The Plot Thickens Thicker

Or, that time I asked an editor for her autograph

Let me just give you some acronyms right off the bat: NOLS is the National Outdoor Leadership School, headquartered in Lander, Wyoming, but operating worldwide (which actually makes them international). DPI is the Denver Publishing Institute, a monthlong graduate-level program run by the University of Denver in Colorado.

As a recap from last week’s post, this is where I spent all of 2006. As an editorial intern at NOLS from January-June, and then all of July at DPI for a few graduate credits to apply toward a Master of Arts in book publishing I was working on, and then by the fall, back at NOLS as a full-time staff writer/editor and book publishing coordinator.

But today I want to talk about the coolest moment at the Denver Publishing Institute, which was when I met . . . a real life traditional book editor.

By this point in my journey, I knew book-length editing is what I wanted to do. I was still in the process of figuring out what the heck that even meant though. Of course I had some ideas about traditional publishing and the different types of editors there are, and I was learning the ropes of press production for the marketing arm of a small nonprofit (that was NOLS), but I didn’t really know how to break into the job . . . aside from moving to New York . . . and a big city gal I am not.

So the Denver Publishing Institute in Colorado was exactly the right fit for learning where and how I could plug myself into the field. They had heaps of wonderful speakers and sessions covering every role to be had in book publishing. But I was really there to learn from the editors.

That summer they hosted J. R. Moehringer to speak about the book publishing process from an author’s point of view. And he was in conversation live with,

Peternelle van Arsdale

, his editor on The Tender Bar from Hyperion. The two of them discussed the process they went through together from acquisition to published book. They talked about the ups and downs of said process, described their working relationship, remembered fondly the “Peternalia” she would leave in the margins of his manuscript, and fielded questions from all of us students, eager for a glimpse into their world.

Of course I bought a copy of Moehringer’s book (a glimpse into his earlier world of growing up under the influence of the men at his uncle’s New Jersey bar). And when the time came for an opportunity to get it signed, of course I asked the author to sign.

But . . . I was most excited and most nervous to ask Ms. Van Arsdale for her signature. She was the one whom I wanted to acknowledge as a contributor to the book and as a role model to me.

I remember her being so delighted, if not a little surprised, by me asking. She was so kind and wrote I’m honored to sign this book!

I was honored to ask her. Moehringer acknowledges her in the backmatter thusly:

“Through it all I was pushed, coached, charmed, needled, educated, dazzled and edited as never before by the miraculous Peternelle van Arsdale.”

Every time I work with an author, I aspire to that level of acknowledgement in the back of the book. To me, it’s the equivalent of seeing my name in lights. Even though those names are easily overlooked by regular readers who may simply not care who helped a writer achieve their dreams. And that’s okay! It’s a personal note and shoutout that, even if not directed at me, warms my editor heart.

Yes, my name appears in the back of a number of books I’ve helped to edit. But even when it doesn’t, I feel a sense of pride and connection with the author. I don’t need the lure of an acknowledgment to do my job with joy and precision and gusto. It is sincerely what I love doing and authors whom I love serving.

And that summer at the Denver Publishing Institute I was privy to the personification of the relationship I strive for with each and every editing assignment.

See you next week for my next installment wherein I start handling the backlist book titles, and a few new frontlist, for NOLS.