutting process–and the end result should still be a usable index.

What are some of your favourite ways to trim an index? What do you cut first?

 

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Surfing the Schedule, and Those Damn Easy Projects

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It has been a busy year.

I had projects waiting for me when I got home from Christmas holidays, and the work hasn’t stopped since.

It has been pretty tiring at times too. Working evenings and weekends? Check. Working on two indexes at once? Check. Have projects that take longer to finish that anticipated? Check. Have books arrive either earlier or later than scheduled? Check again.

Book publishing is definitely dynamic. Each book has its own production schedule. Each production schedule involves multiple editors, proofreaders, designers, and even, sometimes, an indexer, not to mention the author. Each editor/proofreader/designer/indexer is themselves most likely working on multiple projects at once, or at least has the next project lined up for when the current one is finished. The system is ripe for schedule slippage, for deadlines overlapping, for projects banging into the next, you eyeing the calendar and the clock trying like hell to put this baby to bed so that you can get on to the next project, with its own increasingly looming deadline.

It gets chaotic. With multiple schedules piling up, I feel like I am surfing, trying to stay ahead of the wave, reach the shore in one smooth movement, before heading back out to sea to catch the next wave. What can happen instead, though, is that I lose my balance, the wave knocks me off my board, I get buffeted around in the surf for a while before I can surface and breathe again. At that point either the next wave has already passed me by or it is right on top of me.

So, schedules. They are important.

I have been learning this anew these last seven months, the busiest winter and spring I’ve had so far as a freelancer. But it is important to note, however, that there are two types of schedules at play. The first, which I have already mentioned, is the production schedule that each book is on. This I have very little control over. If the schedule doesn’t suit me, I can ask my client if the schedule can be changed. Sometimes the client is able to accommodate me and sometimes they can’t, at which point either I change my schedule or another freelancer gets the project.

The second schedule, which I do have more control over, is my personal daily/weekly/monthly work schedule. This kind of schedule is important too, if I am going to efficiently and effectively complete the indexing and proofreading projects that I have accepted. It has been this type of schedule that I’ve been learning that I really need to tighten up.

Specifically, here, I want to write about scheduling in what I call the easy books. If you work in publishing, you probably know the type. For me they are usually trade books, sometimes coffee table style, heavily illustrated. The subject matter is often engaging, and written in a fairly light manner. It usually isn’t long, maybe 200-250 pages, and the index won’t be long either.

I really enjoy these books. I enjoy many of the dense, academic books I get to index too, but after a dense book these short, trade books are just so fun and refreshing in comparison. They can be a good pick-me-up after slogging through a heavy 400 page tome.

I figure I can usually index the easy books in 10-15 hours, sometimes less. Surely I can find time for 10-15 hours over the course of a couple of weeks, right?

That is what I thought too until I started to notice a pattern over these last few months. When schedules got really tight, I found that I was focusing on the most difficult indexes first, because those where the deadlines I was most scared of. I wasn’t putting the time I needed into the easy books until the last minute, usually, at which point it was a mad scramble to finish the index. The “fun” indexes weren’t so funny anymore. They became a source of stress, feeling like I had taken on more work than I should have.

Was it really too much work, though, or was it a scheduling problem? A month ago I had another of these easy indexes to complete, and I decided to focus on my schedule. I still had a larger, more complex scholarly book to index as well, which I knew was going to take the bulk of my time and attention. But instead of spending all of my time on the scholarly book, I decided to take the first hour of work every morning and devote it to the easy book. It wasn’t much, an hour. I indexed maybe 20-30 pages in that time. But as I discovered, it was enough.

I chose to index the easy book in the morning so that I wouldn’t be tempted in the late afternoon or evening to push it off because I was tired from the hard book. Because I wasn’t indexing at the last minute I actually got to enjoy the easy book, which was a large part of why I had accepted it in the first place. I still had the whole rest of the day to work on the more difficult book. When it came time to edit the easier index, I still scheduled a full day to do that as I find it easier to edit in one long go than to break it up with another project, but scheduling one day is a whole lot easier than trying to squeeze in multiple days at the last minute. In the end, both the easy index and the more difficult index were finished on time and fairly stress-free. Success!

Is there anything else about my personal work schedule that I can change? Probably. I’ll take another look and perhaps write about this again. I think that work is more enjoyable and productive in a relatively stress-free environment, and schedules are certainly part of that equation.

In the meantime, what scheduling tips do you have for managing tight deadlines and multiple projects? I would love to hear.

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The Word List Approach to Indexing

Clients occasionally suggest to me that I start early on an indexing project, before the page proofs are finalized, by making a list of the terms that will appear in the index. The reasoning behind this is that when the page proofs are ready, I can search the PDF for these terms and quickly and easily fill in the page numbers. This is similar to when I hear people say that ebooks don’t need indexes, because the search function is sufficient.

This approach works for a limited number of books, such as certain reference or other fact-based books where the goal of the index is to point the reader to the facts. Name and title indexes could also be constructed using this method. Beyond this narrow range of projects, however, I think that the word list approach to indexing misses the point of what a good index seeks to accomplish.

Yes, searchable terms, if relevant to the reader, should be indexed, but a book is often so much more than its facts or names. A good biography or history will have a narrative. A good scholarly work will have an argument. A good cookbook index will have categories such as breakfast, lunch, and dessert, or spicy, savoury, and sweet, that may not be immediately obvious in the text but still relevant and helpful to the reader. These are the types of entries that cannot easily be found using the search function. If the index is truly a map, a reflection of the text, these entries need to be present.

I also question the assumption that starting with a word list gets the job done faster. In my work, I try to read the text and create the index entries at the same time. I am reading more slowly for comprehension as opposed to just reading for the key words, but overall I find that this is faster than reading once to make a word list or to mark up proofs, and then a second time (even if just using the search function), to input the entries. Of course, some books are more difficult to understand and require re-reading sections two or three times, and when I edit the index I do go back and check entries for accuracy–the one pass approach doesn’t always work as planned–but in my experience it is more efficient. Add in subheadings and the thematic and conceptual dimension of the index, being able to see the context while reading is far more helpful than using a search function.