So I totally started my new job this week, bro. It's freakin' sweet. I'm riding on a wave of serenity and there is no putting a downer on my vibe, man.
No, I don't know what I mean by this either. In all seriousness though, I genuinely did start my new job this week and it's a breath of fresh air after the constricting world of micro-management that disguises itself as the pride of British advertising or Yell, which ever you prefer. I have the freedom to do what needs to be done without this hovering shadow whispering in my ear about targets and typos.
Which brings me to a point which I reckon is a good one for the blog. And it's another anti-Yell point I'm afraid. I don't hate Yell - I don't have much time for hate in my life, it's rather boring - but they do get on my tits at times and frankly, I'd rather they didn't.
Essentially we were expected to write perfect copy every time we wrote anything. No typos, no spelling mistakes, no mistructured sentences. We would pass on the copy to QA and if I had a 'blonde'* moment by typing 'there' instead of 'their', or some such bollocks, that copy would come hurtling back at me with the splendid word 'FAIL' attached to it - yes, some people even used capitals to really get across the point, most of us were 'mainprized' at some point - and I'd have to correct a minor mistake, taking away my prescious bloody time and wasting it. And my time was prescious, I had targets to meet dammit!
I don't claim to be an expert about the publishing world or the editing process. I do know, however, that an editor is responsible for making sure the work is appropiate for the market upon publication. Sure, the QA teams weren't editors but they had the same general principle.
This comes back to a point I made in my last blog about the vast majority of the management not being writers. They can't comprehend that writers make mistakes all the bloody time. Even after proofing the text one more time than the clinically sane really should. Point me to any publication without one spelling mistake in it and I'll point you towards an eskimo wearing a bikini - it just ain't hapenning. (Writer's note: According to Google spell check, 'ain't' is really a word. It's not a spelling mistake and for some reason, this makes me sad.)
I'm going to try and steer myself away from down talking Yell so much in the future. I won't be speaking highly of them but I won't waste valuable time of my own writing about them. Some things I had to say because they ran my life for a long time and drained it of any pleasure for eight hours a day. But fuck me, I'm free now and that's something to celebrate.
So next blog, expect talk about me being a proper silly bastard and how a 'new' car however old is always exciting (and I don't even like cars that much!)
G.
*I mean no disrespect towards the blondes of the world. It's an expression, promise!
Fucking Mainprize
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