i wanna get off!
Actually, I am about to get off, if only for the rest of this afternoon. It being 3:26 as this scribble starts, that’s not much of a rest of an afternoon. But it’s better than nothing.
We have no choir practice this evening. That’s good, because I intend to use the remains of the day to drink myself silly and to return to writing about the lives of the worthies who inhabit the imagined world of Okan, A’o, and Socalia.
We — my doughty co-editor and I — have finished shoveling some of the stupidest sh!t I’ve seen in my life back to our client editor. Honest to God…it’s impossible to believe this stuff was ever passed under the nose of a peer reviewer. Two (count’em, 2) of half a dozen articles have been pretty good.
The rest…hevvin help us.
I can’t bear it. Nor of course can I go into any detail, except perhaps to reproduce a remark to The Kid and our mutual mentor, The Doyenne of Scholarly Publishing:
As an editor, part of your job is to keep your author from making a fool of himself. Let his bêtises through, and his foolishness becomes all too evident to one and all….including some academic reviewers (or trade press reviewers, depending on your venue) who will be more than happy to amplify his foolishness to the highest possible volume.
But then you have your own publishing enterprise to consider: if a journal or a publishing entity presents a piece of shit like this to the world, it reflects as badly on the journal or publisher as it does on the author. Worse, maybe: an author may be forgiven for falling victim to the hypnosis of his own words, but a publisher with an editor should know better.
For the love of God. As piss-poor as colleges of education are, there’s NO excuse for granting a doctorate to a guy who writes on the freshman level.
Saith the Doyenne:
The editor has a divided responsibility: to the author, to the publisher/journal editor, to the readers, and to her own professional standards. I think the best course is to challenge the author to do the best he can. If that’s good enough for the journal editor even though it isn’t good enough for you, it’s their funeral.
Please, Dear Lord: pass me another bottle of wine…