When publishing internships go badly wrong.

Like many literature graduates, I want to be a publisher. Not just a publisher; a fiction editor; not the easiest thing to get into at entry level. In fact, fairly impossible. To help myself out as much as I can, like everyone in the world, I've completed various placements at publishing houses. I've made tea, chatted to authors, franked and posted more mail than I can imagine in my head at one time, and, the best feeling in the world, worked on actual people's manuscripts, and months later, seen those manuscripts as lovely bound books, being sold in displays in bookstores or featured on Amazon.

I've had wonderful experiences; but, let's face it, that not great reading, so I'm going to share a nightmare placement with you. I don't want to find myself being assassinated with a hardback style guide, so the company in question will remain nameless. I was floating with happiness at getting the placement - a fiction department at a very recognisable firm, with a list of clients that makes me want to cry.

I arrived early, wearing my most sensible ensemble, with a bag of paper and pens with a face like sunshine, eager to meet my colleagues for the next couple of weeks. I was escorted to my desk, with my email set up, having toured around, clocked the kitchen so I could tea-brew my way into favour. I was sharing a desk island with three young women not a lot older than me, and on receiving a fairly cold and disinterested meeting, I reassured myself they were probably busy, and warm up once I'd proved myself to be the least threatening person they could encounter, so happy and grateful to be here I'd stand pretty much anything. And I almost did.

A sparse morning passed. My offers of making coffee batched were largely ignored, which was fine. And then the office left.
And when I say this, I mean a mass exodus of miserable, unfriendly people. I kept trying to make eye contact with the unlucky guy tasked with looking after me, a clearly hideous punishment distracting him from his real work, who seemed to be one of the few still there. I emailed, asking if there was something I should know..?? Had I missed something....totally my own fault of course...???
'Oh, there's a big meeting on the other side of the city that everyone's going to. You can stay or go. It doesn't matter.'
Right.

At first I dismissed it as a small oversight, no big deal! Not their fault. But then...I was an intern of less than a day, left in a largely empty building by myself. I could have lit my desk on fire and danced naked around it and it wouldn't matter. Actually, thinking about it, that maybe would have go down better than daring to offer people tea, and disturbing them to ask if I could help them with ANYTHING AT ALL.

Two weeks passed very slowly. I worked on some sporadically brilliant things, I must have done reports on every submission they had. I began to hate the fairly evil and catty girls around me, who obviously had never been jobless, broke, terrified, and desperate to make a good impression. I gave up on sweetness and friendliness. Instead of greeting everyone with a smily good morning, not just without reciprocation but without acknowledgement, I sat tight lipped at my desk. At lunch, I got up and went, only to hear them mutter, 'oh, bye then', and bitch about me. I couldn't win. Being nice I was a pain in all their arses, being indifferent I'd proven to be an even bigger insult to them.

What I learned from them, after two weeks of tears, daily entanglements in a newly created inferiority complex and a letter to HR, was how not to run an internship. In fact, I believe after my lengthy discussions with HR, who privately agreed with me that the people of the department were fairly awful,  took my advice that they should stop running my placement. I hope they took into consideration my clause, 'until the personnel got some manners.'


So - if any employers stumble across this: please take it from an intern:

1. Don't leave interns in an empty building. They can sue you.
2. Curt post-its go in the bin.
3. Don't leave interns in the care of people who may be brilliant at their jobs, but are compassionless androids.
4. We're people too. And at the moment, we're very very grateful for anything we can get. Please be nice to us.