As you know, dear faithful reader, we are a team whose core is composed of 22 editors – one by language in which we publish on the European parliament’s website. The rest of the team serves mainly as fancy decoration around our precious editors, like tuning-up accessories on a luxury sport car.  Really, they are the stars our beautifully handcrafted workflows and templates system has been designed for. However, there is a flaw in our almost perfect gas factory. We only have one editor by language.

Whenever one of our European Hemingways goes on vacation, say because he/she has worked like hell for some European Elections campaign  in the last eighteen months, well, the writing and publishing flow in his/her language suddenly stops, depriving millions of fellows common language speakers of the latest important news, such as our dear President being ready to go to Iran.

(Open bracket)
Iran, where, suprisingly, not only do citizens actually care about voting in elections but also massively demonstrate in the streets and find the guts to fight armed forces, militia and other religious coarcition when they know their votes aren’t respected. They don’t want a change of regime, like, say, overthrowing the Islamic Republic, they want the republic’s rules to be applied and their vote to be respected. Meanwhile, in civilized and democratic EU, more than one out of two Europeans didn’t bother to vote.  Too complicated. Not democratic enough. Too far away. Compared to easy ongoing Iran where the Guardians of the revolution make sure, everywhere and all the time, that you wear the right kind of clothes, hum the authorised tune and use your cell phone only when the State wishes so, expressing a democratic choice, having your say, is such a piece of cake.
(Closed bracket)

Hemingway's typewriter. Yep, the real one. (cc) Shiny Things on Flickr

We don’t have official back-up but we have some unofficial ones. We ask colleagues from other Units, we ask our trainees, we even use translators if the leave is expected to be for a long time. The aim is to keep the website fairly alive in all languages and to reduce the burden of our missing Orwell, so he/she doesn’t find a too high pile of synopsis on his/her desk when coming back. They tend to loose all  their sun tan at once otherwise.

Being French, I act as Florent’s shadow when he’s on leave. That is, if I don’t have too much to coordinate, which was happily the case this week. Florent is off I don’t know where, I was myself back from Andalusia, thank you very much, and we now live in a quiet realm between the Elections and the first Plenary session, when we try to recover before the craziness starts again. There is not that much to coordinate yet. So I wrote the stories in French, from the synopsis crafted by our weekly appointed Albert Londons and approved by Steve.

All cars are on the same track but every pilot is alone in his car and is responsible for the quality and the beauty of the race. You, dear readers, are the passengers.

Moving to the role of editor when being a coordinator is like becoming pilot in a rally race when you usually work at the stand.  At the stand, we prepare the race, we fix the car, we talk to the engineers and the meccanics, we handle the external pressure, we draw the roadmap with the pilots. In the car, the co-pilot provides the synopsis and, then, the pilot is on his own. He writes. He adds to a common script the flavour of the style, the quality of the language.  All cars are on the same track but every pilot is alone in his car and is responsible for the quality and the beauty of the race. You, dear readers, are the passengers.

This is what I love most.

I often say that I think being a web-editor in our team is amongst the best job in all the institution. You learn a lot about the European affairs, you cover news, you meet VIPs and European actors. And you write. The job combines all advantages of belonging to a really cool and professional team with the self-satisfaction and the creativity of real personal work. Another bonus is: as a writer, you know when your job is done – it’s when your story is published. At the end of the day, you can see what you’ve achieved. It’s online.

I can do all what editors do and this is really cool.

Apart from the writing pleasure, sitting behind the wheel for a week allows me to check on the daily life and work of our García Márquez lot. How long does it take for a blue-fish like me to write and publish the full story? How many synopses a day is really too much? Do our gears and tools, content management system and editing formulars work smoothly? It gives me a different look on the synopses themselves. I read them everyday but I don’t use them for writing. This is a totally different thing, mind you. When being a pilot, I can criticize a quote left by Steve, laugh at some answers given in interviews, complain about the length, the structure. I can do all what editors do and this is really cool.

I can even yell from my desk (or, even better, by passing by my fellow editors’ desks): “I’ve published!” after one of those either long or too institutional pieces we have to produce every now and then.

Of course, even when acting as an editor only for a week, there is always a missing part: the synopsis writing where the real business of journalism lies. Sourcing the story, finding the proper angle, building a structure, getting quotes, working with a peer. Cutting, adding, milking… This demands more involvement in our editorial system and more time. You can’t be a tourist. 21 other pilots count on you for their ride.

Florent comes back soon. I know he will grin a bit at the French website – even if it lightens their return, editors don’t like when someone else published on “their” headlines. (Some of them even rewrite everything that was published when they were away). I’ll hand him over they keys and I’ll return to my booth, at the stand. There are races everyday and someone has to coordinate all this mess the pilots leave behind.