After witnessing my side of a phone call from Boston yesterday afternoon, Ceri and t! tried to convince me that I’d been offered not one new job, but two. Deep in the state of stun, I tried to argue to the contrary, but they eventually swayed me.
Today’s phone call with the acquisitions editor of the publishing company for which I freelance just sealed it. Yep. One definite new contract to be signed, making me the official imprint specialist. The other… well, let’s just say that in two weeks I need to have a rough draft for a proposal, vision statement, and sales pitch for a new series of books featuring inspirational real-life stories, that would be mine, all mine, to call for and collect submissions, accept or reject those submissions, collate, edit, and hand the product over to them for publication. Editor. Not consultant. Editor.
This second job is different. It assumes that I’m, er, a freelance editor for hire.
Which means that I am.
When did I become what I wanted to be? I must have missed the memo.