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Le crayon rougeA large part of my “journey” from IT professional to editor is bolstering my own confidence level. While I’ve edited, copy edited, and proofread over a dozen novel-length books and scores of shorter works — both for myself and for others — I haven’t done this work as an editing professional. That, when put alongside the generally unstructured education I received in grammar (Hey, it was the ’60s; we didn’t burden ourselves with rules), means that while I have an innate command of the English language, I sometimes struggle to put into words exactly why an error is, in fact, an error.

The curse of being an autodidact is that I can miss things in my self-learning curricula, and that means I often fret about the completeness of my skill sets. The old 80/20 adage states that most of the time (80%), you only use a small portion (20%) of the skill set; conversely, the lion’s share of the skill set is seldom needed. In teaching myself a new skill, it’s relatively easy to learn that first twenty percent, but it is deuced hard to uncover the secrets of the infrequently used remainder.

As you can imagine, these gaps erode my confidence. Big time.

To counter this, I’ve been studying like mad. I quizzed my editor friends about classes and coursework, and received some guidance on what is of value and what might not be. Some suggestions were easier to implement than others.

Continue Reading »

Going to the cinema is a less-than-optimal experience for me. Rude audience members, sticky floors, cell phone bleeps and ringtones, and neighboring theater boom-boom-bleed-through make the experience rather … challenging … for a purist. Last week, however, I took a couple of days off for our anniversary and, since Seattle is currently suffering under a heat wave and we’re both a couple of heat-wimps, we opted for midday movies at the cinema. First showings on a weekday mitigate the downsides of the cinematic experience while leaving the upsides (massive screen, surround sound, that distinctive popcorn smell) intact.

We saw two movies in the theater and watched one at home and they were — as this post’s title suggests — excellent, good, and great.

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Riding the Rails

Le crayon rougeIt’s been a week of riding the rails, but not trains. . . roller coasters.

I’ve been studying for my new, hoped-for profession, and have been jack-rabbiting between euphoric leaps of über-confidence and bone-crushing impacts of complete despair. The fact is, even though I know how to edit and proofread, I still have much to learn–it’s why I’m shooting for a junior position and not expecting to swan into a job as an editor.

The massive amount of information I’ve been ingesting–reading, studying, taking tests to improve my skills and technique–has set my brain on fire. Sleep comes only with assistance, and lasts only until about 4 A.M., when my brain wakes up again, my inner vision spattered with blood-red proofreader marks and my heart hammering in panic. I try to clear my eyes, blinking away excerpts from the Chicago Manual of Style and swatting at ill-formed sentences hanging in the air above my head.

Worse, it’s affected my waking life.

No longer can I walk down the street, take the bus, or read the paper in peace. Now, every written word is a challenge, a test, and here’s the worst part:

There are mistakes everywhere.

I can’t not see them, now. Grammatical errors, spelling errors, then vs. than, rogue apostrophes and quote marks. Every-frakking-where.

Monday, I watched a training video for work. Not having audio, I turned on the closed-captioning. It took me half again as long to complete the damned thing because I spent so much time mentally correcting the errors in the text as it scrolled past.

I presume that professionals either become inured to the effects of these mistakes, or learn how to switch it off. For me, though, right now, it’s a constant barrage of misshapen sentences, Caliban-content cavorting around me, just beyond the reach of my red pencil, taunting me, testing me.

Some days, some hours, I know I can do this job and love it, too, but when that roller-coaster tips over the edge and I see just how deep the chasm is, it’s petrifying.

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Typewriter

Chairman MeowLet’s take a break from news about my career change (because there’s no news to report) and turn to a quandary solved. I speak, of course, of the answer to the crucial question: “Xbox One or PS4?”

I’ve been asking myself this question for a while now, but with the cut in income that this career change will inevitably bring, the issue has reached the fish-or-cut-bait point. In the past, “Both” would have been a viable answer, but now that’s no longer an option. I must make a choice, and soon. So…this one? The other? Or neither? (Yes, neither is an option.)

Currently, I have an Xbox 360 and a PS3, acquired over the course of several years (I am not an early adopter), and I can’t say I favor one over the other. The differences are largely insignificant to my playing style, and those differences are far outnumbered by the similarities (both good and bad). As a result, I really don’t have a preference, leaving “Neither” as the strongest option.

As an Old Man Gamer, I don’t have large circles of online friends with whom I go RPGing or MMOing or FPSing. I occasionally run with a couple of guys on Xbox Live and a couple of other folks on the PSN circuit. That’s it. I’m more of a lone wolf, in that regard and thus, when pondering the question of console upgrades, knowing what my peeps are planning to do carries some, but not a lot of weight (especially since none of them are planning to upgrade anytime soon). So, again, “Neither” looks to be the best answer.

With this in mind, you might then ask me why, last week, I suddenly decided to purchase a PS4?

Answer: game availability. Specifically, one particular game. Continue Reading »

Taking Wing

SeahawkThis week, just as local fledglings are leaving their nests, trusting their futures to untried wings and thin air, so are copies of my résumé taking to the digital skies. Ten went out yesterday and today, panic has set in.

Am I ready? Continue Reading »

Doctor, Doctor

Remember those miniature license plates for your bicycle? The personalized ones with your name on them? Cute, right?

Yeah, I hated those damned things because they never had one with the name “Kurt”. I also hated Romper Room because at the end when Miss Nancy took out her magic mirror and searched to see who was out there in televisionland, she never saw me. No Kurts in televisionland. Not once. Not ever.

So, when I learned that my kid-universe included an actor named Kurt Russell, he immediately earned a soft spot in my heart.

Which explains why I have a copy of Tombstone in my video armoire.

It does not explain why I have also have a copy of Wyatt Earp.

Nor does it explain why, this past weekend, I watched them both, back to back.

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Dragons AheadI used to love programming but it’s changed so much in the past 25 years, I can’t stand it anymore. When I only stay at a job for the salary and the time off, when I hate everything about what I do, when I wake up at 4AM with my heart pounding because my brain is preparing me for the day’s fight with a surge of adrenaline, it’s definitely time to go.

But, as I posed it in the previous post in this series, what career to I pick instead?

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