Oh, The Observer. You're Silly.

I just interrupted writing an editorial letter (for a stellar manuscript that I pulled from the slush with my own grubby little hands) to write this response to The Observer's adorable little article on Publishing Assistants.

Because it's pissed me off. And not only because of the derogatory tone of the article, which derides publishing assistants' supposedly rampant "chatty notes on...personal stationery" and "affection" (bad?) for our bosses, imprints, and agencies.

In this article, the Observer paints a picture, for the most part, of any assistant in any industry:

forming "productive connections" with bosses (called "masters" in this article), cliquey, ambitious, hopeful. Hired for "their taste, their poise" and (?) "their pedigree."

The author then goes on to describe some less-than savory elements of a publishing assistant's job, all of which could again be applied to any assistant, in any industry. Chauvinism, problem clients, tasks-outside-the-job-description.

Then there's this gem: "the publishing assistant's duties have steadily declined on an asymptote toward the menial."

Because why? We don't spend all day, every day, reading "elite literary fiction?" Well f*#%ing duh. Here's the thing: neither do our "masters."

Neither does ANYONE in publishing.

I don't know what Ms. Stoeffel thinks of as the "meaningful work" that our masters are supposedly doing behind their gilded gatekeeper shields made of shattered author dreams, but very, very little of it is actually reading/editing. "Acquiring" a book is not a one step process, either. It involves myriad phone calls, emails, and numbers crunching. It involves, by the way, an editor's assistant.

So, here. At an agency. If we spent even a quarter of the day reading Elite Literary Fiction (or even reading queries), here's a short list of what wouldn't get done: calls to editors to follow up on (a sampling:) contracts, money, submissions; emails or calls to clients (yes, I TALK to the authors! OMGGG!!) to discuss the revisions I wrote at 3am or over the weekend; stifling leaks on major projects being shopped for film, TV, and foreign translation; Writing copy and pitches for books going on submission (editorial and (gasp) even publicity assistants have their own versions of this). And this is all ON TOP of the blog/article/Twitter (yes, friends, Twitter is research!) reading that has to get done in order to stay on top of what's going on in markets in which we're selling books (all of them) and who's moved to which imprint of whatever house today.

Does any of that sound menial? If so, I guess you're not cut out to be a publishing assistant, or any assistant, anywhere--because all assistants have similarly diverse tasklists. Maybe you should go write for the Observer.

To give her credit, Ms. Stoeffel did get it right. Once:
"Little of their workday is left to discover the next Lorrie Moore; to read the thousands of manuscripts you have to mine to find The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, they sacrifice their weekends."

Yes. This is totally true. I don't know how late publicists/marketing/production works, but it's probably not exactly 9-5. But everyone. EVERYONE on the acquiring side of publishing (editorial for the houses and us at agencies) reads/edits/revises at night and on the weekends. Because our work days are filled with the other stuff that has to get done to get a book published. Because we love books and are willing to read 1. after hours and 2. a lot of crap to find The One.

I'm confused where any of that translates to "menial" or unimportant or yes-man-ish as Stoeffel implies. Hmm.

But I should get back to fetching coffee...err...wait. Actually that's a phone call about a pending film deal. Oh, and don't forget the client call at 1 to discuss a proposal...oh, and that editorial letter that got interrupted with this crazy article.