By Stephanie Nikolopoulos, originally posted at the Center for Faith and Work.
“I get paid to read all day,” I say, dreamily, whenever anyone asks about my job as an editor. I consider myself one of the lucky ones. I have what’s considered a glamour job. For more than fifteen years now I have worked in the book publishing industry—the type of coveted job heroines in films desire. But this also means fifteen years of looking for errant homonyms and Oxford commas, stray periods and Freudian slips. As Oscar Wilde once quipped, it feels like I spend all morning putting in a comma only to then spend all afternoon taking it out. I love my job but, presumably like most people, I sometimes wonder: Is this my life calling?
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