Gossip - production of the Whole Earth

So here's how we work. We're in the 1,200-square-foot former maids' quarters of the Falkirk House. The floors slant to the north so that chairs with wheels escape our descending butts or sometimes press the belly so close to the computer screens that we dream in pixels. In one room, Mike and I sit separated by a bookcase. There's also a desk for scanning (or for an intern) and a small table which we use for sorting the 200 books we receive each month. Along another wall are the 300 or so books-in-process, Sorting books can be an easy "no" to Aromatherapy for Astrologers or very confusing.

In the middle room, which is entered from the outside by a long zigzag ramp for the disabled (see photo of ram below), are Lyssa, Jon and Winslow. It's a more open, communal, sunny space, but it also includes the photocopy machine which we share with the San Rafael Cultural Center; the shelves where the buckets with manuscripts, tools and books for the next issue are arranged (vaguely) by theme and domain; the table for mailing; the audio system for daylong rhythm (recently Sonny Terry and Brownie McGee, Nanci Griffith, Greg Brown, ukulele smorgasbord, Ayub Ogada, Stephan Grapelli. ...); and a lonely plant. Lyssa's still waiting for drawers and a bookshelf, but we were lucky as Bill Johnson emerged from the past (he was the art designer for the 1976 watershed issue) and donated badly needed computer equipment.

The back room has a door, so Alex and Anna can hawk ads at full volume. it has great windows that slide down into the wall, and all the financial files and old issues.

That's it. The bathroom is off the middle room, arrived at by squeezing between the photocopier and the audio equipment. There's also a door to the Marin Poetry Center Reading Room, which serves as a quiet sanctuary and meeting room. In summer, we migrate outside to read copy and manuscripts under a gigantic coastal live oak. This July broke numerous heat records. Along the coast, a striped New Zealand porpoise, a Polynesian tattler, and a rare bristle-thighed curlew showed up. The salmon fishermen moan as the hot surface waters have sent the salmon deep (to about sixty feet), which makes hook-and-line fishing a bitch. Perry Kirshenblatt brought Danica Remy, our board president, a salmon which she tied up in fresh herbs from her garden. Less than three hours from the sea, the barbecued flesh held perfumes of the ocean and a texture evoking seaweed. Farm-bred or frozen salmon can never authentically sing of the sea. This year, the Oregonian Province commoners whisper loudly: May you return in abundance.

Liz went off to Northwestern to pursue graduate study in journalism. Lyssa Mudd has moved in. Lyssa has been in India a year and speaks Hindi (and Spanish and French). She's remarkable if only because she never got seriously sick in India. She volunteered as a Whole Earth intern, but she was clearly the right editor. We dream of an issue edited in India. Lyssa's taking a copyediting class that puts my memory of the Chicago Manual to shame (I always had a hard time with it). Unfortunately, Valerie Harris leaves us as an intern. Her quiet elegance will be missed. We were happy to discover she needed a computer and found one in the attic.

We don't feel as bad about being behind in fundraising now that we know the New Yorker loses a million plus a year. But, our 1998 goal is another $80,000 before January. It's driving the staff nuts because I switch hats and fundraise in the middle of production. My copy and the Gossip column arrive at the last minute. Our pixel farmer loses his normal sweet aplomb. We're adding more Point Foundation Board members. Any suggestions?

You may have noticed that we decided to include some longer articles, an "Updates" page that enriches themes from previous issues, a more open design, and an easier-to-track table of contents. Let us know what you think. At the moment, most other mags are going for the short and zippy (even the New Yorker, which used to run a series of articles from one issue to another). It's truly counter-cultural to give readers long articles with background and context. We feel, with this issue, back in stride, except that I'd like another eight pages (maybe sixteen). Ah, the predator editor smells long fine essays but the space in the lair is tight.

COPYRIGHT 1998 Point Foundation
COPYRIGHT 2000 Gale Group