If This Is Friday, It Must Be New Jersey
So we had a lovely informal meeting, which mostly consisted of a tasty lunch at a nearby Italian restaurant. Excellent food and excellent company. I liked this man from the get-go; he was friendly and approachable, but obviously no dummy under his average-Joe exterior. A Ph.D. which he doesn't flaunt, for starters, and many other impressive credentials. He seemed to like me, so we'll see.
One thing that struck me just a couple of days ago was that, if I get this job, I'll be an editor. That is, the person on the other side of the desk from where I am now as a freelancer. In the position to respond to writers, or not. To dream up ideas and actualize them. And still have opportunities to write. And get paid to travel, and interview people, and learn new stuff all the time.
I have to say I'm ready for this. Champing at the bit, as it were. I feel I'm at a tipping point (see Malcolm Gladwell for details on this), and I've got to either expand or burst. I've got too many ideas and too much energy; being simply a freelancer, I don't have enough outlets for all of it.
So we'll see. Mr. Publisher wants me to meet Mr. Editor-in-Chief, so I've made it to the next level. Meanwhile, I'll just keep writing and cataloging and watering the alpine geraniums. But all with the warm fuzzy feeling that comes from knowing you're at least in the running for something pretty good. Cicily's stock is definitely going up.