Expectation vs. reality
Two photography teachers stood at the front of our editing class in April — hands waving, projector flicking — presenting a slideshow of photos from past photobook collaborations. With each slide, my anticipation grew for what I could be part of over the next month. I imagined myself with a backpack full of props, tagging along behind a photographer watching how they shoot, gathering meaningful quotes from the subject while the photographer changed lenses, and at the end of copyediting back-and-forth, owning a coffee-table-worthy book with my name somewhere in the acknowledgments.
That was the expectation. Here’s the reality: Weeks and weeks of emailing and waiting, emailing and waiting. Oh, my assigned photographer is no longer taking the class. Back to emailing and waiting, emailing and waiting. By the final class of semester, I still had no photographer.
I ended up in a supporting role, stepping in at the last minute to proofread two photobooks before they went to print. Here’s the thing. I’m (secretly) the class nerd. I desperately wanted to get as involved in this project as I could. I would have given all my days off to the photographers if given the chance. I love the responsibility and challenge that comes with owning a project. But maybe that wasn’t what I needed to learn this time.
Through my role in communications at RMIT and my freelance work as a copywriter, I am used to people handing over the reins to me and expecting me to re-write or heavily edit their work. With the time constraints of stepping in at the last minute, and respecting the boundaries of my classmates who had already collaborated with the photographers and edited the work, I was forced to focus only on proofreading — or a light copyedit at most.
This took more self control than sitting next to a bag of Maltesers.
Here is what I’m taking away from the experience. I know I’ll be a better writer, editor and human for it.
Being invested doesn’t mean you have to be all in
I learned to take the project as it was, rather than demanding it live up to my expectations. Spending eight hours a day in an office for most of my twenties, I’ve heard the term ‘manage expectations’ thrown around enough. It usually means giving the boss a heads up that a project might be a bit late. Here, my expectations were already sky-high before the project even began. I had to rein it in.
I was invested and attentive, but not in the way I normally would be. I had to learn to let go of the project almost as soon as it was in my hands. I had twenty minutes with one photographer, five with the other. I offered suggestions, and left it with them to decide. We didn’t have the luxury of a second check-in. I may not ever see those photobooks again.
In the ‘real world’, projects may be totally scrapped or changed significantly, I will always need to keep flexible and stay positive. But, at the same time, I have a life outside of the project that needs to be balanced. When I can see that a project is heading in a different direction and may be delayed or need extra time and effort, I can proactively rearrange other areas of life. One part of life seems to always be slower when the other is faster, and then they swap places again.
Edit to be clear, not perfect
With time ticking before the photobooks went to print, my role was to make the sentences clear instead of perfectly correct. They are not literary novels, I kept reminding myself, they are photobooks (emphasis on photo). The captions shouldn’t be jumping up and down waving ‘look at me!’. They should only enhance and point back to the photos.
It was my first time editing work where English wasn’t the writer’s first language. Rather than getting caught up in a beautiful narrative and literary language, I focused on making sure the sentences made sense. Sometimes that was as simple as moving a word around, from ‘good feel moment’ to ‘feel-good moment’.
At the end of the day, if they took the advice, then great. My job was to make sure they were not embarrassed when it went to print. That’s all.
Make the best of it
I live by the idea that there’s always something to learn. My name won’t be in any acknowledgements, but my contribution was still felt. And I learned and grew.
I found that I didn’t have to own the whole project to be able to contribute in a meaningful way that helped shape both photobooks. It’s always a good idea to have someone other than the person who has been editing all along to proofread the pages. Fresh eyes. New perspective.
I’m finishing this project with more flexibility, patience and empathy, which are all important aspects of collaborating in an industry where projects shift and people change their mind. I know I’m better for it.
