Of course, that’s a matter of coincidence in our case: I am simply the only male editor. How did I get so lucky? What’s it like being surrounded by lovely and amazing literary women? Is it always gendered this and misogyny that?
Sometimes.
But mostly it means I just try to keep up.
Maybe it’s because we’re assembling Avery 7 across – count ‘em – four different states, maybe it’s because we’re still working on how this third iteration of the Avery evolution will shake out, or maybe it’s because coordination of the literary kind requires an eye capable of seeing more than just a deadline, but mostly I feel simply that when 99% of our communication is over email and skype things could fall apart fast. But they don’t. In fact, most of the time our communication is lucid, fluid, and never without humor.
That is what it’s like working with women.
But wait. I should admit something: I’m married to one of them. So in the interest of full disclosure, I will allow myself to briefly describe/explain that.
She’s better at this than I am.
See? Brief.
Working with her and Nicolette as a fellow editor has meant trying to figure out what part of this whole process I’m actually good at. They are each self-described neurotic women who micromanage and worry about every wrinkle that will inevitable iron out as we move forward with each issue or event. They are self-made women in that they have either founded a literary magazine or learned how to keep one afloat in the face of impossible odds (in fact, they have both done the latter). They are both brilliant readers and exceptional writers. And I have driven both to the airport (on separate occasions) and both of them gripped the dashboard as I drove, regretful to have relinquished the driver’s seat. And what have I learned?
That editing is not synonymous with control. That control is not synonymous with power. That the best sort of collaborations are not only conversations, but cooperation on several levels. As a team, the three editors of Avery thrive at this – when one of us slacks (that’s me), the others pick up (that’s them). When one of us freaks out (that’s one of them, take your pick), the others try to find solutions. In the collaboration that has become the Avery editorial staff, one thing has become clear to me: Avery is itself support.
That’s what we hope to bring to every author and artist and graphic designer and printer – and especially reader – we work with.
