As far back as I can remember, I’ve been in love with words. Reading, reading, always reading. But by high school, I was equally fascinated with math. Algebra, geometry, calculus, the works. Somehow, though, geometry was the biggest challenge. The 3D nature of it all gave me a headache.

In college I finally found my sweet spot: editing, what I call the mathematics of the English language.

For 26 years I’ve thrived in the field of magazine journalism — not only discovering the rhythm and nuance of great stories, but also learning how to coax them out of others.

In addition to crafting the words themselves, I step back and survey the landscape of the entire magazine. It’s a puzzle of sorts: What topics will best suit our readership? (Haven’t we covered that already?) Let’s vary the reading experience by a question-and-answer format here, a bulleted list there, an essay over there. What authors should I hire? Do we need an expert? It’s become almost second nature to consider these questions simultaneously.

Then, in 2010, this primarily print editor was thrust back into geometry class when Journey jumped with both feet into digital publishing.

Words are still words and stories are still pivotal, but now I need to understand how they live on multiple levels in space, rather than only on the printed page. Just as in geometry, I have to consider depth in addition to height and width.

But I’m learning, I’m learning. Specifically, I’ve learned that . . .

1. Old dogs can learn new tricks. Some of my newest include diagramming ideas instead of using only words, following the Brain Traffic blog and downloading Instapaper for my iPad. While I’m not a “digital native” (I didn’t grow up surfing the Internet), you might call me a digital immigrant who’s pursuing dual-citizenship.
2. This learning will never stop. There are acres of cyberspace information pertaining to the digital/print interface. No, I can’t access it all (analog-life is too fascinating to remain perpetually plugged-in), but I can make a valiant attempt.
3. We need each other. I need my colleagues who understand Drupal and Wordpress, and they need me. They need decades of editorial experience and my discerning eye for a good story. Plus, sometimes it’s just crucial that they can identify misrelated opening modifiers as well as TV theme songs from the ’70s, and who else is gonna teach them?
4. I don’t have to be the expert at everything. I’m learning just enough to be conversant, which makes me a huge fan of my colleagues who can go deeper digitally.

This longtime print editor is definitely learning new tricks. Still, I’ve warned my colleagues: If I seem to be squinting at you as you speak Javascript and HTML, give me a few moments, offer me an aspirin, and I’ll be right with you.