A Luminous Halo

"Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end." --Virginia Woolf

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Location: Springfield, Massachusetts, United States

Smith ’69, Purdue ’75. Anarchist; agnostic. Writer. Steward of the Pascal Emory house, an 1871 Second-Empire Victorian; of Sylvie, a 1974 Mercedes-Benz 450SL; and of Taz, a purebred Cockador who sets the standard for her breed. Happy enough for the present in Massachusetts, but always looking East.

Friday, June 02, 2006

If This Is Friday, It Must Be New Jersey

Today I drove down to New Jersey to interview for the position of managing editor of a monthly periodical for which I had recently written an article. The publisher had gotten positive feedback from his staff on my handling of the article, and from others on my skill sets and work habits. I didn't even apply for the job--he invited me there to discuss it.

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.