My New Job in the Most Beautiful Box

Circles, fountains, and stairways to heaven. That's what I saw the first time I entered the Tanner Building on BYU's campus seven years ago. Though I'd grown up nearby, that trip to campus was the first real one. I was a high school senior and a tumultuous one at that.

That day was to be one of my first deep descents in the valley of decision making. It's not a place I thrive in and certainly not one I like to visit. There were small forays before and there were worse visits after, but this was the first time it really, really mattered.

I was trying to decide where to go to college, and the factors I'd considered previously were falling apart. So I made a choice based on feelings and architecture. I fell in love with the Tanner Building and the Joseph F. Smith Building. They're boxy and bold. I decided to study whatever was in those buildings, but I ended up spending all my time as a student in the JFSB.

Now, it's the Tanner's turn.

I'm still not sure what it is about this building that gets to me.

This time though, it will be a more professional association, rather than an educational one.

It's hard to see, but these trees outside my office are stunning.

Consider this the official announcement of the end of unemployment. I am now the assistant editor of Marriott Alumni Magazine. In the near future, my writing and editing will be appearing here and here.

In short, I'm as head over heels about this job as the building it's housed in. Times fourteen. And a little bit.

You Don't Know Ditto

Once again, Wondermark sums up my life. This time, it's how I feel when applying for jobs.

http://wondermark.com/943/

Stowaway Magazine in Video!

Remember how I worked on Stowaway magazine? You've seen it in full color spreads, but now you can see it in moving pictures! Check out this video on us. Feel free to eat a tootsie roll for every time you find me in it.

A Quote Preserved

About this time last year, I was hanging out with this young, fashionable, and lovely lady named Bekah:

Not sure what's happening here.

About this time this year, some people thought the world would have ended. I never bought into that scene, but I've been collecting some good jokes about it in my head.

Bekah's wins first prize, for its overall awesomeness and editor appeal:

"Apoc-ellipsis, the dot dot dots of the universe."

Runners up? "Get busy or die Mayan." And the advertising gimmick of the local personal injury lawyers: "Were the Mayans right? Get your will today! No payments until after Dec. 21!" The logic of this claim baffles me.

Also, you can see one of Bekah's photographs of F. Scott Fitzgerald's house in my Stowaway article here.

Yogiting

Yogiting: the act of using your editing books as a yoga block.

This, folks, is a true story. I was desperately trying to do this free yoga video without the proper equipment. I had to resort to sitting on my Chicago Manual of Style and my Webster's Usage Dictionary.

That's a real yoga block.

These are not. That is also not a real person.

Figures flex like normal people not like yoga people.

I don't know if this is qualified to go on the "you know you're an editor if" list. Anyone else done this or anything stranger with a style manual?

Explore, dream, discover with Stowaway magazine

Last winter semester, I worked editing Stowaway magazine with a whole staff of awesome people. I think our issue turned out splendidly. This really is a great travel magazine for those who want a view of the world without the price or experience of tourism. The articles have lots of tips on how to really dig into the sands, the foods, and the thrill of a place.

You can find my articles on pages fifteen and twenty-three and my editing everywhere. I'm also a big fan of the articles on cooking with quinoa, kayaking the Bahamas, finding your roots, and working on organic farms—all great traveling ideas, except the quinoa; it's just tasty.

There's lots more where that came from. Other issues available at stowawaymag.com/

A quote preserved

As a follow-up to my last post on editing, I give you the following profound words from Super. Please fill in your own theme music.

"Every day I'm proof-er-reading!"

You know you're an editor if

You know you're an editor if

1. you're already aware there shouldn't be a colon after if in the sentence above
2. you've already found an error or two in this post that Chicago wouldn't sanction
3. you didn't find all the errors and went straight to Chicago 6.121 to double-check
4. you see more possibilities in these cake pans than the average baker

This woman is an editor. She has schwa earrings.

5. you don't believe any of that crap about split infinitives or beginning a sentence with but
6. you wanted to cry joyfully when you first learned about old-style numbers
7. you could actually find a need for ten of these magnets
8. you support the return of the interrobang (well, not all editors do; but they should)
9. this video by College Humor speaks right to your soul

Also, you're an editor if you want there to be a number ten on this list. But alas, I have left you hanging like a dangling modifier.

On a related note, I hate it when there are typos and other errors on my blog. Should you find one, feel free to point it out to me. I'll be sad at my original failure. But I will correct it, and the world will stand greatly improved.

If you'd like a grammar question answered, ask away! I will write a post just for you.

There are so many other things that could go on this list. What would you add?

What Mr. Gutenberg did not and could not find in the forest

On Center Street in Provo, Utah, the world's greatest Gutenberg museum quietly hides its treasures. Last weekend, I took a trip there for my editing class. The beauty of this little post-it note of a place is just how un-museum it can be. They want you to touch everything, and though they've been giving this tour for 14 years, they are terribly excited to tell you everything they know. And they know a lot.

The man above is my friend Wally. Wally is a very experienced printer himself, who holds the wonders of printing with all its intricacies and techniques deep in his heart. His brilliance struck me constantly as he told us story after story, unfolding the history of his trade.

As I said, the museum is a hands-on experience. It contains one of the only working Gutenberg presses in the world. During our trip, we inked and printed the first pages of Gutenberg's Bible, exactly as he would have done it. You don't get this kind of experience at Disneyland, folks. 

The printing business isn't exactly the happiest place on earth. I'm always amazed at the number of things that can go wrong with even the smallest of publications. In the printing process, all the pages need to be turned just the right way so they line up. The ink has to stay on just the tops of the letters to make it readable. The paper has to be cut on just the right side. The metal of the parts must be just the right blend to be both strong and malleable. The p's, d's, q's, and b's all look exactly alike, but they aren't at all. And the correct way to use a dash and a comma is tricky enough on a computer, let alone when you've got to dig it out from the case and put it with all the other letters individually.

With all of this, a tiny mistake often means starting the whole thing over.

When I think about this, I am all the more in awe of Gutenberg. Not only did he have to deal with all of these problems, he had to invent from scratch a way to deal with all of them. To even make moveable type, he had to create his own mold to cast it: something never seen anywhere else. As Wally says,  "It didn't just come running out of the forest and say, 'Gutenberg! Here I am!'"

I'm glad it didn't, but my heart goes out to Gutenberg who probably wished it would have. I don't think anything's ever run out of the forest for me. There's this great song called "All You Need," which you can listen to and download for free here. The lyrics say, "'If it's meant to be, it'll come to be.' That never worked for me. I've had to work for everything." How true.

This does not mean God doesn't love us or bless us. He's just moving us to become something. Like with Nephi:

"And it came to pass that the Lord spake unto me, saying: Thou shalt construct a ship, after the manner which I shall show thee, that I may carry thy people across these waters. And I said: Lord, whither shall I go that I may find ore to molten, that I may make tools to construct the ship after the manner which thou hast shown unto me? And it came to pass that the Lord told me whither I should go to find ore, that I might make tools." (1 Nephi 17: 8-10)

He does provide. But the hands must be ours. And the decision to do something must also be ours.

With that said, I highly recommend you schedule your own tour of the Crandall Printing Museum. No matter how long you think you'll be in Provo, just do it now.

Going somewhere?

This semester I'm working as the assistant managing editor and the web director of Stowaway magazine. Stowaway is a travel magazine for young adults who like to go to the most exotic of places for the price of Provo. It's got great photography and great tips. While you're looking forward to my articles in the fall 2012 issue, you can get started reading the winter 2012 issue at this link.