by Janis
Patterson
Did you ever wonder about the
etymology of the word ‘deadline’? It sounds so vaguely threatening. “You reach
this line (time?) or you’re dead.” Did the kings of old give their serfs a
deadline for bringing in their tributes and lop off their heads if they missed
it? Come to think of it, I have known a couple of old-time editors who would
have just loved the power to do that – in fact, getting one’s head (or job)
lopped off on occasion would have been considered preferable to their
reactions.
I wonder that those of us in the
wordsmith world have not been able to find a more pleasant, less belligerent
term for the time a manuscript/whatever should be turned in. Final day? Term
line? End time?
Not that it makes much difference
these days anyway. I grew up in advertising, back when deadline really meant
deadline. Even being a few hours over the limit was enough to get you raked
over the coals. When I moved over into journalism, missing a deadline could get
you fired. Now it seems that a deadline is more of a suggestion than a distinct
cut-off date, which is something I don’t understand. If you’re given a contract
and a date your project is due, hadn’t you better uphold it?
Now there are a few reasons for
missing a real deadline without notification to your publisher – death, ending
up in a full body cast at your local hospital, things of that order – not that you
feel you need a small vacay and will need an additional two months, or that you
had another contract come up that offered more money, or any other reason,
legitimate or not. If someone realizes they can’t make a deadline, they should
notify their publisher immediately. I don’t see why people don’t get that.
On the other hand, there’s a lot
about the other side of publishing I don’t get. Why have advances fallen, the
quality of editing and proofing gone into freefall and all the responsibility
for publicity fallen on the shoulders of the writers? (Unless you’re in the
Roberts-King-Koontz stratosphere and, of course, generally excepting a listing
in the catalogues.) Why are advances to celebrities and politicians
astronomical (in the millions) when it’s pretty much accepted that their books
not only won’t earn out, but will be seen on remainder tables and cut-rate
bookstores for the next decade or two? This, when working mid-list writers, the
ones who write the books people actually like to read and who are the mainstay
of the publishing industry, find it hard if not impossible to support
themselves on their writing.
I don’t understand. Too much focus
on money, not enough on books, or the quality of books. Seems
contra-indicative.
Like I said, I don’t understand,
but I’ve got a deadline blowing dragon breath on the back of my neck and I’ve
got to go work. If anybody figures it out, let me know.
