People weren't kidding when they said that the last post I wrote was way back when--and that was back in April. What was I doing between then and now? I think mostly learning more about the book publishing world, to put it simply. The conclusion is that I was recently promoted from Editorial Assistant to Senior Editorial Assistant--and that was quite nice.
It's been a hairy past few weeks though--no lunch, no sunlight, just work. But I'm nearly on top of everything now, and hopefully, will not have to be spending so many more hours in the office than is necessary. And it's not because I'm behind--it's just been ridiculously busy with all the new books coming out and the other books coming in. My main two major projects are to finish the slides for Garde Manger and start editing the Catering IM. That and to get in quotes for two upcoming books.
Getting quotes is harder and more time-consuming than you would think. To get the quotes on back of books, you get a list from either the editor or author (of people who they might know, but mostly likely, they will not know them). Then you figure out the best way to contact the people on the list (chefs with restaurants are easier than those without--searching for chef and "assistant" has been good too because most big chefs have assistants who will be coordinating on their end; for celebrities for Bubby's Pies, specifically to find out how to reach Billy Crystal, I whipped out my credit card and signed up for the platinum IMDB trial thing--did you know that a lot of actors run their own production companies?). Then you figure out how to call their people to get an answer from them about a) if they got the materials b) if they have a quote to give you. Only once or twice did anyone email me a quote by deadline without me having to follow up. Still it must be like a dentist--pulling teeth is hard and messy, but it's gratifying in the end. For example, look at the quotes I got for Professional Chef. Chef Bocuse was travelling, so I couldn't get a new quote from him--and it was pretty traumatic when I called and spoke with some scary French lady who had no idea what I was saying, but everyone else on the list I either contacted and spoke with them directly, or for most of them, I spoke with their assistants. And when you don't have the direct line to the "offices" at French Laundry, you wait for half an hour since the reservation line is the only one on the web. Nuts, but it's great! It's like a game.
I'm probably thinking "dentist" up above because I got two fillings yesterday. Last week I went to the dentist for a cleaning, and the poking device he used to check my teeth kept getting stuck on my upper right back tooth and lower right back tooth (#2 and #30-something) so he said that I had holes and my teeth were soft there so I should get them filled. Keep in mind that I had no idea that these "holes" meant cavities. Meanwhile after my cleaning, my gums were swollen because I should have been flossing. (And I've tried to floss at least two or three times a week since then, which is what my dentist told me was the least flossing that I could plausibly do.) Flossing meant bleeding though, but he convinced me that if I continued to floss that I would stop bleeding. (That part is true--I've really healthy looking gums.) So yesterday, I went to get my fillings. To clarify what I thought I was getting: silver to fill in the holes. Not a solution to a cavity which would involve pain and drilling. So I am in the chair, and he asks if I want to go numb. And well, why would I want to go numb if he's just applying stuff to the holes? So we agree that going numb is dumb. He said it might feel a little sensitive--that's all. So he's doing something to my two teeth, and then he says to rinse, and I do. And I think I'm done. Then he says, Okay, we're going to fill it now. And I was like, Wait, what did you just do if you didn't fill it? He drilled me! Anyway, I now have some cool metal in my mouth. (When I was eleven, I fell in love with this boy who I thought was perfect--he had glasses and braces, and apparently a nasty hairy mole somewhere visible, but I never saw it. Anyway, it's nice to be apart of his metal-mouthed club over 10 years later...) Also, the weird thing about my first visit was that he kept saying that last time we had discussed how I went to or was going to Paris to get engaged. And the funny thing is that last year I did go to Paris--and it would have been very nice to get engaged there, but it didn't happen. I showed my dentist my left hand and said, Uh, not me. It took some convincing, but he realized he meant someone else. Lucky bitch.
Anyway, it's October 19th today, and in a few weeks I will be moving out of Manhattan.
It will either be back to my parents' house in North Bergen or to Reston, Virginia. I've given Jon an ultimatum--he has to propose if he wants me to quit everything here and go down there with him. He's this close to buying a ring I think--poor guy has tons of windows on the computer open reading up on diamonds. A few weeks ago, I had a dream where he proposed with a ring from Kohls. Though in my dream I was initially upset, I got over it and was pretty happy--I mean he got it from Kohls, and it wasn't exactly the style of ring that we discussed, but it had a nice diamond--and I do love him. And I woke up happy that I didn't screw up my relationship in my dream over a ring, but the real me was also kind of angry at the sleeping Jon for a) sleeping b) getting a ring that was totally not what we discussed, from Kohls. We shall see.
Anyway, Jon is here now, and I cannot proofread with him reading over my shoulder. So I hope it mostly makes sense...