When does the whole become larger than the parts?

It has been over seven years since I started The Clean Copy. For most of that time, I felt uneasy claiming that I ran a small business. Instead, I felt like a freelancer who subcontracted to other freelancers. ‘The Clean Copy’ did not have an identity of its own; it was synonymous with my professional identity. I saw myself as an editor first; the business part was merely an afterthought — a makeshift solution to enable me to take on far more work than reasonable for one person.

I’m a big fan of process-oriented goals. I may not have a destination in mind, but I have a strong sense of direction. I still do not have a solid vision for TCC in terms of ideal workforce size, financial ratios, or turnover. Instead, my vision has always tended to be a bit loosey-goosey, based entirely on what I find most enjoyable: building a team of highly competent editors with similar values to do work we take pride in. While the details regarding where and how this team would operate have been fuzzy, the values have always been clear:

  1. A strong commitment to making every manuscript clear, communicative, and error-free
  2. A culture of professionalism that revolves around mutual respect, transparent communication, judgement-free feedback, and reasonable flexibility
  3. A focus on continually improving our skills and knowledge both through structured learning and broad curiosity
  4. In all dealings with authors, remembering that they have something valuable to say to the world. Building relationships with them and being invested in their success and growth

Every year, we’ve been working on introducing systems to stabilise our workflow — financially and operationally. We’ve experimented with project management tools, chat bots, professional communication platforms, online ads, social media marketing, various quality control protocols, coworking offices, and different payment structures. In most cases, we returned to the simplest viable option. Many editors joined our team, some stayed a short while, and many have left. With some, it was a productive and enriching experience, with a few becoming good friends, with others, things simply did not work out. Clients too came in all sizes and shapes, from large MNCs with small blogposts to struggling PhD students with huge dissertations. Through constant and minute iteration, we evolved to build a reputation in a niche that I had no idea existed when I first started: editing academic (primarily policy) research in the social sciences, primarily the energy, environment, economics, and climate space.

Seven years of walking this path, we’ve come a long way. Over the last year, while my attention has been scattered between multiple family health crises, two households packed and moved, a wedding, and a pet lost and found again, TCC has continued to thrive. Because I could no longer look at every document that passed our doorway, the team scrutinised every word and comma. Clients wrote to the team instead of me directly. I didn’t check my inbox for a whole three weeks (I know, shocking!) TCC began operating as a business beyond my individual contribution. After seven long years, the whole was finally bigger than the parts. Without too much fanfare, I had morphed from freelancer to small business owner.

In a world awash with a new AI platform every month, running a small business can feel like you’re operating on a different timescale entirely — five years is barely enough to scratch the surface, and a decade passes in the blink of an eye. Somewhat by accident, I’ve founded a business that fits the shape of my life. I’ve found a group of people who believe in the same things I do. Who can step in when I need to step away. And I’m grateful to all those who took a chance along the way and made it possible. I don’t know where we are headed, but I do know the direction: towards building a team of highly skilled editors who do good work we can take pride in.

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