Ed here: Kristine Kathryn Rusch has long been one of my favorite writers. And editors. And savvy commentators on the lives of freelance writers. Kris and her husband (and writer) Dean Wesley Smith are also well-known for their writing workshops. Now I had assumed with all of Kris' street cred that she would never be treated by NYC the way some or many of us have been over the years. Not so. Kris blog is mandatory reading for writers. Here's an example.
Crank up the Aretha Franklin as you read this. Because her classic “R*E*S*P*E*C*T” is blaring as I write this.
I am fed up.
This is the kind of mood I get into when I tell bosses to go screw themselves, when I walk off the job, when I say, “That’s it, no one treats me like this. Not a soul.”
In the past two days, two different editors have told me that I don’t know how publishing works. One deigned to explain to me how something in book production worked when I questioned a scheduling problem in the publishing house. The other told me I had no idea how to write a good book in my genre.
Excuse me, children?
And I do mean children. Both are younger than me, both have been in the business less than ten years, neither is anything more than an editor. Not a senior editor, not a vice-president, not the owner of the damn company. Editors. Employees way down the food chain.
I know. I was one, long before these two were out of frickin’ school. I have taught copy editors, for god’s sake. I have designed publishing schedules. I have run publishing offices. I have managed managing editors. I have more knowledge about publishing in my little finger than either of these two.
for the rest go here: