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Making Friends with My Calendar

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Happy New Year! 

I hope your holiday festivities were heart-warming and restorative. My wife and I started ours with our car dying the night before we planned to hit the road, though the holidays did get better from there and we are thankful for a few days with family. 

I don’t usually make New Year resolutions. I think that is largely due to a fear of failure, and of not knowing how to actually implement these goals and aspirations. Change is hard. But I have been thinking recently: if there is one thing I could change this year that would have a significant impact on my life, what would that be? I have decided that that one thing is to make friends with my calendar.

What do I mean by that? Why do I often feel like my calendar is my enemy, or at least a puzzle that is impossible to decipher? There are a number of reasons. Especially as my business has grown in the last few years, I have often felt like my schedule controls me. I feel like I need to work on evenings and weekends in order to meet deadlines, which means making trade-offs with other activities that are also meaningful. I realize this may not be so much a scheduling problem so much as an I’m-accepting-too-much-work kind of problem, but either way it boils down to feeling out of control and overwhelmed.

The problem goes deeper, however, as I have struggled with setting schedules for myself since university. This seems counterintuitive, as I actually thrive on routine. And therein lies the problem, I think. My tendency, when I devise a schedule for myself, is to stick to it as rigidly as possible. Interruptions or other unplanned changes cause me to panic and get disoriented, and eventually I abandon the schedule for a more reactive, and stressful, mode of being. I seem to be in a bind where not having a schedule is not serving me well, yet my typical approach to scheduling and calendars is also not serving me well. I need to find a better way. 

So how do I become friends with my calendar? I mentioned this resolution to my wife, and she astutely pointed out that it is quite an abstract goal. 

I agree with her, and I am okay with that. I am realizing that my relationship to my calendar and schedule is multi-faceted. There is coming to terms with my years of fears, anxieties, and frustrations with schedules. There is learning how to productively handle changes within a schedule. There is finding a scheduling framework that seems to work for me. There is understanding my own biorhythms so that I am working with myself, rather than trying to cram myself into an artificial construct. All of this will take time to figure out and understand.

One book I have read recently is Make Time: How to Focus on What Matters Every Day, by Jake Knapp and John Zeratsky. What I appreciate so much about their book, compared to some others I have read about calendars and schedules, is their acknowledgement that everyone is different. They offer eighty-seven tactics to try, but fundamentally their approach is to experiment and be reflective about what works and what doesn’t. I found it incredibly freeing to realize that I don’t need to have the perfect schedule right away, but I can take time to develop it, and that setbacks along the way are part of the process. Indeed, as I age and other life events happen, my schedule will probably continue to evolve. 

The book also discusses a scheduling technique from Cal Newport, who wrote the book Deep Work. In this technique, you write a new schedule for yourself every day, and leave room to revise the schedule as needed. This provides a mechanism—which I have been sorely missing—to thoughtfully acknowledge that change can and will happen, and to recognize that the remaining time can still be reallocated and used productively. I’ve been trying this for a week now, and it has been a helpful tool for reflection. I have handled interruptions better, and on the flip side, it has also helped me stick to my schedule when I’ve been tempted to change for no good reason. 

Another new initiative I’ve been using for about six weeks now is to put up white board wall stickers in my work space. This has been a fantastic change for me. I think I am still learning just how tactile and visually-oriented I am, as I am enjoying both seeing my work on the wall and the physical labour of writing, crossing out, and erasing. Borrowing the concept of sprints and burndown charts from a book I indexed, I list all of my current projects for a two-week period so I have the constant visual reminder of what I need to accomplish. I also graph my progress each day, so I can see where I am with each project. The whiteboard is also a great space to brainstorm, to write notes, and to make lists. I use it every day.

I already have some ideas for what else I want to try this year to become more comfortable with my calendar. I am happy with some of the results so far, and I am sure more ideas will come up as I experiment and reflect. I am hopeful that 2019 will be the year I finally get a handle on my schedule. I wish you all the best in your endeavours this year too.

What are some of the ways or resources you use to keep your calendar in order?

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Three Indexing Mind Hacks

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It has so far been a busy summer. That means tight deadlines and renewed thoughts about how to be more efficient in my indexing process. I mean, indexing is tough. It is constant analysis, understanding what the text means and discerning how to make the text accessible to readers. If there is a way to simplify or expedite part of the process, it does make a difference on overall indexing time and cognitive load.

Learning how to effectively use indexing software is one approach that is commonly advocated for becoming more efficient. I agree, and I think there is more that I can learn with the software I use, Cindex. 

As I have written about earlier, practice is essential for becoming a more efficient indexer. I find so much about indexing is understanding the different ways a book can be structured, understanding the different ways an index can be structured and written, and understanding when to go with one approach versus another. For me, at least, the only way I can learn this is by doing, over and over again, and being mindful of what I am doing so that I can learn with each index. I think that I am more efficient now than I was even just a year ago. I hope to continue to improve. 

Recently, though, I have been thinking about three techniques I use. These are all ways to externalize and capture my thoughts so I do not have to keep everything in my mind all at once. 

Mind Mapping

Mind mapping is a way to quickly diagram relationships. I find this exercise most helpful for understanding difficult books. There is something about writing down the different components of an argument, and physically drawing lines between them, that boosts clarity. It can also be a way to see if I have captured the full scope of the book in the index, as I compare the mind map, based on the book, to the index. I have been finding it so helpful that I am starting to do a quick mind map for all indexes I write, usually before I start the final edit. It only takes about ten minutes, and it gives me an opportunity to reflect.

There is a website on mind mapping, if you want to learn more. Software is available, both free and for a price. I occasional use Scapple, but honestly, I usually just use a pen and a scrap piece of paper. 

Notes

Another technique I have used for years is keeping notes. I use Notes, a program on my MacBook. I have one note per project, and I simply keep a running list of whatever I want to remember for later. These are often notes about terminology, if I am trying to decide between two or three options. Or these can be questions for the author, or errors that I am finding which I want to share with the client. Sometimes I just free write, in order to understand a concept or a relationship. For some books, I will just have a couple of notes, while for others I’ll end up with a page or two. 

By making a note, I am removing the thought or question from my mind, and I am giving myself permission to move on, knowing that I will be able to come back later and resolve the issue. There is too much thinking going on while indexing to remember every last error I found and question I have, so writing the note down frees up a lot of cognitive space. This is also a recognition that for a lot of issues, I will not know the answer until I have read further in the book and seen how the issue is addressed elsewhere, or perhaps I do need to ask the author. In the meantime, I have to keep working, and making notes that I can refer to later allows me to do that.

Labels and Highlights

Coming back to indexing software, there is a feature in Cindex, the software I use, that I am appreciating more and more as a form of note-taking. This is the ability to label, or highlight, entries. I assume the same can be done in other programs, like Macrex and Sky. 

When I label entries, I am flagging the entry with a colour to remind myself to take action at a later date. I will often use two or three different colours to remind myself of different things. The most common is for an entry I might want to cut. Especially if space is tight for the index, it saves a lot of time at the end to be able to search for the labeled entries and hit delete for all of them. I use a different colour if I think I might want to remove subheadings. Another common reason is for entries I want to revisit, but I am afraid I will forget if it is not labeled. 

As with notes, using labels is about externalizing my thoughts so that I can put that thought away for later.

Working full time as an indexer is often about finding ways to be efficient, so we can maintain a full schedule without burning out. These are three mind hacks that I use to process my thoughts more efficiently, and to focus better without being distracted by a host of other thoughts. If you are an indexer, what techniques do you use? I am curious.

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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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Plotter vs. Pantser? The Indexer Edition

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If you read my previous post on genre, I’d understand if you think that this is another post inspired by the When Words Collide writing festival that I attended mid-August. This post, however, was actually inspired by Larry Sweazy’s keynote address at the joint ASI/ISC indexing conference I attended in June. Summer is a great time for conferences.

You fiction writers may already be familiar with the terms plotter and pantser. They refer to how an author approaches the process of writing a story. Do you first plot out the story before writing, or do you start with a blank page and write by the seat of your pants? Larry Sweazy, who is both an established indexer and an award-winning fiction writer, adds a twist to this concept by applying it to indexing.

Pantsing an index is to read through the text and simultaneously create and input the terms into your indexing software, without prior reading or planning. To plot would be to read through the text, either the whole text or by chapter or section, mark it up so that you have an idea of what terms you want to use, and then create the terms in your indexing software based on your notes and rereading of the text.

There are excellent indexers who fall on both sides of this divide (just as there are excellent writers who swear by both). Pantsers say that they can always revise and finalize the index later, during the editing phase. Plotters take the view that they produce a better index, and have less editing to do, if they can first understand the text.

My take? I think a lot comes down to experience, though certainly work styles and how you process information are important too. When I first started to index, I would plot out the index, chapter by chapter. Eventually I started to pants. Part of my decision to change my indexing approach was from learning from other indexers that this was an actual, viable option. Time was also a factor. I was getting more work, feeling crunched, and wondered if pantsing would speed me up. The biggest factor for me, though, at least in terms of successfully transitioning to pantsing, was experience. I had indexed enough books to have a rough template in mind that I could use when indexing blind. I was confident that making a decision, and then revisiting that decision during the editing phase, was sufficient for creating an excellent index. Plotting added an extra step, in that I would make a decision while marking up the text, and then revisit that decision twice, while inputting the entry into the index, and again while editing. I decided that extra step wasn’t necessary.

Still, I sometimes do get a particularly difficult book to index, and for those books pantsing is not as effective. For those I may decide that I do need to do some plotting. Perhaps not pre-reading the entire book, but certain key sections that illuminate the whole.

I have also increased the number of notes I make for myself while I input the terms, which I skim when I am ready to begin editing. These are to remind me of potential trouble spots that I will want to revisit during the editing phase, or these notes serve as brainstorming of alternative terms, or of similar terms I am seeing in the index and want to mull over for which is best to use. I also sometimes use mind maps to help me organize and understand what I am reading. I find visualizing the relationships between terms to be a quick and effective way to understand the structure of the text and hence the index.

For the pantser, I think plotting can still play a role in certain circumstances. The trick is to recognize those circumstances, and adapt your indexing strategy accordingly.

Now as a writer, do I plot or pants? I have to admit that I usually plot. I can often get away with pantsing short works of nonfiction, but fiction is another story. Right now I am experimenting with different plotting techniques, seeing what works best for me. I wonder if this will change too as I gain experience.

And Larry Sweazy? A pantser all the way, in both writing and indexing. That man has it figured out, or, better said, doesn’t, but knows how to finish the project regardless.

 

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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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Metaphors for Writing an Index

construction-work-carpenter-toolsI am often asked, “How do you write an index?” This is often followed by, “Do you actually read the whole book?”

Yes, actually, I do read the whole book. I need to know and understand the content that I am to direct the reader to. A computer search function may be able to pick out words and phrases, but only I, as the reader, can figure out (hopefully) what the text means.

But leaving aside the question of how an index is written, I’ve been thinking recently about the experience of writing an index. What kind of metaphors are used to describe an index and the indexing process? Though an index is a concrete object (or as concrete as a digital object can be, if the index is in digital form), the idea of an index and the creation of an index can seem pretty abstract.

Many indexers compare an index to a map. This makes sense in that both an index and a map are supposed to help you find what you want, or where you are going. Both try to identify and highlight the information that is most relevant for its audience, making the information more readily comprehensible. The indexer, then, becomes a mapmaker, and writing an index mapmaking.

When I first started indexing I thought of it as piecing together a puzzle. This soon evolved to piecing together a 3D puzzle. There was something about the layering of information in an index, through subheadings, nested entries, double-posts, cross-references, and learning how to deal with the metatopic that, in my mind, added dimensionality to the index. The puzzle part was figuring out how all the different components and pieces of information fit together in a coherent, searchable format.

More recently, I’ve been thinking about indexing in terms of building a house. The initial reading through the text and creating entries is like the unearthing of the building materials, and arranging these materials in the place where I think they should go. But until I get to the end of the book, I don’t know yet what all of my building materials will be, nor do I have a firm blueprint. Once I start editing the index, I can finalize the construction of my index/house. I can decide that yes, this is where this 2 x 4 is supposed to be, and hammer it into place. Or, maybe I realize it needs to be adjusted or moved, and I can do that and then hammer it in. It is immensely satisfying hammering a board into place.

What kind of metaphors do you use to describe indexing or indexes?

 

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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.