Having moaned for the last few years about publishing and the sense that it is both the right and the wrong place for me, I am a-moving on. But not away from publishing - further into it. What are you doing? part of me yells (referring to herself in the second and now the third person). Finally, yells another. I (first person, singular) am becoming a publisher.
Note: I have no delusions about the new post. Technically, it's a promotion. Realistically, I am exchanging one set of challenges, perks and frustrations for another. The industry is the same no matter where you go.
But one day, I want to be in charge of a little part of that industry. I want to put my over-inflated sense of responsibility to good use. I want to make decisions, however difficult, and be responsible for them, rather than being held indirectly responsible for and suffering the implications of decisions I do not and cannot make. To do that, I have to do my time, earn my stripes, gather the scars and make a hit-list. No, not really. Only in my imagination.
Now I am not so lost in my imagination that I think that one day, oh one day, we will stop carving up our beloved pets and serving them in paper take-away bags. No, I may be idealistic but I am not stupid. But, I think, maybe one day I can dish one of my favourites up on a silver platter and feed starving children all over the world. Or something (this metaphor is running away with me a little).
