It is a big book, and it is taking a while to get through. It is also not the only large volume I’ve indexed this year. I feel like I’ve done more than usual, including an Oxford handbook on Baptist studies, an edited collection on Black Canadian art and literature, and a biography of Canadian poet Margaret Avison. These are books that are the equivalent of two or three regular-length volumes. 

Large books can be challenging to index. I have a theory that the length of the index grows exponentially with the length of the book (while, maybe not quite exponentially, but the length does grow), because the longer the book, the more details there are to index, the more locators there are, and the more likely subheadings are needed. Subheadings take up more space and take more time to write and edit, and so the work goes on and on. Also, the larger the book, the more there is to keep in mind. I need to remind myself to reset my expectations for how long the index will take. 

I still want to complete the index efficiently and as quickly as possible, even if the overall number of days and weeks is longer. I’ve been reflecting on what it is I do that is different compared to indexing a shorter book. This is what I’ve gathered so far:

• I write more notes for myself, such as brief summaries for each chapter. Because there is so much more to remember, I don’t want to forget what the beginning of the book was about by the time I reach the end. These notes can also help me see the overarching storyline and themes running through the book.
• I slow down and consciously remind myself to connect back to the big picture. With so many pages to get through, the temptation is to rush and to focus on picking up the easy entries—the low-hanging fruit—of people, places, reactors, chemical elements, etc…Those details are important and need to be picked up, but why are they important? What is the larger discussion or story? I need to make sure that I am creating headings and subheadings at those broader levels too, which means slowing down and understanding what all this is actually about.
• I write subheadings at a broader level. I still pick up plenty of smaller details, but I think broader subheadings are both easier to understand and navigate, and can help keep the array at a manageable length. For main characters and topics, which are going to have a lot of subheadings anyway, indexing less granular may be the difference between forty subheadings versus sixty or eighty, for example. Forty subheadings is still a lot, while still being easier to scan. 
• As I mentioned, broader subheadings can also be easier to navigate. This is because they encompass more and clearly express the larger context. Say a person is involved in constructing the National Research Experimental (NRX) reactor, is quoted reflecting on the reactor, and is also present for the reactor’s meltdown. A more granular approach would be to have separate subheadings for each of those three elements, which are arguably distinct. But in a large array, those three subheadings may sort apart from each other and a reader may not see all of them. Three distinct subheadings also take up more space (see point above). Better, I think, for a single subheading at a broader level, “National Research Experimental (NRX) reactor and,” to capture all of those discussions. The details of construction and meltdown can still be delineated as subheadings under the reactor itself. 
• While indexing at a broader level, I still want main headings and subheadings to be clear and specific. Indexing at a less granular level is not synonymous with being vague. If I go back, say when editing the index, and I don’t know what the subheading is referring to, then I can’t expect the reader to know. The meaning needs to be clear. Which reactor? Which relationship? Which concept or discovery? I try to make my first pass as clear as possible, so I have less work on my second pass and so I don’t leave myself confused when I come back around again.
• Lastly, I want to acknowledge that I use subcontractors on this large projects. I usually ask subcontractors to pick up the names of people, and perhaps also other common elements, such as, for the Avison biography, titles of poems and other works. Having a subcontractor handle these aspects frees up my headspace to focus on the subject entries and the overall structure of the index. It also helps me to get through my own draft more quickly, because I have less to pick up. So many thanks to the indexers I work with. With so much material to get through, I find it can make a noticeable difference.

In one sense, indexing a large book is no different from indexing any other book. I still pick up the same types of entries and my process doesn’t change too much. On the other hand, everything that makes indexing a regular monograph difficult is magnified simply because there is more of it. There are more details, more entries, more subheadings, more cross-references. I find writing the index requires a bit more planning, more notes, and more patience. Because the big picture is so big, it can be difficult to focus on, and so I need to make an even more conscious effort to keep referring back to what the book is about.

The big picture—the story that is being told—is the underlying aboutness, which needs to be visible in the index. I don’t want to get lost while indexing, and I don’t want the reader to be lost either. I need to slow down, think through my decisions, make sure I am seeing as clearer as I can in that moment, so that the reader can hopefully see through me.

Today’s question comes from Kimberly:

 I’ve been giving each heading a subheading right from the start, with the idea that it might be easier to delete unneeded ones than to go back and figure out what they should all be. Do you think this is more likely to speed me up or slow me down?

Great question, Kimberly, and thank you for asking. I appreciate that you are thinking ahead and anticipating that subheadings may be needed. Adding subheadings early can certainly be more efficient, while that information is fresh in your mind, than waiting until later. But is it more efficient to add subheadings to all headings? I’m not convinced about all. 

If you look at most indexes, most arrays lack subheadings. The need for subheadings varies from book to book, but generally speaking, while all arrays should be relevant for the reader and point towards substantive information, only a few arrays are discussed extensively enough, or can be readily divided into subcategories, to warrant subheadings. So spending time creating subheadings for all headings runs the risk of creating a lot of subheadings which will later need to be deleted. Both writing and deleting subheadings takes time (though you are right that deleting can be easy).

A better approach is to try to anticipate which arrays will need subheadings and which will not. This way you can still be proactive about creating subheadings where needed while avoiding unnecessary ones.

Here are two ideas for how to determine whether subheadings are needed:

• Before beginning, get a sense for what the book is about. Maybe scan the table of contents, read the introduction, flip through a few chapters to see how the book is written. What is the book about? What are the main arguments, themes, or topics? For example, books are often organized so that each chapter has its own topic, which will likely need subheadings. Are there types of entries that may require subheadings? In a corporate history, for example, key leaders will probably receive a lot of mentions, enough to need subheadings. In a work of literary criticism, certain key authors and books will probably also need subheadings. Try jotting down a list of likely key topics. When indexing, be on the lookout for them and add those subheadings.
• Run a quick keyword search when you first encounter a name or topic. If you only get three hits, then no subheadings. If you get more than six or ten hits, or whatever your threshold for adding subheadings is, then yes, subheadings are probably necessary. Running quick searches does take a moment, but still quicker than adding and deleting.

If you do realize, partway through, that an array should have subheadings after all, don’t panic. Begin adding subheadings from the point you make that decision. If a few previous locators are still fresh in your memory, go ahead and backtrack to add those subheadings in too. Otherwise, it’s okay to fill in a few missing subheadings at the end, while editing the index. I find that adding two, four, or even six subheadings doesn’t actually take that much time. While it is good to be proactive, missing a few or changing your mind later isn’t that big a deal either. 

Another consideration is that I don’t always know what the subheading should be until I’ve read the whole book and better understand the discussion. So while creating a subheading from the start is a good idea, it is not always feasible. If you find yourself struggling to phrase the subheading or identify what the discussion is about, it’s okay, and may even be faster, to move on and come back to it later.  

Anticipating whether or not subheadings are needed is not an exact science. I still sometimes realize that a discussion is smaller or larger than I thought. But if I can correctly anticipate whether subheadings are needed for most arrays, adding or deleting a few subheadings is still quicker than adding or deleting for all arrays. 

The rough draft is not supposed to be perfect. Yes, trying to get entries right from the start can pay off later with less editing, and I think that maintaining a sense of momentum is also important. I don’t know what is in the book until I finish reading it, and I can’t finalize the index until I know what is in the book, and so while I want to put down my best attempt on the page while drafting, I also want to keep moving until I have a full draft and can assess what I have done. Subheadings are part of this process. Have some strategies to do your best while drafting, while also knowing that it will not be perfect and that it is okay to circle back and revise as needed. 

Tree planting, if you are unfamiliar, is seasonal work in which crews of mostly young people replant forests after the loggers have gone through, and sometimes also after forest fires. (I have the sense that tree planting, as I experienced it, is a distinctly Canadian job, though I could be wrong.) My Dad, two uncles, and an aunt all planted while in university, and so once I was university-bound, it felt natural and somewhat like a rite of passage for me to also go planting. In the interior of British Columbia, where I planted and where my Dad’s family is from, the planting season typically runs from the beginning of May to the end of July, which fits well with the university calendar. Planting can also be an excellent way to earn a lot of money quickly—I earned enough to cover tuition and living expenses for the year—provided you work hard, are willing to tolerate rough living and working conditions, and, most importantly, can learn how to plant fast. 

Tree planting is piece work, with the price, at least twenty years ago, averaging 9 to 11 cents per tree, sometimes a little more or less. Given how grueling the work is, spending all day outdoors on a clearcut, miles down a logging road in the middle of nowhere, while living in a tent in a camp with 60-80 other tree planters, it only feels worthwhile if you can earn more than a job in-town. My goal was to earn at least $200 per day, which meant planting at least 2000 trees per day.

The thing with planting and speed, though, is that it takes time to learn proper technique. To some extent the rookie year is a write-off, with the real money made when you return.

The procedure for planting a tree is as follows:

• Load up planting bags with 300 to 400 seedlings, a mix of pine and spruce. The bags are attached to a belt, strapped around the waist, one bag on each side with a third bouncing in the back. (I didn’t like how the weight felt in the back, so I loaded trees on my right and left sides, with my back pouch reserved for my water bottle.)
• Find the line on your piece of land assigned by the foreman. 
• Take three to five steps, scanning the ground for a good planting spot. Look for a high spot, well drained, ideally with creamy soil or red rot. Next to a stump is usually a good option.
• While stepping forward, reach into your bag with your tree hand and pull out a seedling by the root plug. 
• Also while stepping forward, raise shovel, with your other hand, and, when ready, throw it into the ground blade-first. (We would throw the shovel—precisely aimed—and release at the last moment to minimize impact on our hand and wrist.)
• In one fluid motion, open the whole using a curved stroke; insert the seedling, making sure that the root plug and tree are standing straight; and close the hole, either with a fist or a gentle kick. 
• Take three to five steps and repeat. 
• Oh, and well doing all of that, also occasionally rip off and drop pieces of flagging tape so you can see where you previously planted.

Easy, right?

Ideally, it takes ten seconds or less to plant a tree. Which is fast. You need to be in constant motion. Stopping to take a break or meandering across the block costs you money. But speed is only part of the equation.

The secret to planting quickly is to have no wasted movement. The eyes, hands, and feet all need to work in sync. While the eyes are looking ahead for where to plant next—while also watching out for branches, logs, and stumps, which are simultaneously tripping hazards, obstacles to maneuver around, and potential clues for where to plant—the hands and arms are already in motion, one hand selecting and preparing a seedling, all by feel, while the other arm is swinging and throwing the shovel. Bend over and both hands need to work together to open the hole, insert the tree, and close the hole.

It is tempting to move fast before the technique is locked in. After all, speed is money and we all wanted money. But my foreman, Hank, insisted that us rookies first learned proper technique. Yes, this meant that we would be slower in the short term. But an extra stroke or two with the shovel, multiplied 1500 or 2000 times over the course of a day, adds up. Fumbling for a tree, 1500 or 2000 times a day, adds up. Learn to plant efficiently and correctly, and more trees will get into the ground with less effort. 

(Not only was wasted movement costly in terms of time, but poor technique could also lead to poorly planted trees. If the checkers found too many problems—j-roots, too shallow, too deep, leaning, too close together, too widely spaced, poor locations—you were sent back to replant, which meant planting the same tree twice but only paid once.)

Hank also taught speed, once he was satisfied with your technique. Hank would either plant alongside me or walk in front, pointing out good planting spots. These sessions were usually short, maybe 10 or 20 minutes, but they left me scrambling to keep up and they gave me a taste for the pace I needed to aim for. Until Hank pushed me, I had no idea my body could move that fast over a chewed up cut block while carrying 400 seedlings. 

That first summer, I hit the 2000 tree mark only three or four times. By the time summer plant rolled around, in July, my technique was getting pretty good, but the terrain and planting conditions got more difficult and I was burning out. My second season, though, I hit 2000 trees within my first few days back and consistently pounded in 2000+ trees every day for the rest of the summer. I was officially a vet, no longer a rookie.

(To put this in perspective, consistently planting 2000 trees per day is a good benchmark for separating vets from rookies, though the real highballers in camp would consistently plant 3000+ trees per day. I never did crack that milestone, and I retired from planting after two summers to focus on less lucrative but more relevant summer employment, which eventually led to me learning how to index.)

Bringing this back to indexing, I still think in terms of technique first, speed second. Or, better yet, as an iterative cycle. Start with technique, add in speed, then go back to technique to see if anything can be adjusted in light of the new speed, and on and on. 

There are definitely ways to become more efficient and fast while indexing, including utilizing software, keyboard shortcuts, and creating macros, but while having their place, a macro, for example, can’t fix a poor understanding of index structure. Or, rapidly picking up and then deleting irrelevant entries is probably going to take more time than accurately assessing from the start what is indexable. 

If you want to be a quick indexer, start with learning and internalizing indexing fundamentals and best practices. Learn how to make better decisions and cleaner drafts. It may feel like slowing down in order to think through decisions, but these are decisions that will hopefully set you up for a strong finish. And yes, also add in macros and other shortcuts, and experiment with your process, but keep coming back to technique. What makes for a good index? How can you refine your process to support writing a good index? Start with quality, and speed, to some extent, will take care of itself.

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

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

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

And yet, I get frustrated.

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

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

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

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

Still, mastery before speed.

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