37,207 HR complaints at Penguin Random House Canada

The end is in sight. I'm still having fun writing, but since I am now 37 years old - and about to turn into dust at any moment - my left wrist has decided to develop carpal tunnel despite my best efforts at ergonomics. 

I finally finished the meeting that Jocelyn expertly chaired, clocking in at just shy of 5,000 words. A delightful interlude. 

The excerpt I'm sharing is inspired by an old "Ask A Manager" article, particularly the comments section. 

Claire has finished her manuscript and submitted a cleaned up draft to her publisher, Steph. She is meeting with Steph and her editor, Suzie, to discuss next steps.

I like to imagine Suzie getting back at her strange co-worker by decorating her car thusly
in the office parking lot

~~~

I power up my laptop, log in to zoom and am immediately brought into the meeting from the virtual waiting room.

Steph and Suzie’s cheerful smiling faces fill my screen.

“Good morning!” They say in unison.

Suzie is the editor I worked with on my last book, and she is a force of nature. Tiny and pink-haired, she can see plot holes a mile away. One of my biggest weaknesses is timelines. I struggle to remember where and when we are. Even with my best effort, I forget and make plenty of errors. Suzie sees the timeline as clearly as if it were tattoos on her arm. For all I know, it is. She has a myriad of beautiful body art.

“How are you both doing?” I ask.

“Not bad,” Steph answers.

“Not the best,” Suzie says.

“Sorry to hear that, Suzie,” I tell her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Well, I don’t want to waste your time with office politics,” Suzie tells me. “But this is just so strange that I have to tell you. You know that my birthday is on Hallowe’en, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, one of my coworkers, upon finding out that my birthday is on Hallowe’en, started papering my car with anti-Halloween religious tracts everyday. When I asked him to stop, he told me because of my ‘sinful' birthday that I need to atone, ask forgiveness and be born again. I told him if he didn’t stop, I would let HR know. It stopped, luckily.”

“Wait. What? Did he want you to, like, move your birthday? Or did he somehow think that you chose your own birthday?” I ask.

“No, he wanted me to ‘atone’ for it. Clearly having such a sinful birthday was a sign of my sinful nature. Not entirely sure what mischief I could have gotten up to in utero, but apparently I must have been a wild child.”

“What a strange thing to happen. Glad that’s over for you,” I tell her.

“Me, too,” she says.

Steph chimes in. “It was so much easier to deal with than the custodian who went around cursing everyone who they didn’t like.”

“What is going on at Penguin Random House?” I ask, baffled by the strange office politics at the publishing giant’s Canadian headquarters.

“Nothing now. The custodian has resigned and the anti-Hallowe’en nut has cease-and-desisted at the threat of an HR complaint,” Suzie tells me.

“I feel sorry for whoever runs your HR department. Sounds like they have been busy.”

“Not as busy as we have been reading your manuscript,” Steph says, deftly changing the subject. “And I’ll just start with my initial impressions: Wow! The cat. I was leery at first, but the cat is perfection.”