A few chillier days in Portland have made something abundantly clear to me: summer may be over. Part of me doesn’t want to concede that it’s already the traditional time to hit the books, to start new intellectual projects, and to redouble efforts toward goals.
As everyone transitions into back-to-school mode, I find myself struck by what you’ve helped me build with Tweed Editing.
You all keep inviting me to work on incredible projects, and at all stages of execution. I’m now performing developmental and line editing with faculty across the country almost as much as I’m copyediting manuscripts for presses, dissertators, and professors.
Without fail, your editing assignments open my eyes to novel avenues of research and to fresh ways of looking at perplexing phenomena.
I almost feel like an editing scout, earning merit badges left and right—which gave me an idea for way to reinvest creatively in Tweed. Some sewing skills, an iron, a background in Girl Scouting, and a bit of free time begat this:
This summer I took a lakeside hike to the council ring built on the site of the first Boy Scout encampment (1910, Silver Bay, New York). That’s where I am in this picture, and I’m wearing a sash covered with insignia that all have to do with research, writing, and editing.
There’s a badge for bookmaking, one for blogging, one for drinking coffee, another for mastering homonyms, and many for academic pursuits. The “Editor” patch on my shoulder actually designates, of all things, a position within Harley-Davidson motorcycle clubs—talk about feeling formidable.
Simple, silly pleasures like this sash add some spice to the scholarly career, but the main course of this intellectual life is always sustained engagement with well-conceived and thoughtfully executed research and reflection.
Hearty thanks for feeding my mind.
I wish you all an invigorating autumn full of badge-worthy endeavors.