A winter wasted?
In my last post, I mentioned the copyediting course that I was taking in order to boost my credentials. Since I don’t have much experience as an editor, I’d hoped that this would help demonstrate my skills and dedication to potential clients.
However, after taking the introductory class, I bumped into two problems.
The first issue was how much I struggled with the second copyediting class. Instead of sailing through like I had before, I bungled the assignments, missing obvious mistakes and recommending unnecessary changes. I started to worry that I might not pass the class.
This was a blow to my confidence, but in the end it helped me realise that neither the rigours of copyediting or the way the class was taught were a good match for me.
Oh well, I thought. At least I learned a few editorial basics. Take a break, then move on.
And it’s a good thing I did take a break. Once my frustration with my poor performance had settled and I’d taken the time to rest my frazzled brain, something else occurred to me: people have Grammarly. They have Spell Check. They have Chat GPT.
That’s the second issue: why would someone hire an unexperienced copyeditor when artificial intelligence can do the same job for a lower price?
So then I had to consider how much time I’d wasted worrying over my poor grades in copyediting – not to mention the money I’d spent on the classes.
More frustration. More moving on. After all, I bought those classes to learn something about editing, and I did. They just weren’t the lessons I had expected.
I decided to quit my second copyediting class without finishing it, and I’ve had no regrets. Copyediting is about fixing. I want my work to be about making, sharing, connecting. I want it to be about stories and discoveries.
A sort of spring break
In April I decided that I needed a change of pace. I was tired of constantly being tired (thanks to autistic overload), so I reduced my work hours and turned to my old friends sewing and reading to keep me occupied. Often I listened to podcasts while I sewed, to drown out the questions that kept cycling through my mind: should I upgrade my ESL certification? Would teaching ESL bring in enough money to pay rent? Would an office job like administration or HR be better pay? Could I actually manage the hours expected from these positions?
It’s taken me these last eight months to work through the endless information on job opportunities and financial advice and conclude that planning ahead is terrifying. I did do one thing that’s often recommended to anxious people, though: I broke things down into separate problems. Problem one – the cost of living crisis vs. my output as a disabled person – doesn’t seem to be something I can actually solve. Hopefully I’ll become more confident in working with this systemic disaster in time.
Problem two, the frequent sensory overload at work, is something I’m determined to manage better by changing which roles I pursue at work. This might reduce the number of hours I work per week, but I can manage on a tight budget. I also have the great privilege of a family that’s willing to support me. Because of this, I can take the rest I need while I adjust my career into something more sustainable.
And what will that look like?
My plans aren’t quite finalised yet, but here are a few teasers:
- A course in developmental editing.
- A podcast and/or blog series that explores the nuances of neurodivergent characters in fiction.
- New social media profiles to help connect with other bookworms and promote my services.
That’s all for now! I’ll post some more details on the podcast-in-progress and social media accounts in a few weeks.
Have you read a good (or bad) book with a neurodivergent character recently? And have you had any experience as an editor? I’d love to read about it in the comments!
PS: I could have gone off on a tangent about how I feel artificial intelligence is being misused as a replacement for human creativity and learning, but that’s a subject for another time. In the meantime, here’s a collection of interviews with people who lost work to AI.
Emma Lammers 