Today marks the first anniversary of Otherworld Editorial. Yes, really! Believe me when I say no one is more surprised that OE is still a going concern than I am. What started as a dubious experiment to formalize my freelance editing services during a dreary economy has easily exceeded my most optimistic expectations, not only in the number of authors who have sought me out and retained my services, but in the tremendous satisfaction I’ve taken from the work itself. And as anyone who knows me will attest, I’m a pretty optimistic guy to begin with.
Even so, I’m finding I can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that Earth has made a complete circuit of sun since I launched OE.
Time speeds up subjectively as we get older. I first noticed this in my late teens. I realized that as one’s past gets longer, common temporal units of measure—months, years, decades—take up an increasingly smaller percentage of one’s total life experience, giving us the illusion of accelerating toward old age. But even though I understand intellectually that this momentum is all in my head, I now find myself taken completely off guard by how quickly this last year has gone by.
Partly this has to do with the inordinate number of career-related milestones I hit during this time. As interest in OE was gaining steam in late 2010, I made my TV debut as a featured participant in a Biography Channel special about the Captains of Star Trek; in late March 2011, I accepted a position on the editorial staff at Tor Books; in May I celebrated my 20th anniversary as a publishing professional; in June I mourned the death of Martin Harry Greenberg, who taught me the importance of giving unknowns a chance to shine; in July my first story in more than two decades was published; and in August I attended my first Worldcon, the premiere gathering of luminaries in science fiction literature, and the venue of the genre’s most prestigious award, the Hugo.
It was an eventful year. And throughout it all, Otherworld Editorial kept going and going, the proverbial Energizer lagomorph.
I’ve never been comfortable boasting of my accomplishments. It doesn’t come naturally to me. But I’m unapologetically proud of OE: it’s allowed me to connect with some pretty amazing and passionate people whose enthusiasm and appreciation for the services I provided has been, to me, the highest measure of OE’s initial success. And as thrilled as I’ve been with the number of clients I’ve taken on over the last twelve months, being told time and again that I’ve made a positive difference to the craft of these aspiring writers has meant much more, validating my belief that helping storytellers is the work I was meant to do.
So a heartfelt thank-you goes out to everyone who entrusted me with their words this past year—those who took a chance on me when there were so many other editorial consultants out there to choose from. I’m humbled by your faith in me.
That was Year One. Take your protein pills and put your helmet on. Time for another lap around the sun.