Is This Fruit Pic Too Sexual? Life as Book Riot’s Managing Editor
When I first became Managing Editor of the good ship Book Riot, I thought I knew most of what my job would entail. I’d been an Associate Editor for two years and was prepared for a more intense version of what I was already doing but with more calls to take, decisions to make, and emails to send. Armed with my new title and job description, a plucky attitude, and a deep and abiding love for (overly) detailed documentation, I stepped into my new role. I was Managing Editor! I would edit, and I would manage things.
On most days, that is indeed what I do. I am responsible for Book Riot and related properties’ content strategy, including onsite content, podcasts, and newsletters, as well as social media and community engagement. I have three editorial direct reports and manage our fab group of contributors and contributing editors. I work closely with our Sales, Ad Operations, and Editorial Operations teams on everything from client communication to the execution of sponsored content and with our Technology team on the style and function of all things Book Riot.
Aaand then there are the parts of my job that didn’t make it into the job description. I’ve compared suggestive fruit pics, explained that cinnamon rolls are neither elitist nor sexual, and had to tell advertisers that Nazi romance is a hard pass. Please to enjoy a sampling of some of the weirder things I’ve said, read, or had to think about in my time as Managing Editor.
“Is This Fruit Too Sexual?”
Whether for a post on erotica or one specifically about covers containing sexy fruit (yes, we reuse images), I’ve been pinged more than once to ask whether a piece of fruit was too hot for TV. There are a lot of sexy fruit pics out there, my friends. You might not think a stone fruit could make you clutch your pearls, but you’d be wrong (and I’m not talking about the one below).
“Yeah, I’m Just Not Interested in Nazis Getting an HEA.”
Websites make money through advertising and Book Riot is no different. Did I know I’d need to evaluate proposed titles from clients for fit and values alignment? Yessir. Did I expect to still have to tell the people that Nazi romance ain’t it in the year of our lord 2023? Sure didn’t.
“Did Jeff Just Say Bigolas Dickolas? Again?”
My office shares a wall with that of our CEO and co-founder Jeff O’Neal which means I have the unique privilege of overhearing his end of the Book Riot Podcast and Patreon when he records from Portland HQ. Jeff gon’ Jeff on any given day: puns in abundance, a two-for-one special on metaphors, dad jokes for the gods. But hearing those Jeffisms out of context when I least expect them, like repeated mentions of the Dickolas of house Bigolas? I live.
Another recent out-of-context gem: “I don’t know what the condition of my meat suit will be, but I’ll probably want to spread it out!”
“Hey, go ahead and pull social media due to war.”
Russia invading Ukraine isn’t funny in the least, let me be clear. War just isn’t a thing you imagine you’re going to have to think about a ton when you helm a site about the booky books. The worst part? This decision is part of a policy where we pull our social media posts when there’s a tragedy like a mass shooting, and that’s a thing we’ve had to (and have to) do several times a year.
See also: pulling social due to insurrection. Barf.
“Hi Rebecca? I just wanted you to hear from me that I accidentally called my direct report a ***.”
A thing I have to work at a ton is that I type as fast I as I talk but also don’t type the “right” way. Add in the claws I call nails and you have the perfect recipe for typo soup. In most cases, it’s fine: that’s what the edit function in Slack is good for and it’s rarely that serious.
Then there are the days when the omission of one teensy tiny little letter means the difference between referring to someone as being “a little idea hose” (which yeah, is a weird way to put that anyway?!) and calling them… something else! I edited that sh*t so fast, but not fast enough for them not to see it. They laughed along with me heartily but wow, boss of the year.
“I know I searched this stock image site for ‘sexy Santa’, but these Santas are too sexy.”
Sometimes you step away from your keyboard to make yourself a lil matcha and you come back to gems like this in the chat (hi Danika!). The handsome fella in this post’s featured image is the one we went with, but I can confirm that the available options really ran the gamut between naughty and nice.
“Let’s not run that book, it might have ties to a cult.”
That was a fun chat!
“No ma’am, we did not intend for the term “cinnamon roll” to make you feel excluded.”
Someone wrote the Book Riot inbox to complain about this post on cinnamon roll manga, saying it was elitist to post content that excludes people not in a fandom. Another person took issue with the same post for its use of “kinky sex terms.” I explained what “cinnamon roll” means in this context to both—a sugary sweet character, usually male, super supportive, kind, and just a cinnamon roll of love!—and one of them wrote back to say they were sorry for making assumptions. I could write another 1000 words on the emails I get alone.
“Oh for f*ck’s sale, is the wizard lady being a bigot again?”
We don’t talk about Bruno or Joanne around here, but her bigotry still makes its way across my desk a few times a year for various editorial reasons. Just count your money and leave us alone, ma’am.
“… but what do I do, twerk to the new Colson Whitehead?”
That’s a thing I said to Rebecca on a call while discussing our TikTok strategy when it was still newish territory. I enjoy the clock app a ton but my perception of it at the time of this conversation was that it was a place where young folks went to do a little dancy dance and lip sync. Feeling acutely aware that I am no longer The Youth, I let that stunner of a question come out of my mouth. What does it even mean?! Was I suggesting I twerk while giving you the plot synopsis? Am I twerking to the audiobook? Am I twerking with excitement because a new Colson Whitehead book is always a good time?
And on the off chance that the incomparable Mr. Whitehead is actually reading this, please just… look away.
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